Despite my misgivings about the first part of the BBC adaptation of Sebastian Faulks’s Birdsong, I still had fairly high hopes for the second half. Okay, there was a lot to cram in to one episode, but at least it would mainly focus around Stephen Wraysford, his comrades and their reactions, rather than the slightly drippy and far-too-young Isabelle – or at least that was what I hoped. However, I was once again disappointed. Not only did Isabelle feature far too much, but enormous (and very relevant) chunks of the story had been chopped out, in favour of dewey-eyed stares into the distance.

What happened, for example, to Isabelle’s affair with Max, the German soldier and why did she have to die during the war, rather than afterwards? Why was there not more chemistry between Stephen and Jeanne: he does go on to marry her, after all! Where, oh where was the friendship between Wraysford and Weir, which seems to have disappeared completely, with Weir’s character being cast as a closet homosexual, due to the totally unnecessary discovery of the nude male photographs after his death? This shows a frustrating lack of understanding on the part of the screenwriter as to the relationships forged by men in war. Many loved each other in a purely platonic manner with a strength of emotion unmatched in any civilian relationships. Weir’s friendship with Wraysford in the novel is based upon the former’s hero worship of the latter and his need for Stephen’s support. It is only after Weir’s death that Wraysford begins to appreciate that he too has lost something of great significance. Through Weir and, later Firebrace, the cold-hearted Wraysford learns to appreciate love.

Nonetheless, according to this adaptation, it is Isabelle (and her willowy stares), who will always haunt Stephen. However, what the drama failed to capture is that it is Jeanne who really saves him. This failed to come across because Stephen is portrayed as an independent and capable character who doesn’t really need saving, whereas in the novel he is shown to be emotionally destroyed and completely lost.

Personally, I would have preferred to see six, one hour dramas with the story properly told, than this three hour attempt to capitalise on a popular and frequently studied novel. Producers of works which are on the mainstream syllabus have a duty of care to tell the story properly because there will be students who may now consider it unnecessary to read the novel, when they can simply watch three hours of attractive drama. All I can say is, please don’t be tempted into such folly: the television show may be pretty, but the novel will reward you with so much more.

Born on January 23rd 1861 at Whitehall Dairy Farm in Clondalkin, County Dublin, Katharine Tynan was the seventh child of Andrew Cullen Tynan and his wife Elizabeth (née O’Reilly). A Catholic family, which eventually numbered twelve children, the Tynans were dairy farmers, although Andrew Tynan was also an entrepreneur.

Following her education at the Dominican Convent of St Catherine of Siena in Drogheda, Katharine immediately turned to writing, having her first poem published in 1878. She was plagued, however, by eye ulcers, which would eventually lead to extreme short-sightedness. In 1884, Katharine fell in love with Oxford graduate and fellow poet, Charles Fagan who, unfortunately died the following year. The poetry which Katharine wrote at the time gives us a clue as to her heartfelt loss.

Katharine became a prominent member of the Celtic Revival movement, which sought to reinstate traditional Irish values in literature and the arts. She met William Butler Yeats and Charles Stuart Parnell, but shocked her family in 1893 by marrying a Protestant barrister named Henry Albert Hinkson. So outraged were some members of the Tynan family that Katharine was estranged from them and moved to England, where she began writing novels and newspaper articles.

Katharine and Henry had three children: Theobald, Giles and Pamela, before returning to County Mayo in 1911, where Henry was appointed Resident Magistrate. During the First World War, Theobald served with the Royal Irish Regiment, while Giles fought in the Royal Dublin Fusiliers and the publication of Katharine’s poetry led her into correspondence with many other anxious and bereaved families. Despite her fears, Katharine was lucky and both of her sons returned safely from the war. However, tragedy struck just a few months later, when Henry died in January 1919 at the age of 53. Although initially distraught, Katharine eventually rallied and she and Pamela began to travel on the Continent. She continued to write poetry and novels until her death on April 2nd 1931.

PLEASE NOTE: This article contains spoilers because it is based not just on the BBC adaptation, but on the story as a whole.

I began watching the BBC’s adaptation of Birdsong as not the world’s greatest fan of this novel, or its author, but with fairly high hopes, based on the trailers that have been running since Christmas, that here might be a visual feast of an adaptation which surpassed the original and which might help students who are studying this text.

Within ten minutes, I was already disappointed. Certainly the sets were sumptuous and reasonably accurate, but the constant flitting between 1910 and 1916 was too distracting for words. By all means, the story can be told in a series of flashbacks – that is, essentially, how the book is written – but couldn’t we at least remain in one time zone for long enough to acclimatise to it? It is really important to the creation and understanding of Stephen’s character, that we see his relationship with Isabelle as a whole. Only by building the intensity between them and then seeing the destruction caused to him, do we comprehend his aloof nature in the trenches. Given the style of telling the story in this adaptation, we fail to see this, because we don’t yet know that Isabelle will leave Stephen and that this will change his outlook and personality significantly. Stephen isn’t someone who is changed by war: he is changed by his perception of love. Without properly developing Stephen and Isabelle’s relationship before showing us his character in the trenches, his different personality doesn’t really make sense.

One of my biggest disappointments with the adaptation was the things that were left unsaid or undone. Where were all the intimate conversations between Stephen and Isabelle? Where was Stephen’s uncontrollable lust, so great that he even contemplated rape? This helps us to understand his lack of true understanding of “love”, as opposed to “desire” at this stage of his life. Why was not more made of the underground scenes, especially the fight in which Wraysford was injured, which is so graphically described in the novel?

The introduction of Jeanne so early on and her warning to Stephen were, frankly, infuriating. Her character in the novel would never have done this: her loyalty to Isabelle is absolute and at this stage Jeanne is no more than her sister’s confidante. This effectively “dumbs down” the piece, showing the viewer – very obviously – that Isabelle cannot necessarily be trusted and that Stephen is risking his heart by becoming involved with her. In the novel, the reader is well aware of this, purely by Isabelle’s reactions, without needing another character to actually explain it.

I am also left wondering why the modern section of the novel was completely omitted. Elizabeth’s story helps to complete the circle, telling the story itself and providing some contrasts with situations and characters.

With another episode to go (and an awful lot of story still to cram in) my one ray of hope throughout the programme was the performance of Joseph Mawle as Jack Firebrace, who I felt most closely captured the character from the novel. Whenever he was on the screen, all others paled into insignificance.

At 10.30, however, I was left with a sense of concern that there will be some students who will now decide that it is acceptable to simply watch three hours of television, rather than read a 500 page novel. Well, it isn’t. This adaptation fails to capture the extraordinary and intense atmosphere of passion, war and love that Faulks conveys in his novel. So, I have to say that 10.30 on Sunday 22nd January also saw me with a new-found respect for Sebastian Faulks, who achieved all of this through words alone. If you don’t believe me; read the book.

The Kaiser’s Yanks
by Gary C Warne
Publisher: Publishing Success Online (Part of Richardson Publishing Inc.)
Available on Amazon in UK at £9.50

As the centenary of the First World War approaches, that topic and its participants seem to be providing a rich source of material for authors and writers alike (not to mention dramatists, screenwriters, film-makers etc). I was, therefore, not surprised to receive a request from Gary Warne, the author of The Kaiser’s Yanks, to review his novel, and its arrival in the post from Florida was certainly greeted with excitement, as the cover tells of wondrous deeds of heroism in the skies over the battlefields of the Great War.

Written as a “what if” novel, the surmise here is that a group of young Americans choose to service with the German Air Force during the First World War, eventually being formed into their own squadron, namely Jasta von Steuben. The story, tells of their exploits, from leaving their homes to journeying across the Atlantic and making their way across Europe into the enthusiasm of the early days of war. I will not spoil the story for those who wish to read The Kaiser’s Yanks, by revealing any of the plot, suffice to say there’s plenty to keep the air enthusiast entertained. The novel was probably not written for the UK market, given its stance that all of the Allies were pompous, arrogant and uncaring, while the American heroes of the book and the Germans with whom they fought were nothing short of boys’ own heroes! This is hardly a balanced perspective, and not at all accurate of most air force personnel during the conflict.

Gary Warne has, for the best part, done his homework as regards the technical details included within the novel. However, this is a story, not a text book and it does fall very short on characterisation, which in depth and background are sadly lacking. There are many characters involved within the plot, but I didn’t really feel that I knew them any better at the end of the story than I did at the beginning. Additionally, some of the set pieces and “famous” character inclusions are a little obvious or contrived, which makes the whole novel rather more slow-paced than I had expected. For me, however, the greatest disappointment was the lack of emotion portrayed within the novel. There are many scenes of aerial combat, several crashes and a few deaths, but at no point did I really understand how the characters actually felt about what they were doing and in my experience of Great War literature, this is one of the most fundamental aspects.

Nonetheless, I cannot say I didn’t enjoy The Kaiser’s Yanks and it certainly had its moments. It’s not unreasonable to suppose that first and second generation German-Americans would choose to fight for the country where their parents were born. It’s also not unreasonable to expect the author to spell the name of one of his central characters in the same way throughout. It is very frustrating, therefore, that on the same page, the name “Josef” changes to “Joseph” on more than one occasion.

This is evidently a self-published book, which in terms of spelling and grammar (even allowing for the American-English) would need to undergo a major edit before being mainstream published.