Arlott, Birds of Europe, Russia, China, and Japan

Cui bono?

The Princeton Illustrated Checklists leave me more and more mystified. This newest volume, covering the passerines of virtually the entire Palearctic, is colorful and conveniently pocket-sized. But what good is it for the birder?

In his introductory paragraph, Arlott describes this book as intended as “a reminder of birds already seen and… a nudge towards what to look for” in searching for the unseen. But the book is unnecessary on the first count and unhelpful on the second. Anyone who has birded the areas covered here will already own and use some sort of checklist, printed or electronic. And the book provides essentially no information at all to help with the identification of birds new to the observer.

The 80 color plates cover up to a dozen species each, with some attention to geographic variation. Ten figures are devoted to the distinctive races of Yellow Wagtail, for example; unfortunately, Arlott appears to be unaware that that taxon is now thought to represent two separate species. The labels on some plates raise more questions than they answer: are the white-backed Terpsiphone on plate 39 truly “phases,” changing over time, or are they, as I suspect, actually morphs? The numbering of many figures is confusing, too; this is simply poor book design, and the beginner can be excused for calling his first Hooded Pitta an Eastern Phoebe.

Brief text sections face each plate, with information on identification, voice, and habitat. The identification sections, labeled “field notes,” are helplessly jejune, offering no assistance at all in distinguishing similar species. The author explains that “the illustrations will be all that is needed” for all but the ‘trickier’ species. He then provides us with nothing, no arrows, no captions, no telegraphic textual hints, to identify those more subtly distinguished birds.

Cui bono? Nemini, heu.