Coulda sworn I read this while on GR. The green cover with the red band across the middle looks so familiar. Maybe I'll be able to make time to try it again for Lady Vaults May 2020. It should be avl. (at one of my online library sources) and pretty interesting, given the number of editions and different cover images that there have been.
..............

Lady Vaults group died, and I can't get a digital library copy of this. The more I read about it, the more familiar it seems, and I don't particularly have fond memories. So I guess not.

That being said, I'd be glad to see if I can find a paper or pbs library copy for a group or Buddy read someday.

I have always been attracted to stories that explore the dichotomy between capital-C Civilization and its nebulous, wild, primal opposite. "Where Late The Sweet Birds Sang" puts this in stark relief, with high-definition characters at the center, surrounded by superb descriptions of a natural world in decay, flux, and rebirth. ( )

I discovered [b:Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang|968827|Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang|Kate Wilhelm|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1460999710l/968827._SY75_.jpg|953721] by checking the wikipedia list of SF Masterworks for books I hadn't read. It won the 1977 Hugo award with a tale of complete and sudden ecological breakdown. A small US community survives, perpetuating itself via cloning. The narrative follows several generations, exploring the group mentality exhibited by the clones in contrast to the individuality of those born more conventionally. This is not particularly subtle: the clones are so dependent upon each other as to almost have psychic links, aren't capable of creative thinking, and suffer intense agoraphobia away from home. The narrative tone is dispassionate while presenting chilling details of 'breeders' forced into constant pregnancies and mentally conditioned not to rebel. These reminded me of [b:Native Tongue|285563|Native Tongue (Native Tongue, #1)|Suzette Haden Elgin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348446358l/285563._SY75_.jpg|2866090]. That the central question of the book remains undeniably relevant: can humanity save itself with the same systems that doomed it in the first place? This could easily apply to climate change:

"And they don't know what to do about any of it," his grandfather went on. "No more than the dinosaurs knew how to stop their own extinction. We've changed the photochemical reactions of our atmosphere, and we can't adapt to the new radiations fast enough to survive! There have been hints here and there that this is a major concern, but who listens? The damn fools will lay each and every catastrophe at the foot of a local condition and turn their backs on the fact that this is global, until it's too late to do anything."
"But if it's what you think, what could they do?" David asked, looking to Dr. Walt for support and finding none.
"Turn off the factories, ground the airplanes, stop the mining, junk the cars. But they won't, and even if they did, it would still be a catastrophe. It's going to break wide open. Within the next couple of years, David, it's going to break."

I did enjoy the vivid environmental descriptions of rewilding after the collapse of human civilisation. There were some vaguely mystical elements around the forests, but those didn't go anywhere in particular. Close to the end, a character helpfully summarises the central thesis:

"We're living on the top of a pyramid," he had said, "supported by the massive base, rising above it, above everything that has made it possible. We're responsible for nothing, not the structure, not anything above us. We owe nothing to the pyramid, and are totally dependent on it. If the pyramid crumbles and returns to dust, there is nothing we can do to prevent it, or even to save ourselves. When the base goes, the top goes with it, no matter how elaborate the life is that has developed there. The top will return to dust along with the base when the collapse comes. If a new structure is to rise, we must start from the ground, not on top of what has been built during the centuries past."
"You'd drag everyone back into savagery!"
"I would help them down from the point of the pyramid. It's rotting away. The snow and ice from one direction, weather and age from the others. It will collapse, and when it does, the only ones who can survive will be those who are free from it, in no way dependent on it."

This is an appealing yet overly simple analogy. The pyramid of modernity includes scientific realities that humanity needs. The idea of a tiny community of humans surviving in isolation and starting again is a survivalist dream, rather than a particularly convincing model of recovery from environmental collapse. The metaphor works in the narrative if the pyramid is industrial capitalism, as the final survivors have implicitly returned to pre-industrial indigenous ways of living. They definitely don't have enough genetic diversity in the tiny group to survive long-term, though. Thus I consider [b:Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang|968827|Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang|Kate Wilhelm|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1460999710l/968827._SY75_.jpg|953721] a less subtle and insightful treatment of cloning, environmental breakdown, and post apocalyptic survival than others I've read from the same decade. It is well written, but I found myself comparing it unfavourably to John Brunner's incredibly devastating [b:The Sheep Look Up|41074|The Sheep Look Up|John Brunner|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1386924437l/41074._SY75_.jpg|900514]. ( )

It’s hard not to read as an allegory of the pitfalls of communism versus the benefits of rugged individualism. In any case, it’s a paean to individuality. A quibble I had was that the devolution of the clones seemed like it would have taken far longer than the given timeline of three or four generations. ( )

Although a bit dated, this short novel covers a lot of ground. What hope does humanity have after pandemics and other calamities? Cloning seems to be the answer, until it isn't. Because, as flawed as human individuality can be, it is only in the diversity of our genes and minds that the species can survive. A thoughtful read, for sure.

Edit: just learned that the title is from a Shakespearean sonnet, LXXIII.

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which hake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou seest the glowing of such fire
That the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long. ( )