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4.15 AVERAGE
4.15 AVERAGE
UPDATE (and spoilers!): After having marinated for all of a day and a half, I will attempt to articulate my thoughts. It is easier to talk about what I loved, as there is admittedly more of that present in the book: the mind-shattering writing style, the interesting discourse around religion, the fact that Nathan Price was never given a narration platform (no matter how many reddit reviewers may disagree with me on this point), the treatment of Ruth May's death, and the last scene (all four women returning to Africa together in a rare moment of healing for hearts and hearth, able to overcome their fraught relationship for at least a short while...beautiful).
What I disliked:
Characterization -- Almost every single character, but most egregiously those we are presumably meant to root for, are extraordinarily unlikeable, so much so that I initially believed this to be intentional on the author's part. Orleanna is complicit in the physical abuse and emotional manipulation of her four daughters -- yes, I understand the intricacies of a battered woman feeling powerless to even protect her own children, but her justifiably guilt-ridden narration at times shifts culpability to her daughters (even cautioning readers at the book's introduction not to feel too much sympathy for them). She may not bear the entire responsibility for her fate, but her underage and equally abused daughters -- no matter how little they supported Orleanna during her plight of motherhood -- cannot reasonably be expected to shoulder even an iota of blame for the plot's evolution. Rachel (whose character had so much potential in my opinion) is shamelessly presented as a useless airhead who is equal parts vapid and racist. After all, how can we expect anything more of her, as a teenage girl who dares to sneak a mirror into Africa, likely due to her appearance being the only thing she could truly control? Leah spends most of the novel groveling in the shame of her own whiteness, and yet simultaneously views herself as morally superior for such ideals -- it becomes painful to praise her self-awareness after the twentieth time she proudly boasts about hating her white skin. Her smugly inflated sense of self, particularly with regard to Rachel, quickly devolves into melodramatic self-righteousness that somehow manages to render her even more insufferable. (Side note: the contrast between Rachel and Leah reeks of 90s feminism. The butt end of everyone's joke is the blonde beauty who (gasp, shallow alert!) cares about her looks, while the self-proclaimed tomboy with a pixie cut and bow and arrow is clearly foisted to be everyone's favorite and consequently has significantly more narration time than everyone else). Admittedly, there is little actually wrong with Adah beyond how her narration style got under my skin, which brings me to...
Narration -- Look, I understand that there are five narrators who thus need a unique voice, and the author mostly excels at giving them distinct personalities. However, this sometimes comes at a cost -- if Rachel's purposefully misspelled words (she's a ditz, remember????) and Adah's constant palindromes elicited an eyeroll on page 50, they set my teeth on edge by page 500. Especially given that all characters are meant to be in their 60s by then, and their unique voice has not evolved from childhood. Rachel becomes particularly cartoonish with her constant regurgitation of "man, oh man" and juvenile views on Communism, and Adah's never-ending metaphors rival my diary entries from college in pretentiousness (was it REALLY necessary to replace "I struggled to forgive my mother" with "she wore her guilt like the swollen breasts of a nursing mother, but I refused to suckle and give her relief"?). Again, I understand that her narration style -- hence, her inner monologue -- was a bit more flowery and prolific due to her propensity to not speak in real life, but it swiftly became too much for me. Likewise, Ruth May was wasted potential -- whatever compelling shred could have emerged from viewing the plot's emotional heavy-hitters through the eyes of a five-year-old was destroyed once it became abundantly clear that the character would forever sound like a middle-aged woman pretending to be a five-year-old.
Sisterhood (or lack thereof): This is entirely personal preference, but one of my favorite motifs ever is that of sisterhood. If I could make every book in the world give me the feeling that Little Women does, I would. That is what I had hoped for this novel, and it broke my heart a little when it went in the complete opposite direction -- this is genuinely not a critique, since it is not a literary failing but rather an incongruity with my very specific and not necessarily valid preferences/expectations.
What I disliked:
Characterization -- Almost every single character, but most egregiously those we are presumably meant to root for, are extraordinarily unlikeable, so much so that I initially believed this to be intentional on the author's part. Orleanna is complicit in the physical abuse and emotional manipulation of her four daughters -- yes, I understand the intricacies of a battered woman feeling powerless to even protect her own children, but her justifiably guilt-ridden narration at times shifts culpability to her daughters (even cautioning readers at the book's introduction not to feel too much sympathy for them). She may not bear the entire responsibility for her fate, but her underage and equally abused daughters -- no matter how little they supported Orleanna during her plight of motherhood -- cannot reasonably be expected to shoulder even an iota of blame for the plot's evolution. Rachel (whose character had so much potential in my opinion) is shamelessly presented as a useless airhead who is equal parts vapid and racist. After all, how can we expect anything more of her, as a teenage girl who dares to sneak a mirror into Africa, likely due to her appearance being the only thing she could truly control? Leah spends most of the novel groveling in the shame of her own whiteness, and yet simultaneously views herself as morally superior for such ideals -- it becomes painful to praise her self-awareness after the twentieth time she proudly boasts about hating her white skin. Her smugly inflated sense of self, particularly with regard to Rachel, quickly devolves into melodramatic self-righteousness that somehow manages to render her even more insufferable. (Side note: the contrast between Rachel and Leah reeks of 90s feminism. The butt end of everyone's joke is the blonde beauty who (gasp, shallow alert!) cares about her looks, while the self-proclaimed tomboy with a pixie cut and bow and arrow is clearly foisted to be everyone's favorite and consequently has significantly more narration time than everyone else). Admittedly, there is little actually wrong with Adah beyond how her narration style got under my skin, which brings me to...
Narration -- Look, I understand that there are five narrators who thus need a unique voice, and the author mostly excels at giving them distinct personalities. However, this sometimes comes at a cost -- if Rachel's purposefully misspelled words (she's a ditz, remember????) and Adah's constant palindromes elicited an eyeroll on page 50, they set my teeth on edge by page 500. Especially given that all characters are meant to be in their 60s by then, and their unique voice has not evolved from childhood. Rachel becomes particularly cartoonish with her constant regurgitation of "man, oh man" and juvenile views on Communism, and Adah's never-ending metaphors rival my diary entries from college in pretentiousness (was it REALLY necessary to replace "I struggled to forgive my mother" with "she wore her guilt like the swollen breasts of a nursing mother, but I refused to suckle and give her relief"?). Again, I understand that her narration style -- hence, her inner monologue -- was a bit more flowery and prolific due to her propensity to not speak in real life, but it swiftly became too much for me. Likewise, Ruth May was wasted potential -- whatever compelling shred could have emerged from viewing the plot's emotional heavy-hitters through the eyes of a five-year-old was destroyed once it became abundantly clear that the character would forever sound like a middle-aged woman pretending to be a five-year-old.
Sisterhood (or lack thereof): This is entirely personal preference, but one of my favorite motifs ever is that of sisterhood. If I could make every book in the world give me the feeling that Little Women does, I would. That is what I had hoped for this novel, and it broke my heart a little when it went in the complete opposite direction -- this is genuinely not a critique, since it is not a literary failing but rather an incongruity with my very specific and not necessarily valid preferences/expectations.
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Alright, so I see why people either would die for this or recommend it with a shrug of their shoulders. So many positive things, and yet equally so many negative things. The structure and framework is either a big yay or a fat nay - if you don’t like wordy or overly descriptive (at times), this may be a bit of a burden. I thought it was alright though! You think you’re going into a book mainly about religion mingled with family themes, however the meat of it is much more about colonization and how silly white men are thinking they can put a flag down somewhere and in the “name of the Lord” run things as he (white man) would like. While also trying to change people’s definition of “cultured” and what that “really means”. Interesting commentary no doubt!
There definitely are many rich scenes this author made sure we would not forget so easily though. Kingsolver wrapped up a lot of the chapters with great lines that haven’t left my mind. Character development was solid for the most part, and I loved the transitional pace of perspectives – I’m a sucker for first-person narrative, multiple POV combo. It felt like a lot to juggle at first, but you begin to distinguish each daughter through their quirks - some who I ended up liking and others not necessarily liking, so either way kudos to that.
However, I too stand with many readers that due to the nature of so many shifts in perspective, we did not get inside the head of the husband/father/missionary zealot. He is really only permitted to be defied by the others. One of the daughters even said something like “There’s a war going on in father’s mind…” something like that, and I wish we could have tapped into it in the first person. Even for just a dozen pages or so. His experience with his garden is quite a powerful analogy though, and I thought that was very interesting.
Lastly I just couldn’t get over that about 350-400 pages in something happens that felt like it could have been brought in a little earlier towards the climax, but then you still have around 200 pages to go, and from then on Kingsolver gets really overrun with her commentary and opinions. The characters got lost in her manipulations and commentary. Those 200 pages were unnecessary. However, all in all it is a very different piece of historical fiction that has it’s moments!
There definitely are many rich scenes this author made sure we would not forget so easily though. Kingsolver wrapped up a lot of the chapters with great lines that haven’t left my mind. Character development was solid for the most part, and I loved the transitional pace of perspectives – I’m a sucker for first-person narrative, multiple POV combo. It felt like a lot to juggle at first, but you begin to distinguish each daughter through their quirks - some who I ended up liking and others not necessarily liking, so either way kudos to that.
However, I too stand with many readers that due to the nature of so many shifts in perspective, we did not get inside the head of the husband/father/missionary zealot. He is really only permitted to be defied by the others. One of the daughters even said something like “There’s a war going on in father’s mind…” something like that, and I wish we could have tapped into it in the first person. Even for just a dozen pages or so. His experience with his garden is quite a powerful analogy though, and I thought that was very interesting.
Lastly I just couldn’t get over that about 350-400 pages in something happens that felt like it could have been brought in a little earlier towards the climax, but then you still have around 200 pages to go, and from then on Kingsolver gets really overrun with her commentary and opinions. The characters got lost in her manipulations and commentary. Those 200 pages were unnecessary. However, all in all it is a very different piece of historical fiction that has it’s moments!
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
emotional
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Poetic and compelling, with themes touching on religion, colonialism, patriarchy, family dynamics, the morality of mission work, and the ethics of ownership of natural resources. Gorgeously written and beautifully imagined.
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
A fascinating account of missionary life in Congo and its aftermath. Compelling writing, and, if you’re listening to the audiobook, the narrative benefits from an outstanding narrator who delivers Kingsolver’s wry asides in a way that brings levity that helps make the tragedy at the heart of the story easier to digest. I read this immediately after Cobalt Red, an experience that makes that (nonfiction book) that much more troubling.
Perhaps this book was too built up for me. It’s such a highly regarded book and those I know who have read it, have thoroughly enjoyed it. For me, it was just okay.
I felt like the first half of the book was very slow. I didn’t really get into the book until about 150 pages in. The last bit of the book, while interesting to see how each character’s lives moved on, was also just too long.
This is a true epic exploration of colonialism, faith, and family. It was good, but it didn’t blow me away and it’s not a novel I feel like will stay with me.
I felt like the first half of the book was very slow. I didn’t really get into the book until about 150 pages in. The last bit of the book, while interesting to see how each character’s lives moved on, was also just too long.
This is a true epic exploration of colonialism, faith, and family. It was good, but it didn’t blow me away and it’s not a novel I feel like will stay with me.
One of my favorites. I devoured this book. I really should read it again.