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There's something about this book that doesn't hit the mark quite in the same way that The Overstory did. There's something to this that is too sensationalized, too revelatory in parcelling out small intimate details, but ultimately disconnected and a little unmemorable.
Maybe the language isn't poetic enough. Maybe I have a daily, personal, experience with trees in a way that I do not with chickens. Maybe the story started with a vision of freedom and flight, and like the plot, fizzled out and exploded. Maybe it lacks a sense of hope in the end? Maybe it needs less anthropomorphization. Maybe the characters needed to have a better relationship to the chickens and less of a codependent relationship to each other.
Also, Annabelle as a character really doesn't make sense to me, and she's portrayed as an inscrutable yet central figure. Like a chicken messiah or something, but there's nothing really messianic about her in and of herself, just in how people react to her.
Maybe the language isn't poetic enough. Maybe I have a daily, personal, experience with trees in a way that I do not with chickens. Maybe the story started with a vision of freedom and flight, and like the plot, fizzled out and exploded. Maybe it lacks a sense of hope in the end? Maybe it needs less anthropomorphization. Maybe the characters needed to have a better relationship to the chickens and less of a codependent relationship to each other.
Also, Annabelle as a character really doesn't make sense to me, and she's portrayed as an inscrutable yet central figure. Like a chicken messiah or something, but there's nothing really messianic about her in and of herself, just in how people react to her.