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A review by isabellarobinson7
Kindred by Octavia E. Butler
5.0
Rating: 5 stars
When I took this book to the counter after scoring a near-new copy at a second hand book store (something that rarely happens), the lady serving me said, and I quote, “this is really good”. I can now confirm after finishing the book, Kindred is indeed really, really, REALLY good.
The premise of Kindred is more or less quite simple: Dana, a 26-year-old African American woman living in California in the 1970’s, is in the process of moving into an apartment with her new husband, Kevin, when she is abruptly yanked back in time to the antebellum South. Dana has been called to help Rufus, a white plantation owner’s son, who is drowning. Over the course of the novel she is continuously brought back into the past whenever Rufus’ life is in danger, incidents which seem to only increase as he gets older.
Now that I have the basic premise explained (not that many of you were unaware of it anyway) I have to briefly rant about Rufus. (Spoiler: this is the only "brief" section of the whole review.) Ooooooooo he is so hateable! And I knew I would think this, but that doesn’t help the fact that Rufus is still a doofus! Just a huge dick, in absolutely everything he does! He starts out the novel as a little boy, and you can’t really fault him because he is a child and a product of the society he has been born into, but then when he turns into a man (a young man, albeit) and he is a doofus! You just want to squash his bloody face in because of all the dumb things he does!!
I know forgiveness is more to the benefit of the person who was done wrong against than wrong-doer themselves, but Dana seemed to forgive Rufus no matter what he did. It was never by the drop of the hat, she had to work towards the forgiveness, but she pretty much always got there in the end. Honestly, I admire someone who has that much resolve and personal strength to acknowledge that holding this bitterness towards Rufus in her heart would have done her more harm than good. Because all in all, Dana couldn’t quite bring herself to fully hate Rufus. I am also someone who finds it difficult to flat out hate people, but the line I draw is with injustice. For better or for worse, if someone is not getting what they deserve, it angers me. And by golly did Rufus deserve a thorough pummeling.
Reading other people’s reviews, I found that they also saw that Dana compromised in a few ways regarding how she treated Rufus, how she let people treat others. I, too, had this in my mind too while reading. If it was from a white author, I think most would find this problematic and criticise harshly because it. But because Octavia E. Butler was a black woman herself, I think perhaps she had some other reason for writing Dana this way. I also wonder how much Dana was self insert for Butler. Is Dana written like this because Butler feels it is how she herself would react to the situation?
A character I found to be one of the most nuanced in the whole book was Alice. The amount of mixed reactions and emotions that came from the character of Alice was so well written. The way she would lash out at people, but then be so timid and submissive the next minute felt so incredibly human of her, that my brain took some time to remember she was a fictional, not historical, character and that I couldn’t spend the next hour reading her Wikipedia page. Even the way she was a hindrance to the plot at times made her feel all the more real. I obviously don’t blame any of this on Butler, because what Alice was going through was horrific in any and every sense of the word. Instead, I praise Butler for writing Alice this way, because it made her and the rest of the story feel so tangible. Rufus also felt real, but for very different reasons. (See above.)
One thing I was really surprised about when reading Kindred was the marriage. I knew Octavia E. Butler was never married in her all too short life, and so it was a surprise to see her writing about such a healthy relationship! I didn’t expect to care for Kevin as much as I did! As someone who has never been even remotely close to marrying before, I am usually not overly fond of the love interest in books. There are notable exceptions, but even then there’s only two or three, and this seems to be one of them. Kevin and Dana are put through the absolute wringer in this book, yet they remain true to each other despite both having many opportunities to do otherwise, and come out the other side stronger. (Honestly though, we do need to start a GoFundMe page for counseling for Kevin and Dana.)
I was also impressed to find out that Kindred is one of the only examples in American literature of the 20th century to feature an interracial married couple. Now, I personally didn’t grow up in the States, and where I did (in Australia and New Zealand) we had different race relations issues. So while I was familiar with marriages between two people from different backgrounds, (one couple in particular were family friends growing up), I’m not going to be naive and say that it was commonplace. Plus, I am Pākehā/NZ European/White/need lots of suncream, so am far from the best person to comment on this.
Something I can confidently comment on in regards to this book is the time travel factor. I like to think I am rather well versed in this particular are of sci fi, though there are undoubtably more knowledgable people on the topic than myself, and often pick up books solely based on the trope alone (to varying levels of success). In terms of timey-whimey sci fi stories, Kindred is on the softer end. The method of travel is never really discussed, nor underlying reasons why, and the technical mechanics of Dana’s trips are not once brought up, i.e. no flux capacitors are involved. I was also surprised how many people Dana tells about her time traveling. A common element in time travel stories is characters attempting to blend in: stealing period-appropriate clothing off of washing lines, pulling recently discarded newspapers out of bins in order to discover the date, using a different name when one’s regular alias is deemed too modern or out of place… this kind of thing crops up again and again when time travel is utilised. And then here comes Dana, a black woman from California, waltzing up in jeans and a t-shirt with a bag full of aspirin to an 1800’s plantation! (This is not a critique of Butler’s writing, as it was clear she purposefully chose to focus on other ideas and themes in the novel rather than fully fleshing out the time travel aspect.)
And then there was the ending. The ending! I won’t spoil anything, but if you’re like me, and see that there are only 10 pages left and get quite worried because we are still well and truly in the thick of the story, you have nothing to fear. All I can say is trust Octavia E. Butler. Trust in her writing talent. Because she got there. She finished the book well. Somehow, defying all my expectations, she concluded her novel in very few pages. This is honestly making me think twice about the “too many pages/too little pages” anxiety most of us get when approaching the end of a book.
After reading Doomsday Book the other year, I have been slowly making my way through Connie Willis’ back catalog. I am now about one story collection and one novel away from reading (effectively) her entire bibliography. I was on the lookout for another author to casually read over the next couple of years once I have finished with Willis’ works. You could argue that this decision is premature as I have only read one book by her, but I think Butler might be that author.
What else can I say about Kindred?! There’s so much to say! I could write an entire dissertation (I am effectively half way there at this point) about every character and narrative choice and plot point in this book, because it was all really that incredible. So in conclusion (yes, I am finally ending this thing) I can only return to what I was told when I purchased this book: Kindred is truly really, really, mind-bogglingly good and it is my own fault for not getting to it sooner.
When I took this book to the counter after scoring a near-new copy at a second hand book store (something that rarely happens), the lady serving me said, and I quote, “this is really good”. I can now confirm after finishing the book, Kindred is indeed really, really, REALLY good.
The premise of Kindred is more or less quite simple: Dana, a 26-year-old African American woman living in California in the 1970’s, is in the process of moving into an apartment with her new husband, Kevin, when she is abruptly yanked back in time to the antebellum South. Dana has been called to help Rufus, a white plantation owner’s son, who is drowning. Over the course of the novel she is continuously brought back into the past whenever Rufus’ life is in danger, incidents which seem to only increase as he gets older.
Now that I have the basic premise explained (not that many of you were unaware of it anyway) I have to briefly rant about Rufus. (Spoiler: this is the only "brief" section of the whole review.) Ooooooooo he is so hateable! And I knew I would think this, but that doesn’t help the fact that Rufus is still a doofus! Just a huge dick, in absolutely everything he does! He starts out the novel as a little boy, and you can’t really fault him because he is a child and a product of the society he has been born into, but then when he turns into a man (a young man, albeit) and he is a doofus! You just want to squash his bloody face in because of all the dumb things he does!!
I know forgiveness is more to the benefit of the person who was done wrong against than wrong-doer themselves, but Dana seemed to forgive Rufus no matter what he did. It was never by the drop of the hat, she had to work towards the forgiveness, but she pretty much always got there in the end. Honestly, I admire someone who has that much resolve and personal strength to acknowledge that holding this bitterness towards Rufus in her heart would have done her more harm than good. Because all in all, Dana couldn’t quite bring herself to fully hate Rufus. I am also someone who finds it difficult to flat out hate people, but the line I draw is with injustice. For better or for worse, if someone is not getting what they deserve, it angers me. And by golly did Rufus deserve a thorough pummeling.
Reading other people’s reviews, I found that they also saw that Dana compromised in a few ways regarding how she treated Rufus, how she let people treat others. I, too, had this in my mind too while reading. If it was from a white author, I think most would find this problematic and criticise harshly because it. But because Octavia E. Butler was a black woman herself, I think perhaps she had some other reason for writing Dana this way. I also wonder how much Dana was self insert for Butler. Is Dana written like this because Butler feels it is how she herself would react to the situation?
A character I found to be one of the most nuanced in the whole book was Alice. The amount of mixed reactions and emotions that came from the character of Alice was so well written. The way she would lash out at people, but then be so timid and submissive the next minute felt so incredibly human of her, that my brain took some time to remember she was a fictional, not historical, character and that I couldn’t spend the next hour reading her Wikipedia page. Even the way she was a hindrance to the plot at times made her feel all the more real. I obviously don’t blame any of this on Butler, because what Alice was going through was horrific in any and every sense of the word. Instead, I praise Butler for writing Alice this way, because it made her and the rest of the story feel so tangible. Rufus also felt real, but for very different reasons. (See above.)
One thing I was really surprised about when reading Kindred was the marriage. I knew Octavia E. Butler was never married in her all too short life, and so it was a surprise to see her writing about such a healthy relationship! I didn’t expect to care for Kevin as much as I did! As someone who has never been even remotely close to marrying before, I am usually not overly fond of the love interest in books. There are notable exceptions, but even then there’s only two or three, and this seems to be one of them. Kevin and Dana are put through the absolute wringer in this book, yet they remain true to each other despite both having many opportunities to do otherwise, and come out the other side stronger. (Honestly though, we do need to start a GoFundMe page for counseling for Kevin and Dana.)
I was also impressed to find out that Kindred is one of the only examples in American literature of the 20th century to feature an interracial married couple. Now, I personally didn’t grow up in the States, and where I did (in Australia and New Zealand) we had different race relations issues. So while I was familiar with marriages between two people from different backgrounds, (one couple in particular were family friends growing up), I’m not going to be naive and say that it was commonplace. Plus, I am Pākehā/NZ European/White/need lots of suncream, so am far from the best person to comment on this.
Something I can confidently comment on in regards to this book is the time travel factor. I like to think I am rather well versed in this particular are of sci fi, though there are undoubtably more knowledgable people on the topic than myself, and often pick up books solely based on the trope alone (to varying levels of success). In terms of timey-whimey sci fi stories, Kindred is on the softer end. The method of travel is never really discussed, nor underlying reasons why, and the technical mechanics of Dana’s trips are not once brought up, i.e. no flux capacitors are involved. I was also surprised how many people Dana tells about her time traveling. A common element in time travel stories is characters attempting to blend in: stealing period-appropriate clothing off of washing lines, pulling recently discarded newspapers out of bins in order to discover the date, using a different name when one’s regular alias is deemed too modern or out of place… this kind of thing crops up again and again when time travel is utilised. And then here comes Dana, a black woman from California, waltzing up in jeans and a t-shirt with a bag full of aspirin to an 1800’s plantation! (This is not a critique of Butler’s writing, as it was clear she purposefully chose to focus on other ideas and themes in the novel rather than fully fleshing out the time travel aspect.)
And then there was the ending. The ending! I won’t spoil anything, but if you’re like me, and see that there are only 10 pages left and get quite worried because we are still well and truly in the thick of the story, you have nothing to fear. All I can say is trust Octavia E. Butler. Trust in her writing talent. Because she got there. She finished the book well. Somehow, defying all my expectations, she concluded her novel in very few pages. This is honestly making me think twice about the “too many pages/too little pages” anxiety most of us get when approaching the end of a book.
After reading Doomsday Book the other year, I have been slowly making my way through Connie Willis’ back catalog. I am now about one story collection and one novel away from reading (effectively) her entire bibliography. I was on the lookout for another author to casually read over the next couple of years once I have finished with Willis’ works. You could argue that this decision is premature as I have only read one book by her, but I think Butler might be that author.
What else can I say about Kindred?! There’s so much to say! I could write an entire dissertation (I am effectively half way there at this point) about every character and narrative choice and plot point in this book, because it was all really that incredible. So in conclusion (yes, I am finally ending this thing) I can only return to what I was told when I purchased this book: Kindred is truly really, really, mind-bogglingly good and it is my own fault for not getting to it sooner.