My Review of "The Poisonwood Bible" - A "bible" I can read and remember!

I did it!  I completed 543 pages of an entire novel.  Holy cow, I didn't think this was possible when I started this literacy challenge on April 1st. 

But Barbara Kingsolver's "The Poisonwood Bible" kept my attention the ENTIRE time.  In fact, for over a week now, I outright ignored my 2.5 year old daughter as I finished section after section.  You can just picture me pushing her in a swing on our outdoor patio, with one hand on the swing and the other one flipping pages in the book.  That was me all weekend long and even this morning as I chowed down on the last few chapters. 

Spoiler Alert:  If you haven't read this book and you want to, you may want to consider skipping this post.  I reveal lots of things about the novel that may ruin it for you!   Sorry, I can't help it!

This book consumed me with intrigue, just like the characters in the novel were consumed with guilt and the need to understand their place in this world.  As I read the stories, I cried twice, laughed out loud more than a dozen times and hung my mouth open in utter shock on more times than I can count.

Where do I begin to explain this bible of a book?  Reading the story of the Price family makes me wish that I had recently read the Christian bible, King James version.  (Confession:  I have not opened the pages of that book in over a decade now.  If I had, would I view this book differently?) 

"The Poisonwood Bible" had me thinking a lot about my own spirtual confusion and religious uncertainties.  I've mentioned them here on this blog before, many months ago.  But that is a topic that I can't dive into today.  That is for a later post.  Or perhaps even it's own monthly (or rest-of-my-life) challenge that I will endure soon. 

This post is about this beautifully written, tragic and triumph story by Mrs. Kingsolver, told through the eyes of four daughters and their guilt-stricken mother.  I loved the story and the five women who told it. 

My favorites were reading the plot from sisters Rachel and Ruth May's points of view.  Out of the four sisters, I am most like the twins Leah and Adah.  Therefore, that is why I preferred reading the accounts from the eyes of Rachel and Ruth May. 

Rachel is the materialistic, self-centered eldest daughter.  I couldn't stop laughing when the ants were crawling all over the village and they were fleeing to the river but she ran back to grab her hand-held mirror.  And of course, her mispronunciation of so many common words was very comical to me as well.  Rachel is consumed with worldy possessions, instead of the real world around her.  She elbowed her way to safety out of the Congo and through several husbands until she obtained the life she dreamed of.   She is the Scarlett O'Hara of the story, doing whatever it takes to get what she wants and have the good life.  Love her or hate her, she remains true to her very selfish nature through the end.  For that, I kind of admire her.  She is who she is.   

Ruth May is the almost-innocent, comical five year old.  From the first moment she discussed her fears of being boiled in a pot by African assumed-cannibals to her playing "Mother, May I?" with the village children, I simply adored her.  She was just as a child should be -- a little daring, a little defiant and full of charm.  Her death had me in absolute tears. I had a feeling after I read the mother Orleanna's words in the beginning of the novel regarding three daughters being on land and one in the red soil that one of them was going to die. And for some reason, I suspected it would be Ruth May because of her youth and naivety. Still I was stunned at the circumstances that caused her death and how it affected me. I glanced over at my two year old baby imagining how I'd deal with that tragedy.  I wept at the end when Ruth May (a.ka. the eyes from the trees) was telling her mother to forgive herself regarding her death and all that happened in the Congo.

Leah made such an opposite transition -- from devout daughter and believer in God Almighty to a disobedient, independent who later prayed to pagan gods, earth, inanimate objects and more in order to keep her beloved family safe from harm.  She is the ultimate believer in justice even despite all she endures.  Leah found herself in Africa and made a real home there.  Still for decades she was filled with visions of hope with the help of her soulmate Anatole. While she spent most of the novel suffering for the color of her white skin in a world of dark Africans, in the final chapters she saw the blurred color lines in her own four children. You have to admire her courage and her strength.  I think she is more like her mother than she realizes.  

Adah, the crippled sister spent more than half the story feeling left behind in her own dark thoughts, refusing to speak even though she could.  She felt abandoned by the world, especially from her mother and twin sister Leah.  At first I didn't know whether to shrug my shoulders at her or join her backwards verse and poetry club, as I love Emily Dickinson too.  Adah, in my opinion, makes the biggest transformation of all the sisters when she later gains control of her once limp physical arm, leg and that supposed delayed part of her brain.  She goes on to medical school and learns about the diseases that plagued her family and the people of Congo for all of civilization.  Still, Adah has a hard time grasping her new "normal" life and never forgets who she was and how she once viewed life.  In many ways, that will always "cripple" her from utter happiness. 

The mother, Orleanna lives under the shadow of her overbearing reverend husband Nathan.  Rarely does she ever stick up for herself or her girls.  When she does, she is told to "shut up," or her favorite china pan is broken in two.  You find yourself shouting at her, "Leave!  Find a way to get out with your daughters, damn it!"  Then later on you hear the real story on why Reverend Price has come to be the overbearing, hellfire and brimstone Southern Baptist man that he is and you realize why she stays with him.  Orleanna does the best she can for her girls and tries to keep them accustomed to their American ways in the beginning.  Later she goes from the woman who hid Betty Crocker cake mixes and other possessions in her pockets as she traveled to Africa to a woman who lives in a Georgia shack and hardly wears shoes. 

When the mother Orleanna explained why Ruth May was her "favorite" of the four daughters, I didn't know whether to roll my eyes in disgust or admire her pure honesty. Since I only have one child now, I don't have her dilemma. But I've often wondered if every parent has a favorite among two or more of their children.  Not that you love one of children more or less, but how a parent internalizes liking one more and how to deal with that favoritism.  At the end of the novel Adah asks her why Ruth May was favored during the ant destruction then later why she was chosen to ride in the ferry boat over Leah. Orleanna explains to Adah that notion of placement -- a mother can only baby her youngest first, then go up from there.  The youngest ones need her the most and that is that. 

The father, Reverend Nathan Price -- where do you begin with him?  His desire to baptize every child in the Congo with no consideration and compromise to what the river's waters really mean to the villagers becomes his downfall.  Nathan never sees any concept or belief other than his way.  For his way is "God's way".  He is preaching the gospel like it was "Jesus Christ" himself.  You spend the majority of the story hating him and wanting to throw him to the crocodiles.  At least, I did.  Then his wife Orleanna tells his story of being wounded in the war and how he came back a changed man.  After that, you pity him.  You know he has no chance of happiness and no chance at bringing salvation to this place where he uprooted his entire family to their almost doom.  In the end though, I suppose he did get what he wanted and deserved.

There are so many underlying themes in this book.  The biggest one that comes to my mind, however, is the importance of place -- both in where the Price family members make their home (in Africa vs. American soil) and where the girls lie in order of birth (the youngest to the oldest daughter) because that chronological offspring placement makes a huge impact in the story.  Other themes in this book include racism, class systems, democracy, religion, family ties, guilt, nature, etc. etc.  You name it, this novel covers it, in some small way. 

Each member of the Price family had a different mindset and a different goal.  Their stories covered several decades full of war, tragedy and acts of courage.  I won't even divulge into the political aspects of the novel.  Because, for me, the book was mostly about the family and their differences.  I think Rachel said it best when she revealed the following:  "What happened to us in the Congo was simply the bad luck of two opposite worlds crashing into each other, causing tragedy.  After something like that, you can only go on with your own way according to what's in your heart.  And in my family, all our hearts seem to have whole different things inside."

That was probably the smartest observation that Rachel made throughout the entire novel.  Each of the ladies had their own way of moving on (or not letting go) of their past experiences.  In the end, I believe that they all were a little wiser in the ways of life, nature and the essence of mankind. 

Kingsolver's book truly amazed me as an aspiring writer.  The intricate details that she put into describing the places and its people was beautiful and breathtaking.  As I said, the "place" is just as important to the story as its characters in this book.

I realize after reading this story that the setting is my current biggest hang-up -- Months ago, I began a book draft of colorful characters but have not found a "place" for them to dwell yet.  I haven't determined where they live and where they will go.  As a writer, I forgot how important the place is and means to the story.  I am determined, however, to follow-up with some homework on this topic.  Perhaps I will even use next month's challenge to explore the idea of place and history to a novel or short story. 

Kingsolver's "The Poisonwood Bible" is quite a work of art, even though it's filled with grief and horrific events.  The author shifts between characters and time frames but still captivates the reader with each unfolding word and point of view.  This book is a true gift and I definitely recommend it to others.