The Poisonwood Bible

I read another Barbara Kingsolver book, The Lacuna, a while ago, and was in two minds about it as I enjoyed the depictions of lives and relationships but was then left cold as the second half descended into dry politics. I was concerned that the brick that is The Poisonwood Bible might go the same way, so was delighted to find that it doesn't. The then current situation in The Congo/Zaire is woven around the immediate story of the Price family but its intricacies are not thoroughly explored so if you're hoping for a more factual novel of the country's upheaval, this might not be the one for you. Instead Kingsolver has created a powerful portrait and caution against the insanity of blind faith and ill-prepared attempts to force one people to the will of another. Her creation of the out-of-their-depth Price family is inspired and I was interested to learn how a Southern 1950s white American family viewed both themselves and their Congolese hosts. Tyrant-father Nathan, believing himself master yet more useless and alienated than anyone due to his refusal to see the Congolese as more than savage children, is the only one whose words we do not directly hear, but his character is rounded out by the five women and girls, his family, existing despite his best efforts(!). I did find it tricky early on in the novel to remember who was speaking but as each develops her own distinctive voice, the sisters and mother each show their Africa from very different viewpoints and it was interesting to see how their varying skills both allowed some entry to Congolese society but also kept them apart. The pages rushed past as I found this novel impossible to put down and have been thinking over it a lot in the couple of days since I finished. There are so many issues raised - family and friendship, race and colonialism, religion and choice, life and survival - that I think I could read The Poisonwood Bible several times, seeing new detail in it with each read. Perhaps this is one that won't get Bookcrossed too quickly!

I was wrong. Years ago I gave up on this book, despising the evil priest, unable to concentrate on anything except the fantasy of him getting eaten by crocodiles in slow motion. This month, at the urging of a friend, I gave it another go. And, as the book progressed, I found my thoughts changing. Becoming more nuanced. I now wanted him to be engulfed alive by driver ants, swarming all over him, entering every orifice, stripping his flesh from the inside and outside. In slow motion. (Unfortunately—spoiler—this does not happen).

Anyhow. This is a difficult and painful book, and I am not its target audience, but I persevered and am glad to have. It’s more than just one book, but it took me too long to see that: there’s the evil priest, sure, but there’s also the women: his conflicted wife, the oh-so-memorable daughters, and the women who keep the village alive despite unimaginable hardships. There’s Kingsolver’s commentary on white saviorism, on religion, on willful ignorance and on the inability of some people to see or listen. The second half is an uncomfortable in-your-face reminder of the suffering that the U.S. and Europe have inflicted on their colonies. Kingsolver’s tone is harsh, angry, but also compassionate; an unexpected complex balance.

Who, though, is her target audience? I still can’t figure that out.

This is a hard review for me to write. I can see many (many) people loved this book, and I absolutely see what they see. The writing is stunning, no question. The story, told from the points of view of each of the female members of the Price family as if in journal entries, really drove home to me how isolated and out of their element they all were. Each member was written differently, each with their own separate, distinct personalities, and it really all went together beautifully.

My hangup with the whole thing was twofold. First, the buildup to the actual climax of the story was excruciatingly slow. The author does her due diligence in making sure we're right there with the Price family, I just failed to really connect with their day-to-day problems. Even when the major events start happening (and really you could argue that there's only two or three of those), once the rubber hits the road so to speak, the story is basically over and you're left with a sizeable chunk of the book left as an epilogue of sorts.

I also expected more inter-family drama. Spoilers ahoy: The author spends a large chunk of time setting up Mr. Price as the villain of sorts, and I surely expected more drama set up between him and the family. Ultimately, though, I'm left waiting for a shoe to drop that never quite hits the ground. The events that unfold are ultimately man vs. nature I'd argue, and Mr. Price is left as an afterthought. I felt sorely unfulfilled at the abrupt end to the Congo saga, and found the last 140 pages or so uninteresting as the Price family separates almost entirely.

Maybe this book just isn't for me. I accept that. It wasn't bad (3 stars is my meh-I-finished) rating, but I also wouldn't read it again, I don't think. Another review here stated at the end, "too much table dressing and not enough meal for me", which I wholeheartedly agree with.

The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver, has been on my TBR pile for such a long time that I'd almost forgotten about it. It was only when I heard Maureen Corrigan reviewing Kingsolver's latest book that I felt a sudden, dire need to read the first book. And shame on me, but I have two more novels by this author that I'd picked up years ago and haven't touched. I might be a hoarder.

Barbara Kingsolver's first novel is indeed riveting and thought-provoking. In 1960, Nathan Price, a Baptist minister from Georgia, takes his wife and four daughters on an ill-advised trip to The Belgian Congo, with the hope of spreading the word of Jesus. Unfortunately, Rev. Price is too arrogant to look and listen to what is going on around him. While his daughters and wife are picking up the local language and having life-changing revelations, he is stubbornly trying to baptize people who have valid reasons for fearing the idea of being dunked in the water. So much is lost in translation, and his daughters and wife know this, but can't reach a man who has become despicable and abusive.

The most powerful thing about this novel, for me, was that the fear and desperation felt by Oleanna and her daughters Rachel, Leah, Adah, and Ruth May was not lost in translation. When it become obvious that they really should leave, their father refuses, so they are stuck. At this point, the story gets downright scary, and this story becomes an urgent read. I dreaded the future for all of them. They are no longer getting any outside help, they have no money, and Rev. Price is not popular. Nevertheless, their poor neighbors do what they can for them; no one wants to see them starve.

This situation had to come to a head, and it did so with a tragedy; poor little Ruth May, after surviving a prolonged illness of malaria, is killed suddenly by a poison snake. I worried about Ruth May the whole time, but this turn of events was a shock. At this point, Orleanna is compelled to act drastically. She feels guilty for so much. With strength she never had before, she drags all their possessions out of their house for the neighbors to pick through, gathers her daugthers and what little she needs, and they make the long, long trek to Leopoldville on foot, where somehow, someway, they will make it out of there. None of them even glance back at Nathan Price.

The Price family is never to be together again, and its members are deeply changed. Each of the three surviving daughters builds a life around what they have taken away. It is not even possible to imagine what their lives would have been, had they stayed in Georgia.

The Poisonwood Bible is about so many things! The corrupt, greedy European and American powers that purposely keep African nations in debt, that set up puppet governments that they can control, and imprison anyone for speaking out against them. The arrogant missionaries and businessmen who use the Congolese people for their own purposes, and of course the appalling racism. Personally, for the Price women, the religion that was the centerpiece of their lives before looks different to them now.

It's a powerful tome. My only criticism is that some parts at the end of the book seem to be longer than they should be, so that the pace felt like it was dropping from urgent to languid. However, I thought the ending, with Ruth May's voice, was very effective. This is a very important story and I'm glad that I finally read it.