I read the first 10 pages of this book and I doubt that this story is going to be happy. There's been an excessive amount of foreshadowing and the speaker (Ms. Price) has been very blunt about the fact that she is "the mother of children living and dead" (7). At the beginning of the book all members of the family are currently living, so at least one must die before the book is over. The books contents will most likely be controversial because she urges the reader, "be careful. Later on you'll have to decide what sympathy they deserve" (5), in reference to her own children. It's clear that the stories of the children will be divided and although the 14 year old seems like a decent person at this time there is no reason to assume that she won't be dead or 'damned' at the end. At the beginning I was confused about the perspective this book was being written from and it seems to switch every few pages as the mother describes herself in third person, then speaks in first person, and then begins referring to the reader as "you" (6). She seems to be telling her story to one of her children and I predict that it will be revealed that her audience is her stillborn child, her "uncaptured favorite child" (7) who was never ruined by Africa. This mother says the she's "craved your lost, small body" (8), words that could easily describe a stillborn baby as implied by the "small body". So far this book has been overly metaphoric and there's almost too much imagery, but I hope it gets better and that the changes in narration don't become too confusing.
The book so far seems all right. At first, I was a bit unsure of whom the narrator was, but I soon realized that it was the mother, Orleanna Price. She seems really depressed and sad, and her adventure in Africa was anything but a vacation apparently. The opening of the section began by giving a really intimidating description of the African forest that her and her daughters were having lunch in. But even though it was a creepy description, it was beautiful at the same time. I could really tell that Barbara Kingsolver is a fantastic author through her descriptions of the, “poisonous frogs war-painted like skeletons” (5) and the “vines strangling their own kin” (5) which both really helped create a wonderfully detailed picture of the African forest for the reader. However, I do have to agree with Maria that Kingsolver over used imagery in just these first ten pages. I think the author could have done with out a lot of the imagery, and hopefully there is not so much unnecessary imagery and details as the book progresses.
Before I began reading this book, my mother (who has read it) told me that it switches narrators between the five women. I love reading books that do this, so this is one aspect of the book that I am most excited about! Reading the mothers view, I have already gained a good sense of her character, and I am not so sure if she is going to be my favorite. She doesn’t seem to really enjoy life and doesn’t seem like the most powerful women because of her not having a life of her own (9). But, she may turn out to be one of my favorite characters in the book. I can’t wait to continue reading this book!
I agree with you, Maria, that the background that the speaker is establishing about the family's history is written with a confusing mix of first- and third-person perspectives in chapters of different characters, often making ambiguous references (like the one about the "lilies" on p.15)and utilizing metaphors that will gain depth and significance once we make it through more of the book. My first discussion question is: How do we think the narrator(s) will continue to develop the setting of Africa, since so far it has fit into the story as a dreamy, wild destination far away? Does understanding of- and implicit respect for the modern continent come only with maturity (as the sisters grow up and continue their tale of the experience in Africa)?
Now that we're on page 90 I feel like I have a much better understanding of the tone and structure of the book. Each daughter is given the opportunity to narrate a part of the story and doing this allows the reader to here the unique voices of all the girls. Adah tends to be more metaphorical and reflective. She spends a lot of time thinking about those around here, due to her limitations from her disability. She has the time to notice every detail of their home in the Congo and realizes that “in the front room our dining table looks to have come from a wrecked ship” (61), an unobvious discovery. The other sisters, such as Rachel, tend to be far more distracted by themselves and the fact that “color coordination is not a strong point” (43) in their village. Adah also contrasts greatly with her twin Leah by tending to look at the bible and her family with a critical eye, instead of blindly following God and their father without a second thought as Leah blatantly tends to do. Kingsolver’s intent in providing more than one perspective on this ‘adventure’ relates to a comment made by Ms. Price when she says, “Be careful. Later on you will have to decide what sympathy they deserve” (5). The author seems to be intent on assisting us in making this judgment by allowing each woman involved to speak her mind and tell her story, removing potential bias.
I agree with Maria. I also think that Kingsolver has written this book with different narratives and perspectives to help create a more intimate relationship between the reader and the characters. We are able to more easily understand, feel sympathy towards, and form opinions on the characters by being able to hear their side of things. We are then not only forced to hear one idea about a person, but rather we are able to hear both what that character thinks and what others think of them. Also, the contrasting stories being right next to each other help to emphasize some of the characters points about others. For example, Adah frequently shows Leah as being completely obedient to God and her father and wanting to impress both. When the four sisters are walking and see dead baby birds, Leah, “[falls] to her knees in a demonstration of grief on Our Father’s behalf” (63). Leah’s directly follows this section, where she carefully details gardening with her father and the progress of the plants (64). Because Kingsolver put Leah’s part is directly after Adah’s, the reader is able to more clearly see how Leah is extremely obedient to her father.
Question: do you think that Adah would be as open with her thoughts if she could speak them? I was wondering this throughout the text, especially when Adah made really sarcastic comments, like when she explains her father’s style of fishing to be that of, “modern rednecks” (70).
I agree with Maria's accurate observations about Adah. She is certainly a character we can most sympathize with at the moment, because she is less shaped by the strict bias and religious judgments of her father. Adah demonstrates an important patience and open-minded look at the situation in the Congo, comparing her attitude to her family members' well when she says that reading through her book, she "still has discoveries ahead and behind" (58). Leah and her father, in particular, present a stark contrast to Adah, as Livi mentions. The father is full of purpose, as he is the one guiding their work in Kilanga, however the way Leah is pulled along, obediently adhering to the limits of his teachings and his approval, she is bound to learn less on this straight track than Adah. Nevertheless, together, Leah and the father care for the garden tirelessly, watering this plot of land as Kingsolver continues to let the garden as a metaphor take shape and flourish. We should be sure to track the development of the metaphor, but so far I have noticed its changes as an expression of the father's relationship with Africa. At first he stubbornly follows his own routines (38-40), but thereafter learns a harsh but wise lesson from the native people. Towards the end of the section, he has finally applied that lesson and changes the mounds (leading to wild, endless growth in the next weeks), Leah admitting that "Our Father had been influenced by Africa" (63), a sign that he has potential to compromise.
I agree with Elias that at the end of the last section there seemed to be a potential for compromise, but throughout this section Mr. Price has proven himself to be immovable time and time again. He's harsh in terms of punishment and his first reaction to the possibility of Adah's death was "Let us all pray to the lord for mercy and understanding"(140). No truly caring father would react with so little concern for his daughter, and do so in "a commanding voice" (140). I find his view of the women in his life as only necessary objects to be extremely worrying. His willingness to turn a blind eye and accept no advice from family or friend seems to foreshadow only sorrow for his daughters as they attempt to establish themselves. In response to Livi’s question I believe that Adah would not be quite as free with her thoughts out loud because it is her silence that gives her the opportunity to distance herself from the world and observe unhindered. Due to her disabilities her opinions of God and the world have been shaped with a hint of bitterness. Her constant skepticism in contrast with Leah’s faith only seems to stem from their difference in physical ability and a hidden anger that permeates her descriptions of her relationship with Leah; “ Sent together, the twin and the niwt, chained together always in life as in prelife” (135). Her sarcastic tone is undeniable and seems to reflect their worsening relationship.
I found it at first odd the Kingsolver decided to end Book Two with Adah talking not about the recent inauguration of Lumumba or not being able to go home. Once the family learned that they could go home, the end of Book Two centered around that and the reaction’s of the family members. Instead, Adah spoke about the death of Methuselah, specifically the feathers he left behind. Adah mentioned Emily Dickinson’s poem “Hope is the Thing with Feathers”, for the obvious reason of there being feathers on the ground but also because Adah appears to have discovered a tangible hope. Adah first says that she has always thought of Dickinson’s poem as describing hope as being a ball that she could never play with (185), to me meaning that she never believed she could have hope because of her disabilities. But with the easy to grasp feathers left behind by Methuselah, she now has the ability to hold hope. Adah ends her section by saying “feathers at last at last and no words at all” (186), and this made it clear to the reader that Adah being able to hold what she considers the symbol of hope was significant because she could do so with out speaking. Even though this book is not centered on Adah’s disability, this scene allows the reader to understand how Adad is seriously affected by it and feels that she does not have the same opportunities as others.
My last comment was deleted because it was too long.
I agree with Maria that Mr. Price’s stubbornness consistently stands in the way of reasonable compromise with others or visible understanding on his part. Mr. Price continues this attitude when he and his wife refuse to adhere to the Mission League’s request that they leave the Congo. Still, it isn’t some sort of protest, such as the one Orleanna leads (168), but an undying determination to be right and finish an objective as a deeply religious man, not “running away like a coward” (168) but instead staying “in His benevolent service” (169). We could say he is in denial of his uselessness and insurmountable resistance in Kilanga, but he seems to be endowed with tremendous faith in his self-righteousness and divine purpose that no one can argue with. Like Maria said, his focus on his own track and a singular set of beliefs will make it hard for his daughters receive any substantial support. On the other hand, the other Price family members vary in their take on the situation, all (except for Rachel) considering the fact that they have endured so much and won’t just give up now. By now the three younger girls are bound to the country, whether in curiosity and hope like Adah (186) or open-minded wonder like Ruth, but they seem to be blazing paths further and further away from each other, truly writing their own stories despite the structured expectations that should exist for them in a once-conservative Southern family. Could this be Africa’s long-term impact on them?
With a setting and a chaotic family that have been deeply profiled, this section was much more captivating. Just the historical context of a revolution and African-backlash raging around them creates a feeling of their extreme isolation. Having the children, like Ruth May aware of the existence of such a conflict, yet their faith in their divine safety is dwindling, as is clear when they all wish to escape with Brother Fowles (254). Still, what puzzled me about their desire to go with him was that they wouldn't agree with his choice of an African wife or his crazy rambling about the Bible's lack of literal application. And yet, they are so willing to escape from Kilanga with him as their guide. Are they in fear of Nathan's quasi-possessed and overly self-assured state? Or is it the difficulties of the Congo and the daily grind they've come to cope with that they wish to escape? Overall, this section touches extensively on the clash of religion and reality. The girls of the family have begun to rethink their secure, ethnocentric bias (especially Adah and Leah), losing the trust in the mission of the Mission and even satirically noticing that their father is "preaching the gospel of poisonwood" (276). Is Kingsolver arguing through this that one cannot thrive/survive when sticking to the words of the Lord (in a foreign environment)? And, what lengths should it take to concede this? Was imperialism and missionary work then all in vain?
I agree with Elias that this book has gotten much more interesting with the rising sense of tension, and it has also made me slightly more nervous for what is to come. By foreshadowing death early on (p.88) Kingsolver makes every encounter with death, the lion and Ruth May's sickness, seem like a much more serious event with a definite end. I don't believe that Kingsolver is arguing that one cannot survive by sticking to the words of the Lord in a foreign environment. Instead I think she's commenting more on Nathan's stubbornness and inability to adapt and accept that multiple interpretations of the Lord are possible. Mr. Fowles is presented as juxtaposition to Nathan Price, not because of his lack of religious faith, but because of his willingness to separate the Bible and the real world in his mind. Mr. Price prides himself on the fact that “personally [he has] never been troubled by any difficulties in interpreting God’s word” (251), but that is because he takes every word of the Bible literally and as a strict set of rules despite the change in circumstances over the past few hundred years. Mr. Fowles sees the Bible as a guide and himself as the interpreter of that guidebook based on the situation, and because of the introduction of this character Kingsolver is making it clear that she doesn’t hate religion, but she disagrees with those who use it to unwisely rule their lives.
I agree with Maria about the meaning in the different ways that Mr. Price and Mr. Fowles interpret the bible. To expand on her point, I think that Kingsolver may have wanted her message to be a little more broad and to make it clear that people should not be as stubborn as Mr. Price is with ever situation but to instead have the ability to adapt to different situations and learn from them.
One thing I would like to bring up is how Leah needs to have the approval of a man. At the beginning, it was clear that she wanted to be like her father and followed his every command. Now, she seems to be following the footsteps of another man – Anatole. She idolizes him and attempts (just like she used to do with Mr. Price) to be perfect around him. On page 229 when the two are discussing the conflict between the whites and the Congolese, Leah is extremely happy to know that Anatole does not consider her to be one of the bad whites. Before this, on page 227 Leah establishes Anatole’s importance by saying she knew better to one of his questions, which reminded me of how Leah used to act around her father. Do you think that Leah is always in need of a male figure to admire, or do the people that she looks up to always just so happen to be male? Does this go against her slightly feminist ways?
I really don't how to respond to Ruth May's death. In general I think the author should be both shot for this injustice, and revered for her ability to evoke such strong emotions in her readers. I think the scene where all the children are standing around Ruth May's alter in the pouring rain, with "the dust on their feet turned blood-colored"(375), and the rain pouring down their faces as they cry "Mah-dah-mey-I?" was the most moving scene in the book. It felt very profound, final, and climatic. From this point forward nothing would ever be the same for the Price family and there was no going back. Previously there was always a chance to brush off the grief and trudge forward amidst complaints, and dreams of going home, but now there is no going back and the door has been closed. A part of me no longer wants to read the rest of the book because the tragedy will linger over everything and make happiness hard to accept, but I can only congratulate Kingsolver in her ability to make these scenes so meaningful and thought provoking to a reader who is no way emotionally involved.
Maria, you summed up how I felt during that scene. One thing that also stuck out to me was how Mr. Price refrained from giving a sermon during Ruth May’s funeral. I thought this was strange mainly because there was a large crowd there who were all engaged in the happenings. So, why did the father not go out and take advantage of this situation and make a sermon out of it? I think that Kingsolver wanted to show how the remaining women of the Price family were finally becoming independent of Mr. Price, so they were now not afraid to do things without his guidance or with fear of being punished. This is seen explicitly when Orleanna takes charge of the situation and does things completely by her own thought, Leah reciting verses, and is then shown the most abstractly with the rain. To me, the rain symbolized Ruth May’s existence in heaven and how she wanted to give back to the Congo and try to improve their situations. It was not a sudden rain, but rather one where, “the sky groaned and cracked” (373), which shows how Ruth May had to put in a lot of effort in order for it to rain and help out the village. She wanted to make life easier for those she loved and for those who had prayed for her.
I agree with both of you that this climatic scene conjured up a wave of feelings of sadness, injustice, and even self-reflection as the life of a family seemed to die in front of our eyes. Rachel even goes so far as to say that the family would not be able to “hold back the curse that was going to be our history,” (367). As Maria, said this well-crafted turning point in the book serves to break the family’s ties from what they thought would be a simple return since they also believed they had a sort of “get out of jail free” card when it came to having to survive the worst that the Congo could dish out. In a way Ruth May always seemed to be the daughter who had the potential to bring the rest of the family out of its stubbornness and security, as she was the one who learned how to “speak” Kikongo first and befriended many of the other children. She was a pure and adventurous being, yet out of all characters she seemed to Kingsolver to be the right one to die. And there seems to be fair reasoning to this, because eventually the Price family had to soften to the idea of being equal village members, and Ruth May, their ambassador (but suffering baby at the same time) had to be taken away. In the ultimate sign of defeat but also gracious acceptance of their fate, Orleanna shares their belongings with the village, loosening all barriers as she gives even though she has just lost (372). Such paradoxes, which loss can stir up, twist the reader into testing his/her own soul and grappling with the idea of life.
It seems like the rest of the book is going to act as an epilogue and sum up the path's each woman chose to walk. I'm really happy that Adah got into Emory because she really "needed to go to his college" (409). She has spent the last few years of her life struggling to be understood and I think her newfound independence will help her achieve that goal and live, as she needs to. I can't help but wonder what happened to the Reverend because he has been barely mentioned and although I can imagine him continuing to preach, he needs someone to feed him. Orleanna's situation also worries me because she has become so lifeless and even in America she didn’t find immediate relief although she “seems determined to grow tragedy out of herself like a bad haircut” (408). In general I think Kingsolver is definitely making a point in refusing to give these women their happily ever after. Some of the women are much closer to happiness than the others, but they are all facing hardships every day and trying to work through their tragedy on their own. I’m not sure what the next 100 pages will be about, but I hope this book provides a valid conclusion that doesn’t leave us hanging and forever wondering about each Price’s fate.
I agree with Maria. Focusing on Leah, though, her being a nun was the image that I had pictured for her future at the beginning of the book. She mentioned earlier how she didn’t really intend on marrying and it appeared that she was just going to be a tomboy her whole life, so the life of a nun seemed to be something that would appeal to her because she would not have to be a wife or be a “normal” woman. But she entered the convent for a completely different reason: love! Although it was quite predictable that one of the girls was going to fall in love in the Congo, I always enjoy reading books that have a hint of romance. But it was certainly surprising that it was Leah because as she mentioned on page 422, “eggless, unmothering bones” was how she used to see herself. So to be praying for, “the possibility of children” (422) in replacement of sex is a huge change in how Leah’s thinking.
Also, I think that the mother chose to rescue Adah and not Leah because Leah, “outshone [Adah] as usual by her heroism” (414). The mother saw, as the reader did, that Leah adapted better to the jungle environment more than Adah and she had a better chance at surviving than Adah did. Obviously the mother did not want to lose another child, and this was the best plan she could think of to do so.
I'd like to add to Livi's point about the twins that Adah has come righteously come out of the jungle motivated and empowered, while Leah was maybe destined to reframe her whole way of thinking once she gained independence from the life strictly devoted to the church and God's word. For me, the paths they chose and/or were set on are equally compelling because neither girl was stagnant, and both adapted to the transforming environment during the most pivotal period in their teenage development. Even though the twins are undergoing significant struggles, most significantly with love and with loneliness, they are certainly not as lost in the world as Rachel, whose “hopes never got off the ground” (406). Beyond the changes in the books’ four remaining female characters, which are in themselves intriguing, the setting of this novel and the interaction of Westerners with Africa is one of the most fascinating themes for me. The more these ignorant Southerners have learned, the more we have seen their minds open up and the complexity of the revolutionary Congo around them continue to expand. It is essential questions, often those frequently posed by Leah (later in the novel), such as, “Who is the enemy, white men or Africa?” (420) and societal analysis, such as “[God] is making sure that color will matter forever,” (421) that add an important layer of thinking about our captivation with the African continent. In a way, Kingsolver, with the color and depth she adds to the scenario into which the missionary family was put, causes the readers to reassess what they believe to be cross-cultural limitations and ethnocentric biases.
When I put down this book, I wondered, why did Kingsolver decided to end the book with Ruth May? I was expecting the final word to be from Orleanna, since she began the book, and also because we had heard relatively little from her during the last few sections. But aside from that, I thought that Ruth May’s section was a little boring. I didn’t think the book had as powerful an ending as it could have had, and the story with the woman from Bulungu claiming that Kilanga doesn’t exist and that, “there is only a very thick jungle” (542) where Kilanga is supposed to be was a good way to have the reader ponder about the village’s current state and, more importantly, people’s ability to forget. But, her section as a whole just sort of left “blah” feeling. The story did not end with a “bang” like I had hoped it would, and I think that Kingsolver had a good idea about how to end it, but it was not executed very well. I liked how she wrote “walk forward into the light” (543) because this is imagery usually associated with people dying, tying back to what Adah brought up previously about death being okay. Overall, though, I really enjoyed this book and I thought that the majority of it was really captivating, because of the wide range of personalities, the interesting plot, and the brilliant writing.
I both agree and disagree with Livi about the ending of this book. It's true that there was no 'bang', but there really couldn't have been because Kingsolver needed to find a way to sum up the lives of this family without leaving any questions or fully explaining every motive. She has made it clear that as a writer she doesn't leave anything up to the reader because it is her story and she's making a point with every decision that she doubts the reader would interpret on their own. I feel like Ruth May had to show up again at the end because the entire end of the book revolved around the need for Ruth May to say, "I forgive you, Mother" (542). Ruth May was the reason behind all the choices they ended up making and the catalyst that forced them to choose their paths, so she had to have the final say. This entire story has revolved around the search for freedom and each character has found it in their own way. Orleanna escapes her husband and is forgiven by her youngest. Ruth May has gone to a place where she is one with the forest and can be one of those animals should loved to collect and imitate. Adah has found science and acceptance. Rachel found freedom in money. Leah has a family and can fight against wrongs to her hearts content and their Father preached to the very end as the “Minister of Posionwood” (490).
P.S. I was unable to post on time because I was in New Hampshire and lost internet access.
I agree with Maria that even though this ending may seem puzzling at first, it actually makes a lot of sense in terms of the parallelism of the book (starting with saddened Orleanna, end with forgiving Ruth May). Kingsolver set the story straight with very clear closure at the end, which we --as readers expecting more of a bang -- may not see as memorable. However, I think the last, determined message was satisfyingly positive for such a reckless plot. Honestly, I loved this book by the end of this final section; I probably feel this way because of the continuous dialogue about Africa's identity and Westerners' clash with the "less developed" world, which are themes I've grappled with in previous reading and my own reflective writing. Kingsolver built this layer of political, economic, and societal background incredibly well, and it seeped into the clash between Rachel and Leah. Rachel became sickeningly arrogant and blatantly ignorant about her relative position in Africa (513), while Leah seems to be believe she's been "un-converted" and "erased [her] whiteness altogether" (525) as she raises a Congolese family. Interestingly, they both conclude with messages that have forward-thinking individualism in common, Rachel saying one can only fight for oneself (516-517), and Leah envisioning humans going back to self-sufficiency (524). Meanwhile, Adah is, as always, the most thoughtful and reflective. As if physically still slowed by a limp, she does not believe in shooting forward because she values and is loyal to all that has shaped her (532-533). In all, we have to ask ourselves, is it possible to just "move on" (543), like Ruth May preaches?
Kingsolver Acolytes, You have set a high bar of intense, insightful intellectual discourse here. I love how you have each thought so deeply and carefully about the meaning of the text as you read and in preparation for posting. These posts are well constructed, developed, and polished in addition to being filled with excellent ideas and analysis. Kingsolver will smile if she stumbles on this blog!
I read the first 10 pages of this book and I doubt that this story is going to be happy. There's been an excessive amount of foreshadowing and the speaker (Ms. Price) has been very blunt about the fact that she is "the mother of children living and dead" (7). At the beginning of the book all members of the family are currently living, so at least one must die before the book is over. The books contents will most likely be controversial because she urges the reader, "be careful. Later on you'll have to decide what sympathy they deserve" (5), in reference to her own children. It's clear that the stories of the children will be divided and although the 14 year old seems like a decent person at this time there is no reason to assume that she won't be dead or 'damned' at the end.
ReplyDeleteAt the beginning I was confused about the perspective this book was being written from and it seems to switch every few pages as the mother describes herself in third person, then speaks in first person, and then begins referring to the reader as "you" (6). She seems to be telling her story to one of her children and I predict that it will be revealed that her audience is her stillborn child, her "uncaptured favorite child" (7) who was never ruined by Africa. This mother says the she's "craved your lost, small body" (8), words that could easily describe a stillborn baby as implied by the "small body". So far this book has been overly metaphoric and there's almost too much imagery, but I hope it gets better and that the changes in narration don't become too confusing.
The book so far seems all right. At first, I was a bit unsure of whom the narrator was, but I soon realized that it was the mother, Orleanna Price. She seems really depressed and sad, and her adventure in Africa was anything but a vacation apparently. The opening of the section began by giving a really intimidating description of the African forest that her and her daughters were having lunch in. But even though it was a creepy description, it was beautiful at the same time. I could really tell that Barbara Kingsolver is a fantastic author through her descriptions of the, “poisonous frogs war-painted like skeletons” (5) and the “vines strangling their own kin” (5) which both really helped create a wonderfully detailed picture of the African forest for the reader. However, I do have to agree with Maria that Kingsolver over used imagery in just these first ten pages. I think the author could have done with out a lot of the imagery, and hopefully there is not so much unnecessary imagery and details as the book progresses.
ReplyDeleteBefore I began reading this book, my mother (who has read it) told me that it switches narrators between the five women. I love reading books that do this, so this is one aspect of the book that I am most excited about! Reading the mothers view, I have already gained a good sense of her character, and I am not so sure if she is going to be my favorite. She doesn’t seem to really enjoy life and doesn’t seem like the most powerful women because of her not having a life of her own (9). But, she may turn out to be one of my favorite characters in the book. I can’t wait to continue reading this book!
I agree with you, Maria, that the background that the speaker is establishing about the family's history is written with a confusing mix of first- and third-person perspectives in chapters of different characters, often making ambiguous references (like the one about the "lilies" on p.15)and utilizing metaphors that will gain depth and significance once we make it through more of the book.
ReplyDeleteMy first discussion question is: How do we think the narrator(s) will continue to develop the setting of Africa, since so far it has fit into the story as a dreamy, wild destination far away? Does understanding of- and implicit respect for the modern continent come only with maturity (as the sisters grow up and continue their tale of the experience in Africa)?
Now that we're on page 90 I feel like I have a much better understanding of the tone and structure of the book. Each daughter is given the opportunity to narrate a part of the story and doing this allows the reader to here the unique voices of all the girls. Adah tends to be more metaphorical and reflective. She spends a lot of time thinking about those around here, due to her limitations from her disability. She has the time to notice every detail of their home in the Congo and realizes that “in the front room our dining table looks to have come from a wrecked ship” (61), an unobvious discovery. The other sisters, such as Rachel, tend to be far more distracted by themselves and the fact that “color coordination is not a strong point” (43) in their village. Adah also contrasts greatly with her twin Leah by tending to look at the bible and her family with a critical eye, instead of blindly following God and their father without a second thought as Leah blatantly tends to do. Kingsolver’s intent in providing more than one perspective on this ‘adventure’ relates to a comment made by Ms. Price when she says, “Be careful. Later on you will have to decide what sympathy they deserve” (5). The author seems to be intent on assisting us in making this judgment by allowing each woman involved to speak her mind and tell her story, removing potential bias.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Maria. I also think that Kingsolver has written this book with different narratives and perspectives to help create a more intimate relationship between the reader and the characters. We are able to more easily understand, feel sympathy towards, and form opinions on the characters by being able to hear their side of things. We are then not only forced to hear one idea about a person, but rather we are able to hear both what that character thinks and what others think of them. Also, the contrasting stories being right next to each other help to emphasize some of the characters points about others. For example, Adah frequently shows Leah as being completely obedient to God and her father and wanting to impress both. When the four sisters are walking and see dead baby birds, Leah, “[falls] to her knees in a demonstration of grief on Our Father’s behalf” (63). Leah’s directly follows this section, where she carefully details gardening with her father and the progress of the plants (64). Because Kingsolver put Leah’s part is directly after Adah’s, the reader is able to more clearly see how Leah is extremely obedient to her father.
ReplyDeleteQuestion: do you think that Adah would be as open with her thoughts if she could speak them? I was wondering this throughout the text, especially when Adah made really sarcastic comments, like when she explains her father’s style of fishing to be that of, “modern rednecks” (70).
I agree with Maria's accurate observations about Adah. She is certainly a character we can most sympathize with at the moment, because she is less shaped by the strict bias and religious judgments of her father. Adah demonstrates an important patience and open-minded look at the situation in the Congo, comparing her attitude to her family members' well when she says that reading through her book, she "still has discoveries ahead and behind" (58).
ReplyDeleteLeah and her father, in particular, present a stark contrast to Adah, as Livi mentions. The father is full of purpose, as he is the one guiding their work in Kilanga, however the way Leah is pulled along, obediently adhering to the limits of his teachings and his approval, she is bound to learn less on this straight track than Adah.
Nevertheless, together, Leah and the father care for the garden tirelessly, watering this plot of land as Kingsolver continues to let the garden as a metaphor take shape and flourish. We should be sure to track the development of the metaphor, but so far I have noticed its changes as an expression of the father's relationship with Africa. At first he stubbornly follows his own routines (38-40), but thereafter learns a harsh but wise lesson from the native people. Towards the end of the section, he has finally applied that lesson and changes the mounds (leading to wild, endless growth in the next weeks), Leah admitting that "Our Father had been influenced by Africa" (63), a sign that he has potential to compromise.
I agree with Elias that at the end of the last section there seemed to be a potential for compromise, but throughout this section Mr. Price has proven himself to be immovable time and time again. He's harsh in terms of punishment and his first reaction to the possibility of Adah's death was "Let us all pray to the lord for mercy and understanding"(140). No truly caring father would react with so little concern for his daughter, and do so in "a commanding voice" (140). I find his view of the women in his life as only necessary objects to be extremely worrying. His willingness to turn a blind eye and accept no advice from family or friend seems to foreshadow only sorrow for his daughters as they attempt to establish themselves.
ReplyDeleteIn response to Livi’s question I believe that Adah would not be quite as free with her thoughts out loud because it is her silence that gives her the opportunity to distance herself from the world and observe unhindered. Due to her disabilities her opinions of God and the world have been shaped with a hint of bitterness. Her constant skepticism in contrast with Leah’s faith only seems to stem from their difference in physical ability and a hidden anger that permeates her descriptions of her relationship with Leah; “ Sent together, the twin and the niwt, chained together always in life as in prelife” (135).
Her sarcastic tone is undeniable and seems to reflect their worsening relationship.
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ReplyDeleteI found it at first odd the Kingsolver decided to end Book Two with Adah talking not about the recent inauguration of Lumumba or not being able to go home. Once the family learned that they could go home, the end of Book Two centered around that and the reaction’s of the family members. Instead, Adah spoke about the death of Methuselah, specifically the feathers he left behind. Adah mentioned Emily Dickinson’s poem “Hope is the Thing with Feathers”, for the obvious reason of there being feathers on the ground but also because Adah appears to have discovered a tangible hope. Adah first says that she has always thought of Dickinson’s poem as describing hope as being a ball that she could never play with (185), to me meaning that she never believed she could have hope because of her disabilities. But with the easy to grasp feathers left behind by Methuselah, she now has the ability to hold hope. Adah ends her section by saying “feathers at last at last and no words at all” (186), and this made it clear to the reader that Adah being able to hold what she considers the symbol of hope was significant because she could do so with out speaking. Even though this book is not centered on Adah’s disability, this scene allows the reader to understand how Adad is seriously affected by it and feels that she does not have the same opportunities as others.
ReplyDeleteMy last comment was deleted because it was too long.
I agree with Maria that Mr. Price’s stubbornness consistently stands in the way of reasonable compromise with others or visible understanding on his part. Mr. Price continues this attitude when he and his wife refuse to adhere to the Mission League’s request that they leave the Congo. Still, it isn’t some sort of protest, such as the one Orleanna leads (168), but an undying determination to be right and finish an objective as a deeply religious man, not “running away like a coward” (168) but instead staying “in His benevolent service” (169). We could say he is in denial of his uselessness and insurmountable resistance in Kilanga, but he seems to be endowed with tremendous faith in his self-righteousness and divine purpose that no one can argue with. Like Maria said, his focus on his own track and a singular set of beliefs will make it hard for his daughters receive any substantial support.
ReplyDeleteOn the other hand, the other Price family members vary in their take on the situation, all (except for Rachel) considering the fact that they have endured so much and won’t just give up now. By now the three younger girls are bound to the country, whether in curiosity and hope like Adah (186) or open-minded wonder like Ruth, but they seem to be blazing paths further and further away from each other, truly writing their own stories despite the structured expectations that should exist for them in a once-conservative Southern family. Could this be Africa’s long-term impact on them?
With a setting and a chaotic family that have been deeply profiled, this section was much more captivating. Just the historical context of a revolution and African-backlash raging around them creates a feeling of their extreme isolation. Having the children, like Ruth May aware of the existence of such a conflict, yet their faith in their divine safety is dwindling, as is clear when they all wish to escape with Brother Fowles (254). Still, what puzzled me about their desire to go with him was that they wouldn't agree with his choice of an African wife or his crazy rambling about the Bible's lack of literal application. And yet, they are so willing to escape from Kilanga with him as their guide. Are they in fear of Nathan's quasi-possessed and overly self-assured state? Or is it the difficulties of the Congo and the daily grind they've come to cope with that they wish to escape?
ReplyDeleteOverall, this section touches extensively on the clash of religion and reality. The girls of the family have begun to rethink their secure, ethnocentric bias (especially Adah and Leah), losing the trust in the mission of the Mission and even satirically noticing that their father is "preaching the gospel of poisonwood" (276). Is Kingsolver arguing through this that one cannot thrive/survive when sticking to the words of the Lord (in a foreign environment)? And, what lengths should it take to concede this? Was imperialism and missionary work then all in vain?
I agree with Elias that this book has gotten much more interesting with the rising sense of tension, and it has also made me slightly more nervous for what is to come. By foreshadowing death early on (p.88) Kingsolver makes every encounter with death, the lion and Ruth May's sickness, seem like a much more serious event with a definite end. I don't believe that Kingsolver is arguing that one cannot survive by sticking to the words of the Lord in a foreign environment. Instead I think she's commenting more on Nathan's stubbornness and inability to adapt and accept that multiple interpretations of the Lord are possible. Mr. Fowles is presented as juxtaposition to Nathan Price, not because of his lack of religious faith, but because of his willingness to separate the Bible and the real world in his mind. Mr. Price prides himself on the fact that “personally [he has] never been troubled by any difficulties in interpreting God’s word” (251), but that is because he takes every word of the Bible literally and as a strict set of rules despite the change in circumstances over the past few hundred years. Mr. Fowles sees the Bible as a guide and himself as the interpreter of that guidebook based on the situation, and because of the introduction of this character Kingsolver is making it clear that she doesn’t hate religion, but she disagrees with those who use it to unwisely rule their lives.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Maria about the meaning in the different ways that Mr. Price and Mr. Fowles interpret the bible. To expand on her point, I think that Kingsolver may have wanted her message to be a little more broad and to make it clear that people should not be as stubborn as Mr. Price is with ever situation but to instead have the ability to adapt to different situations and learn from them.
ReplyDeleteOne thing I would like to bring up is how Leah needs to have the approval of a man. At the beginning, it was clear that she wanted to be like her father and followed his every command. Now, she seems to be following the footsteps of another man – Anatole. She idolizes him and attempts (just like she used to do with Mr. Price) to be perfect around him. On page 229 when the two are discussing the conflict between the whites and the Congolese, Leah is extremely happy to know that Anatole does not consider her to be one of the bad whites. Before this, on page 227 Leah establishes Anatole’s importance by saying she knew better to one of his questions, which reminded me of how Leah used to act around her father. Do you think that Leah is always in need of a male figure to admire, or do the people that she looks up to always just so happen to be male? Does this go against her slightly feminist ways?
I really don't how to respond to Ruth May's death. In general I think the author should be both shot for this injustice, and revered for her ability to evoke such strong emotions in her readers. I think the scene where all the children are standing around Ruth May's alter in the pouring rain, with "the dust on their feet turned blood-colored"(375), and the rain pouring down their faces as they cry "Mah-dah-mey-I?" was the most moving scene in the book. It felt very profound, final, and climatic. From this point forward nothing would ever be the same for the Price family and there was no going back. Previously there was always a chance to brush off the grief and trudge forward amidst complaints, and dreams of going home, but now there is no going back and the door has been closed. A part of me no longer wants to read the rest of the book because the tragedy will linger over everything and make happiness hard to accept, but I can only congratulate Kingsolver in her ability to make these scenes so meaningful and thought provoking to a reader who is no way emotionally involved.
ReplyDeleteMaria, you summed up how I felt during that scene. One thing that also stuck out to me was how Mr. Price refrained from giving a sermon during Ruth May’s funeral. I thought this was strange mainly because there was a large crowd there who were all engaged in the happenings. So, why did the father not go out and take advantage of this situation and make a sermon out of it? I think that Kingsolver wanted to show how the remaining women of the Price family were finally becoming independent of Mr. Price, so they were now not afraid to do things without his guidance or with fear of being punished. This is seen explicitly when Orleanna takes charge of the situation and does things completely by her own thought, Leah reciting verses, and is then shown the most abstractly with the rain. To me, the rain symbolized Ruth May’s existence in heaven and how she wanted to give back to the Congo and try to improve their situations. It was not a sudden rain, but rather one where, “the sky groaned and cracked” (373), which shows how Ruth May had to put in a lot of effort in order for it to rain and help out the village. She wanted to make life easier for those she loved and for those who had prayed for her.
ReplyDeleteI agree with both of you that this climatic scene conjured up a wave of feelings of sadness, injustice, and even self-reflection as the life of a family seemed to die in front of our eyes. Rachel even goes so far as to say that the family would not be able to “hold back the curse that was going to be our history,” (367). As Maria, said this well-crafted turning point in the book serves to break the family’s ties from what they thought would be a simple return since they also believed they had a sort of “get out of jail free” card when it came to having to survive the worst that the Congo could dish out. In a way Ruth May always seemed to be the daughter who had the potential to bring the rest of the family out of its stubbornness and security, as she was the one who learned how to “speak” Kikongo first and befriended many of the other children. She was a pure and adventurous being, yet out of all characters she seemed to Kingsolver to be the right one to die. And there seems to be fair reasoning to this, because eventually the Price family had to soften to the idea of being equal village members, and Ruth May, their ambassador (but suffering baby at the same time) had to be taken away. In the ultimate sign of defeat but also gracious acceptance of their fate, Orleanna shares their belongings with the village, loosening all barriers as she gives even though she has just lost (372). Such paradoxes, which loss can stir up, twist the reader into testing his/her own soul and grappling with the idea of life.
ReplyDeleteIt seems like the rest of the book is going to act as an epilogue and sum up the path's each woman chose to walk. I'm really happy that Adah got into Emory because she really "needed to go to his college" (409). She has spent the last few years of her life struggling to be understood and I think her newfound independence will help her achieve that goal and live, as she needs to. I can't help but wonder what happened to the Reverend because he has been barely mentioned and although I can imagine him continuing to preach, he needs someone to feed him. Orleanna's situation also worries me because she has become so lifeless and even in America she didn’t find immediate relief although she “seems determined to grow tragedy out of herself like a bad haircut” (408). In general I think Kingsolver is definitely making a point in refusing to give these women their happily ever after. Some of the women are much closer to happiness than the others, but they are all facing hardships every day and trying to work through their tragedy on their own. I’m not sure what the next 100 pages will be about, but I hope this book provides a valid conclusion that doesn’t leave us hanging and forever wondering about each Price’s fate.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Maria. Focusing on Leah, though, her being a nun was the image that I had pictured for her future at the beginning of the book. She mentioned earlier how she didn’t really intend on marrying and it appeared that she was just going to be a tomboy her whole life, so the life of a nun seemed to be something that would appeal to her because she would not have to be a wife or be a “normal” woman. But she entered the convent for a completely different reason: love! Although it was quite predictable that one of the girls was going to fall in love in the Congo, I always enjoy reading books that have a hint of romance. But it was certainly surprising that it was Leah because as she mentioned on page 422, “eggless, unmothering bones” was how she used to see herself. So to be praying for, “the possibility of children” (422) in replacement of sex is a huge change in how Leah’s thinking.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I think that the mother chose to rescue Adah and not Leah because Leah, “outshone [Adah] as usual by her heroism” (414). The mother saw, as the reader did, that Leah adapted better to the jungle environment more than Adah and she had a better chance at surviving than Adah did. Obviously the mother did not want to lose another child, and this was the best plan she could think of to do so.
I'd like to add to Livi's point about the twins that Adah has come righteously come out of the jungle motivated and empowered, while Leah was maybe destined to reframe her whole way of thinking once she gained independence from the life strictly devoted to the church and God's word. For me, the paths they chose and/or were set on are equally compelling because neither girl was stagnant, and both adapted to the transforming environment during the most pivotal period in their teenage development. Even though the twins are undergoing significant struggles, most significantly with love and with loneliness, they are certainly not as lost in the world as Rachel, whose “hopes never got off the ground” (406).
ReplyDeleteBeyond the changes in the books’ four remaining female characters, which are in themselves intriguing, the setting of this novel and the interaction of Westerners with Africa is one of the most fascinating themes for me. The more these ignorant Southerners have learned, the more we have seen their minds open up and the complexity of the revolutionary Congo around them continue to expand. It is essential questions, often those frequently posed by Leah (later in the novel), such as, “Who is the enemy, white men or Africa?” (420) and societal analysis, such as “[God] is making sure that color will matter forever,” (421) that add an important layer of thinking about our captivation with the African continent. In a way, Kingsolver, with the color and depth she adds to the scenario into which the missionary family was put, causes the readers to reassess what they believe to be cross-cultural limitations and ethnocentric biases.
When I put down this book, I wondered, why did Kingsolver decided to end the book with Ruth May? I was expecting the final word to be from Orleanna, since she began the book, and also because we had heard relatively little from her during the last few sections. But aside from that, I thought that Ruth May’s section was a little boring. I didn’t think the book had as powerful an ending as it could have had, and the story with the woman from Bulungu claiming that Kilanga doesn’t exist and that, “there is only a very thick jungle” (542) where Kilanga is supposed to be was a good way to have the reader ponder about the village’s current state and, more importantly, people’s ability to forget. But, her section as a whole just sort of left “blah” feeling. The story did not end with a “bang” like I had hoped it would, and I think that Kingsolver had a good idea about how to end it, but it was not executed very well. I liked how she wrote “walk forward into the light” (543) because this is imagery usually associated with people dying, tying back to what Adah brought up previously about death being okay. Overall, though, I really enjoyed this book and I thought that the majority of it was really captivating, because of the wide range of personalities, the interesting plot, and the brilliant writing.
ReplyDeleteI both agree and disagree with Livi about the ending of this book. It's true that there was no 'bang', but there really couldn't have been because Kingsolver needed to find a way to sum up the lives of this family without leaving any questions or fully explaining every motive. She has made it clear that as a writer she doesn't leave anything up to the reader because it is her story and she's making a point with every decision that she doubts the reader would interpret on their own. I feel like Ruth May had to show up again at the end because the entire end of the book revolved around the need for Ruth May to say, "I forgive you, Mother" (542). Ruth May was the reason behind all the choices they ended up making and the catalyst that forced them to choose their paths, so she had to have the final say.
ReplyDeleteThis entire story has revolved around the search for freedom and each character has found it in their own way. Orleanna escapes her husband and is forgiven by her youngest. Ruth May has gone to a place where she is one with the forest and can be one of those animals should loved to collect and imitate. Adah has found science and acceptance. Rachel found freedom in money. Leah has a family and can fight against wrongs to her hearts content and their Father preached to the very end as the “Minister of Posionwood” (490).
P.S. I was unable to post on time because I was in New Hampshire and lost internet access.
I agree with Maria that even though this ending may seem puzzling at first, it actually makes a lot of sense in terms of the parallelism of the book (starting with saddened Orleanna, end with forgiving Ruth May). Kingsolver set the story straight with very clear closure at the end, which we --as readers expecting more of a bang -- may not see as memorable. However, I think the last, determined message was satisfyingly positive for such a reckless plot.
ReplyDeleteHonestly, I loved this book by the end of this final section; I probably feel this way because of the continuous dialogue about Africa's identity and Westerners' clash with the "less developed" world, which are themes I've grappled with in previous reading and my own reflective writing. Kingsolver built this layer of political, economic, and societal background incredibly well, and it seeped into the clash between Rachel and Leah. Rachel became sickeningly arrogant and blatantly ignorant about her relative position in Africa (513), while Leah seems to be believe she's been "un-converted" and "erased [her] whiteness altogether" (525) as she raises a Congolese family. Interestingly, they both conclude with messages that have forward-thinking individualism in common, Rachel saying one can only fight for oneself (516-517), and Leah envisioning humans going back to self-sufficiency (524). Meanwhile, Adah is, as always, the most thoughtful and reflective. As if physically still slowed by a limp, she does not believe in shooting forward because she values and is loyal to all that has shaped her (532-533). In all, we have to ask ourselves, is it possible to just "move on" (543), like Ruth May preaches?
Kingsolver Acolytes,
ReplyDeleteYou have set a high bar of intense, insightful intellectual discourse here. I love how you have each thought so deeply and carefully about the meaning of the text as you read and in preparation for posting. These posts are well constructed, developed, and polished in addition to being filled with excellent ideas and analysis.
Kingsolver will smile if she stumbles on this blog!