This was my first encounter with the work of award-winning author Barbara Kingsolver ("Her 1998 bestseller, The Poisonwood Bible, won the National Book Prize of South Africa, and was shortlisted for both the Pulitzer Prize and PEN/Faulkner Award.) I was directed to this particular book by a reader who (correctly) thought the discussion of Monarch butterflies so central to the book would be of interest to me.
The title refers both to the migratory behavior of the Monarchs and (I presume) to the geographically-shorter but equally complex "flight" of the female protagonist from an increasingly restrictive lifestyle in the mountains of southern Appalachia. I found the latter aspect of the book more compelling than the commentary on climate change (which for me would amount to "preaching to the converted"). I spent 20+ years living in central Kentucky and working with many people whose lifestyle and worldview were not much different from that of Dellarobia Turnbow, the protagonist of the novel. Kingsolver's portrayal is "spot on" - not surprising, since she herself was raised in rural Kentucky.
I won't attempt a full review of the novel. The discussion of Monarch behavior and physiology is comprehensive and well-informed, and will provide some additional insights even to committed butterfly enthusiasts. This detail was new to me:
"Hester called the butterflies "King Billies." She seemed to think each one should be addressed as the king himself. "There he goes, King Billy," she would say. (p. 74)I had to look it up, since my Kentucky acquaintances never used the term.
The name Monarch is probably related to the eponymous appellation "King Billy" used by Canadians; the butterfly has the black and orange colors associated with William of Orange, Coregent with Mary after the Glorious Revolution of 1688 and the hero of Protestant England for his victory over the Catholic James II at the Battle of the Boyne.I enjoy reading works by authors who have enough command of the language to create new turns of phrases or colorful metaphors and similes. Some examples from this book:
"Her every possession was either unbreakable, or broken."And I enjoy encountering new words. (I haven't looked all these up yet):
"The equipment was not necessarily new. Most of it, in fact, seemed to be older than she was, "pre-Reagan admonistration," they both remarked dolefully, as if that had been some Appomattox Court House with the scientists on the losing side."
"She'd asked him to tidy things up, but men and barns were like a bucket of forks, tidy was no part of the equation."
"Dellarobia was amazed he could see roadkill from the backseat. The animal was as flat as a drive-through hamburger."
"She'd seen the man's face. Straining, neck veins and ligaments bulging. He looked like a tied-up horse in a barn fire."
"She could certainly bring over some more from Hester's, as they'd canned about fifty quarts. How could a person never have heard of dilly beans?"Author/cover image at top from Sustainable Kentucky, where the book is also reviewed. The side embed is of a Monarch raised at our home last summer.
"It had no shoulder harnesses in the backseat, only lap belts, so the kids' car seats fit in a sigoggling way that was probably unsafe."
"niddy-noddy" and "Moorit" (a black sheep)