Prodigal Summer

I’ve written about how much I love Barbara Kingsolver’s books before, and my promiscuity really knows no bounds when it comes to her books. She is one of a few authors whose work I will pick up and read not really even caring what the book is about. The grace and mysticism with which she writes about human relationships is just too good to pass up.

Prodigal Summer tells three stories that don’t necessarily overlap other than taking place in the same county during the same sultry summer. There are Deanna and Eddie who collide despite their polarizing differences; Lusa whose world collapses and who finds herself facing choices she didn’t know she was prepared to tackle; and Garnet and Nannie, elders who go to lengths to work at odds even as they try to preserve the same land. Kingsolver is able to intertwine the stories in a way that makes them feel relevant to one another and not at all choppy or out-of-place. They are full of heartbreak, humor, lessons in biology and conservation, and the underlying truth that everyone has needs and those needs are oftentimes much more similar than we realize.

Prodigal Summer is alive with life and brought two things to my attention that I previously hadn’t noticed:

1. There are no antagonists in Kingsolver’s stories. There are people who antagonize one another, but there is no single character or group who plays the “bad guy” or wicked stepmother. I really appreciate this as in life there are no evil characters, just folks who, through their own needs, are antagonistic. We are all humans, we all have needs, and sometimes we step on one another in an effort to fulfill those needs.

2. In Kingsolver’s writing, the setting is a character in the story alongside the human players. The mountain comes alive as the coyotes return, bringing Eddie and Deanna together. Lusa comes out of the ash of her life and into gardens that refuse to stop producing. And Garnet and Nannie bicker over how to tame the wild land they farm as it grows out of control. This overabundance coupled with some intensely beautiful human intimacy lends undertones of reproduction and sweaty connection to the stories that give them a very organic feel, like the whole thing is happening in a hothouse.

This was a great book to read in July, particularly during the hot hot heat that we’ve had recently in Minnesota. Prodigal Summer takes place in southern Appalachia, a part of the country I know nothing about, but it sounded eerily familiar. Minnesota is known for, if nothing else, the diversity of weather we get and the book could have just as easily taken place here. There is going to come a time when I will need to read Kingsolver’s catalogue a second time and I’ll be sure to read this one in the summer, it just doesn’t belong anywhere else.