Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver

Being a pretty sturdy Barbara Kingsolver fan already (I really enjoyed Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and The Lacuna and I love The Poisonwood Bible) I was expecting great things from Prodigal Summer. I was not disappointed. This is a truly wonderful novel.

Prodigal Summer is about so many characters, places and things, all created with Kingsolver’s usual skill and attention to detail. Everyone and everything, however, cannot help coming together in some way, whether they like it or not, under the inevitable power of the natural forces that govern the universe. It is really a story about connections. Whether it be Luna moths, coyotes, misunderstood children, or chestnut trees, everyone and everything comes together, leans on each other, and drives each other.

There are three point-of-view characters in Prodigal Summer, a young, intellectual woman living on a farm, a middle-aged woman who prefers to live alone on the mountain and study coyotes, and an old man, set in his ways and seemingly unmovable. Each of their voices is strong and unique, each is interesting and sympathetic, and each has a lot to learn about him or herself and about the people, places and things that interweave to create the physical, emotional and spiritual environment in which they live. Their habitat, if you will.

I love the theme of “connectedness” that pervades this novel. The story finds ways to tie each character to the others and there are constant strong reminders of how we are all connected to the natural world. Whether it’s how we are driven to reproduce ourselves, or what happens when we use large amounts of pesticides, or the results of overhunting of predators, we cannot escape the power of biological forces or the results of our meddling with them. There is also a strong promotion of healthy environmental practices throughout the story, so if you aren’t in favor of that, you probably won’t like this book.

Prodigal Summer was so enjoyable that I was sad to see the characters go when I came to the end. They were still in the midst of their circles and cycles of connections, whether those connections came about by surprise, had been there all along only waiting to be acknowledged, or had to be worked at and achieved. There was a lot more story to be lived, but I was no longer anxious or worried for them. They all seemed to be headed in the right direction and I had to be content.

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