Kindred
It took me a little while to get into Kindred. Not because it's slow - the plot kicks in immediately and refuses to let up. Nor because of the characters; Dana is an everywoman with whom it's very easy to identify. Rather, the language, which I found to be blunt and stilted, kept me distanced from the story for a while.
That language proved to be an asset though. Once Dana is fully engaged with the slave plantation, witnessing and experiencing horrors, Butler's simple, straight-forward language melts away. It's not flowery or overly descriptive. It just presents horror after horror, refusing to sugar-coat them or pack them beneath allusions and metaphor. I went from struggling with the language to being nearly unable to put the book down without even realizing it.
While I wish the book had been able to capture me from the beginning, I'm ultimately glad that the story is presented as it is. Kindred is a short novel, coming in at 265 pages, but there is so much here. So much about love and trust, humanity and monstrosity, the past and the future and the way they're linked. There is sharp insight about how hard it is to break free of the culture that raises you, about how easy it is to judge someone before you share their experiences, about home important love is.
This book is horrifying in a way that, hard as it was to put down, I couldn't just read it. I flipped ahead, needing to know that Dana and Kevin would be reunited and how long it would take. I needed to know how many trips back in time Dana would take, how long she would stay, what horrors would be visited on her. Doing this, getting the outline before the details is a method of self-preservation. It makes it easier to read about awful things when I know that they end eventually. Even if they never end completely, leaving their mark for generations to come.
That language proved to be an asset though. Once Dana is fully engaged with the slave plantation, witnessing and experiencing horrors, Butler's simple, straight-forward language melts away. It's not flowery or overly descriptive. It just presents horror after horror, refusing to sugar-coat them or pack them beneath allusions and metaphor. I went from struggling with the language to being nearly unable to put the book down without even realizing it.
While I wish the book had been able to capture me from the beginning, I'm ultimately glad that the story is presented as it is. Kindred is a short novel, coming in at 265 pages, but there is so much here. So much about love and trust, humanity and monstrosity, the past and the future and the way they're linked. There is sharp insight about how hard it is to break free of the culture that raises you, about how easy it is to judge someone before you share their experiences, about home important love is.
This book is horrifying in a way that, hard as it was to put down, I couldn't just read it. I flipped ahead, needing to know that Dana and Kevin would be reunited and how long it would take. I needed to know how many trips back in time Dana would take, how long she would stay, what horrors would be visited on her. Doing this, getting the outline before the details is a method of self-preservation. It makes it easier to read about awful things when I know that they end eventually. Even if they never end completely, leaving their mark for generations to come.
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