Scan barcode
A review by cathodg
Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens
5.0
There are some books that just sing to you. They sweep you along in their story like a soft melody sung by a mother soothing a child. Delia Owens does this majestically in Where the Crawdads Sing.
Set in North Carolina between the 1950s and 1970s there are echoes of the writing of Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, Harper Lee. Because of this, despite having never been to America there is something familiar about the setting, and that familiarity allows you to quickly fall into the book. It is a small town world, a place where people all know each other. But it is also a world where children can be forgotten, lost, allowed to live outside of society. A world where small-town gossip can mark a person for life and quite possibly lead a police investigation.
Delia Owens took me out of my house and on to beaches covered in gulls, lagoons with kingfishers, herons, woods with owls. Green, brown and yellow marshes filled with mushrooms, insects, butterflies. She creates a magical world on the edge of a small village in North Carolina. But there is a darker side to the marshes, the townspeople don’t understand the marsh people, they have predisposed ideas about how they live. But living in the heart of it is a beautiful and intelligent child, who becomes a woman, growing amongst nature Kya is reserved and thoughtful but also a natural survivor.
The characters are compelling, the plot left me guessing and any twists are beautifully crafted. There is nothing wasted, each moment and person has a place and reason to be there on the page.
Where the Crawdads Sing is beautiful. I have in recent years found great comfort in books connecting with nature. There is a quiet comfort that comes from recognising our place in nature, how our interactions affect our place in the world. Reading this book makes me long for the solitude and tranquillity that comes from being outside. To sit beneath a sky of stars, to watch the movement of a bee going from flower to flower collecting pollen. We miss so much when we rush through the world. But when we stand outside of it we can become vulnerable. Like many animals in nature, we need a pack around us whether we realise they are there or not.
Set in North Carolina between the 1950s and 1970s there are echoes of the writing of Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, Harper Lee. Because of this, despite having never been to America there is something familiar about the setting, and that familiarity allows you to quickly fall into the book. It is a small town world, a place where people all know each other. But it is also a world where children can be forgotten, lost, allowed to live outside of society. A world where small-town gossip can mark a person for life and quite possibly lead a police investigation.
Delia Owens took me out of my house and on to beaches covered in gulls, lagoons with kingfishers, herons, woods with owls. Green, brown and yellow marshes filled with mushrooms, insects, butterflies. She creates a magical world on the edge of a small village in North Carolina. But there is a darker side to the marshes, the townspeople don’t understand the marsh people, they have predisposed ideas about how they live. But living in the heart of it is a beautiful and intelligent child, who becomes a woman, growing amongst nature Kya is reserved and thoughtful but also a natural survivor.
The characters are compelling, the plot left me guessing and any twists are beautifully crafted. There is nothing wasted, each moment and person has a place and reason to be there on the page.
Where the Crawdads Sing is beautiful. I have in recent years found great comfort in books connecting with nature. There is a quiet comfort that comes from recognising our place in nature, how our interactions affect our place in the world. Reading this book makes me long for the solitude and tranquillity that comes from being outside. To sit beneath a sky of stars, to watch the movement of a bee going from flower to flower collecting pollen. We miss so much when we rush through the world. But when we stand outside of it we can become vulnerable. Like many animals in nature, we need a pack around us whether we realise they are there or not.