The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver

I wish I had written about this book when it was fresh, 5 months ago. It haunted me then. It's beauty and ugliness haunted me. Though not as poignant as it was then, the story's images and questions still find there way into my thoughts.

The Poisonwood Bible is the best written and most moving piece of fiction I can think of.

I miss hearing from Leah, Ruth May, Adah. And I miss Rachel as a teenager when her perspective seems humorous because she'll grow out of it. Kingsolver writes in a way that they feel like sisters to me. Sisters I am close to, sisters that frustrate me, that I love.

Beyond that, the life in deep Africa opened my eyes. It made me wonder how I am American and I don't have the slightest idea about what America does. Do U.S. leaders ever talk to the people they are scared of? What do we really know of other places until we live with them, hear them and love them? How often do we hurt people and countries? How many pies does Uncle Sam have his fingers in? Is U.S. foreign policy typically helping itself more than wanting to help others? What is going on now in the Congo? What can be done? What is (and isn't) the U.S. doing to help?

More than anything this book left me thinking I need to change something. Something about myself maybe, about my community. But what I am supposed to change? I still can't put my finger on it. What am I supposed to learn? Did anyone change for the better in this book? Adah I think. What is the lesson Kingsolver is wanting me to walk away with here? I don't know, but I love thinking about it.

I recommend this book to every thinker.