Stealing thunder, tucking it in my pocket to save for the long drought. Although Kingsolver is very proud of her training as a biologist, this smacks more of religion than biology.
Indeed, a key word of this book is "reverence". Especially, she reminds the reader that American culture was created through dissent, through constant challenges to the status quo.
Each piece is - in the way of most things - political for it states a clear perspective and opinion on something, and I really like that. The title essay of the book, "Small Wonder", takes as its starting point a tale about a bear who suckled a runaway child in Iran.
That is partly because of her prose style, which is overdone compared to that of her novels, with too many spectacular, magnificent, miraculous, wondrous, sacred, unbelievable adjectives leaking out when what you want are particular details.
And well, that about says it. Kingsolver marshals some fine arguments to her cause. Her arguments too often fall, at the crunch point, into this kind of naive utterance that, however sincere - and Kingsolver is nothing if not sincere - slips away from precise argument and into woolly reassurance.
And life is a slow trek along the path toward realizing how that wish will go unfulfilled. This uncomfortable mixture of precision and woolliness characterises all her essays. She tends to sidestep that tough stuff in favour of fuzzy appeals to the soul.
To turn such a very unusual bear into a symbol of the reliable gentleness of nature seems to be pushing it a bit. Dreaming in the color green, tasting the end of anger. But although I was rooting for these essays from the first page, over and over again, just as Kingsolver was heating up the rhetoric, I would find myself turning cold.
But then we get to the last paragraph, and her final rhetorical flourish. There we have to make our peace with all we need of sorrow, and all we can ever know of the divine, by whatever name we call it.
Some novelists came a cropper by suddenly trying to pontificate about politics last year, but you might think that a writer such as Kingsolver, who has always worked within a visible moral framework, would find the transition easier than most.
But if you are going to attack popular pursuits such as eating strawberries in winter, or supporting the war on terrorism, or living in cities, or even watching television something Kingsolver has turned her back onyou may have to do more than just raise your eyes heavenward when the going gets tough.
She desperately wants to challenge the status quo, and at least someone is still trying to do that. But instead of keeping them earthed, here she keeps letting her feelings for nature drift off into vague spiritual lessons.
This is the book that helped me start my book. Now that those articles Kingsolver wrote in response to September 11 have been republished - together with other essays on family life and wildlife - they can be judged in a more reflective context.
Such is the course of all wisdom: You may need to acknowledge the complexity of the present situation and set out concrete steps for change. Maybe I read about it on a blog or in a review, and whoever turned me onto this book, I owe you a huge debt of gratitude. What I can find is this, and so it has to be: Although she is very much, here, an American speaking to Americans, her arguments travel well.
A writer who reminds her readers, as Kingsolver has done, that "every war is both won and lost" would hardly seem extreme over here, but in the US such talk can receive some pretty nasty responses.
She tells of how she and her husband and daughter were looking at a photograph of thousands of people wearing red, white, or blue, arranged in the shape of the American flag. That the author of The Poisonwood Bible and The Prodigal Summer is something of a pacifist and an environmentalist is hardly a surprise.
Others will see the front and the back, but inside is where we each live, in that home where only one heart will ever beat. No joke, no questions, this book did it. We need to be able to taste grace and know once again that we desire it. This book is one that will sit on my shelf to be caressed and peeked into when I, too, am seeking to conquer by own despair by doing what little I can.
I like knowing where she stands, and knowing why she stands there. Whether or not we think we do, we do.Sometimes grave, occasionally hilarious, and ultimately persuasive, Small Wonder is a hopeful examination of the people we seem to be, and what we might yet make of ourselves.
Letter to My Mother. Imagine you putting on your glasses to read this letter. Oh, Lord, what now? You tilt your head back and hold the page away from you, your left hand flat on your chest, protecting your heart. This book of personal essays, Small Wonder, by Barbara Kingsolver certainly deserves the high rating I gave it-just for that reason alone.
Within, Kingsolver discusses topics such as the aftermath of 9/11, love for the creatures of our planet large and small, her family, and especially muses about the legacy she is leaving for her children.4/5. Small Wonder is a collection of 23 essays on environmentalism and social justice by American novelist and biologist Barbara Kingsolver, published in by Harper Collins.
It reached number 3 in the New York Times non-fiction paperback best seller list in May The cover shows two scarlet macaws, the subject of one of the essays, in flight against a tropical forest.
Barbara Kingsolver's watery rhetoric against US sabre-rattling in Small Wonder leaves Natasha Walter cold Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver But although I was rooting for these essays.
Discussion Questions Small Wonder: Essays. by Barbara Kingsolver. 1. Kingsolver opens her collection with a story out of Iran. A young child wandered away from his home and was found, some distance away, in a cave where he was sleeping safely in the embrace of a female bear.
She uses this remarkable example of maternal nurturing to demonstrate.Download