I was there beside him on the slippery, rocky cliff above Devil’s Bathtub in a torrential downpour. I walked with him from his birth through foster homes, and onto a football field into addiction, his people-wisdom and caring far outpacing his academics. I could hear him talking directly to me in each sentence. Demon’s writing style- for by the end I truly felt that Demon was writing this novel, rather than Kingsolver- got into my head. As I closed the book, I was so glad I had kept reading- Wow!ĭespite the horror and sadness of watching a train wreck that you can’t turn away from, I loved the second half of the book. I almost gave up on it, and didn’t because I so enjoyed Kingsolver’s previous books. I read half the book and wasn’t connecting. Oddly I had a hard time warming up to this novel. Barbara Kingsolver doesn’t tell a story in Demon Copperhead, she allows the reader to walk with Demon through his own story.
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