Where the Crawdads Sing – Delia Owens

Rating: 4 stars

This is a book that really begs to me add a lot more nuance to a rating system. It’s a good book. I’d even say quite enjoyable, but it isn’t great, especially if you think about the implications of the story (as I do towards the end of this review). It has prose that really struck me, but for any book to be in that latter category, it has to say something (at least), and that something has to be unique and makes me consider the world and/or change my views on things. This book doesn’t have that, no matter how good anything else may be.

I’ll start with the positives. The first is that the prose is great and describes the environment fantastically (which is a major part of the book). The author has a great way of including some poetry in it, which I feel is fairly unique. It would be a positive just on its own, but it complements the rest of the book, too. The story is interesting, though it has some flaws that I’ll bring up later. Either way, it flowed quickly and kept my interest.

Now, for the negatives. Most of them have to do with the story. The biggest one, as always, is the non-linear chronology. By that I mean that there are two plots. The first is the journey of the protagonist, Kya, from child to adult. This is a really compelling story, seeing how she faces the difficulties of effectively being raised with no parents, how she survives on her own in the Swamp of North Carolina and how she forges relationships. The other is Kya’s murder trial, as in she’s suspected of being the murderer. So, what happens is that the reader gets some of Kya’s story, then jump immediately 15 years in the future while the cops are investigating the murder, and back and forth until Kya’s history catches up, which is around when it becomes a trial and not just an investigation.

It takes away some of the drama of the situation, but that isn’t relevant to the story. As always with time jumping like this, I ask, what’s the point? Does it fundamentally change the message of the book? Does it add to the storytelling? I feel like these are all no. The problem is that I was much more interested in Kya’s story anyway. The murder investigation starts off slow, and it doesn’t really get anywhere interesting until the two stories intersect.

I think I understand some reasons (not good ones though) why the author decided to put it in. For the non-cynical justifications: it’s so you can have a little bit of other character’s perspective about Kya because, though there are a few lines of other characters’ perspective, it is rare and so entire chapters wouldn’t fit. It creates an alternative narrative of Kya’s life that is, by the time the two stories catch up, not true whatsoever. That definitely annoyed me. Going forward, the other reason is that the murder trial would possibly come out of nowhere without it. However, I don’t think so, given how the murdered guy (Chase) plays such a big role in act two of the book that there can easily be some sort of progression. And if so, it wouldn’t be hard to change the book to fit.

Okay, and the cynical reason why they introduce the murder trial so quickly, it’s so the book has a hook because the author/publishing house/agent didn’t think the story itself was compelling enough just going by Kya’s abandonment by her mom then her dad. It was. In fact, this act of interference in the story’s progression was so egregious that it leads to my other problems with the book. This is a matter of personal taste so that’s why it comes later.

Kya is called the Marsh Girl because she’s so distant from regular life. In fact, the murder trial comes about because it’s effectively a trial of civilization versus the weird outcast. At least, that’s how it’s framed in the first few chapters when the sheriff and his deputy are investigating the death of the pinnacle of small town life, the high school quarterback that never left the town, is moderately successful because of his parents and has no real morals or values.

But by the end of the book, once the two stories start intersecting, the reader sees that Kya is super educated. She publishes some academia-quality texts on the birds/sea creatures/etc. living in the swamp and even gets an honorary doctorate despite receiving no formal education whatsoever. My problem with this, if it’s not obvious, is that it’s saying being a weird outcast is inherently a valueless thing, and that, even if civilization judges you harshly, screw it because you’re actually a super PhD. I’d much prefer it if she was just an uneducated, fundamentally good weirdo in terms of the murder trial so that it wasn’t a case of civilization vs. hidden civilization but civilization vs. wilderness. Kya starts as a part of the natural world in which she lives, but by the end, she fundamentally isn’t that anymore but an observer of nature.

The most outrageous part of this is that I feel like writing her to be this way is a natural outgrowth of the story that was adjusted to satisfy, again, the author and/or publishing house and/or agent because there’s no way any of the dozens of people who read this book before it was published didn’t comment on this.

Okay, that is the most grievous problem with the book. A lesser, though annoying problem, is the character’s, specifically Tate (the good, trustworthy love interest) and Chase (the bad, untrustworthy love interest). I feel like most characters are kinda interesting except for those two. Neither of the characters are particularly dynamic or interesting. Tate is good and always does the right thing, except the one time he doesn’t, and then he works on fixing it. Chase, on the other hand, always is manipulative and bent on sex, and there’s absolutely nothing redeeming about him. I guess he plays the harmonica well.

Oh yeah, and the epilogue really made me ask, ‘who thought this was a good idea to add?’ I don’t want to spoil anything, but it adds nothing. And it actually detracts quite a bit from the story, its attempted message and the importance of Kya’s actions.

By writing this review, my opinion of the book actually got much worse than it was at the beginning. I would read the book as long as you keep in mind that you shouldn’t think too deeply about it. Enjoy the, admittedly, fantastic prose and the poetry, but don’t think about how the book undermines its own message.