A review by wellworn_soles
Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver

4.0

It's no secret that Kingsolver's [b:The Poisonwood Bible|7244|The Poisonwood Bible|Barbara Kingsolver|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1412242487l/7244._SY75_.jpg|810663] remains one of my favorite pieces of contemporary fiction. So it was a bit of a bummer when I came away from reading her novel [b:Unsheltered|37959904|Unsheltered|Barbara Kingsolver|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1539624556l/37959904._SX50_.jpg|59686314] feeling a little let down. Was this a one-hit wonder situation?

Finishing Flight Behavior, I can happily say this is not the case. In many ways, this book is the assurance that Unsheltered wasn't. The latter felt unfinished, the author's intent like a thick glaze on top of the words. Even if you agree with someone's political stance, there is such a thing as lathering it on too thick. There, it suffocated her story; here, something is slipped into place.

Maybe knowing a thing really makes it feel real. Kingsolver herself was raised in rural Kentucky, where this story takes place; she also has a background as a biologist. These two experiential touchstones likely serve as the backbone for this story: Dellarobia, an antsy, stifled woman, is just about going crazy searching for meaning in her rural Appalachian town. That's when she is knocked down by and otherworldly spectacle: millions of monarchs roosting, transforming the woods on their country mountains to a swirling lake of fire. Kingsolver does a much better job here threading together the themes of climate change and climate denial, religion and science, and expertly tackles the question at the root of so many of these themes: why can't we seem to work together?

In one of my favorite scenes, Dellarobia asks Mr. Akins to read off his Green Manifesto. Akins, an enthusiastic environmentalist, has come to town in his low emissions vehicle to save the butterflies his own way: by handing out this list of actions people can take to reduce their carbon footprint. What becomes apparent very quickly is how unmatched they are: Bring tupperware to resturauts he says. She says they haven't been able to afford eating out in years. Switch some stocks and bonds to socially responsible investments. Upgrade your appliances. Use public transportation. Fly less. None of these apply to Dellarobia’s impoverished life on a rural sheep farm. Righteous as Akins may be, his call to action is not embedded in the local existence; as an outsider, on the other side of the divide, he hasn't seen how his words create distance instead of forging community.

Yet the beauty of that scene is the quality of kindness the characters display to one another. No one gets ticked off. One person doesn’t get all huffy and feel superior to the other. These two characters accept each other as they are. And they listen in order to make sense of each other’s perspective. We find throughout the novel that the "two camps" aren't impenetrable. Dellarobia may feel like she's fighting uphill, but she is slowly pulling herself to stand astride the divide - to see the gifts of one, the truths of the other. The pieces both hold. As the novel ends, the future remains uncertain for our characters, and their world. Here in our world, climate-driven disasters continue to fall upon us in a cascade. Kentucky just suffered some of the worst tornadoes in its history; hundreds are dead. There is no turning back the clock. There is only stepping out, striding across, holding worlds together as we fight to create a better one. 4 stars.