Men Without Women by Delia Owens
Rating: ★★★★★★★★★★ 10/10
Being in quarantine means I have a lot more time to read. I ordered Where the Crawdads Sing on Amazon not because I specifically sought out the book, but because I needed another purchase to make shipping free (I was ordering a tripod, and I don’t have Prime), and this was the first suggested book. I now understand why: it’s a beautiful story about resilience, family, and love, complete with a backdrop of ever-relevant themes of racism and prejudice.
Reading this book, I was reminded of the #MeToo movement. Harvey Weinstein was recently convicted of sex crimes, and I knew that that was a big deal. It was not just a win for the girls he had abused, but a win for those who were afraid to speak out, who waited with bated breath to see whose side society would put its weight behind. Seeing Kya’s relationship with Chase sour into hatred and fear reminded me how real abuse is. How perniciously relationships can inch towards something else, and you never see it crossing the line until it’s too late. It’s also something, as a guy, I will never truly understand — I’ve had discussions with my friends about how I’ve never felt scared to walk home late at night, or how I’ve never had to carry my car keys Wolverine style just in case something happens. But to be absolutely candid, I don’t think I’ve ever had a clear picture of how sexual abuse happens until I read Where the Crawdads Sing.
Another major theme was love. To most people, discovering love feels like discovering something the entire world has never seen before. For Kya, this feeling was amplified; her mom left her as a child, her siblings soon after, and her dad a couple years after that. She savored the few glimmers of love she experienced, her time with her siblings, Easter with the family, her dad taking her boating, but these memories were always tinged with trauma. After Tate, her first love, leaves without saying goodbye, Kya isn’t sure what love is, or how to interpret her feelings, which leads to the entire situation with Chase. I especially loved Owens’ use of symbolism: the only constant throughout Kya’s entire life has been the marsh. Tate and Kya exchange feathers as they begin to fall in love: their relationship is two-sided, and both Tate and Kya give up a part of themselves to the other. Kya’s relationship with Chase, however, is different: Kya gives him a shell necklace, which represents a part of her soul, and he wears it around like a trophy. At the end, the shell is eventually returned to the ocean, where Kya is “whole” again
The last thing I’ll talk the savior trope which really made me think about my relationship with other people. A lot of books/movies have this trope: the struggling main character (usually non-white), a good soul (usually white) who comes to them, helps them, asks for nothing in return, and helps them become the graceful, free person they are at the end. In Kya’s case, it was Tate (and Jumpin’ and Mabel). Tate literally teaches Kya how to read, write, and count, and pushes her to become the published author she ends up being. We often read these stories and relate ourselves to the main character, the one receiving this help, an angel that pushes us to be better. But I think it’s also important to relate to the people who help; to see yourself as not the main character but someone in a position to help another in need.
I don’t often give books 10 stars (the last couple were Song of Achilles, Circe, and A Thousand Splendid Suns), but whenever I do, I ultimately end up trying to compare all of my 10/10 books with each other. And I never can. Yes, some I enjoyed more than others, but I can’t possibly give any of them fewer than 10 stars — they each resonate very strongly with me, just at a different frequency.
Anyway, here are some of my favorite quotes:
They sipped until the sun, as golden and syrupy as the bourbon, slipped into the sea.
pg 60
She sensed that the words clinched a powerful meaning, but she couldn’t shake it free. If she ever became a poet, she’d make the message clear.
pg 116
But just as her collection grew, so did her loneliness. A pain as large as her heart lived in her chest. Nothing eased it. Not the gulls, not a splendid sunset, not the rarest of shells.
pg 146
Yet she had fallen for the same ruse as Ma: leapfrogging sneaky fuckers.
pg 212
A lone tear trailed down Mrs. Culpepper’s cheek, and then a shadow smile for the little swamp truant escaping again.
pg 347
Tate remembered his dad’s definition of a man: one who can cry freely, feel poetry and opera in his heart, and do whatever it takes to defend a woman.
pg 356
Peter's Life 