Where the Crawdads Sing

Der Gesang der Flusskrebse ♦ Delia Owens | Rezension

Mit [b:Der Gesang der Flusskrebse|49864151|Der Gesang der Flusskrebse|Delia Owens|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1563702654l/49864151._SX50_SY75_.jpg|58589364] hat [a:Delia Owens|7043934|Delia Owens|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1524665831p2/7043934.jpg] mit einer zwar anspruchsvollen, aber sehr einfühlsamen Sanftheit des Schreibstils ein Meisterwerk an idyllischen Emotionen geschaffen, wie ich es bisher noch nie gelesen und dabei gefühlt habe.



Meinung

Schreibstil und Charaktere

Owens‘ Protagonisten haben allesamt Hand und Fuss. Sie sind bis ins kleinste Detail durchdacht. Sie wirken so real, dass ich teils das Gefühl hatte einen show more Erfahrungsbericht, statt eines fiktionalen Romans zu lesen. Jede Beschreibung von Kya und Tate, Jumpin‘ und Mabel, Chase und allen anderen sind sehr präzise ausgearbeitet. Ich fühlte deren Emotionen, ich hörte deren Gedanken in meinem Kopf. Ich wurde zu einem Teil dieses Buches.

Handlung

Der Gesang der Flusskrebse wird in zwei Handlungssträngen erzählt. Der größte und auch wichtigste Strang beschäftigt sich mit Kya und ihrem Leben in den 50er Jahren. Kya ist ein 6-jähriges Mädchen, welches zusammen mit ihren Eltern und Geschwistern in der Marsch in North Carolina lebt. Angefangen bei ihrer Mutter, verlassen nach und nach auch ihre Geschwister die Hütte in der Marsch. Kya wird sprichwörtlich von allen zurückgelassen, um dem gewalttätigen Vater zu entkommen. Doch nicht einer schaut zurück. Ich war fassungslos, dass wirklich jeder sie allein zurückgelassen hat. Über die Jahre hinweg entwickelt Kya eine harmonische Einheit mit der Marsch, der dazugehörigen Flora und Fauna. Das Marschland wird Mutter und Freund zu gleichen Teilen für sie.

Der zweite Strang handelt vom möglichen Mord an Chase Andrews, dem legendären Quarterback des Städtchen Barkley Cove. Chase wird eines Tages tot am Feuerwachturm von zwei Jungen aufgefunden. Von da an beginnt der Sheriff mit den Ermittlungen. Da sich dieser Handlungsstrang eher wenig in der Vordergrund schiebt, wird anfangs nicht ganz klar, was Chase und Kya verbindet. Doch es lässt sich schnell erahnen, dass man dem Marschmädchen, so wird Kya von den Einwohnern von Barkley Cove bezeichnet, verdächtigt. Am Ende des Buches laufen die beiden Stränge ineinander, als die schüchterne Kya wegen Mordes vor Gericht steht. Ich war wie erstarrt, konnte kaum atmen, dass man sie wirklich des Mordes bezichtigte.

‚Manche Menschen können ohne wilde Dinge leben, und manche können das nicht.'

Seite 133 (Kapitel 16), Der Gesang der Flusskrebse
Der Gesang der Flusskrebse hat mich nicht nur im Herzen berührt, sondern auch meine Sicht auf viele Dinge erweitert. Delia Owens ist es gelungen, ein Buch zu schreiben, das unaufdringlich verurteilt, wenn man einen einzigen Menschen wegen seines Andersseins ausgrenzt. Dies bleibt dem Leser aber sehr eindringlich im Gedächtnis. Das Buch bewegt in seiner Gänze tief. Es ist gefüllt mit Hoffnung, Schmerz, Einsamkeit und Liebe, und es war eins meiner Lese-Highlights 2019 werden.

Durch dieses Buch wurde ich eins mit der Marsch, denn Owens‘ klare und sehr bildliche Beschreibung ließ mich einziehen, in die kleine Hütte an der Lagune. Ich tanzte mit den Möwen und hörte die Flusskrebse singen. Nahm Kya in meine Arme, litt mit ihr, fühlte ihre Einsamkeit tief in meinem Herzen und lachte bittersüße Freudentränen mit ihr. Ich wurde Teil dieses Buches. Ich wurde zu Kya.

Fazit

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Dieses Buch hat alles, was ein gutes Buch ausmacht. Der Gesang der Flusskrebse ist berührend und unvergesslich. Eine emotionale Meisterleistung.


This review was first published at The Art of Reading. show less

Oof, friends. I did not enjoy this, I think for a couple of reasons, many of which are spoilers so I will tag appropriately.

I was less than one hundred pages into the book and I went "this feels like a book with a sexual assault." I am not in the mood, in the present moment, to read books about sexual assault, to say nothing of a book where I can tell there will be a sexual assault. Then at about page 140, I figured out the mystery and was cranky about it because I'm not in the mood for that kind of narrative generally right now.

But I think what irritated me most of all maybe came in the form of how centered this book was around men? The book repeatedly had Kya's mother figures (and let's not talk about the Black characters in this show more book, it's rough to have to see them support a white woman in the way this book did, yikes,) talk about the need for a woman to have other women, which I uh do believe is true honestly, and then it was all about her relationship to men and I wanted to fall asleep. Also I know that it's VERY clear she's deeply traumatized but the whole "analyzing human behavior as if it was part of the natural world" made me uncomfortable because it was like never challenged narratively? But really I guess by the end I was just so cranky about it all that I got nit-picky which isn't very fair.

There was also something about tone, where this book like clearly wanted to be an Important Book that said some things about like trauma and trust and nature, but it came off as way less nuanced than what I think is necessary to tackle those things well, and ended up coming off as this very light read that I did not care for. I guess the best thing I can say for this book is it moved pretty fast, so I did read it very quickly--it's deeply consumable in that way that people might be looking for, so if that's what you need definitely check it out! show less

“What d’ya mean, where the crawdads sing? Ma used to say that”, [said Kya]… Tate said, “Just means far in the bush where critters are wild, still behaving like critters.

Behold a story set along North Carolina’s marshy coastline in the 1950s and 1960s that will hold you captive to the very end. Listen closely to human silence and hear the sounds of the crawdads singing as waves lap against the skiff. Smell the living marsh or feel repelled by the recycling odors of the swamp; a place void of gas fumes, fried foods and the detritus of sanctimonious humans void of compassion and racial superiority. Become one with the lonesomeness and isolation of an abandoned child striving to be alive in all its manifestations – body, mind, show more and soul.

Kya was six years-old when Ma, wearing her favorite fake alligator skin shoes, left the marsh displaying the fresh bruises Pa had pounded into her. Pa shifted focus and foisted his anger and violence down the food chain onto his five children. One by one Kya watched her much older siblings take Ma’s freedom walk. When she was ten years-old, Pa,too, and never returned.

Being alone in the Marsh didn’t frighten Kya. She had grown used to escaping for long periods into the wilds when Pa would be on a rampage. What did bother her was why none of her siblings or Ma took her with them when they made their escape. Was she disposable? Worthless? Invisible?

Kya, crudely referred to as “The Marsh Girl” by the residents of Barkley Cove, repelled by her own kind, turned to the natural world of the wetlands for emotional and physical survival. The wildlife and waterways raised her. She learned about group dynamics, gender roles, survival techniques, marshland justice, and the natural order of life up and down the food chain. Her best friends are seagulls. Her source of meager income for town dependent supplies – selling mussels to a warm-hearted old African American man, himself stifled by the stench of racism.

The sun, warm as a blanket,
wrapped Kya’s shoulders… whenever she stumbled,
it was the land that caught her…
Kya laid her hand upon the breathing, wet earth,
and the marsh became her mother.

One day, a few years after she was abandoned, she unexpectedly finds a boy fishing in her marsh. Although he seems to not see her, she finds gifts of rare feathers appearing in a stump near her house. The careful contact between them leads to a comfortable friendship. The kind-hearted Tate recognizes Kya as smart and intellectually curious and teaches her to read. When Tate graduates high school he breaks Kya’s heart as he leaves for college and a life away from the coast. He vows to return but becomes ensnared in the outside world and reneges on his promise. And the lonely years begin again for Kya.

Occasionally she spots people on her beach, usually a cluster of entitled teenagers she has seen in town. A quickly maturing Kya feeling the need for human contact, spots the teens and watches from a stealth position. She yearns to belong, to share in their enjoyment of each other. The alpha male, Chase Andrews, spots the beautiful and mysterious Marsh girl observing the group. Intrigued, he begins to court her and she falls in love. On his first visit to her house, he had assumed she was an uneducated wild creature and was surprised to find her intelligent, self-educated, and self-sufficient. Over time he promises to bring her to the town, introduce her to his parents with the goal of marrying her. She begins to lower her guard and allows herself to believe she will finally be recognized and accepted.

The world turns upside down when Chase’s body is found near an abandoned fire tower in the marsh. Who killed him? Why? Instinctively, without cause, the town blames the mysterious Marsh Girl leading to an excruciating trial for Kya. Will she find herself imprisoned, alienated from both town and her marsh? A trapped animal?

No more clues. Just remember that Kya is sensitive, extraordinary, curious, intelligent and adaptive. There is a lot more to see here. The final chapters are heartwarming as she finally finds peace and love. The ending will blow your mind. show less

First 10 chapters were a four star. Or at least had that potential. I was captivated by little Kya living out on her own, figuring out how to survive, keeping up the belief her Ma would return, and growing a mature love for the marsh. I wanted all of the book to have that lyrical magic, that slow insight. I confess it crossed my mind she was an unbelievably capable six year old. But, hey, it was way back in the 60s when we kids were given pocket knives as birthday presents around that age, so okay, I'll go with that.

Then too quickly it started drifting away from its charm, page by page. The writing got more ordinary, without insight, and with that empty, repetitive verbosity I heartily dislike. Author, respect my intelligence to read a show more little between the lines, please. And then when the story interjected a series of eye-roll plot devices and silly romances of sighing and heaving, I began to think I'd been switched to reading Young Adult. Oh well, I changed my expectation to "summer read" (I don't even know what that means really-- pool-side, groggy and sunburned with a wet book maybe) and read on.

I do object to something serious in this book: the mar of the dialogue of Jumpin' being written in dialect because he's black! What the heck? Many North Carolinians, even suburbanites working in Accounting, talk with a deep drawl to this day. But here only Jumpin' is depicted "tawkin' thad way?" I don't buy that. So why? Hm?

Anyway, I can be sincerely glad to see a writer of some age make good with a first novel in a very big way, especially a woman that has apparently done some truly good things in her life in Africa. Best sellers don't usually match my taste (couldn't force myself through the first Harry Potter no matter how many billions had read it) but in this case since I read it with family I see the positive draw of tackling a helluva Best Seller: it brought everyone together for a story.

And it was a story. Two and half stars, rounded up.

I'm not alone.
http://www.literatureandleisure.com/2019/06/review-of-where-the-crawdads-sing/ show less

Where the Crawdads Sing requires suspension of disbelief, but it rewards that suspension with a good yarn. This book merges nature writing about a North Carolina tidewater marsh, a murder mystery and small-town courtroom drama, a 1960s coming-of-age, and a psychological study. It does a solid job at all of them individually, and I'm willing to guess that there are very few books in this niche. That leaves this book in a league of its own, and readers' reactions based on their expectations and their happiness reading outside their usual genres.

Personally, I could probably have done without the post-1969 portion altogether -- though I don't know how else Kya's story might have concluded. Also, in real life the author's stepson and husband show more are wanted for questioning in Zambia for murdering a poacher and covering up the crime?!? (that casts this book in rather a different light). This book was entertaining, but not as powerful as I was hoping; perhaps my expectations were too high. show less

I'm not going to write a review of this book. You've read those. What I want to say is, that if you've avoided this just for spite, as I did, reconsider.

It's a beautifully written love poem about nature, an intriguing mystery, and a scathing indictment of how people treat outsiders. Reading Where the Crawdads Song is an experience in glad I didn't miss out on.

This one just held on to my heart from the beginning, squeezed it tight, broke it, put it back together and then just filled it with pride! Phew! What a rollercoaster ride it was... One of the strongest female characters I have read in a long time who turned her weakness into her biggest strength. It also has one of the strangest murder mysteries holding the narrative together but, having said that, it is Kya's story through and through... with beautiful descriptions of the flora and fauna, which help you to visualize the swamp and Kya's loneliness.