Review: Where the Crawdads Sing
Gaby Meares
“What d’ya mean, where the crawdads sing?” “Just means far in the bush where critters are wild, still behaving like critters.”
It’s hard not to wax lyrical about Where the Crawdads Sing. It’s also extremely hard to classify this novel; is it a book about nature and the preservation of wild places, or is it a murder-mystery-courtroom-drama? Or rather a coming of age story? It’s all of the above, and more. This is Delia Owens’ first novel, having written several non-fiction books about her life as a wildlife scientist in Africa. She wears her love of the natural world on her sleeve, and it sets the tone of this novel. Her descriptions of the landscape and its inhabitants are the highlights of the book. The opening paragraph beautifully sets the scene:
‘Marsh is not swamp. Marsh is a space of light, where grass grows in water, and water flows into the sky. Slow-moving creeks wander, carrying the orb of the sun with them to the sea, and long-legged birds lift with unexpected grace - as though not built to fly - against the roar of a thousand snow geese.’
Kya has lived in the marshes near Barkley Cove, North Carolina all her life. Here is how Owens vividly describes Barkley Cove:
‘For more than two hundred years, sharp salty winds had weathered the cedar-shingled buildings to the colour of rust and the window frames, most painted white or blue, had flaked and cracked. Mostly, the village seemed tired of arguing with the elements and simply sagged.’
The locals refer to Kya as the ‘Marsh Girl’. She once had a family, but they have all disappeared, running away from her brutal father, until it’s only her and him left. One day, he doesn’t return to their shack, and she’s left to fend for herself. She learns to survive, with little contact with those in town, apart from the wonderful Jumpin’ and Mabel who run the Bait and Gas store. It’s extraordinary that a child would be abandoned in this way by everyone: social services, schools, church groups, other families living in the swamp - but then again, we read of this sort of neglect all the time, don’t we?
The story begins in 1969, when one of the town’s favoured young men, Chase Andrews, is found dead at the base of the town’s abandoned fire tower. At first it appears to have been an accident, but the sheriff is quick to cry foul play when there are no footprints or fingerprints at the scene. The town locals immediately suspect Kya, because that’s what small towns do: blame the outsider! Kya’s story is told in flashback, starting in 1952. Months after her Ma has walked away, ‘Kya laid her hand upon the breathing, wet earth, and the marsh became her mother.’
The first half of the novel is lyrical, peppered with rich descriptions of the land and the creatures who live in it. However, the pace dramatically changes when Kya is charged with Chase’s murder and the trial commences. I could barely breathe as I tore through these chapters, enraged at the injustice of her arrest and trial. I cannot say any more without spoiling the book.
The reader watches Kya grow into a young woman who yearns to be loved, but has not had the necessary guidance to help her choose wisely. I found myself loving her independence and symbiotic relationship with the marshland. It broke my heart when she tried to fit in with Chase, just so that she could feel loved: ‘She laughed for his sake, something she’d never done. Giving away another piece of herself just to have someone else.’ Heartbreaking.