What readers think of Demon Copperhead, plus links to write your own review.

Demon Copperhead is the ninth novel by award-winning best-selling American author, Barbara Kingsolver. It’s in August of his eleventh year that life falls apart for Damon Fields. Despite his inauspicious beginning and life in a double-wide trailer with his single mother, his first ten years are happy ones.

With strong Melungeon features, flame red hair, green eyes and darker skin, inherited from a father who died before he was born, Damon soon acquires the name Copperhead, Demon being the natural warp of his given name. A good student with a talent for drawing, he excels at school and enjoys spending his free time with his best friend, Maggot, grandson of his mother’s landlady, Nance Peggot.

The catalyst for change seems to be the arrival into their lives of Murrell Stone, known as Stoner, whom Damon quickly assesses as bad news. That he is a bully, expert in gaslighting, is soon obvious: “Mom took up with a guy that believed in educating with his fists, that bullied and brainwashed her till the day she died.”

By the time he arrives in his father’s hometown in Tennessee, the now-eleven-year-old has suffered the physical and psychological abuse of his new step-father, lost his pregnant mother, been fostered out into two differently neglectful homes, done hard physical labour, worked an illegal job, missed school to harvest tobacco, been half-starved, and robbed.

From there, the story follows Demon’s rollercoaster fortunes in life: patronage from his paternal grandmother, a football coach and an art teacher; recognition of his talents and abilities; injury and drug addiction; the deterioration and loss of people close to him. He proves to be resilient, and eventually learns that not all the people he chooses end up being true friends.

With her reinvented David Copperfield set in modern-day Appalachia, Kingsolver illustrates the potent impact on young lives of the poor choices that people themselves make, or are made by those charged with their care, often when there is, realistically, no choice at all.

When those people in his life who have good intentions but no means are unable to step up, her protagonist ends up at the mercy of people rorting the welfare system for their own gain or merely their survival, under the supposed care of poorly-paid and under-resourced people stuck in a poorly funded and disorganised system. All of this will feel wholly realistic to those with experience of said system.

Shown, too, is the Appalachian(?) mindset perpetuated by some teachers at less well-off schools that their students lack the intelligence to compete academically with richer schools. This can result is students believing, often to their detriment, injury-wise, that sport or unskilled labour is their only option. Credibly presented is the casually indiscriminate use of prescribed narcotics in teens with its ensuing downward spiral into addiction, and also the power of the intelligent cartoon.

Damon’s feels like an authentic voice which gives the story added credibility. Kingsolver gives her young protagonist insight: “A mean side to people comes out at such times, where their only concern is what did the misfortunate person do to put themselves in their sorry fix. They’re building a wall to keep out the bad luck.”

And makes him perceptive: “A dead parent is a tricky kind of ghost. If you can make it into more like a doll, putting it in the real house and clothes and such that they had, it helps you to picture them as a person instead of just a person-shaped hole in the air. Which helps you feel less like a person-shaped invisible kid.”

And, of course, the reader can rely on Kingsolver for gorgeous descriptive prose: “I found a good rock and watched the sun melt into the Cumberlands. Layers of orange like a buttermilk pie cooling on the horizon. Clouds scooting past, throwing spots of light and dark over the mountainheads. The light looked drinkable. It poured on a mountain so I saw the curve of every treetop edged in gold, like the scales of a fish. Then poured off, easing them back into shadow.”

Many of Dickens’ characters are easily identifiable by their slightly altered names and roles; several are sterling characters, although the one with that name is the polar opposite. Those familiar with it will find elements of the story somewhat reminiscent of AB Facey’s memoir A Fortunate Life. Included is a bonus essay revealing Kingsolver’s inspiration for this tale. Moving and thought-provoking: a wonderful read.
This unbiased review is from an uncorrected proof copy provided by NetGalley and Faber & Faber.

I love Barbara Kingsolver and have read many of her books. However, I did not like Demon Copperhead. I stuck with it until the end, but it was a chore. The characters were not believable, especially the voice of Demon. I was SO disappointed in this entire book.

I agree with those who've panned the book. I absolutely loved "Poisonwood Bible"; it's perhaps one of my all time favorite novels, so I had high hopes for this one. But from the beginning, I simply didn't find Demon's voice believable. It was far too clever for a child, and didn't change as Demon grew older. I also found it annoying that he needed to tell us everything rather than have any other voices involved. I understand that Kingsolver was attempting to emulate Dickens, but the cleverness of Demon's explanations and descriptions very often were not humorous or insightful, but instead not believable and often off putting.

The other thing that really bothered me was that, while Kingsolver "says" (through Demon, of course) that she wants to show the people of Appalachia in a positive light, I actually found her depictions, for the most part (barring a few one-dimensional heroes), quite negative and stereotypical, from the druggie mom to the abusive stepdad, from the flawed but ultimately good-guy coach to the evil and conniving "U-Haul," from the good nurse to the drug addled girlfriend. Rather than writing a book where people are "seen," she seems to have written a book where people are on display, where we can wring our hands and feel that we are on the right side of justice, even as we'd never move to "those" parts and certainly wouldn't want "those" people moving into our neighborhoods. Ultimately, reading this book felt like being scolded by someone who was upholding the very same stereotypes she was attempting to subvert.

voyeuristic storytelling of the opioid destruction in Appalachia—perhaps better to send $$ spent on this book to a resource devoted to helping this population. If you really need to understand this, go volunteer at a homeless shelter or food kitchen

Feeling a bit crazy as an avid reader of quality books, children’s YA books, history, science, novels—- I love good lit, for all ages. Writing that makes your spirit soar, heart break, your mind blown, magic happen, forgiveness melt you, indignation rise, horror and man’s inhumanity to man result in making me a more compassionate person and hope take flight out of darkness.

This book was taking advantage of a horrible injustice by using a flat, one voice of a child with adult perspective that didn’t work. Taking advantage of a Dickens classic to give it heft that it simply didn’t carry.

Crazy-making trying to find one review that remotely even, didn’t give it 5 stars.
All the light we cannot see, The Nickel Boys (Pulitzer Prize Winners) are just two in which the prose is breathtaking.
Good books have stories that may be heartbreaking, with multi-voices making a rich, multi-textured tapestry that enriches the reader.

What in the world am I missing about this flat single-voiced teenaged-wet-dream (tossed in to titillate?) with the manipulated takeoff of the vicious oxycodone epidemic ?

I simply don’t get the adoration of this book. But realize I’m alone!