Autumn Stevens

Queen Curmano
30 November 2014
Freshman English Honors
Poisonwood Bible Books 6&7 Dialogue Journal
Such childhood energy I spent on feeling
betrayed. By the world in general, Leah in
particular. Betrayal bent me in one direction
while guilt bent her the other way. We
constructed our lives around a
misunderstanding, and if ever I tried to pull it
out and fix it now I would fall down flat.
Misunderstanding is my cornerstone. Its
everyones, come to think of it. Illusions
mistaken for truth are the pavement under our
feet. They are what we call civilization (532).

So then what is truth? Does it exist? By fixing

misunderstanding we create understanding.
But do we really want to do the work of
falling down flat for it? Is is that important?

Yes, you are all accomplices to the fall, and

yes, we are gone forever. Gone to a ruin so
strange it must be called by another name.
Call it muntu: all that is here.
Mother, be still, listen. I can see you
leading your children to the water, and you
call it a story of ruin. Here is what I see: First,
the forest. Trees like muscular animals
overgrown beyond all reason. Vines strangling
their kin and the wrestle for sunlight. The
glide of snake belly on branch. A choir of
seedlings arching their necks out of rotted tree
stumps, sucking life out of death. I am the
forests conscience, but remember the forest
eats itself and lives forever (537).

Holy stench. This is DEEP. Theres so much

meaning in this passage, my head is
overwhelmed by trying to connect it all. This
is what I got: Everyone helped every death
that occurred in the Congo. Death is all that
is here. Everyone in the forest grasps onto life
because death is everywhere. Death is the
forests conscience that keeps it alive. Why is
this book so dark and melancholy? The forest
of Africa--and Africa itself-- is full of death,
but am I supposed to think death is a bad thing
grasping for both life and freedom??? Its
almost as if Ruth Mays death has been a little
too dramaticized

Civilization is betrayal. Its what got us here.

Personally, I dont think that the imperialism
in Africa and the diamond trade are acts of
civility. But betrayal to whom?
If mistaken illusions are the pavement, that
means that understood illusions are nothing
but dust beneath the concrete.

The eyes in the trees are watching. The

animals open their mouths and utter joyful,
astonishing words. The enslaved parrot
Methuselah whose flesh has been devoured
now by many generations of predators, is
forcing his declaration of independence
through the mouths of leopards and civet cats
(540).

More obviously, this statement is a metaphor

for Africas independence; enslaved, taken
over (or devoured), and then again rising. But
mostly, I love the feeling this passage
provoked in me; the words forcing his
declaration and devoured make me feel
powerful and resilient. The beauty in
Methuselahs almost subconscious
(metaphoric) determination is something I
was attracted to in this statement.

Kingsolver, Barbara. The Poisonwood Bible: A Novel. New York: HarperPerennial, 1999. Print