06 February 2012

An Activist Agenda in The Poisonwood Bible

Barbara Kingsolver wasted no words, symbols, or parallels in her engaging and disturbing novel about the Prices, a missionary family in the African Congo of the mid-1900s. While various themes can be raised, each points back to her central, hovering message that the Western world had imposed itself on a vulnerable and defenseless people, destroying their pure culture and replacing it with an imported ideology that can supposedly never take root in that foreign soil.

Nathan Price is the main personification of America's forceful and damaging presence. Unfortunately, he simultaneously represents a Baptist missionary, which incorrectly stains Christianity as lacking compassion. Still, the parallel of America's unswerving political views and the one-way-only doctrine of the Bible is a fair parallel. It then falters as Nathan imposes his culture on the Congolese people rather than presenting the gospel alone. 

Two vivid pictures of the novel's overall message are seen in Methuselah and Adah. The pet bird is set free only to realize his own incapability in the wild and ends up being murdered by a cat. Likewise, Kingsolver argues that the Congo was freed from Belgium only to be left susceptible to capture and rule by other superpowers. The second picture of Adah involves her healing after leaving the Congo. While many would expect her to rejoice in losing her slant and appearing normal, she says she would rather have remained Ada who could see more acutely and was completely comfortable with her crooked self. In the same way, the novel points out that the Congo did not request nor prefer democracy or capitalism and would rather have been left to its own choices, its own ways of government and economics--even if they appeared "crooked" to the rest of the world.

Sadly, the answer presented to all this corruption appears to be pantheism. Brother Fowles, the celebrated and 'successful' missionary, left the absolutes of the faith and began to worship nature as well. Orleanna dug her hands into the earth as a way of coping with the losses she endured in Africa. Adah called herself a "witch doctor," and Leah cries out to "some God" who resembles the one of Brother Fowles. This open-ended and all-encompassing religion parallels the type of tolerance Kingsolver advocates for other countries, especially those seeming to be savage and unruly. "What's right for me may not be what's right for them." However, it's when this philosophy bleeds over into morality and spirituality that all our (Christian) nerves start to fire warning shots. 

Understandably, not all of America's ways of running a country will work in an African culture; yet, does that mean they do not try to intervene at all? Where is the line between influence and imposition? The Poisonwood Bible screams that the West should keep their hands off completely, but how does that fit in with a believer's theology? 

These heavy topics are just some of what we discussed at our book club meeting on February 4. Because of her excellent narration and various perspectives, Kingsolver has written a bestseller, which definitely invokes deep thinking. While she intended it to be a political weapon, I also found it to be spiritually challenging. What a sharp stab to hear what nonbelievers will define as 'Christian.' Furthermore, her jabs at racial and cultural supremacy reminds me to remain sensitive and adaptive while living in this host country of Korea.