Book Review: Kindred by Octavia E. Butler

I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

A powerful story, that even nearly 40 years after it was first published is still incredibly hard hitting and relevant today. Dana, an African-American writer, can travel through time. Intrinsically linked to a boy called Rufus, who lives in the pre Civil war Maryland, she appears to him whenever he appears to be in danger. Connected through time, Dana becomes embroiled in plantation life, and makes the often difficult decisions needed to survive and return to her own time.

I was surprised how deeply involved I became in the storyline. There’s no shying away from the brutality of life for slaves in the ante bellum South here. Everything is told vividly and convincingly. It’s violent, cruel, raw and very real. The characters are full of life and complexity too. Not least Rufus, who we follow through Dana’s eyes from child to man as the son of a plantation owner. At first, we feel something similar to pity for him. His father ignores him, his mother mollycoddles him, and he’s friendly with his slaves children. Brought up to abuse them without really understanding that he’s doing so, his rude introduction to Dana catches him by surprise, and we hope, maybe change him into a better man than his father.

There’s a scene we see between some slave children, where they play act a slave auction as if it’s normal and unordinary. Dana and her husband Kevin are appalled by this, and it reminds them that no matter what they may feel about integrating into this lifestyle, they’re not of this time. Their attitude is grossly different to the contemporaries they’re surrounded by, and this is mirrored in Rufus as he grows up to be a person Dana comes to despise, down in part because of his upbringing and environment. It’s a deeply complicated codependent relationship, as Dana tries to shape him into a ‘better man’, but being pulled up short by the times and expectations. For example, Rufus sees no harm in repeatedly humiliating and beating Dana to remind her of her place, just as his father does, yet feels some level of shame in doing so and feels a ‘need’ for her never to leave him. It’s a kind of love that’s toxic, but one Rufus believes is acceptable between a plantation owner and people he believes he owns.

There’s a certain level of complicity that runs throughout the novel, as Dana seems to readily slip into this role of slave and accept that she may never return to her present time. She accepts Rufus’ often brutish treatment of her, along with the other white men she comes across, without any consideration as if it’s her birth right as a black woman during this period of time. Perhaps this is because of the deep level of fear that seems to permeate the novel between all of the slaves. It’s as if at any moment, any of them could be sold or beaten to death (or worse). They’re so downtrodden, it’s hard to imagine how anyone could rise above this to lead any kind of revolt or rebellion and it amazes me that anyone of this time did. These are the people history tend to overlook, when they faced such abject adversity to make them truly heroic . 

I would liked to have seen more of Dana and Kevin in their time together ‘after’ and how deeply the emotional scars ran into the future, and how they’re altered by their time spent in the past. However, this was a wonderful read.

 - 4 stars