Flight Behavior

Barbara Kingsolver | 2012

Until now I’ve only included nonfiction books on this list despite being an avid reader of climate fiction. I haven’t written a review for any of them, however, because most fall into a science fiction genre with little relation or practical applications to today’s problems. Sure, reading about a scorching world wherein humans are tiny and vegetation becomes the apex predator is neat, but it’s unlikely to make you think differently about environmental degradation or climate change. In my opinion climate fiction, when written effectively, shares a story seemingly separate from these themes but profoundly affected by them. Earth may still be the stage for the story to unfold, but climatic and environmental changes shape the character’s trajectories; it itself is also a character, a living entity, instead of a backdrop. Flight Behavior is—as of writing—the best use of this narrative structure I’ve come across yet. Barbara Kingsolver’s novel is about Dellarobia, a restless young mother living in Appalachia with her kind yet unfulfilling husband. The book is about her search for something greater, her role in the community and her husband’s family, and an astonishing natural event of biblical proportion that takes place in her backyard. Flight Behavior is very much a book about climate change but told indirectly in a startlingly impactful manner. Kingsolver condenses the larger conversation on climate change into the interactions between a handful of characters: a scientist, a curious child, a business-oriented patriarch, a pastor, a news reporter, and a woman struggling to engage with something much larger than herself. As climate variability intensifies, the environment will increasingly impact human stories, both real and fictional, and this book is a perfect example of how novels will look in the 21st century.

“In the branches over their heads, small bursts of butterflies exploded into the sun like soundless fireworks.”

“She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. ‘What scientists disagree on now, Tina, is how to express our shock. The glaciers that keep Asia’s watersheds in business are going right away. Maybe one of your interns could Google that for you. The Arctic is genuinely collapsing. Scientists used to call these things the canary in the mine. What they say now is, The canary is dead. We are at the top of Niagara Falls, Tina, in a canoe. There is an image for your viewers. We got here by drifting, but we cannot turn around for a lazy paddle back when you finally stop pissing around. We have arrived at the point of an audible roar. Does it strike you as a good time to debate the existence of the falls?’ “