Where the Crawdads Sing: A Beautifully Descriptive Novel with a Questionable Ending

Delia Owens’ 2018 debut novel boasted an astounding 110 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller List, topping it for 30 of those weeks (non-consecutively). Comparatively, Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl saw at least 122 weeks on the list while E.L. James’ Fifty Shades of Grey topped at 81 weeks. 

Where the Crawdads Sing runs the gamut of a coming-of-age romance to a captivating murder mystery. The storyline begins in the 1950s and follows a six-year-old Kya Clark into maturity. Kya is a mysterious and totally isolated young girl the locals call the “Marsh Girl,” because she lives alone in a marsh rather than in their small North Carolina town. She has been gradually abandoned by her entire family and is shunned by the town, who misunderstands the marsh almost as much as they misunderstand Kya. When Chase Andrews turns up murdered, the locals suspect Kya, who has to try to clear her name in a town that has never welcomed or trusted her. 

One of the first things I noticed about this novel was the descriptive language. My mother, who read it before me, warned me of its “flowery language,” which usually isn’t her style. She also said she enjoyed the book in spite of it. I tend to dislike flowery language as well, but I found the prose entirely unique and captivating; it was lyrical but not excessive, dreamy but not suffocating. The imagery is unimaginably vivid, and Delia Owens does a great job of showing rather than telling. Some critics complain that Owens provided beautiful descriptions of nature but amateurish character development and dialogue. However, this only emphasizes the main character’s own abilities within the novel: Kya’s area of expertise is the swamp and nature, whereas her social awareness has never been thoroughly refined. The strengths and weaknesses of the narrative perfectly align with Kya’s strengths and weaknesses. If Owens did not intend this effect, let’s just take a note from Bob Ross and call it a “happy accident.”

Whether it’s because of this happy accident or because the story itself is so enthralling, I was drawn into the characters; by the end of the book, I felt like I intimately knew Kya’s personality, thought processes, and how she would react to situations. However, this positive aspect turned negative when the last part of the book totally defied the character we had come to know throughout the novel. The end of the book includes a twist characteristic of a psychological suspense, a genre I love particularly because of the shock factor. However, the twist is only good when it aligns with the rest of the story. My response to the end of the book was, “that would’ve been a great twist if it actually made sense for that character to do that.” 

Although the ending slightly tainted my respect for the novel, Kya’s story is still a valuable one to know and cherish. After all, there is a reason why it has seen an incredible run on the NYT bestsellers list. Not only are historical fiction and mystery popular genres in the current literary market, but the depth of emotion and unique voice Owens gives to this novel makes it hauntingly beautiful and well worth the read.