Kingsolver’s Demon Copperhead was a wild ride. It follows a young boy as he becomes a man in the American foster care system and heart of the opioid crisis. Needless to say, this book covers a lot of heavy topics. I highly recommend looking up content warnings before you decide to read.

Demon Copperhead is inspired by David Copperfield, but you don’t need to be a Dickensian scholar to enjoy this book. If you are familiar with the work of Dickens, you’ll notice a lot of similar talking points in Kingsolver’s work– institutional poverty, the haves and the have-nots, and the victims of societal neglect. Like Dickens, Kingsolver explores the complexities of a population that is often ignored.

The book takes place in Appalachia, a place that has been the butt of the American joke for a long time. As someone from the South, the way Kingsolver described this issue really resonated with me. Especially in today’s political climate, Southerners are lumped into one group of uneducated, intolerant hicks, but the South is a beautifully diverse place with a whole lot of heart. The novel’s main character, Demon/Damon, is the perfect example of this complexity– both the product of and exception to his upbringing. 

Another topic that Kingsolver covers with a touching level of nuance is addiction. A lot of this was hard to read. But what I appreciated most was Kingsolver’s ability to share the ugliest parts of addiction without shaming those experiencing it. There was no holding back when it came to who’s really to blame for the opioid crisis, and Kingsolver’s ability to combine her character’s voice with her own scathing social commentary was truly powerful. 

At over 500 pages, this was definitely a long read, and I felt that some portions were too long and others not long enough. Even so, Kingsolver made me care so deeply for her protagonist’s story that I didn’t want the book to end. 

The level of empathy that Kingsolver showed for her characters, the region they live, and their experiences was deeply moving. Demon Copperhead was a beautiful love letter to a people that have been historically and systemically ignored. It was gritty, soulful, and empowering. It’s not an easy read, but it’s an important one.