Demon Copperhead is set in the mountains of southern Appalachia, unraveling the life of a boy born to a teenage single mother in a single-wide trailer. He possesses no material wealth, save for his dead father's good looks, copper-colored hair, a sharp wit, and an innate ability to survive. Told through his candid perspective, Demon navigates the treacherous landscape of foster care, child labor, failing schools, athletic achievement, addiction, disastrous romances, and profound losses.
As he confronts the harsh reality of his own invisibility within a society that has relegated rural people to the shadows, even in popular culture where superheroes favor cities over the countryside, Demon's journey is a testament to resilience.
Inspired by Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, which itself was a product of Dickens' experiences with institutional poverty and its detrimental effects on children, Demon Copperhead carries forward Dickens' legacy of indignation and empathy. Barbara Kingsolver employs these sentiments to weave a narrative that is both a nod to a classic and a voice for the modern generation of 'lost boys' and all those rooted to places of cursed beauty they cannot fathom leaving.
From the New York Times bestselling author of Exit West, comes a story of love, loss, and rediscovery in a time of unsettling change.
One morning, a man wakes up to find himself transformed. Overnight, Anders’s skin has turned dark, and the reflection in the mirror seems a stranger to him. At first, he shares his secret only with Oona, an old friend turned new lover. Soon, reports of similar events begin to surface. Across the land, people are awakening in new incarnations, uncertain how their neighbors, friends, and family will greet them.
Some see the transformations as the long-dreaded overturning of the established order that must be resisted to a bitter end. In many, like Anders’s father and Oona’s mother, a sense of profound loss and unease wars with profound love. As the bond between Anders and Oona deepens, change takes on a different hue—an opportunity for a kind of rebirth, a chance to see ourselves anew.
In Mohsin Hamid’s lyrical and urgent prose, The Last White Man powerfully uplifts our capacity for empathy and the transcendence over bigotry, fear, and anger it can achieve.