Where the Crawdads Sing

Where the Crawdads Sing

This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.

This review may contain spoilers.

Marsh girl sure do look so purdy livin’ out there all alone on the bayou puttin’ on all that blush each time she boats around the swamp to draw sketches of CGI cranes or pluck mollusks from the sea. She sure savvy, too, seducing all them wide-eyed Carolina boys with her sweetly lit dimples and illiterate eyes learning to read real good for the first time at the young age of 28. It’s just a gosh darn shame that her daddy smacked everyone in the family real mean and nasty, forcing mommy and the siblings to leave in staged procession, toting them tidy suitcases in hand. The whole lot of ‘em abandonin’ poor marsh girl to fend for herself as a social pariah, survivin’ among them alligators, willow trees, and grits. But fate would have it she just so happened to lure handsome and charming Tate Walker straight into her feral marshy arms and he makes a true scholar straight out of her. Before we know it, the autumn leaves are a-swirlin’ and our marsh girl is a-spinnin’ around doe-eyed in Tate’s hunky arm. 


Sadly, dizzy from all the giddy swooning & soapiness, my eyes rolled so far back in my head by the midway point that I half-digested the cringe courtroom drama speeches before zoning out completely for most of the The Notebook-style ending. I did, however, catch whiff of the big twist, with the necklace shell revealin’ itself in marsh girl’s notebook and the sappy narrator explainin' how murderin’ ain’t bad when it’s just part of endurin’ in the wild. That marsh girl sure sounds like she got a mean, sneaky streak in her. I get survival can be fraught in the swamp and all but talkin’ bout Darwinian impulses to justify manslaughterin’ the chauvinist/rapist* Chase Andrews seems a bit of a reach…

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