Barbara Kingsolver’s Demon Copperhead, the co-winner of the 2023 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and the 2023 Women’s Prize for Fiction, is nothing short of extraordinary. A contemporary reimagining of Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield, this novel is both a homage and a fiercely original story that captures the grit, heartbreak, and resilience of a boy growing up in the neglected corners of America.
“The wonder is that you could start life with nothing, end with nothing, and lose so much in between.”

At the centre of the novel is Damon Fields, nicknamed Demon Copperhead for his flaming red hair, a child born into poverty in the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. From the very beginning, Demon is dealt an unthinkably difficult hand, born to a drug-addicted mother, orphaned young, and shuttled between unstable foster homes. His story is a raw, unflinching portrayal of survival amid addiction, systemic failure, and the deep scars of rural disenfranchisement.
Kingsolver’s choice to set the novel in Lee County, Virginia, adds a haunting realism to the narrative. Her exploration of the opioid epidemic and the broken foster care system isn’t done from a distance; it’s intimate, sometimes painfully so. Through Demon’s eyes, we experience the hopelessness of poverty but also the fierce longing for something more, something better.
Despite everything he faces, Demon’s voice is sharp, witty, and heartbreakingly honest. His first-person narration is fast-paced and emotionally charged, capturing both the innocence of youth and the wisdom earned through suffering. It is such a refreshing novel, bringing connection between the reader and the protagonist. Kingsolver never lets us forget Demon’s humanity, his deep capacity for love, his yearning for stability, and his refusal to let go of hope.
One of the novel’s most poignant motifs is Demon’s longing for the ocean, a symbol of escape, freedom, and a future beyond the confines of Lee County. It’s a quiet but powerful reminder that even in the darkest circumstances, dreams persist. That thread of hope, however fragile, runs through every page.
What struck me most was Demon’s ability to love. Even after all the betrayals and trauma, his heart remains open. The way he speaks about the people in his life is often breathtaking, tender, thoughtful, and deeply human. His moral compass, though tested, never disappears. He doesn’t get the luxury of a childhood, yet he holds onto his sense of right and wrong with remarkable strength.
This book was far from my usual read, but I’m so glad I took my friend’s recommendation, as I hope you take mine. I tend to lean toward light romance or European historical fiction, but Demon Copperhead pulled me out of my comfort zone. It left me emotionally gutted and profoundly moved. At times claustrophobic in its pain, it was also beautiful in its quiet moments of hope and connection. I found myself wanting to reach into the story and protect Demon, to tell him he was seen.
No notes. Just read it!