Hot take: I found it very hard not to hate this book. Perhaps it was wrong book, wrong time. Perhaps it was just depressing AF. I know, I know—that was likely the whole point.

The book itself is well-written and immersive. Kingsolver does a phenomenal job capturing some really agonizing realities: addiction, poverty, fostering, death, griet, abuse. The level of realism forces readers to feel like they’re going through the troubles the characters are, and that alone is painful.

If I had to rate this for enjoyment, it'd probably be a three-star read. For storytelling? I'll give it four.

After pondering over it all for a week or so now, I wonder if this story has gotten praise because it ebbs towards poverty-porn. Is it a good story because it's a good story? Or because of how dramatic and sad it is? I guess that will be up to you to decide.