The use of one's voice is one of the most powerful weapons humans possess. However, too often its full potential is not exploited and, instead, it is neglected, used to harm or silenced altogether. Voices are formed over many years and experiences and evolve over the course of life. Each individual has a unique and unique voice, and this self-expression can never be taken away unless it is allowed to be. In her novel The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsovler investigates this idea of ​​voice by writing a story told through the points of view of five different women. Through the lens of Orleanna, Rachel, Leah, Adah, and Ruth May, the reader is able to better understand the intense and complex situation in the Congo at this time because it is presented through five different points of view. When the same story is told over and over again with different perspectives and filters, the reader is able to truly grasp the full picture. Kingsolver's use and exploration of voice technique in The Poisonwood Bible allows her to create a complex novel with many layers, as her characters and their voices evolve over the course of their time in the Congo and beyond. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay Rather than writing the novel in the third person or a single first-person narrative, "the [five-person] narrative point of view creates a field of mutual subjects, all crucial to the story but none exclusive or central. The The heart of the novel emerges only by stacking multiple interpretations and discerning the similarities and differences that together shape the larger vision" ( Ognibene 21). Kingsolver gives us not only the same story told through five different women, but also the same story told through five women with drastically different world, political, and religious views. The “revelatory narrative circle” of the five women also offers a “feminist alternative to historical writing” which, as Austenfeld indicates, is usually dominated by men (294). When asked why she bothered to write five different points of view, Kingsolver herself replied "because it was necessary for the theme of the novel" (author interview). At its core, the novel is a political allegory, and Kingsolver goes on to say that he wanted to analyze the entire spectrum of attitudes toward the political situation itself, from "Orleanna's paralyzing guilt to the cheerful 'What, do I worry?' " (Some Previous). Because each narrative is oriented to the narrator speaking, the reader is able to fully understand a conflict of which he or she is not a part. This technique also provides a more humanistic approach to understanding a political situation that is usually depicted through television screens and nightly news, rather than a family at the center of it. Kingsolver's novel is also intricate because it uses five different female voices, however, within a few chapters, the reader is quickly able to distinguish the speaker and distinguish them. Kingsolver says this was one of the biggest challenges he faced and says he “spent almost a year just honing the different voices” (author interview). This is evident throughout the novel as the reader distinguishes between each of the distinct narrators. Rachel's voice is that of a teenager, catapulted into a life she didn't ask for in the middle of turbulent Congo. She cares about the “Sweet Sixteens” and her hair rather than the dangerous and complicated world she lives in now. In this sense, it “represents American material culture at its best”( Ognibene 31). Although she seems very removed from her situation (often due to her own actions), Rachel is incredibly insightful and "represents human relationships, material details, conversations, and emotions with great accuracy" (Austenfeld 295). As Elaine Ognibene succinctly writes, “Rachel sees the truth about the things that concern her” (31). Yet, she often confuses her words, speaking in malapropism, which John Mullan says is the result of her "perfection" (12). Similar to her older sister in her penchant for honesty, younger sister Ruth May offers an unfiltered view of the world around her. his. Ruth May's naive understanding of her family's situation is representative of the average American's attempts to understand the circumstances they witness from afar. She regurgitates everything she absorbs, and the reader is given a “large sample of everything she sees, hears, smells, dreams, and feels” (Austenfeld 296).2 Although her voice may seem small or insignificant compared to that of others, Ruth May's stories offer much-needed positive, childlike relief from the harsh world others live in. As Ruth May focuses on playing with other children and enjoying her five-year-old self, the reader develops an affection for her and is just as drastically affected as the other four women in the novel when she is cruelly taken from the world. The two most in-depth and intellectual accounts of the Congo come from the twins, Leah and Adah. From their relationship (or attempted relationship) with their father to their physical appearance, these twins couldn't be more opposites. Leah is desperate for any kind of knowledge and seeks it wherever she can find it. Leah is a quick and avid learner and often “presents historical and cultural details and describes relationships and emotional connections” (Austenfeld 295-296). Imbued with the biblical teachings of her father that she desperately wants to obey, Leah's stories “combine biblical cadence with ready-made clichés” (Mullan 12). Leah is also the only member of the Price family who uses her voice to learn and speak the Kikango language and connect with the villagers. On the other hand there is Adah, who uses her voice the least. Although Adah “chooses silence, recognizing its advantages in certain circumstances,” when Adah speaks to the reader, her words are meandering and intriguing ( Ognibene 27). Her silence allows her to absorb and analyze the situations around her, and her “social marginalization by both society and family, leaves her free to reflect on the wonder of the natural world, on the absurdity of the man-made world and on the currents of language, biology, and political intrigue that flow around her” (Austenfeld 296). The “speechless expert,” Adah fills her pages with palindromes, rhymes, and poems—her way of interpreting the world around her (Mullan 12). However, Adah's evolution is impressive as she eventually takes on her voice after leaving the Congo. Free from her father's rule, further developing her abilities and excelling, "Adah finds her voice in a language of self-definition and science" ( Ognibene 29). Not only does Adah find her voice, but she begins to use it to become an advocate as she conducts medical research on AIDS and seeks some kind of forgiveness for her time in Africa and the destruction she believes she is responsible for. Orleanna Price also begins to seek forgiveness for the events in the Congo, but like Adah, it is only once she leaves Africa that she is able to discover her voice and use it for empowerment and change. Orleanna's story is the only one in hindsight as she addresses her dead child. Only after being removed from this terrible situation is Orleanna able to watch” (302).