Fierce Kingdom by Gin Phillips

I try not to pull the Mother Card; the, "only a mother would understand," half-insult to everyone who hasn't pushed a kid out of their body, or adopted one as soon they were. I parent like they did in the '80's - I don't know what they're doing and they don't know what I'm doing. But reading Fierce Kingdom by Gin Phillips tugged at a very specific part of my heart, the part that was suddenly ignited after having, and taking care of, my own kids. While this novel will no doubt have a profound affect on most anyone who reads it, a mother can take this novel to another, heart-wrenching level. I would love to lead a discussion group comprised of both moms and non-moms to dissect the depths of this book.

A fast-paced, breathless novel, Fierce Kingdom begins as the zoo is closing and Joan and her 4-year old son, Lincoln, are rushing to the exit. As he picks up his toy action figures, a tragedy begins - and continues to unfold - unbeknownst to them and a few other zoo stragglers. Creating a world in which the desolate zoo is creepy in and of itself, Phillips is able to implore that while being accidentally locked in with the scraggly animals isn't ideal, it's about to become downright dangerous. The next three hours - the entirety of the novel - is a gripping, suspenseful game of cat-and-mouse that has become all too commonplace in today's world.

Well-written in a halting, concise manner, Phillips creates a vivid world within in the zoo, where the outside world, and the Who's and Why's don't matter. However, the imagery is a bit too much and I found myself either zoning out or getting confused, and important details seem to pop out of nowhere, causing me to re-read several pages, or have to flip back. What Phillips does expertly, though, is create a character in Joan that is Mother; playing on the natural empathy of humans in general and the savage empathy of mothers in particular. There is not a mother alive who wouldn't ask themselves, "what would I have done?" without also completely understanding the steps Joan takes; the trash can scene in particular is a genius indicator of where we land on the Nuclear Family timeline.

A page-turner at its best, this is a quick, though emotionally savage, novel that made me cling to my three-and-a-half-year old son - and oddly enough - want to visit the zoo, because - as Susanna Daniel expertly observes - we live "in a world teeming with pressing domestic details along with unpredictable violence." A brilliant gut-punch of a read.