The Lioness

“You just never knew what you would see and where you might detour.”

In the first chapter, Katie reflects on the delightful unpredictability of her trip. After she’s kidnapped, this line reads as ironic foreshadowing of a detour that none of them saw coming.

“The Serengeti doesn’t change. Wildebeest don’t respect national boundaries. They don’t care about borders.”

When David brings up the danger of “revolutions” on a safari, Katie replies with this comment. Her characterization of the Serengeti as a timeless landscape is in part naïve exoticism, yet the novel suggests that there is some truth to what she says: Outside of environmental degradation/encroachment, human conflict is irrelevant to animals. Katie’s mistake is applying this lesson to herself and her friends because, as the novel consistently argues, violence between humans is particularly intractable and destructive.

“We’re our own country now […] We’re in charge.”

Benjamin’s exchange with Terrance over what it is like to be Black men in their respective countries reveals the hope Benjamin feels regarding Tanzanian independence. In particular, he suggests that the kind of racism Terrance experiences in the US cannot persist in Tanzania. While the novel reveals this perspective to be naïve in some respects, his remark adds nuance to the theme of The Legacy of Colonialism, implicitly challenging the notion that Benjamin is “less free” than Terrance simply because he works openly for a white man.

“And so she said nothing, and an idea came to her and it gave her pause: what if this is the man that I married?”

The plot repeatedly forces characters to confront themselves; their reflections are then balanced by flashbacks that give insight into the people around them. In the first attack, Carmen reflects on her husband’s reaction to the violence and wonders if her idea of him is accurate. This speaks to the novel’s theme of The Fragility of Intimate Relationships.

“He wondered what that was like—to be stoic, to be strong, to be unafraid.”

Much of the interior movement of the novel has to do with characters coming to terms with their pasts or the things they are afraid of. Felix, who admits his own cowardice, uses the image of an ostrich to wonder what a lack of fear might feel like—one of many ways the animals of the Serengeti provide metaphors and foils for the humans.

“And as dangerous as a leopard or a buffalo might be? Nothing compared to the Russians—at least the crowd they send here. […] If I ever tell any of you I’m feeling…Russiany? Duck and cover.”

Charlie Patton’s mention of Russian involvement in the fighting in East Africa foreshadows the Russian involvement in the kidnapping plot and sets up information that will later be revealed about Charlie’s association with Victor Procenko. Charlie’s comparison of human predators to natural predators makes a distinction about human cruelty that is key to the theme of Motives for Human Violence and Cruelty.

“He still seemed to live with one foot in another era, the world before the war, and sometimes seemed to think it was 1934—not 1964.”

Katie’s reflection on Charlie captures the man’s character; he is defined as one of a vanishing breed, not adapting well to the demands of the modern era because his skills are as a hunter. He particularly represents Africa’s colonial history, which has left its mark.

“He had vowed as soon as his first wife was pregnant with their first child to always ask himself, what would my mother or father do in this situation? And then, more times than not, do the opposite.”

The novel’s characterization of Billy reveals its interest in the impact parents have on their children—in particular, the challenge of living up to parents’ demands or of living in the shadow of their career. Billy’s concern over his parenting skills reflects his experience of trauma, contributing to the novel’s themes of cruelty and survival.

“I’d rather die charging like a rhino than bleating like a goat.”

Most of the point-of-view characters imagine fighting for their freedom, whether or not they go through with it. Benjamin’s analogy, which he expresses to Muema, captures the elemental need for survival, which is one of the book’s key subjects, but also brings out the distinctions between prey and predator, an ongoing motif. Though voiced in the context of the kidnapping, his remark also implicitly comments on the ongoing struggle for liberation from colonial powers.

“I remember one old fellow who had once been very regal. You could tell. Earned his crown. But those days were behind him. Long kicked from the pride by a younger, tougher male.”

When Charlie talks about taking pity on an old lion, he is in part entertaining the group, but he is also talking about how his ethics around hunting have changed. The aged lion becomes an image of Charlie himself, who is depicted as out of step with his era.

“They had gone back in time to a world without people, a cosmos of rivers with prehistoric-looking hippos lounging like boulders in the shallow water and crocodiles with mouths that could tear antelopes the size of ponies in half.”

The Serengeti setting exists in seeming contrast to the world of people; this image captures Reggie’s sense that the landscape is timeless and that the world continues regardless of human events. Even so, the imagery of latent violence indicates that this natural landscape holds dangers for the unwary that echo those of human society.

“Have you looked for one moment beyond Africa’s zebras and lions and giraffes? At the continent’s people? Whole nations are rising up, and all you can see is the wildlife.”

Victor Procenko scoffs when Margie asks if the kidnapping is about money. His words in this passage suggest that Margie and others in her group are too self-absorbed to see past their own entertainment and look at what’s happening in the sociopolitical realm of Africa; it implicitly critiques the colonialist construction of the continent as wilderness. However, this accusation turns out to be ironic, as Victor later admits to Billy that the kidnapping was about getting ransom for David and for Katie (though the Russians intend to funnel that money to the Simbas).

“The idea that she [the waitress] was a setup—a honey trap, to use the parlance his father would likely have used—and knew exactly who he was all along? He never saw that coming, but he guessed desperation made you an easy mark.”

David’s reflections while he is confined in his hut contain information that will later explain the motive for the kidnapping—specifically, the fact that he was being blackmailed with proof of his infidelity. David’s reference to himself as a “mark” uses language associated with hunting as part of the novel’s broader exploration of human violence.

“Aren’t the stars beautiful? […] Nights like these, I can almost understand why the ancients supposed heaven was up there.”

Reggie’s contemplation of the beauty of the night sky provides a quiet moment of reflection that balances the high dramatic tension elsewhere. Often, the unique beauty of the landscape around them contrasts with the danger the human characters are in.

“You were never going home, David Hill. You were always going to Moscow. We need to find out how much you really know about your father.”

This confrontation between David and his Russian captor reveals a point that the narrative has been heavily foreshadowing—that the Russians are interested in what David’s father does for the CIA and that this kidnapping is connected to that interest. The plot twist that David helped arrange his own kidnapping and ransom is revealed later, making this a kind of red herring.

“You’ll know your moment.”

This is an aphorism of Charlie’s that other characters make note of, and it becomes a motif in the novel, referring to many types of situations where instinct instructs a person to act. Benjamin in particular recalls the phrase as he considers how to make a bid for freedom, figuratively linking the phrase to the novel’s exploration of the colonial era (for instance, Charlie as someone whose “moment” has passed).

“She was afraid she was losing her mind, but she was far more terrified that though this had begun as a kidnapping, something had happened and everything had changed and now it was going to be a massacre.”

Katie’s fear for the others as they are detained in the huts reflects her sense that she is responsible for their fate since the safari was her idea. This blame contributes to Katie’s tragic character arc in the novel. The mention of a massacre recalls the anecdote about the Russian hunters massacring the elephants, an image that communicates their cruelty and creates suspense around who will survive this attack.

“Perhaps that was the worst kind of monster: the kind who had blue eyes and small constellations of freckles, and yet was humanized by fingers made knobby by injury or illness. The fact was, Hollywood was awash with exactly that sort of predator.”

Katie observes that their captor, the blue-eyed Russian who turns out to be Colonel Victor Procenko, is handsome and charismatic, and she compares his dangerous charisma to predatory men she has met in Hollywood. That people are more complex than they initially appear is one of the novel’s messages, communicated through several examples.

“But the worst of the wild animals? The humans. The people who had kidnapped him. Perhaps they could be reasoned with—unlike a charging rhino or a hungry lioness—but they were senselessly cruel.”

Billy’s reflections during captivity echo Katie’s, suggesting their similarities as characters. Part of what links them is their shared experience of abuse by their parents, which also underscores the theme of violence, cruelty, and human predation that Billy discusses here.

“She had the wrong Hemingway story and the wrong woman. She was Helen from ‘The Snows of Kilimanjaro,’ watching as Harry went in and out of consciousness before dying, and she waited for the airplane that was never going to come.”

The novel frequently alludes to writer Ernest Hemingway, referencing both his works about Africa and his image as a portrait of masculinity. Carmen’s reference to “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” foreshadows Reggie’s death from his wounds, as the same fate awaits the narrator of that story. Hemingway’s stories provide thematic parallels because they are about confrontation, masculinity, courage, survival, and the complexities of intimate relationships.

“Situation was the word that was sometimes used by the press, a polite euphemism for upheaval and slaughter.”

In a flashback, Terrance and Katie discuss the “situation” in Africa. The violence in the Congo furnishes part of the setting for the novel. The violence of the Simba rebellion also parallels the violence experienced by the traveling Americans while providing a larger comment on the colonial tensions that surround the novel.

“There’s nothing about this land that’s as small as a carnival or as predictable as a carnival.”

A conversation between Katie and Charlie in which she compares him to a carnival barker and the Serengeti to Disneyland underlines Katie’s role as a spectator—a tourist there to consume the landscape. This, the novel suggests, is a form of neocolonialism that causes tension and obstacles for those who live there.

“There are people who love that sort of blaze. Watching someone flame out before their very eyes? It’s timeless theater.”

Reggie’s advice to Carmen and Katie about not ruining their reputation or burning out reinforces his paternal role toward the actors he represents. The image of fire anticipates Carmen’s burning baobab tree but also foreshadows the impact this experience will have on Katie. It thus highlights the differences between the two women: Carmen manages to turn her ordeal into a spectacle that invites attention (and rescue), whereas Katie simply “flames out.”