53 pages 1-hour read

The Lioness

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2022

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Themes

Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of racism, death, graphic violence, child abuse, physical abuse, substance use, addiction, mental illness, bullying, antigay bias, and sexual content.

Motives for Human Violence and Cruelty

The novel’s Serengeti setting establishes an implicit comparison between human and animal predators. The landscape hosts its share of dangers, from crocodiles and poisonous trees to snakes, leopards, and hyenas. Time and again, however, characters observe that the human predators are deadlier and more frightening because while animals kill for sustenance or protection, humans engage in violence for a multitude of reasons, many of which are difficult to understand or predict.


The many wars and human rights abuses that the novel references frame human violence as inevitable, often springing from ideological or economic motivations. Reggie’s experience in Okinawa reminds the reader that the World War II era is within living memory for these characters. Likewise, the Simba rebellion in the Congo and the Cold War struggle between the US and Russia serve as reminders that humans fight and kill over ideas. Meanwhile, the references to uranium and gold mines in the Congo suggest how readily humans will exploit one another for economic profit. That economic factors also drove the brutal enslavement experienced by Terrance’s ancestors frames such violence as a constant across eras.


The novel also explores violence on a more intimate scale. A passing reference to cheerleaders who shut Carmen into a locker references the bullying of those seen as undesirable or inferior but also hints at the group psychology that contributes to such violence. Meanwhile, Glenda Stepnov’s abuse of her children is implied to have stemmed partly from substance use and mental illness, but other factors were at play as well. The novel suggests that she viewed Katie, whom Glenda put on a punishing regimen of diet and exercise, as an extension of herself and thus abused her to “prove” her own desirability. A similar impulse toward self-aggrandizement and validation, much like that of the Hollywood predators Katie has encountered in her career, may have motivated her abuse of her son, but the novel’s overall impulse is to avoid this kind of explanation. Billy is never able to understand what motivated his mother to shut him in the coat closet so frequently, nor why his father—who only struck Billy once, as he recalls—never intervened to protect him. The violence was unpredictable and illogical, which is part of what made it so traumatic.


One final motive for cruelty that the novel posits is simply the drive for personal power. When Katie has a private conversation with Charlie Patton and makes a joke about photo safaris being less “manly” than hunting safaris, Charlie immediately attacks David. In defending her husband, Katie realizes “she had shown [Charlie] her belly” (269), implying that the combination of her own vulnerability and Charlie’s insecurity caused him to lash out, shoring up his own ego. Violence here becomes a mechanism for psychological survival as well as physical survival.


In short, the novel suggests that humans are the more dangerous beasts when motivated by selfishness, greed, or the sheer will to dominate. While a handful of characters are killed by animal predators, most of the fatalities in the novel are caused by humans. How one can protect oneself from and survive the human predator is a key question posed in the novel.

The Legacy of Colonialism

In tandem with the theme of human violence and cruelty, the novel explores the violence of colonialism and white supremacy. Bohjalian draws parallels between the legacies of enslavement in the United States and imperialism in Africa, considering the economic and ideological repercussions of two intersecting forms of exploitation.


Both the enslavement of Black Americans and the colonization of Africa originated as profit-driven enterprises, as Western powers exploited labor and natural resources to enrich their own economies. The Lioness shows how this pattern persisted even after enslavement and colonialism had nominally ended. For instance, Terrance flinches when Judy, an actress who now lives in Kenya, references her coffee plantation. This isn’t just because the term invokes the “plantations” worked by enslaved laborers in America; it’s because he recognizes that Judy’s profits as a white landowner in Africa depend on the labor of Kenyan workers. Similarly, Benjamin Kikwete references the gold mines in which his grandfather labored for Western interests, a holdover of the European capture of Africa’s means of production. The result is a system in which African nations, though nominally independent, remain tethered to a colonial power structure with little control over their own resources. This is true on the individual level, as well, as Benjamin observes: “The lesson that his grandfather took away from his adolescence and his year at the gold mine […] was that survival depended on white people” (118). Indeed, while Benjamin recognizes the injustice of this, he himself works for Charlie Patton, a white man whose business relies on the expertise and labor of the African men he employs.


The novel also explores the racist ideology that bolstered such economic systems and persists even as the systems themselves were (at least ostensibly) dismantled. Terrance’s character is key in this regard: As an American actor, he belongs to a relatively elite economic class but remains subject to racism. For instance, he receives death threats not simply because he is a Black man but because he is romantically associated with white women. The much-referred-to kiss in his and Katie’s film Tender Madness also illustrates how racism dictated artistic choices made by studios based on what white audiences would accept. However, it is Terrance’s interrogation of the phrase “great white hunter” that provides the most detailed look at the mechanisms of racism. “Are there no great Black hunters?” Terrance wonders. “Or are there white hunters who aren’t great?” (159). Terrance here questions why the figure of a white man is valorized, even legendary, in a land populated mostly by Black people, particularly given that it is these Indigenous Africans who would have taught the white hunter the skills that made him “great.” The phrase thus reveals the intersection of colonialism as an economic system and colonialism as an ideology, demonstrating how the exploitation of Black labor requires the erasure and devaluing of Blackness—a legacy that persists in the so-called postcolonial era.

The Fragility of Intimate Relationships

Amid the larger themes of national unrest, global warfare, and political dissension, the novel examines intimate human relationships and the vulnerabilities that these relationships either cause or expose. These relationships refract the theme of survival by suggesting at certain points that attachment contributes practical resources as well as emotional resilience; this is best illustrated through the efforts of Reggie and Carmen, acquaintances who bond in their shared attempt to survive their kidnapping and subsequent escape. More often, however, the novel suggests that intimate relationships render those in them vulnerable to uniquely painful violence and suffering.


Carmen is again an example of this. Though she loves Felix, she is aware of, and not impressed by, his compulsive need to name-drop his successful father in hopes of persuading people like Peter Merrick to see Felix as more influential or talented by association. Carmen is briefly ashamed of herself for feeling disgusted when Felix vomits as they are kidnapped. When Felix dies, she grieves for him, but she has already seen that he is not someone she can admire. The kidnapping thus exposes a preexisting strain in the relationship, though not one caused by malice on Felix’s part.


Similarly, the novel demonstrates that even happy, healthy relationships carry inherent risks. Reggie suffered a loss when his friend and lover, Luke, who was also a veteran of World War II, died by suicide. This compounded Reggie’s sense of loneliness since, as a gay man, he did not feel permitted to be public about his relationships or affections. Luke’s death underscores how precarious relationships are and how deeply the loss of them can wound, even if no one is “to blame.”


Nevertheless, the novel is particularly interested in betrayal, and the greatest betrayal is David’s. Even through his own reflections, David emerges as a weak-willed man who has not been honest with Katie about his finances or about his lovers. It ultimately emerges that this very dishonesty and infidelity have led him to take part in the kidnapping scheme, endangering not only his wife but all of her friends and family. Tellingly, it is only when he learns that the Russians do not plan to free him that David makes a bid at resistance. This focus on his own well-being proves a betrayal that Carmen thinks breaks Katie’s spirit: “I don’t know what destroyed her more […] the way she felt responsible for so many people dying, or the way she felt David had betrayed her” (307). Katie’s retreat from the public eye, after beginning the book as one of Hollywood’s most admired actresses, suggests that betrayal within intimate relationships can prove the most painful violence, leaving wounds that run deep.

blurred text
blurred text
blurred text

Unlock every key theme and why it matters

Get in-depth breakdowns of the book’s main ideas and how they connect and evolve.

  • Explore how themes develop throughout the text
  • Connect themes to characters, events, and symbols
  • Support essays and discussions with thematic evidence