Why The Giver of the Stars Still Matters to Readers Today

Why The Giver of the Stars Still Matters to Readers Today

If you haven't picked up Jojo Moyes’ The Giver of the Stars, you’re missing out on a story that feels like a gut punch and a warm hug all at once. It’s a 2019 historical fiction novel that managed to climb its way onto every bestseller list—and stay there. Why? Because it isn't just some dusty period piece. It’s about the Packhorse Librarians of Kentucky. These women were the literal lifeline for families tucked away in the deepest, most inaccessible parts of the Appalachian Mountains during the Great Depression.

Honestly, the premise sounds like something a screenwriter dreamed up, but it’s rooted in a very real piece of American history. Alice Wright, the protagonist, is a British "war bride" of sorts, though her war is just a desperate need to escape her suffocating life in England. She marries a handsome American, Bennett Van Cleve, thinking she’s heading for a life of glamour or at least some basic freedom. Instead, she lands in Baileyville, Kentucky, living under the thumb of a domineering father-in-law and a husband who doesn't seem to know what to do with her.

The Reality of the Packhorse Librarians

The heart of The Giver of the Stars is the WPA (Works Progress Administration) program. Eleanor Roosevelt championed this. It was a push to get books into the hands of people who had never even seen a library. We aren't talking about driving a van down a paved road. These women rode horses and mules through creek beds, up muddy slopes, and into remote cabins. They dealt with snow, rain, and—as Moyes depicts with terrifying clarity—men who thought "book larnin'" was a sin or a waste of time.

Margery O’Hare is the character who really anchors the book. She’s the daughter of a notorious local family, and she doesn't give a damn what the town thinks. She’s the one who recruits Alice. Watching their friendship develop is the best part of the narrative. It’s messy. It’s earned. It isn't that typical "instant besties" trope you see in lower-quality fiction. They have to prove themselves to each other in a landscape that is actively trying to break them.

History tells us these librarians were paid about $28 a month. That’s it. For that pittance, they braved mountain lions and hostile moonshiners. Moyes captures this grit perfectly. You can almost feel the dampness of the Kentucky air and the smell of wet horse hair while you're reading. It's immersive because it respects the difficulty of the work. These weren't just "ladies who liked books." They were pioneers of literacy in a region where the illiteracy rate was staggering.

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Why Alice Wright’s Journey Resonates

Alice is a classic fish out of water. Her transition from a polite English socialite to a woman who can handle a horse in a mountain storm is satisfying. But it’s her emotional shift that sticks. She realizes that her marriage is a cage. In Baileyville, the expectations for women were rigid. You stay home. You obey. You don't ask questions. By joining the library, Alice finds a community of women—Izzy, Sophia, and Beth—who are carving out their own agency.

It's a bit of a slow burn. The book takes its time establishing the geography and the social hierarchy of the town. The Van Cleve family represents the industrial interests of the time, specifically the coal mines. This creates a friction between the "progress" of the mine and the "enlightenment" of the books. When a local man is found dead and Margery is accused of his murder, the story shifts gears into a courtroom drama. It’s a sharp turn, but it works because it highlights how much the establishment feared these independent women.

Addressing the Controversy

You can't really talk about The Giver of the Stars without acknowledging the elephant in the room. Shortly after the book was released, author Kim Michele Richardson pointed out striking similarities between Moyes’ book and her own novel, The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek. Both are about the Packhorse Librarians. Both feature a librarian who is an outcast.

People get really heated about this. Richardson’s book focuses on a "Blue person" of Kentucky—individuals with methemoglobinemia—while Moyes focuses on the British transplant experience. Moyes' publisher, Pamela Dorman Books, stood by the work, noting that the Packhorse Library project is a well-documented historical fact available to any researcher. It’s a complicated situation. Writers often stumble upon the same historical nuggets at the same time. Whether it's a coincidence or something else is something readers still debate on Reddit and in book clubs today. Regardless of where you stand, both books brought much-needed attention to a forgotten chapter of female-led history.

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What Makes the Writing Style Different?

Moyes has this way of writing that feels very cinematic. It makes sense, given that her previous smash hit, Me Before You, was turned into a major film. In The Giver of the Stars, she uses the landscape as a character. The mountains are beautiful, sure, but they’re also a wall. They keep people in and they keep ideas out.

The dialogue is snappy. It doesn't feel overly formal or "olde worlde." It feels alive.
She writes about:

  • The crushing weight of 1930s sexism.
  • The racial tensions involving Sophia, a Black librarian who has to operate in the shadows of the law.
  • The simple joy of a child seeing a picture book for the first time.
  • The way a community can turn on its own in a heartbeat.

Fact-Checking the History

If you're wondering how much is true, the answer is "most of the logistics." The Packhorse Library Initiative really did serve over 100,000 people. They didn't just deliver books; they delivered hope. They even created "scrapbooks" where mountain families would share recipes or quilting patterns, which the librarians would then carry to the next house. Moyes includes this detail, and it’s one of the most touching parts of the book. It shows that literacy isn't just about reading great novels—it’s about connection.

The coal mining backdrop is also historically accurate. The 1930s were a brutal time for Kentucky miners. The tension between the laborers and the owners was a powder keg. By weaving this into Alice’s domestic life, Moyes shows that the personal is always political. Alice’s father-in-law isn't just a mean guy; he’s a symbol of a dying, oppressive way of life that relies on keeping people uneducated.

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Actionable Insights for Readers and Enthusiasts

If you’ve finished the book and want to dive deeper, don't just stop at the final page. There’s a whole world of history behind this story that is just as fascinating as the fiction.

  1. Check out the actual archives. The Franklin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library and Museum has digitized photos of the real librarians. Seeing their faces—weather-beaten, tired, but proud—changes how you view Alice and Margery.
  2. Read the "other" book. Seriously. Read Kim Michele Richardson’s The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek. It offers a much grittier, more localized perspective on the same era and deals with the fascinating history of the Blue People of Kentucky. It’s a great companion piece.
  3. Support your local library. The central theme of The Giver of the Stars is that access to information is a human right. In an age of digital noise, physical libraries are still doing the work these women started.
  4. Visit the region. If you're ever in Eastern Kentucky, look for the historical markers. The terrain is still rugged and breathtaking. You'll gain a whole new respect for anyone trying to navigate those trails on a mule.

The ending of the novel provides a sense of closure that feels earned rather than forced. It’s about the power of female solidarity. When the world tells you to be quiet, you find the people who will help you find your voice. Alice, Margery, and the others didn't just give books; they gave the people of the mountains a window to the outside world.

Whether you're into historical fiction for the romance, the history, or the drama, this book delivers. It’s a reminder that progress is often carried on the backs of people—usually women—who are willing to do the hard, unglamorous work of making the world a little bit smaller and a little bit kinder. Take the time to look into the WPA records after you finish; the real-life stories are every bit as heroic as the ones Moyes wrote.