Language & Logic

This chapter is part of Pearl Z’s Portfolio Project, where she reads classic works of literature alongside paired nonfiction articles. Her goal is to explore how stories — fictional and real — shape human thought, culture, and values.

Theme: Truth, Lies & the Power of Storytelling

Classic Book: The Girl Who Drank the Moon – Kelly Barnhill

Nonfiction Article: How Telling Stories Makes Us Human – Jeffrey Kluger on December 5, 2017

Book Summary – The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill 

Kelly Barnhill’s The Girl Who Drank the Moon is a masterful fantasy novel that explores the power of love, grief, and the transformative nature of storytelling. Set in the Protectorate, a community bound by fear and oppression, each year its people sacrifice an infant to a supposed witch to ensure their safety. Unbeknownst to them, the witch, Xan, is compassionate and secretly rescues the babies, feeding them starlight before placing them with loving families. One fateful year, Xan accidentally feeds a baby named Luna with magical moonlight, imbuing her with immense and uncontrollable power. Xan raises Luna with the help of a swamp monster named Glerk and a tiny dragon named Fyrian. As Luna’s thirteenth birthday approaches, her magic threatens to overwhelm her, forcing Xan to suppress it at great personal cost. Meanwhile, Antain, a thoughtful boy from the Protectorate, becomes disillusioned after witnessing the cruelty inflicted on a grieving mother. The narrative’s central conflict revolves around unmasking the true source of evil—the manipulative Sister Ignatia, who thrives on the community’s sorrow. The climax unfolds in the enchanted forest, where long-hidden truths surface, grief is confronted, and healing begins. Barnhill poignantly captures the emotional depth of storytelling with the line, “Stories are the way we remember what we love,” emphasizing how narrative preserves memory and fosters healing amid grief. Symbolically, moonlight represents a “dangerous, powerful” magic full of possibilities, contrasting with starlight’s gentler innocence. Ultimately, the novel reveals that “The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable,” underscoring the painful but necessary journey toward liberation and hope.

Article Summary – How Telling Stories Makes Us Human by Jeffrey Kluger

In “How Telling Stories Makes Us Human,” Jeffrey Kluger offers a compelling examination of storytelling as a fundamental evolutionary adaptation that shapes human social life. Drawing on research conducted among the Agta hunter-gatherers of the Philippines, Kluger reveals that storytelling is not mere entertainment but a vital mechanism for reinforcing social norms such as empathy, cooperation, and fairness. He asserts that “Storytelling is not just entertainment; it’s a way of understanding and organizing the world,” highlighting how narratives help humans navigate complex social realities. The study found that villages with more skilled storytellers exhibited greater generosity and stronger communal bonds. Kluger notes, “Villages with more skilled storytellers shared more resources and showed greater social cohesion,” emphasizing storytelling’s role in fostering cooperation. These storytellers were also preferred as social partners and enjoyed increased reproductive success, underscoring the adaptive advantages of narrative skill. He further explains that “The ability to tell a good story is a powerful social tool, enhancing trust and bonding,” which directly relates to storytelling’s capacity to build identity and community. This scientific insight resonates deeply with The Girl Who Drank the Moon, where myths and stories both imprison and liberate characters. Like the Agta’s tales that sustain social harmony, Barnhill’s novel uses storytelling to unravel harmful legends and catalyze healing. Both texts illustrate that storytelling is an indispensable human tool, one that shapes identity, reinforces moral values, and ultimately enables transformation at both personal and societal levels.

Book Lens – The Girl Who Drank the Moon by Kelly Barnhill

“The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.”

Article Lens – How Telling Stories Makes Us Human by Jeffrey Kluger

Jeffrey Kluger argues that storytelling is not mere entertainment but a crucial evolutionary tool that has shaped human survival. Studying the Agta people of the Philippines, researchers found that communities with skilled storytellers were more generous, cooperative, and socially bonded. Kluger explains:

“Storytelling is not just entertainment; it’s a way of understanding and organizing the world.”

Narrative skill even led to higher social status and reproductive success, showing that stories can influence not only culture but also biology. Like Barnhill’s novel, Kluger demonstrates that stories hold real power: they can sustain communities and inspire cooperation, but if twisted, they can mislead.

Voices in Dialogue

Stories have always been a fundamental part of human life, shaping our understanding of the world, guiding behavior, and influencing communities. Yet, stories are not inherently good or bad; their power can both save and harm. Kelly Barnhill’s The Girl Who Drank the Moon and Jeffrey Kluger’s article “How Telling Stories Makes Us Human” reveal this complex duality by showing how stories can imprison or liberate, divide or unite.

In Barnhill’s novel, the Protectorate is bound by a harmful story—the witch is evil and demands infant sacrifices to keep the town safe. This lie creates fear, grief, and division, forcing a community to accept cruelty under false pretences. The townspeople live trapped by this oppressive narrative, unable to see the truth that Xan, the witch, is kind and protective. This false story causes deep suffering, showing how storytelling can be a tool of harm. However, the novel also illustrates the redemptive power of truth. When Luna’s true identity and the reality of Xan’s kindness emerge, the community begins to heal and rebuild. As Barnhill writes, “The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable,” capturing how confronting painful truths is necessary for liberation. Stories, when truthful, can dismantle fear and restore hope.

Jeffrey Kluger’s nonfiction article complements this by explaining storytelling’s evolutionary role in human survival. Research on the Agta people reveals that storytelling fosters social cooperation, empathy, and generosity. Communities with skilled storytellers share more and build stronger bonds. Storytelling enhances trust and social status, becoming a vital tool for cohesion and survival. However, Kluger’s findings also caution that stories wield great influence and can cause harm if rooted in deception or used to manipulate, much like the Protectorate’s myth.

Together, these works show that stories are double-edged: they can save us by fostering connection, truth, and empathy, or cause harm by spreading fear and lies. It is our responsibility to critically examine the stories we tell and choose those that build rather than destroy.

Narrative Echo

Just outside the square, I squatted on the rooftop. As I bent forward to listen, the damp seeped into my fingertips and the tiles were slippery with dew. The fragrance of cabbage spread as smoke curled skyward from the cooking fires. In a deep, resonant voice, the elders said, “The witch demands an infant each year, or she will punish us all.” The crowd was shaken by the statements. There was a cough. An infant let out a whimper. The weight of silence made the stage’s boards creak.

I believed them once. The story seemed indestructible to me, etched into the very fabric of the Protectorate. However, the plot fell apart when I slid into the swamp last night. Xan was present. Not the beast of claw and curse, not the witch of the stories. She rocked a kid wrapped in light the way my mother used to rock me. She had a fatigued, not a mean, expression. The sight stuck to me like ice.

The village remains stable despite the weight of the falsehood. It’s rough, worn, and warm enough to keep the cold at bay, much like the cloak that covers my shoulders. In my hands, the truth feels more diminutive and brittle, like a quivering bird. Maybe I can save the next child if I say it out loud. Or perhaps I am abandoned, isolated, and my voice is muffled by the people I care about. I’ll be safe if I say nothing, but the falsehood will continue to spread year after year.

The prayer bell tolled, low and unyielding, its sound folding into the night. Cold crept through the tiles into my bones, but still I looked upward. The moon hung over the square like a silent witness, its silver light pressing on every shadow, every lie. My throat ached with words unsaid. Tonight, I keep them buried. Tomorrow, perhaps, I will let them rise.

Insights & Takeaways

Through exploring both The Girl Who Drank the Moon and Jeffrey Kluger’s article, I’ve come to understand that stories have immense power to shape who we are and how societies function. Stories are not mere entertainment; they carry truths, lies, memories, and values that influence beliefs and actions. In Barnhill’s novel, the harmful lie about the witch causes real suffering by justifying cruelty and fear. Yet, when the truth is revealed through new stories, healing begins. Kluger’s research shows that storytelling is fundamental to human evolution—it builds trust, cooperation, and social bonds necessary for survival. What stands out to me is that stories can both imprison and liberate us. Lies can trap communities in fear, but truth-telling stories can foster empathy and change. This taught me the importance of questioning the stories I hear and share, because the stories we believe shape our world. Ultimately, stories hold the responsibility to either unite or divide us, and it is essential to choose stories rooted in compassion and honesty.