Archive
Book Review: Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Audiobook narrated by Robin Miles)
Summary:
The Nigerian-Biafran War (or the Nigerian Civil War, as it is also known) is seen through the intertwining lives of four different people. The daughter of a wealthy Igbo couple, Kainene, with a fierce business sense. Her fraternal twin sister, who is also the beautiful one, Olanna, an academic in love with a revolutionary-minded man named Odenigbo. Kainene’s boyfriend then fiancee, the white English writer Richard. And Ugwu. Olanna’s houseboy who came to them from a rural village. Their lives are irreparably impacted, and in some cases destroyed, by the war for a cause they all believe in, but that the world largely ignores.
Review:
I originally intended this Nigerian book to be my final read for the Africa Reading Challenge 2012, but even though I started it in November, the audiobook took over three months to get through, so it ultimately missed counting for the challenge. I thought it was much longer than my usual audiobook fare, but a quick check of the listen length shows that it is 18 hours and 56 minutes long, which is only about 7 hours longer than my norm. So why did it take me so long to finish? Well, I just didn’t enjoy it that much.
I believe I was expecting something else from Adichie, since I had previously read her book Purple Hibiscus (review), which is far more character driven than this novel. In this novel I would say the main character is actually the war, and that is something that simply does not work for my reading style. Perhaps also playing into this general feeling I got was the ensemble cast. Instead of getting to know just Olanna, for instance, and seeing her life before, during, and after the Nigerian-Biafran War, truly feeling as if I was her and living it through her, the reader is constantly jostled around among four different people. It left me unable to truly connect to any one of them, which left me feeling like they were just there as a device to let Adichie talk about the War. And it was truly an awful, horrible war precipitated by a genocide of the Igbo people, and it absolutely deserves to be talked about. It’s just for me this type of ensemble piece with the War as really the main character isn’t the best method for me to learn about a War or an atrocity. I prefer to get to know someone and see it through their eyes. Given what I had read of Adichie’s work before, I was expecting that level of connection, just with multiple characters, but that is just not what happens in this book. Perhaps it was too large, too sweeping, too much for one book. I’m not sure. But I was left without an emotional connection beyond the horror at the war atrocities, and that simply is not what I am looking for when reading a fictional piece set during a war.
As far as the plot goes, it was interesting but it was a bit confusing. Part of my confusion could have been because I listened to it, but from my understanding when I was listening, first there was an affair, then we jumped back to before the affair, then we jumped forward, then we jumped back to a different affair that came before the first affair. It was profoundly confusing. Particularly with a child referred to only as Baby (with no explanation about this for quite some time) who also randomly shows up and disappears. There was already so much going on with four different main characters and the war that this non-linear plot felt unnecessarily extraneous and confusing. However, it is possible that this plot is more clear when reading the print version, as opposed to the audio version.
The language of the writing itself is pretty, and I found periodic astute insights that I’ve come to expect and enjoy from Adichie. For instance,
Why do I love him? I don’t think love has a reason. I think love comes first, and the reasons come later.
Passages like these are what helped me enjoy the book to the extent that I did.
There is one plot point in the book that truly distressed me, so I feel I must discuss it. It is a spoiler though, so consider yourself spoiler warned for this paragraph. Throughout the book, the narration style is third person limited, which means that it is told in third person, but the reader knows what is going on in the main character’s head and is generally limited to that character’s perspective. The point of view is switched around among the four main characters, one of whom is Ugwu, the houseboy. We thus get to know him as the houseboy, he gradually grows up, and then later he is conscripted into the Biafran army. At this point, he participates in a gang rape on a waitress in a bar. I read a lot of gritty things. I routinely read books offering up the point of view of sociopaths or serial killers. I’m not averse to seeing the world through a bad person’s eyes, or through the eyes of a person who does bad things. But it has to be handled in the appropriate manner. I felt that there was entirely too much empathy toward Ugwu in the case of the gang rape. Adichie sets it up so that he walks in on his fellow soldiers gang raping this woman, and he says he doesn’t want to participate, they question his manhood, he admits in his head that he is turned on by the view of her pinned to the ground crying with her legs held apart having just been raped by a different soldier, and he participates. I think what disturbed me the most about this passage was how the narration makes it seem so ordinary. Like it’s something any man would do in that situation. Like it’s only natural he’d be turned on and get a hard-on from seeing a woman forcibly pinned to the ground so she can be gang raped by a bunch of men including himself. I think it’s awful to treat men like that. To act like they clearly are incapable of standing up for what’s right or that they’ll get a hard-on any time they see an orifice they can physically bang. Men are human beings and are entirely capable of thinking with more than their penis. Now, obviously there are men who rape, but there has got to be more going on there then I have a hard on and there’s a woman who I can stick it into. To treat rape that simply is a disservice to men and women’s humanity alike. Part of the reason why this reads this way is that we don’t know Ugwu well but we know him well enough to think that he’s an at least moderately decent young man. We don’t see a gradual downfall. No one holds a gun to his head or even implicitly threatens him with death if he doesn’t participate. It makes it seem like war makes men, even moderately good men, rape, as opposed to war simply providing more opportunities for rapists to rape. That is a perspective that I do not endorse, that I do not enjoy having sprung upon me in my literature, and that I found triggering as well. I was shocked to see it in a book by Adichie. Shocked and disappointed. It left me wishing I could scrub my brain of the book. Wishing for those hours of my life that I spent listening to it back.
Now, let me take a moment to speak about the narrator, Robin Miles. Miles is an astounding narrator. Her audiobook narration is truly voice acting. She is capable of a broad spectrum of accents, including Nigerian, British, and American, and slips in and out of them seamlessly. She easily creates a different voice for many different characters. I absolutely adored listening to her, in spite of not enjoying the book itself. Her performance of this book is easily a 5 star one.
Overall, though, the high quality narration simply could not make up for a story that failed to hit the mark with me on so many levels. It covers an important time period in Nigeria, and the highly important human rights issue of the genocide of the Igbo, but the style in which it does simply misses the mark for me. If this was all, I would still recommend the book to others who are more fond of a more impersonal, sweeping narration style. However, I also found the treatment of rape in the book to be simultaneously offensive and triggering. For this reason, I cannot recommend this book, although I do recommend the audiobook narrator, Robin Miles.
2 out of 5 stars
Source: Audible
Friday Fun! (Restaurant Work, Updates)
Hello my lovely readers! It’s been a crazy week on the blog with everything from the Nigerian Lit Reading/Reviewing Project to white trash zombies to a smack-down with a rude author. Phew! And that was just one tiny part of my life, lol.
This was my first full week working my new part-time job at the restaurant. Due to the new schedule, I can only do the gym 3 days a week instead of 5. I was worried this would lead to me losing ground on my get fit challenge, but that is clearly not to be the case. My restaurant shifts involve running around like a chicken with my head cut off for anywhere from 4 to 6 hours, and if anything I’ve seen my metabolism increase from more expended energy. And that’s just the regular shifts! I’ve also had shifts involving “guerilla marketing” or what my co-worker calls “menu bombing.” If you live in a city, you know what this entails. Running around residential neighborhoods leaving menus in mailboxes, on porches, and on cars. I had no idea how many steps are on Boston porches until I climbed them for two hours. Holy shit, Batman! It was like getting paid to do the stairmaster. (If you can’t tell, I’m happy about this). I love my part-time job! Plus they feed me dinner most shifts. Since it’s a healthy restaurant, that means free healthy food, yay!
The classic fall New England weather is here, which means crisp air and frosty mornings. Halloween decorations are up all over the city, and I clearly need to start work on figuring out my Halloween costume. My co-worker last night suggested I could pull off being Lara Croft, and I absolutely LOVE the idea, so I’m thinking that may be it. But shhh, don’t tell!
I’m really hoping to finish up the first draft of Tova Gallagher 2 this weekend, so I can get to editing my zombie book! I can’t wait to get more of my writing out to you guys. Be sure to check in tomorrow for the discussion of the next book in The Real Help Reading Project (it’s my favorite that we’ve read so far).
Tonight I’m doing yoga and hopefully seeing some friends. Happy weekends all!
Book Review: Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Nigerian Independence Day Reading/Reviewing Project)
Summary:
Kambili’s father, Eugene, is a wealthy businessman and newspaperman focused on telling the truth of the upheaval in Nigeria, but even more focused on his fanatical version of Catholicism. Kambili, her brother Jaja, and their mother all live on edge, walking on eggshells, never knowing when he might snap. In contrast, Eugene’s sister, Kambili’s Aunty Ifeoma, is a university professor and a widow, cheerfully raising her children to be independent. One winter vacation Aunty Ifeoma convinces Eugene to allow Kambili and Jaja to visit. A visit that will change their worlds forever.
Review:
You all know by now that I’m good friends with Amy, so when she asked me to participate in her one-shot project, I couldn’t say no. Although, I was completely at a loss as to what to read. I’ve never read a Nigerian book before. So I asked Amy to help me figure out a book to get my hands on, and she recommended this title to me.
Adichie instantly swept me into a world that is starkly different from, yet surprisingly similar to, my own. The excessive religion and fear of god was something I was raised with myself, so I found myself instantly connecting to Kambili. Indeed, it’s nearly impossible not to connect to her. She is intelligent yet vulnerable. Strong yet terrified. Wise yet naive. She is an ideal main character, because she is so essentially human yet impossible not to root for.
Kambili’s father is an abuser; there is zero doubt about that, yet the perspective of the abused is so eloquently depicted by Adichie. Kambili truly loves her father. She is afraid of him and hurt by him, yet she knows there are good things too. She wants nothing more than to please him. She lives for his kind words. Indeed, even the reader sees that there are good aspects to Eugene in spite of the fact that he’s a horrible abuser. He routinely donates money to the needy in Nigeria, for instance. This is what makes it so powerful and realistic. Abusers aren’t monsters from a fairy tale. They are deeply flawed people who hurt those closest to them.
In contrast to Eugene is Aunty Ifeoma. Aunty Ifeoma is the kind of woman that I believe most modern, strong, educated women want to be. She tries so damn hard to help her kids be strong, to be a good mom, to help save her sister-in-law and niece and nephew from an abusive situation. She tries hard at everything, yet sometimes the civil unrest at the university and the constant struggle to feed her family gets to her, and she snaps a bit. Aunty Ifeoma is the perfect comparison to Eugene. She sometimes snaps at her kids a bit when she’s tired or frustrated from the extreme situations going on around her Nigeria, but she never harms them. Since stress is one of the excuses many abusers use, it is excellent to see this comparison within the story.
Adichie eloquently describes Nigeria as well. I’ve never been to any part of Africa, but I felt myself swept into the hot, dry air. I could almost smell the food they ate and the cashews and oranges on the ground outside. Although Adichie shows the political unrest and civil strife, she also clearly displays the beauty of Nigeria, which is something I’ve never encountered before.
With all this beauty and realism, then, I must say I was a bit thrown by the ending. It almost felt as if it was from a different story. Whereas most of the book was reserved and eloquent in its simple depictions, the ending felt larger than life. I think I was hoping for something more from the ending. Some type of realistic understanding of a tough situation instead of a….deus ex machina style ending.
That said, I am incredibly glad I read this book. I’m glad Amy helped me broaden my horizons to reading from a style of lit outside of my normal comfort zone. This book is incredibly accessible, and I highly recommend it to anyone who is a fan of contemporary, literary stories.
4 out of 5 stars
Source: Public Library
Buy It (See all Literary Books)