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A review by mariel_thecrownedgoddessreads
Half of a Yellow Sun / Americanah / Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
4.0
It’s been a long time since I felt the need to write a lengthy review. Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah has done it for me. The amount of love this book gets is outstanding, it makes me feel kind of guilty just liking it. Nevertheless, there are some things I need to say.
The first 100 pages were really good; I could perceive some interesting topics arising and the promise of further exploration. Sadly, the rest 400 and so could have been summarized in 200-250 solid pages which had –probably- made it less vague. I’m not sure ‘vague’ is the word, but it felt like the author didn’t focus in the things that mattered the most like Ifemelu’s job at Princeton, her blog, her insecurities and of course how it all relate to race, identity and immigration.
I just didn’t found Ifemelu entirely likable. She’s –as her group of friends- a middle-class, well educated Nigerian who’s reason to migrate to the United States was the constant strikes affecting education in her country. While there’s nothing wrong with that, I myself went to study abroad for the chance of a better education and then returned to my country, I felt her background gave her a high horse to ride and she was kind of judgmental and biased in her opinions.
I cringed every time she said ‘America’ meaning The United States, when it encompasses the entire continent with a myriad of different countries and cultures. The United States is not the reference for the entire continent. I know it’s not meant to be like that, she even clarified it at some point. Regardless, it frustrated me because things she experienced or learned about in The United States aren’t relatable to my country. I’m not being blind or idealist, they just don’t happen at such level.
Some things baffled me:
“It didn’t matter to him how much money I had. As far as he was concerned I did not fit as the owner of that stately house because of the way I looked. In America’s public discourse, ‘Blacks’ as a whole are often lumped with ‘Poor Whites’. Not Poor Blacks and Poor Whites. But Blacks and Poor Whites. A curious thing indeed.”
But before that there was a scene when she went shopping and they didn’t know who help her and the cashier couldn’t gather the will to say ‘Was it the black girl or the white girl?’ as Ifemelu put it
“Why didn’t she just ask ‘Was it the black girl or the white girl? And her friend replied: “Because this is America. You’re supposed to pretend that you don’t notice certain things?”
Well, I guess in ‘America’ you can choose when to notice. Is not that race shouldn’t be an issue, it already is. But we walk around the topic as if we will break this delicate glass keeping us elevated above all ‘those racist people’, that’s not how it works. This moral separation is what keeping us from facing the reality.
One thing that really irked me was when Ifemelu wrote:
“Racism should never have happened and so you don’t get a cookie for reducing it.”
Let me tell you something, a lot of things shouldn’t have happened but they did. In a macro view, Civil Wars, Genocides, Slavery…shouldn’t we acknowledge that? Shouldn’t we try to learn, to be better? No, I don’t want a pat in the back saying I’m doing things right. I want to freely and unashamedly learn from past mistakes, I want to do better by those who were wronged and I want to be able to feel good about it and not with my head bowing down in shame.
I feel myself adrift. Let’s talk about how this book is definitely not a love story, why would anyone pretend otherwise? Ifemelu’s relationships were all about her, not commitment at all.
First, we have Obinze, the great love of her life and a character’s story of undeveloped potential. After he went back to Nigeria I lost interest, maybe this was the point, after all he himself felt uncompleted regardless of how his life has turned out. Their relationship, albeit perfect for an outsider, was more tipped to her side.
Then there was Curt, to us who love Gilmore Girls as normal people do, this was her Logan. That’s all. To the rest, she low key resented him because he was rich and she felt entitled to judge him as a boy with not a deep thought in his head. She loved him at some point, but it really pissed me off whenshe used the same excuse she gave to Obinze when she cheated on him: “I was curious”.
Then there was Blaine, he was a handful sometimes and I didn’t see a lasting relationship there but they tried. It was always a kind of silent defiant about her. A relationship needs to find a balance.
By this point, I had a strong awful feeling about what her future will look like and I was hoping to get it wrong but, alas, it couldn’t be. Ifemelu again did what Ifemelu does. I know we have to do things good for us, the eternal search for happiness and all that, however couldn’t she just have a little internal conflict (like we all do from time to time).
The things that I most appreciated about this book:
When she asks why other people (or country) should dictate what’s offensive to me or how much offended should I feel.
When she explains ‘white privilege’. It used to think what ‘privileges’ do I have? I don’t come from money. That’s not what it is.
“So this guy said to Professor Hunk, ‘White privilege is nonsense. How can I be privileged? I grew up fucking poor in West Virginia. I’m an Appalachian hick. My family is on welfare. Right. But privilege is always relative to something else. Now imagine someone like him, as poor and as fucked up, and then make that person black. If both area caught for drug possession, say, the white guy is more likely to be sent to treatment and the black guy is more likely to be sent to jail (…) The Appalachian hick guy is fucked up, which is not cool, but if he were black, he’d be fucked up plus”.
When she asks, is race an invention or no?
“They tell us race is an invention (…) then they tell us black people have worse kind of breast cancer and get more fibroids. And white folk gets cystic fibrosis and osteoporosis. (…) Is race an invention or not?".
It makes me think, race is must definitely not an invention but we have corrupted it. If there’s a specific treatment for an illness that affects more black people than white, for God’s sake use it.
I could keep going but this review is already too long, maybe is a better book than I thought if it makes me think all these things. I even wrote on it! (with a pencil, let’s not get crazy here). Maybe is not.
I would have loved to know more about aunt Uju.
The first 100 pages were really good; I could perceive some interesting topics arising and the promise of further exploration. Sadly, the rest 400 and so could have been summarized in 200-250 solid pages which had –probably- made it less vague. I’m not sure ‘vague’ is the word, but it felt like the author didn’t focus in the things that mattered the most like Ifemelu’s job at Princeton, her blog, her insecurities and of course how it all relate to race, identity and immigration.
I just didn’t found Ifemelu entirely likable. She’s –as her group of friends- a middle-class, well educated Nigerian who’s reason to migrate to the United States was the constant strikes affecting education in her country. While there’s nothing wrong with that, I myself went to study abroad for the chance of a better education and then returned to my country, I felt her background gave her a high horse to ride and she was kind of judgmental and biased in her opinions.
I cringed every time she said ‘America’ meaning The United States, when it encompasses the entire continent with a myriad of different countries and cultures. The United States is not the reference for the entire continent. I know it’s not meant to be like that, she even clarified it at some point. Regardless, it frustrated me because things she experienced or learned about in The United States aren’t relatable to my country. I’m not being blind or idealist, they just don’t happen at such level.
Some things baffled me:
“It didn’t matter to him how much money I had. As far as he was concerned I did not fit as the owner of that stately house because of the way I looked. In America’s public discourse, ‘Blacks’ as a whole are often lumped with ‘Poor Whites’. Not Poor Blacks and Poor Whites. But Blacks and Poor Whites. A curious thing indeed.”
But before that there was a scene when she went shopping and they didn’t know who help her and the cashier couldn’t gather the will to say ‘Was it the black girl or the white girl?’ as Ifemelu put it
“Why didn’t she just ask ‘Was it the black girl or the white girl? And her friend replied: “Because this is America. You’re supposed to pretend that you don’t notice certain things?”
Well, I guess in ‘America’ you can choose when to notice. Is not that race shouldn’t be an issue, it already is. But we walk around the topic as if we will break this delicate glass keeping us elevated above all ‘those racist people’, that’s not how it works. This moral separation is what keeping us from facing the reality.
One thing that really irked me was when Ifemelu wrote:
“Racism should never have happened and so you don’t get a cookie for reducing it.”
Let me tell you something, a lot of things shouldn’t have happened but they did. In a macro view, Civil Wars, Genocides, Slavery…shouldn’t we acknowledge that? Shouldn’t we try to learn, to be better? No, I don’t want a pat in the back saying I’m doing things right. I want to freely and unashamedly learn from past mistakes, I want to do better by those who were wronged and I want to be able to feel good about it and not with my head bowing down in shame.
I feel myself adrift. Let’s talk about how this book is definitely not a love story, why would anyone pretend otherwise? Ifemelu’s relationships were all about her, not commitment at all.
First, we have Obinze, the great love of her life and a character’s story of undeveloped potential. After he went back to Nigeria I lost interest, maybe this was the point, after all he himself felt uncompleted regardless of how his life has turned out. Their relationship, albeit perfect for an outsider, was more tipped to her side.
Then there was Curt, to us who love Gilmore Girls as normal people do, this was her Logan. That’s all. To the rest, she low key resented him because he was rich and she felt entitled to judge him as a boy with not a deep thought in his head. She loved him at some point, but it really pissed me off when
Then there was Blaine, he was a handful sometimes and I didn’t see a lasting relationship there but they tried. It was always a kind of silent defiant about her. A relationship needs to find a balance.
By this point, I had a strong awful feeling about what her future will look like and I was hoping to get it wrong but, alas, it couldn’t be. Ifemelu again did what Ifemelu does. I know we have to do things good for us, the eternal search for happiness and all that, however couldn’t she just have a little internal conflict (like we all do from time to time).
The things that I most appreciated about this book:
When she asks why other people (or country) should dictate what’s offensive to me or how much offended should I feel.
When she explains ‘white privilege’. It used to think what ‘privileges’ do I have? I don’t come from money. That’s not what it is.
“So this guy said to Professor Hunk, ‘White privilege is nonsense. How can I be privileged? I grew up fucking poor in West Virginia. I’m an Appalachian hick. My family is on welfare. Right. But privilege is always relative to something else. Now imagine someone like him, as poor and as fucked up, and then make that person black. If both area caught for drug possession, say, the white guy is more likely to be sent to treatment and the black guy is more likely to be sent to jail (…) The Appalachian hick guy is fucked up, which is not cool, but if he were black, he’d be fucked up plus”.
When she asks, is race an invention or no?
“They tell us race is an invention (…) then they tell us black people have worse kind of breast cancer and get more fibroids. And white folk gets cystic fibrosis and osteoporosis. (…) Is race an invention or not?".
It makes me think, race is must definitely not an invention but we have corrupted it. If there’s a specific treatment for an illness that affects more black people than white, for God’s sake use it.
I could keep going but this review is already too long, maybe is a better book than I thought if it makes me think all these things. I even wrote on it! (with a pencil, let’s not get crazy here). Maybe is not.
I would have loved to know more about aunt Uju.