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A review by mxunsmiley
Dear Senthuran: A Black Spirit Memoir by Akwaeke Emezi
Where to begin? This book fulfilled all of my expectations and more. I have some qualms with it, but nevertheless, it was a great dive into a very unique person and writer.
Emezi's work is some of my favorite of contemporary writers and writers I've read in general. I knew little about them before reading this memoir, mostly because I feel that distance from artists' private lives and thoughts can sometimes save you the agony of reading their work while having a sour taste in your mouth because, after all, artists are human (different in Emezi's case, though), and they may do or say things you disagree with. While that shouldn't dissuade you from enjoying their work--unless they're an outright fascist of course--it can still be difficult.
With Emezi, however, I feel like a lot of their work has come into its proper context. It was really fascinating to read the backstory behind their debut and even my favorite work of theirs, Pet, which apparently was written in 2 months (2 fucking months!) and out of necessity, not inspiration.
Some concepts I felt really resonated with me were their thoughts on authenticity and duality, the validity of which may be futile to consider. Their letter about masks made me reconsider just how true it is that they're commonly seen to be things of deception, rather than different facets of the self. The theme of duality is also a big undercurrent of the work, with how Emezi grapples with being an ogbanje while also desiring so much of the human world and believing they deserve it in all its entirety. I thought it was confusing at first, because how can you assert that you are dead and longing to return to the world you belong to while also maintaining that you are so hungry for life? Then I brought it into perspective--how perhaps those two truths, their duality, don't have to contradict one another.
One topic I really want to become a wide and open discussion is what they offered about diversity and representation. They don't call out either outright but they do make a remark on whether that is what we should settle for in fiction--"wanting to be seen," which is often what is given to be the reason for diversity and representation. One of their letters addresses this, how it was a struggle to find a publisher for their debut, Freshwater, because it didn't rely on such a thing, this reliance on an African identity and the journey to overcome the barriers which accompany it. We also have the problem of thoughtless representation, because if all one wants it to be seen, what does it matter if it's shallow? Yet Emezi maintains that we must try to break genres, subvert expectations, even challenge the greats of canon who are considered to be untouchable (often white men). That is what fiction should be, and it must be an option for nonwhite writers as well, they shouldn't have to be tied down to the checklist of "diversity."
One thing that bothered me so much was how they repeatedly said they were a god, in those words exactly, or made reference to it in a way that made me think "Oh, here they go again." I don't mind the references to this, I just would've preferred it to be in a way that was less direct.
Emezi calls themself arrogant, and while I wouldn't use a term with such negative connotations, they are indeed very proud, in a world where they are expected to be subservient and humble. It's then certainly a marvel that they expose themself so readily in this memoir. At the same time, they really don't come across as fragile. They do make questionable decisions, but I think it goes back to what they say about Toni Morrison's work, how she doesn't tell you how to feel about the actions of their characters--just presents them. I am still a bit puzzled as to what Emezi wanted to accomplish with this memoir; I probably need to think about it more. I'm not saying it was a mistake, or worthless, because I definitely would recommend this to both readers of their work and those who want to be challenged by a perspective which would very readily be seen as superstitious and outlandish, to challenge their own notions of what it means to "be" in this world. I just feel very confused as to the intent, but I ultimately don't think it matters when I say I am very happy to have read it and learned more about Emezi and their work.
Emezi's work is some of my favorite of contemporary writers and writers I've read in general. I knew little about them before reading this memoir, mostly because I feel that distance from artists' private lives and thoughts can sometimes save you the agony of reading their work while having a sour taste in your mouth because, after all, artists are human (different in Emezi's case, though), and they may do or say things you disagree with. While that shouldn't dissuade you from enjoying their work--unless they're an outright fascist of course--it can still be difficult.
With Emezi, however, I feel like a lot of their work has come into its proper context. It was really fascinating to read the backstory behind their debut and even my favorite work of theirs, Pet, which apparently was written in 2 months (2 fucking months!) and out of necessity, not inspiration.
Some concepts I felt really resonated with me were their thoughts on authenticity and duality, the validity of which may be futile to consider. Their letter about masks made me reconsider just how true it is that they're commonly seen to be things of deception, rather than different facets of the self. The theme of duality is also a big undercurrent of the work, with how Emezi grapples with being an ogbanje while also desiring so much of the human world and believing they deserve it in all its entirety. I thought it was confusing at first, because how can you assert that you are dead and longing to return to the world you belong to while also maintaining that you are so hungry for life? Then I brought it into perspective--how perhaps those two truths, their duality, don't have to contradict one another.
One topic I really want to become a wide and open discussion is what they offered about diversity and representation. They don't call out either outright but they do make a remark on whether that is what we should settle for in fiction--"wanting to be seen," which is often what is given to be the reason for diversity and representation. One of their letters addresses this, how it was a struggle to find a publisher for their debut, Freshwater, because it didn't rely on such a thing, this reliance on an African identity and the journey to overcome the barriers which accompany it. We also have the problem of thoughtless representation, because if all one wants it to be seen, what does it matter if it's shallow? Yet Emezi maintains that we must try to break genres, subvert expectations, even challenge the greats of canon who are considered to be untouchable (often white men). That is what fiction should be, and it must be an option for nonwhite writers as well, they shouldn't have to be tied down to the checklist of "diversity."
One thing that bothered me so much was how they repeatedly said they were a god, in those words exactly, or made reference to it in a way that made me think "Oh, here they go again." I don't mind the references to this, I just would've preferred it to be in a way that was less direct.
Emezi calls themself arrogant, and while I wouldn't use a term with such negative connotations, they are indeed very proud, in a world where they are expected to be subservient and humble. It's then certainly a marvel that they expose themself so readily in this memoir. At the same time, they really don't come across as fragile. They do make questionable decisions, but I think it goes back to what they say about Toni Morrison's work, how she doesn't tell you how to feel about the actions of their characters--just presents them. I am still a bit puzzled as to what Emezi wanted to accomplish with this memoir; I probably need to think about it more. I'm not saying it was a mistake, or worthless, because I definitely would recommend this to both readers of their work and those who want to be challenged by a perspective which would very readily be seen as superstitious and outlandish, to challenge their own notions of what it means to "be" in this world. I just feel very confused as to the intent, but I ultimately don't think it matters when I say I am very happy to have read it and learned more about Emezi and their work.