Americanah. I just finished reading the book and can’t resist the urge to honor my newfound tradition of writing a little something about my impressions. By no means should it be considered a review, it’s more of a note to self. I’m writing this in an attempt to organize my own thoughts but also half-hoping that it would inspire some of you to read the book too.
I don’t really know where to begin. This book is a journey. The journey that spans nearly two decades and three continents. I have long thought about what makes a great novel and I believe that it’s all about the world that the author creates. The worlds Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie creates are amazing. They magnetize you with their vastness and their seamless credibility. What really drives the universe of her novels are humans and their stories, their experiences full of details and alluring traction. Reading her books you don’t feel overwhelmed or crushed by formidable waves of the author’s imagination, you simply fall into their gentle yet very powerful charms before you even realize that.
The miracles of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s literary style lie not only in the way she puts the words together but in the very contents of these words, the ideas and concepts, their relevance and import. Reading Americanah was like mining a seemingly endless lode of observations, perspectives and contemplations on many things that make up the fabric of our society. It deals with love, aspirations, immigrant experience, race, depression, intercultural interactions and a lot more. Some of these things I could instantly relate to, others were beyond the possible reach of my personal experiences. Yet all of them are things that can’t leave you indifferent or unmoved. And it’s also interesting how the more I learn about Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s life, the more I realize that her books invariably bear traces of her own story, which makes them a great deal more appealing to me.
Half of a Yellow Sun, now Americanah – what I also really enjoy about her books is a certain enlightenment they bring, and how carefully they introduce into your mind a longing to learn more about the subjects they deal with. Americanah certainly isn’t a treatise on the recent Nigerian history nor a guide to modern American and Nigerian lifestyles, but it opens up a conversation, clears the room into your heart for a desire to get a closer look at the realities of the world you may have not otherwise considered. While the American side of it has always been a part of my life in a way, Nigeria is new to me, I don’t yet know much about its history, its culture, its people. But reading these books has certainly broadened my horizons and made me want to know more and experience more of what this country has to offer.
Speaking of the things I could personally relate to, the young Obinze’s aspirations of going to America really resonated with me. It also reminded me of what I call ‘growing up in a cultural bubble’, something I experienced myself and find to be a very curious journey that was definitely worth it.
Another thing that attracts me in Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s books is her leading female characters. They remind me of her own words, ‘The type of man who will be intimidated by me is exactly the type of man I have no interest in.’ The women in her stories are free. Free of the things that our society is trying to impose onto them, free of the constraints that have been so meticulously constructed throughout our history to hold women back. I find this very appealing on multiple levels, very worthy of respect and admiration. I wish to meet a woman like that who will be my partner for life.
Overall, I can say that Americanah evoked a wide gamut of feelings and emotions – the mood of the book changed from being irresistibly funny to making tears well up in my eyes and back again, all the while being very thoughtful and wise. It was also abundant in phrases that I couldn’t resist writing down because I knew I would want to reread and savor them and relish their delicacy again.
Another stray thought before I finish. I only discovered the delight of reading books a few years ago and I hadn’t read much before. I’m not even sure why this used to be uninteresting to me, I guess there were too many reasons which I’m not going to list here, but one thing I know is that now it has become the joy I will never be able to live without again. It fills my cup. This is how I feel about it. I came into the world as a tabula rasa, my cup empty. And now as I collect my experiences, sort them out, think them through and carefully place them next to one another somewhere deep inside of me, my cup is filling. And this is what reading a good book makes me feel. It even makes me want to write. I think that as you fill your cup to the brim, its contents start splashing out, and this is how you begin to write. I’m very far from the brim of course, but with each new portion pouring in, I let a little drop out. This is inspiration and this is exactly why I’m writing all this. Americanah is why I’m writing all this. And this is why I want to conclude this little piece about Americanah with Obinze’s words, you will understand if you read the book, ‘This is like poetry’.
