Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Is this a chick lit novel? Or is it a social commentary novel? It is both. This was a book that managed to cross genre lines with aplomb and panache. There is much to think about while reading the book. It raises the specter of how immigrants are treated, and why people choose to immigrate. The book toggles back and forth between the story of Ifemelu an Obinze. Ifemelu in the U. S. and Obinze in the U.K. The immigration experiences are similar but at the same time very different. Then there show more is the race commentary and questions that the author raises for the reader. The magic is that the reader laughs and cries along with the characters while being made to think about some aspects of the culture in the U. S. and in the U.K show less

It’s clear from the opening sentence that Adichie intends for this book to build on Achebe’s Things Fall Apart:

Things started to fall apart at home when my brother, Jaja, did not go to communion and Papa flung his heavy missal across the room and broke the figurines on the etagere.

Adichie explores themes of colonialism and religion (traditional Igbo vs. Catholic Christianity, and European Catholicism vs. liturgical adaptation). These themes root the novel in a particular place and time. show more The coming-of-age and domestic violence themes have a universal appeal. Sadly, no part of the globe in any era has been immune to the kinds of violence that play out in this story.

I was enraptured by the first ten hours of this eleven-hour audiobook. Things fell apart in the last hour, as it seemed Adichie didn’t quite know what she wanted to do with the characters and situations she had so carefully created. show less

This book was not what I expected. It was witty, not laugh out loud funny but consistently amusing. It gave us in Ifemelu an interesting narrator who was smart and engaging, and also a bitch, and a prima donna, and a bully. Many current books/movies/shows about racism create these "all-American" Black characters which helps to highlight the idiocy of prejudice but also perpetuates a White standard for acceptable behavior (all-American is code for White.) This "Blacks! They're Just Like Us" show more approach assuages the guilt of White readers by making it okay to exclude or disapprove of Black people who don't live by that paradigm. Think The Cosby Show. Our protagonist here was multi-dimensional, seriously flawed, but interesting and funny and overall sort of likeable, and the empty "perfect" characters, the stereotypes come to life, were the White characters, Rich White Boyfriend (he is called that in the book) and every member of the family Ifemelu nannys for in undergrad. The book was also educational about Nigeria mostly. It was one of the more challenging books I have read in a good long time, and though flawed, it is a book that expands the reader.

It is as much a polemic on race, and the concept of race, as it is a story. Think Atlas Shrugged. (Not because the sociopolitical beliefs of Ayn Rand and Adichie have anything to do with one another, they don't, but because they both use a love story to draw in the reader and make the social commentary seem completely rational and unassailable.) Though I expect my politics align more with Adichie than with Rand, many of her tenets were flawed, or at very least arguable, and I, the reader, was made to feel stupid and/or racist if I did not accept her propositions as gospel. For one thing, the writer talks all about how there is no racism in Nigeria because most everyone is Black, but at the same time there are deep tribal divisions and a the divide between Igbo and Yoruba is based entirely on prejudices. That is the same thing as racism. We can call it tribalism or racism it is all the same thing. Why does this pass unremarked on? This sort of selectively incisive commentary pissed me off, but that does not change the fact that the discussion alone made me think about my own beliefs and observations in a constructive way, to challenge my assumptions. And if there is anything that Americans need to do it is to think about race without depending on lazy truisms. Many years ago I told a friend that I never looked at things in terms of race. She said;"You are so lucky that you have that option. For us Black folk everything is about race." That was the beginning of a new way of thinking for me, and I thought about that conversation a good deal while reading Americanah.

I mentioned it before, but I want to point out once again that there is a story here, and it is a good one. It is not one long op-ed. I recommend it strongly to all readers. show less

It's A) a love story, B) a coming of age novel, C) a treatise on race in the United States, D) all of the above. If you picked D, you're correct!

Adichie's deconstruction of race in America, as seen through a newcomer's eyes, is potent and compelling. She has a keen eye and a delicate, almost considerate, touch when discussing sensitive (for most white folks) topics like white privilege and ignorance.

In some places her prose is languid and poetic and in others it feels taut and affected. It show more all somehow works, though. Despite the divergent flow of the writing, it feels natural and necessary and intentional.

I liked Ifemelu and Obinze and I rooted for them both. Together and separately, as they were navigating their worlds. I felt for each other as they celebrated triumphs and weathered their personal storms. Although I can't say I ever felt *wholly* invested in them as characters, they were so smart, open, and adventurous that I felt an easy kinship with them that was enough for me to want the best for them.

I'd like to give this five stars but, if I'm honest, Americanah is a bit of a mess. It's a little bit all over the place (timeline, narration, location, genre) but everywhere it ends up is beautiful in its own right. I would happily recommend it. show less