Things Fall Apart

Told in third person, mostly following a wealthy and fearless Igbo warrior, Okonkwo, Things Fall Apart describes life in a pre-colonial village in Nigeria up until the early days of European colonization.

The later part of my childhood I grew up in the church. I would say probably between 7 years old to 15/16 years old, when I stopped going. But I remember the stories of missionaries going all over the world to save the souls of those who were lost and "know no better". Now that I'm older and haven't been to church in a long time, I'm slowly reading about the other side of all of that. This novel challenges the narrative about "savages" and how the White Christian Saviors needed to "civilize" ("westernize") them.

“The white man is very show more clever. He came quietly and peaceably with his religion. We were amused at his foolishness and allowed him to stay. Now he has won our brothers, and our clan can no longer act like one. He has put a knife on things that held us together and we have fallen apart.” Obierika to Okonkwo.

Even though it's told through the life of Okonkwo as he, his village, and the villages around him experience the change, this novel doesn't side with the colonized or the colonizers. It still gives both the good and the bad of both systems. There's even a part in the book where the leaders of the Igbo people tell the teachers of the white church that they have nothing against them - they don't agree with all of their practices, and they know the church doesn't agree with theirs. But they (the Igbo people) are fine with leaving them alone as long as they too are left alone. The book neither condemns nor praises the worldview of either.

This novel really gave me things to think about. I know a lot of history taught in schools is white washed, made to look like the white man is the savior to all, and that's why I'm glad books like this exist so I can read and learn about the other side of things. show less

Okonkwo is well-known in the nine villages making up Umuofia, a locality populated by the Igbo people in what is now Nigeria. Famous initially for his prowess in wrestling, and then more and more for his farming success and prosperity attained despite his lowly beginnings. Okonkwo's father was a gentle and musical man, but also a lazy one who was content to borrow from his friends rather than work hard himself, and Okonkwo has grown up to despise everything that his father stood for. His hard work and determination mean that he is well on the way to achieving his ambitions to become a great man within his clan, until a chance accident puts all at risk...

This is very much a book of two halves. The first paints a detailed and fascinating show more picture of the life lived in Nigeria before its colonisation by the British. The second half provides the rationale for the 'things fall apart' of the title, as the introduction of Christianity and the British administration and legal system sounds the death knell for the traditional Igbo society.

Achebe paints a balanced and non-judgmental picture of the history of his country, and in Okonkwo he has a protagonist who, despite being difficult to like, has integrity in the context of his time and culture. This was one of the first books to attempt to portray the point of view of the colonised Africans rather than the colonising Europeans, and the difference in viewpoints is summed up in one of the most powerful closing paragraph that I have read. show less

One of the chief functions of a good novelist is to challenge the way that the reader sees the world, a task that can be accomplished either subtly or dramatically. In Things Fall Apart, Achebe manages to confront his audience both ways. Told from the perspective of the Ibo tribesmen in Nigeria, the story revolves around the complex structures that define a society and how the imposition of an outside belief system can destroy that culture.

To Achebe’s great credit, the assignment of labels such as 'good' and 'bad' are not nearly as black and white as the characters that populate the book. It is at once a heart-breaking and thought-provoking work, particularly for anyone who thinks that Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness is the show more definitive statement on the personal and societal impacts of colonialism. show less

I’m not sure ‘enjoyed’ is the correct word, but I was very invested in this 60-year-old story of pre-colonial Africa and what happened when Europeans began to arrive on the scene. While it’s hard to like Okonkwo and some of the elements of Igbo culture as depicted here, it’s impossible not to feel heartbroken as the arrival of white missionaries begins to destroy a culture and way of life. Achebe’s writing is masterful.

1959 novel set in an Igbo (or, as it's rendered here, Ibo) village, both before and after the coming of Christian missionaries and colonial rulers. I found it an interesting and rewarding glimpse into a culture largely unfamiliar to me, as it brings this place and its people and its customs to vivid, and very human, life. I'm sort of struck by how, despite the differences in time, place and culture, the main character, Okonkwo feels so recognizable to me as a particular, familiar type of man. One who, in modern American culture, we might describe as "poisoned by toxic masculinity." Despite which, one feels real sympathy for him, and the ending of his story is incredibly poignant on any number of levels. Achebe doesn't shrink from show more depicting Okonkwo's violent nature or the way the customs of his people can be terribly cruel, but he also makes your heart ache at what is coming for them. And Okonkwo sees what is coming for them. show less

Dissatisfied with Western novels about Africa, Chinua Achebe sought to present Africa as an African. I found the immersion into the tribal culture of his protagonist, Okonkwo, totally absorbing.

Fully the first three-quarters of the book essentially depict the day-to-day events of village life. Through them, Okonkwo enjoys his successes and suffers his tragedies, and through them all proves to be a proud man unyielding in his values.

It's not until the later chapters that the white man appears bringing his customs and religion and conflict is heightened. That opening 3/4 of the book is critical, however, for the reader to know what is at stake in the confrontation.

I found Achebe to be remarkably fair in his depiction of the Westerners. He show more seems to have no argument with the content of the new religion (Christianity) and principles of government (English law) that are introduced, but rather with the ham-handed--and sometimes violent--manner in which they were imposed. Those of Okonkwo's village themselves show an amazing tolerance for the belief-systems of the newcomers, possessing a pretty libertarian attitude: "We say he is foolish because he does not know our ways, and perhaps he says we are foolish because we do not know his."

But as we know from the history of Africa, things do not end well. For all that the Okonkwo's people had and were, things fall apart.

And after we see it happen in Achebe's telling, his final paragraph becomes an absolute gut-wrencher. show less

Okonkwo’s father was not industrious, or manly, or wise, or wealthy. He was everything that Okonkwo swore that he would not be. And he wasn’t. From a very early age he established himself as a great wrestler, warrior, farmer of yams, and keeper of the traditions of his clan. Admittedly he was hard on his wives and his children. But no harder than he was with himself. His pride was easily offended and he feared even the hint of his father’s fecklessness. For a time his rise is unstoppable. But events, or his actions, or fate, or his chi conspire against him and he finds himself falling in the eyes of others and more importantly in his own eyes. Worse, the world in which he found his worth is itself changing out of all recognition show more with the appearance of white men and the white man's god.

This is a deceptively simple story, subtly told and curiously worked. Story threads recur in successive chapters, sometimes in successive paragraphs, but altered. It’s as though narrative itself is unstable in Okonkwo’s world. And ultimately the point of view shifts at the very end to the white district commissioner contemplating writing his memoir of his time in Africa in which, he muses, Okonkwo may merit part of one paragraph. Or he may simply be a detail that will need to be cut out.

Such narrative sophistication presented as a simple folk history of an unlucky man is what warrants the continued praise that this novel receives. I’m very glad that I finally took the opportunity to read it.

Highly recommended. show less