Read: 17 March, 2018
I enjoyed this quite a bit more than We Should All Be Feminists. Perhaps because the context is more personal, so it justifies the more personal tone. As with We Should All Be Feminists, this isn’t about building a case or proving a point or trying together statistics to form a broader picture. But unlike We Should All Be Feminists, this book is explicitly preaching to the choir.
That was the problem with the other book – its function would be to convince readers to care. But without a well-crafted argument, without proof that there is a problem in the first place, it falls short. Here, however, Adichie is addressing herself to a friend who has just had a baby and who wants to know how to apply her already-existing feminism to her parenting. She’s already on board with the ideals, but she wants practical advice (and, perhaps, a little cheerleading).
The advice itself is more of the high concept variety. This isn’t, after all, a parenting book with sample scripts. But it serves well as a reminder of all the sneaky little cultural baggage that we bring into our parenting without even realising it.
Read: 20 February, 2018
At 48 pages, this is a very short book – really more of an essay. Because of the vast discrepancy between the size of the topic and the size of the book, this is obviously going to be a very superficial treatment. Even so, the essay is very conversational, and skips from topic to topic without much focus. Ultimately, it doesn’t really answer the title question, so much as simply mull over ways in which sexism have affected the author.
To the extent that Adichie makes statements of position, I often found myself disagreeing with her. Mostly, it has to do with the gender binary, which she clearly accepts even as she doesn’t think it should should be prescriptive.
I did enjoy the particular African perspective of the book – when I read about feminism, it’s almost always from a North American context. In particular, there are a few parts in the book where she talks specifically about African (and Nigerian) culture.
Apart from the cultural perspective, Adichie doesn’t bring much new to the table. This is a casual, personal book, without much history or facts. But it is worth reading, given the short length.
Read: 30 May, 2017
I read this second due to the strange publishing choice to put Drinkard and My Life in the Bush of Ghosts in reverse order.
For the first half of the story, I liked Drinkard quite a bit more than My Life. The story was certainly more lighthearted (a lush encounters the supernatural while on a quest to find a palm-win tapster who could work fast enough to keep up with his alcoholic appetite vs a little boy gets lost in the supernatural world while trying to escape inter-tribal violence), and generally reads more like a trickster story. The titular drinkard gets into scrapes, then performs some feat of cleverness to get himself back out again, all the while behaving rather amorally.
But then Drinkard becomes a lot more like My Life, where the character seems to bumble through a parade of supernatural experiences, each time suffering “punishments”, before being saved or escaping by luck. Which is totally fine, but 300 pages of “and then there was a ghost with a thousand mouths! And then a ghost that was all red! And then a ghost that was all smelly!” is a little bit much. Especially without a cultural lens for understanding these different creatures.
Overall, I enjoyed both stories. I found them to be interesting and imaginative, and I really enjoyed the very oral writing style (though it was a bit of a challenge to follow at times). I only wish that I’d given myself a little more downtime between the two stories.
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Read: 23 May, 2017
For some reason, my copy of the book includes both My Life in the Bush of Ghosts and The Palm-Wine Drinkard, but in the wrong order. I didn’t realize that I was reading the second book first until I had already finished it.
I don’t think it matters too much, except that there are a few “wink at the camera” mentions of a Palm-Wine Drinkard that I assume I’ll get once I read the first book.
The story follows a young boy who, escaping from some inter-tribal warfare, finds himself in the Bush of Ghosts. There, he wanders around for twenty years among the ghosts, suffering various trials and tribulations, until he finally finds his way home.
The writing style is a bit of a challenge – it’s written in a very “oral” style, complete with some colloquial grammar. It meant that I had to slow down my reading, letting the voice in my head narrate, or I would get lost.
The narrative is very loose and episodic. Just as the main character visits numbered towns in no particular order, so his adventures themselves could have been arranged in just about any order.
I found the story very interesting. It isn’t character driven, by any means, as the main character only really serves as a vehicle to explore the Bush. But the ghosts he meets are imaginative and interesting, and it was always fun to see how he would get himself out of the various “punishment” situations.
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