Officially known as one of the most influential Post-colonial
works of the 20th century.
Not that I knew. I only found out a week after finishing the entire book.
To be perfectly honest, these titles that get attached to books
can really skew your opinion. "Best" or "most influential"
or "historically significant," what is it about these that
automatically guarantee a book merit?
“It's the book all Post-colonial professors must teach in their lectures.”
“It's the book that started it all!”
“It's the book everyone knows and loves (well, I don't know about
this part).”
When I read the book without knowing its celebrity status in the
literary world, I found much to be happy about and much to disapprove. But
after I discovered that this paperback actual sold in the millions, the
unpleasant parts actually faded a bit from my memory. I stopped caring as much
about them. Those weird or faulty bits? The author must have had some deep,
philosophical, literary reason for having them.
Huh. Conditioned reaction,
I suppose. One can't help but find themselves bought in by renown.
But despite all this, I did do my best to shelve my bias onto a
faraway bookshelf while I took a more critical look at Achebe’s work.
The book is what modern people would call a
book "worth reading." It has all the elements that make it a time
well spent, a project worth completing. There lives the main character: NOT a cliché,
well-rounded Mr. Nice White Guy who swoops in to save the damsel at the end of
the day. There is the village: NOT a quaint, rustic country town surrounded by
hills in an area of England nobody has ever heard of. In an era where cliché,
"normal" stories are ripped to shreds by critiques and readers alike,
I'm positive this is one book that won't fall into that banal category of
literature. In a word, it isn't canon (AKA it's an English book not written by
a middle-aged white guy)—a trend that's been settling into our literary world
for quite some time
I really appreciated that, I did. If only the author's language
had been a bit more . . . rich. Sentences are short and choppy, descriptive
adjectives appear once in a blue moon. I couldn't tell if it was written in
such an abrupt voice because the author wasn't familiar with the English
language, or if he was trying to convince me that he wasn’t familiar with the
English language. In either case, it interrupted my flow of the reading quite a
few times, because the appearance of a period for the 20th time in the same
page tends to throw me a bit. At least throw in some more semi-colons for
variety, please.
Also, Achebe uses a great deal of indigenous vocabulary to
describe the setting, which, while it does convey a sense of locality and
unique flavor, tended to confuse me after a while. Sure, the author does a fine
job of weaving in the definitions of the terms he sprinkles into the story
(like agbala, ogene,
agadi-nwayi, obi, etc.). But
a more in-depth explanation of the meaning behind these terms, and their
significance to that particular culture, are lost.
I admit, that sort of cultural depth is hard to come by in a
fictional novel, but a reader can always hope.
Still, the story deserves merit for its ambiguous,
thought-provoking ending that questions the definition of right or wrong,
challenges socially accepted perceptions and notions, criticizes the paradigms
that shape this world and its inhabitants...all that jazz. The lessons to be
learned from this book seem boundless. It points out the folly of stubbornness
in one's own beliefs; as both Okonkwo and the Christian missionaries that
settle in his village clash over their contrasting ideals, we get a picture of
a bunch of men refusing to understand each other. The author does a pretty good
job of portraying the flaws of both parties relatively equally. He could easily
have made out the African tribe as the poor, innocent victims who got exploited
by white explorers. Instead, he says they're both at fault.
Okonkwo, for being stubborn and violent.
Everyone else, also for being stubborn and forceful.
I hesitate to say that the book is 100% accurate in its
portrayals, not to mention it might be just a liiiiiittle biased coming from an oppressed
people's representative author, but the questions and discussions that can be
pulled from this book's pages are worth pondering. Yes, the characterization of
the white settlers and missionaries definitely carries bitter undertones. Most
of them come off as aggressive, condescending, and unwilling to listen to the
voice of the people. We don't know if this sort of behavior was common among
white settlers in Africa during colonization, but we do know that most explorer
and missionary publications at that time did not portray these figures in such a
rude and violent light. We're all familiar with the age-old European belief:
they are the light of the world meant to save the ignorant savages from their
own sins...yeah. Achebe really takes a stab at this misconception in his book
by showing just how vulgar this attitude would have seemed to the natives. It's
pretty refreshing to read.
But regardless of the emotional responses this book might elicit,
it must be given credit for its ability to leave the reader feeling not quite
satisfied.
It's not that I don't feel satisfied with the book itself. Rather,
I am left feeling unsatisfied with the world I live in.
The book holds up a mirror in front of you, shows an ugly side of
human nature that cannot be erased, cannot be ignored, and cannot be blamed on
anyone except ourselves. It makes you aware of all the imperfections around you.
That's not something you want to be reminded of at the end of the day. But it's
also necessary. Achebe brings that necessary probe to the surgeon's table, one
more tool in the hands of a reader to help him better understand humans, their
world, their minds. It may not be a solution, but then again, we'll probably
never find one.
The protagonist Okonkwo's supposed solution certainly doesn't
work, but neither do the remaining people achieve a happy ending.
It's not about the happy ending or the solution that satisfies
everybody. This book isn't nearly close to that stage of the process yet. We're
at the foothold of the first step, where understanding the "other"
becomes each reader's entryway into a place where a solution might become
introduced.
