Race and relationships

Week 5: Americanah – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Recommended by: Hannah Fox

This book shouldn’t really have been on the list. It’s so far the only book in almost six years of bookclubbing that I’ve not read when I was supposed to, regardless of whether I could attend or not. Equally, having really liked all of Adichie’s existing work, it was something I always expected to get round to reading anyway.

And it’s fair to say that I enjoyed Americanah too. Adichie is clearly an excellent writer, and definitely one with something to say, and that was certainly the case here. The focus is strongly on race, particularly in America, less so in Britain, and essentially how it wasn’t even a concept in Nigeria. I’m happy enough to take her word for the latter part, though it’s hardly a homogeneous society given the civil war and genocide of the not-too-distant past, which the author has written about previously.

The focus on race at times veers towards the polemical, yet it’s hard to doubt the truth of what’s written because it’s so well observed, there are so many small, damning details that ring true, and that’s what creates the whole. There’s no doubt that race remains a problem in an increasingly globalised world, though it’s a complex one in the sense that so many individuals and groups have different ideas about what should (and can) be done and there are no easy solutions – nobody can click their heels together three times and chant ‘Don’t be racist’ and make everything better. “You can’t write an honest novel about race in [America]. If you write about how people are really affected by race, it’ll be too obvious,” opines one of the characters. Adichie must have had her tongue in her cheek at this point because that’s exactly what she has done and in terms of consciousness-raising she’s done that in no uncertain terms.

It’s also nice to see such a well-rounded female character as Ifemelu and it’s hard not to be sucked in by her story of being overwhelmed by America, through her struggles with assimilation, to come out as a strong personality on her own terms. It’s also fascinating to see her coming home to Nigeria to realise that she has been changed by her American experiences, not all for the worse, and that her home country has changed a lot in her absence and she sees it in a different light.

On the other hand, Obinze seemed far less complete a character. He was a little too perfect, albeit we’re often only seeing him through Ifemelu’s rose-tinted eyes. This, perhaps combined with the lack of otherness (to me), meant the sections in Britain were the least interesting. However, it was good to get a realistic account of immigrant life, both good and bad, without stirring up a tabloid frenzy and pouring more fuel on the UKIP fire.

Their relationship, developing throughout the novel, sometimes in the past, other times looking back, was as complex as all real relationships are and certainly seems to live up to the idea that you never forget your first love. A love story through a multicultural lens spanning three countries, a number of years, and with a healthy dose of political opinion piled on top is certainly ambitious and it does the author credit that she succeeds on many levels.