This was an incredible story. I’d like to make a point of that as every other review I’ve read for Chimamanda’s culturally revealing love/life epic seems to plough right in with the social commentary aspects of the book. Though that is of course vital to the story and what gives it such clout when sitting on your bookshelf, none of it would mean a damn if the narrative wasn’t superb. And my word is it superb, not just for me and those like me but for one of the widest ranging audiences I think a book could possibly have.
The fascinating thing about this 'love' story is that for the vast majority of it the two protagonists aren’t in contact with one another. They aren’t even in the same spheres as one another, they come together early then split for the vast majority of the book. One article I read decried this fact as simply a mechanism for Chimamanda to make a whole load of social commentary under the guise of a love story. I don’t think that person read the book.
Love stories are generally a safe bet when it comes to writing, easily relatable, easy to draw on personal experiences for inspiration and very little world building ever required (see my own ongoing attempt here as proof). One of the wonderful things here is that the Author has done exactly these things, yet in a way that avoided the usual clichés. There was no glossy sheen layered on top, no honeyed words or long romantic rambles down beaches. Even the pet names are laughably honest, Ifemelu calls Obinze ‘ceiling’ which isn’t exactly the most sing-songy–snookumsy–wookumsy kind of name, because it is exactly the kind of nickname a real-world lover would have. This is less of a 'love' story as it is a 'life' story. Not one about a life but one about life itself.
I’ll start with Obinze’s side of the tale, shorter and more matter-of-fact (much like Obinze himself) this was a fascinating look into a struggle that I was dimly aware of, yet had never considered as a British person. Post Brexit Britain is one of aggressive anti-immigration articles clashing with aggressive pro-immigration articles and very very rarely do we ever see a human side to either argument. Yes we hear about ‘some poor bastard’ who died in a truck whilst crossing the border from Calais, or about so-many ‘African’ immigrants being caught working on a farm and being shipped back to ‘Africa’. Never do we hear about an individual like Obinze. Educated, intelligent, Anglophilic (albeit ironically leaning towards America than the UK); surely this is the kind of person that positive immigration should be working with and yet we ride along with him in his truck as he has to lie and cheat through a system that has quite frankly failed him and embarrassed us. What is wonderful about all this though is that it’s never shouted at us. Not once is the Author holding the reader to task over the failings here. I think this is for two reasons, firstly because she’s a fucking excellent storyteller so she trusts the reader to infer these things themselves and secondly because for once the target audience isn’t straight white people. It isn’t black Americans either, nor is it Nigerians or frankly any other individual circle on the ‘target audience’ Venn diagram that could have so easily been drawn for this book.
Here I think I’m touching on my favourite aspect and that is that for once, finally, it’s a story that actually genuinely has a target audience that encompasses all of the above. And it does this effortlessly. Of course each person is going to take away different things from the story. A British-Nigerian immigrant reading this is going to look at it in a very different way to a White Suburban mother in upstate New York, yet both will have aspects they can relate to and both will have aspects that are new to them, and neither will be put off. That’s not to say there aren’t challenging portions, of course there are. As a British Person it was hard to read the section on Obinze’s deportation, here is a guy that by just about every metric would be a benefit to any society he is a part of (as he proves with his success upon his return to Lagos) being humiliated because of an outdated system. As a white person the casual racism that Ifemelu receives in her time in America is all too familiar and galling when you realise that even when meaning well the message that comes across is one of 'us and you'. I can’t say what would challenge another reader because I don’t have the experience to see from their side.
Speaking of Ifemelu. We go much further into depth with her story, one which draws vague similarities with the author's own, and as a result the connection to her is certainly deeper. In the current climate it is a relief to hear of her success in America, there are struggles of course, harrowing moments such as her prostitution with the tennis coach that I cannot even begin to wrap my head around. Here we have another beautiful moment of writing though. The coupling of this with Ifem’s rejection of Obinze almost dares you to assign blame to her, when she’s at her lowest the author sets a pitfall for you so that as a reader you risk failing with her. It’s heart-breaking and is a form of social commentary that is so powerful that when you realise what’s happened you can’t help but feel awestruck. This is Chimamanda's storytelling power in this book, she doesn’t tell you to your face how what you’re doing is wrong, she makes you analyse your own failings and reflect on the societal issue at large.
Despite her struggles, Ifem moves from strength to strength, through the comedic cringing of the White suburban life, her relationship with Curt where she views the world of casual money in America and then falling into place with Blaine. It is here where we get the most direct social commentary and yet again the author manages to split it away from directly instructing readers to providing relatable experiences to go with it. The falling out with Blaine is one that rings true across every relationship, a fundamental misunderstanding between two lovers is one that is universal, regardless of subject matter, yet all the while the commentary continues and expands and if you’re not relating to it (namely if you aren’t a Black American) then you’re learning a shit load.
Finally the two are reunited in Lagos, though it takes them a little while, and everything falls into place-ish. Here again though we are confronted with some fascinating circumstances, universal issues told with local spins – the issue of returning home and not quite fitting in anymore, the issue of forbidden love, of trauma and facing the past. At the risk of gushing a little I think that Chimamanda has knocked it out of the park with this ending, the very human conclusion to a story that is both personal and socially active.
All this gushing isn’t to say that there weren’t issues with the story, I felt Obinze’s experiences in the UK were a little light, less explored than they could have been, but then as I mentioned before of course I felt that, I am British and therefore I was relating to that far more than Ifem’s American experiences. Further I thought that Ifem’s relationship with her parents wasn’t given enough gravitas or investigated enough as they were a clear factor in how she behaved and the ways in which she grew throughout the book. There are other small problems for me, but then of course there are. This wasn't a book for me, it was a book for everyone and different aspects of it appealed in different ways and so quite frankly they are irrelevant. This book to me is a behemoth of storytelling. Not only that though, it is a touchstone for social commentary and inclusivity. It is a masterclass in collecting audiences from all aspects that the book touches on, providing them with food for thought that is personal to them whilst allowing the exploration of new dishes. I quite frankly loved it.