carinacost6371

There are parts of the general arc of this novel that remind me of both Nadine Gordimer (a favorite) and Chinua Achebe (respected--by me--but not beloved), like story's epic grandeur, its unapologetic nationalism and multi-polar racial politics. What Adichie takes on is ambitious; the shifting POV and the characterization of war were surely hard to balance. And I can definitely understand why so many people were talking about this book this year--its earnest tone and idealistic, humanist thrust are so different than a lot of what is coming out now. Not to say that it's a feel-good novel, because it's not at all. She seems to struggle with the question of who to keep alive, and that's why (I won't ruin it) the death so close to the end, of both the war and the book, felt forced. It is almost as if she maneuvered to squeeze as much tragedy out of that one death since, gee, it's a war novel and someone has to die, right? Reading novels like this can sometimes feel like driving slowly on a winding road, always expecting the hairpin turn just ahead. You are waiting for tragedy. Still, lightness and love feature strongly throughout the book and in many ways is a dual love story. It's also a story of... wait for it... overcoming odds and the indomitableness of spirit.

2022-11-09 19:22