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Friday, March 22, 2019

Review of AN ORCHESTRA OF MINORITIES by Chigozie Obioma

3.5 Stars
This book is narrated by the protagonist’s chi, an Igbo guardian spirit.  He addresses Chukwa, the Igbo chief deity, pleading for leniency for his host, Chinonso Solomon Olisa, who may have killed someone.  The chi recounts Chinonso’s story:  he, a poultry farmer, falls in love with Ndali, a pharmacy student.  She is the daughter of a wealthy, prominent, and well-respected family that objects to her marrying someone they consider beneath her.  Wanting to improve his chances of being accepted by Ndali’s family, he embraces an offer of a university education in Cyprus.  He sells his ancestral property and virtually all of his possessions to raise the necessary funds, but when he arrives in Cyprus, he learns he has been conned and finds himself penniless in a foreign country.  Then his trials and tribulations really begin.

The epigraph includes an Igbo proverb:  “If the prey do not produce their version of the tale, the predators will always be the heroes in the stories of the hunt.”  The book gives voice to one who would be considered the prey.  Unfortunately, as the title suggests, there is little that Chinonso can do against his fate.  The title refers to the crying of birds that can do nothing about their cruel fate.  Several times Chinonso is described as being “deplumed” and, not surprisingly, he comes to identify with “All who have been chained and beaten, whose lands have been plundered, whose civilizations have been destroyed, who have been silenced, raped, shamed and killed.  With all these people, he’d come to share a common fate.  They were the minorities of the world whose only recourse was to join this universal orchestra in which all there was to do was cry and wail.” 

There is a daunting amount of information about Igbo cosmology and culture.  There are long passages which meant little to me:  “Indeed, Alandiichie is a carnival, a living world away from the earth.  It is like the great Ariaria market of Aba, or the Ore-orji in Nkpa the time before the coming of the White Man. . .  . The eminent fathers were there. . . . There was, for example, Chukwumeruije, and his brother, Mmereole, the great Onye-nka, sculptor of the face of the ancestral spirits.  His sculptures and masks of the deities; the faces of many arunsi, ikengas and agwus . . . The great mothers dwell here, too. . . .Most notable, for instance, was Oyadinma Oyiridiya, the great dancer, . . . Among many others, there were Uloaku and Obianuju, the head of one of the greatest umuadas in history, one whom Ala herself, the supreme deity, had pomaded with her honey-coated lotion and who poisoned the waters of the Ngwa clan many centuries ago.” 

It is not just this type of exposition that is challenging.  There are instances of language which is not translated:
                -Nde bi na’ Alandiichie, ekene’m unu.
                ‘Ibia wo!’
                -Nde na eche ezi na’ulo Okeoha na Omenkara, ekene mu unu.
                ‘Ibia wo!’
Some of the conversations are in Nigerian Pidgin which is not always easy to decipher:  “’Oh boy, you no sabi wetin you dey talk’” and “’These Turka people sef, dem no sabi anything oh.  Tell am say na so the hair be jare.’” 

Having a chi as the narrator is interesting.  He is 700 years old and has been reincarnated many times so he is wise and able to place Chinonso’s tragedies into a broader context.  His oft-repeated phrase (44 times) is “I have seen it many times.”  He repeats this phrase after making observations like “loneliness is the violent dog that barks interminably through the long night of grief” and “things do not always happen in accordance with the expectation of man” and “A man in need will hang on to whatever he can get to survive” and “Love is a thing that cannot be lightly destroyed in a heart in which it has found habitation” and “A man seeking justice with his own hands must dispense it as quickly as possible, or he risks being destroyed by his own dark desire.”  Of course, the one difficulty with this narrator is that the reader is always given information second-hand; this perspective causes some distancing from the protagonist.

Nonetheless, the reader cannot but have compassion for this humble man who risks everything to better his life and be worthy of the woman he loves.  He is a simple man who doesn’t understand and cannot defend himself against the forces lined up against him.  The humiliations he endures as Ndali’s family tries to force him to end his relationship will bring a sensitive reader to tears.  When Chinonso writes an account of his time in Cyprus, he entitles it “How I Went to Hell in Cypros”.  Not only does he discover that he has lost everything, but he also encounters racism:  people demand to feel his hair and mock him by calling him an arap, a slave.  Because he is a black Nigerian, his suffering at the hands of the Turks is made even worse. 

The book has some weaknesses.  Ndali is not sufficiently developed so it is not clear why she is so attracted to this man whose life and experiences are so different.  Is it as simple as what she says (“From the first day, I knew you were genuine”)?  Some events are left unexplained.  For instance, Chinonso has a relationship with a woman named Motu but she just stops coming to see him.  Why?  Why is this relationship described in considerable detail? 

The book’s length (450+ pages) indicates its density.  It is not recommended to anyone looking for a light read because this is a serious book through which sadness permeates.  As the chi points out, there are parallels between the Chinonso/Ndali story and the Odysseus/Penelope myth, but there is frequent foreshadowing that the tales may not end the same way. 

This novel is a worthwhile read for those who are ready for a challenge.

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