A Spell of Good Things
A Spell of Good Things was longlisted for the 2023 Booker Prize. I think it does what it sets out to do effectively. Unfortunately, I just didn’t personally jive with the book. But you might!
About the book
Author: Ayọ̀bámi Adébáyọ̀
Publisher: Knopf
More info:
The StoryGraph | Goodreads
Note: Content and trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the review.
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Bookshop.org (print) | Libro.fm (audio)
My Review
A Spell of Good Things was longlisted for the 2023 Booker Prize. After reading it, I can see why — it’s right up the Booker’s alley (at least as far as longlisters go). Unfortunately, I personally didn’t really jive with this book.
I definitely understand and respect what the book was doing, which was to show us how class and gender had/have a big impact on the experience of Nigerians and yet ultimately everyone is subject to the devastating impact of a culture of corruption and violence. It absolutely does what it sets out to do, and very effectively.
I just didn’t have a ton of fun getting there, lol. I spent the whole book waiting for something that didn’t happen until the very end, which made me feel frustrated and bored. So just know going in that you’re starting a slow-paced book where the action doesn’t pick up until right about the end. It’s also not an easy read at all (check trigger warnings!).
I’m glad I listened to the audiobook while I read along in print. I’m not sure my ear, untrained in the Yoruba language, would have been able to follow the audiobook alone (at least not anywhere near my usual listening speed), but I always appreciate the chance to hear languages and names and accents presented by a skilled narrator.
Content and Trigger Warnings
Domestic abuse (severe/graphic)
Kidnapping
Murder and violence
Misogyny
Suicide and suicidal thoughts
The Stone Virgins
The Stone Virgins is a technically challenging and emotionally difficult read, but there’s no denying that it’s also an incredible work of fiction. While I struggled with it, I was also so impressed.
Author: Yvonne Vera
Publisher: FSG
Goodreads | The StoryGraph
Click above to buy this book from my Bookshop.org shop, which supports independent bookstores (not Amazon). You can also find it via your favorite indie bookstore here.
Note: Content and trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
Winner of the Macmillan Prize for African Adult Fiction An uncompromising novel by one of Africa's premiere writers, detailing the horrors of civil war in luminous, haunting prose.
In 1980, after decades of guerilla war against colonial rule, Rhodesia earned its hard-fought-for independence from Britain. Less than two years thereafter when Mugabe rose to power in the new Zimbabwe, it signaled the beginning of brutal civil unrest that would last nearly a half decade more. With The Stone Virgins, Yvonne Vera examines the dissident movement from the perspective of two sisters living in a small township outside of Bulawayo. In a portrait painted in successive impressions of life before and after the liberation, Vera explores the quest for dignity and a centered existence against a backdrop of unimaginable violence; the twin instincts of survival and love; the rival pulls of township and city life; and mankind's capacity for terror, beauty, and sacrifice. One sister will find a reason for hope. One will not make it through alive. Weaving historical fact within a story of grand passions and striking endurance, Vera has gifted us with a powerful and provocative testament to the resilience of the Zimbabwean people.
TL;DR Review
The Stone Virgins is a technically challenging and emotionally difficult read, but there’s no denying that it’s also an incredible work of fiction. While I struggled with it, I was also so impressed.
For you if: You are comfortable with prose that’s lush, but sometimes hard to follow, if it’s worth it.
Full Review
I’d never read Yvonne Vera before — my experience with African literature is pretty lacking overall, truth be told — so when my good friend Bernie announced he was hosting a buddy read of The Stone Virgins, I eagerly joined. And while I wasn’t quite in the right head space to fully enjoy this one, there’s no denying it’s a masterful work.
Vera’s author bio puts it best when it says her books are “known for their poetic prose, difficult subject-matter, and their strong women characters, and are firmly rooted in Zimbabwe's difficult past.” This is no exception. Winner of the Macmillan Prize for African Adult Fiction in 2000, it focuses on two sisters — only one of whom survives — who live in a village near Bulawayo before and after Zimbabwe’s independence from Britain.
The prose here is lush and gorgeous, and her ability to whiplash between beauty and extreme violence (be warned; there are stomach-churning scenes here) is incredible. There’s something reminiscent of Toni Morrison in the reading experience. But it’s also a challenging read that demands slow attention (and that’s where I struggled, as I was traveling for work, pulled in many directions, and super busy). The book has almost no dialogue; the narration moves fluidly forward and backward in time. One review that I read said it felt like reading someone’s dream, and I wholly agree.
Even though this was a bit of the wrong book at the wrong time for me, I’m really glad I read it — and even more glad to have had Bernie’s group chat full of such smart, careful readers to discuss it with. I’m in awe of Vera’s talent, and it’s easy to see why this one received so much acclaim.
Content and Trigger Warnings
Rape and extreme sexual violence
Murder (decapitation)
War
The Bread the Devil Knead
The Bread the Devil Knead is a well-written but very heavy novel about cycles of generational trauma and childhood and domestic abuse. I appreciated it and respect it, but I can’t quite say I enjoyed it.
Author: Lisa Allen-Agostini
Publisher: Myriad Editions
Goodreads | The StoryGraph
Click above to buy this book from my Bookshop.org shop, which supports independent bookstores (not Amazon). You can also find it via your favorite indie bookstore here.
Note: Content and trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
Alethea Lopez is about to turn 40. Fashionable, feisty and fiercely independent, she manages a boutique in Port of Spain, but behind closed doors she’s covering up bruises from her abusive partner and seeking solace in an affair with her boss. When she witnesses a woman murdered by a jealous lover, the reality of her own future comes a little too close to home.
Bringing us her truth in an arresting, unsparing Trinidadian voice, Alethea unravels memories repressed since childhood and begins to understand the person she has become.
Her next step is to decide the woman she wants to be.
This is an engrossing and atmospheric novel with a strong feminist message at the heart of its page-turning plot. It explores an abusive love-affair with searing honesty, and skilfully tackles the issue of gender violence and racism against the lush and heady backdrop of the national festival, and the music that feeds it. It’s impossible not to root for Alethea – she is an unforgettable heroine, trapped in ways she is only just beginning to understand but shining with strength, resolve and, ultimately, self-determination.
TL;DR Review
The Bread the Devil Knead is a well-written but very heavy novel about cycles of generational trauma and childhood and domestic abuse. I appreciated it and respect it, but I can’t quite say I enjoyed it.
For you if: You’re interested in reading books set in Trinidad, and/or about the traps of abuse.
Full Review
I picked up The Bread the Devil Knead because it was shortlisted for this year’s Women’s Prize. While I’m glad that I read it, and I definitely appreciate and respect it, the brutality of the subject matter makes me not quite able to say that I enjoyed it. (TW: domestic abuse ahead)
Set in Port of Spain, Trinidad, the story is about a woman named Alethea. Having run away from an abusive household before bouncing from one bad boyfriend situation to another, she now manages a clothing shop while hiding the bruises her current boyfriend leaves her with. Two things happen to set the story in motion: one, she reconnects with her cousin (who she essentially raised as a baby brother), and two, a woman is shot and killed by a jealous boyfriend outside her shop. We also get flashbacks to her childhood, and new family secrets play into her consideration of whether she is in danger herself, whether she does or doesn’t want a change, and how much to let her friends into her life.
One thing I think this book did very well was to fully capture both Alethea and Port of Spain. I was really glad for the opportunity to read a novel written not only in Trinidad, but largely in a Trinidadian dialect. Alethea is a complex character, and the inside of her mind as we witness the impact of domestic abuse and generational trauma was very well done.
There were two main things that I didn’t quite love, though: First, there is a flashback scene toward the end of the book that, in my opinion, didn’t add anything but brutality. We as readers already knew that the events of the flashback had happened, and I didn’t feel like I needed to actually see it to understand its implication. Second, I’m not sure how I feel about the ending. I don’t want to spoil it, but I guess I’ll just say that it didn’t feel like it worked as hard as I’d hoped it might.
There are definitely aspects of this novel worthy of being read; just know going in that it’s a tough one.
Content and Trigger Warnings
Domestic violence/abuse (graphic, explicit, repeated)
Marital rape
Pedophilia/childhood rape
Gun violence
Incest
The Promise
I’m really glad I read The Promise, which brings South Africa from the end of Apartheid to the present day to life on the page, vividly and impressively. Damon Galgut is obviously a masterful writer.
Author: Damon Galgut
Publisher: Europa Editions
Goodreads | The StoryGraph
Click above to buy this book from my Bookshop.org shop, which supports independent bookstores (not Amazon). You can also find it via your favorite indie bookstore here.
Note: Content and trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
A modern saga that could only have come from South Africa, written in gorgeous prose that could only come from the pen of literary giant and Booker Prize-shortlisted author, Damon Galgut.
The Promise is the story of the Swart family—theirs is a story of failed possibilities, much like the history of their country. Haunted by an unmet promise made to the family servant, the well-to-do Swarts lose touch after the death of their mother.
Reunited by three funerals over three decades, the dwindling family reflects the charged atmosphere of post-apartheid South Africa in a family drama that unfurls against the unrelenting march of national history.
TL;DR Review
I’m really glad I read The Promise, which brings South Africa from the end of Apartheid to the present day to life on the page, vividly and impressively. Damon Galgut is obviously a masterful writer.
For you if: You are interested in recent South African history, and/or just want a really great literary fiction read.
Full Review
I read The Promise for two reasons: first, on my good friend @bernie.lombardi’s recommendation, and second, because it was longlisted for the 2021 Booker Prize (as Bernie expected!). I’m glad I did; this is a good one.
The story takes place in South Africa over about 30 years, from almost the end of Apartheid to pretty much modern day. (Bernie sent some great links for short background reading on South Africa that were really helpful: here, here, and here.) It follows one dwindling white family, focusing on the four times they came together for funerals.
The narration is one of the things that really makes this novel stand out. Reading this book is probably the closest I’ve ever come to reading water. The narration flows and jumps from person to person without pause, sometimes mid-paragraph or even mid-sentence, sometimes landing on nobody at all but rather an omniscient voice. There are no section breaks for stretches of ~90 pages. But it’s not a drag; rather, it has a propulsive momentum. I found myself meaning to get up and turn on the light for like half an hour, having found no good moment to pause.
The novel is full of plenty of layers and metaphors; it’s one of those where the title has several different meanings, which I love. It examines patriotism amidst progress, race and power, and whether we applaud those who do the bare minimum. It brings South Africa at this period of history to life on the page in a visceral, unflinching way.
If you like literary historical fiction and family sagas, this one might be for you!
Content Warnings
Bulemia (graphic), fatphobia
Suicide
Kidnapping
Gun violence / murder
Racism (era of Apartheid)
This Mournable Body (Nervous Conditions, #3)
This Mournable Body is a poignant finish to Tsitsi Dangarembga’s Nervous Conditions books. It’s a searing look at colonialism with a narrator I feel I could reach out and touch.
Author: Tsitsi Dangarembga
Publisher: Graywolf Press (US edition)
Goodreads | The StoryGraph
Click above to buy this book from my Bookshop.org shop, which supports independent bookstores (not Amazon). You can also find it via your favorite indie bookstore here.
Note: Trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
A searing novel about the obstacles facing women in Zimbabwe, by one of the country’s most notable authors
Anxious about her prospects after leaving a stagnant job, Tambudzai finds herself living in a run-down youth hostel in downtown Harare. For reasons that include her grim financial prospects and her age, she moves to a widow’s boarding house and eventually finds work as a biology teacher. But at every turn in her attempt to make a life for herself, she is faced with a fresh humiliation, until the painful contrast between the future she imagined and her daily reality ultimately drives her to a breaking point.
In This Mournable Body, Tsitsi Dangarembga returns to the protagonist of her acclaimed first novel, Nervous Conditions, to examine how the hope and potential of a young girl and a fledgling nation can sour over time and become a bitter and floundering struggle for survival. As a last resort, Tambudzai takes an ecotourism job that forces her to return to her parents’ impoverished homestead. It is this homecoming, in Dangarembga’s tense and psychologically charged novel, that culminates in an act of betrayal, revealing just how toxic the combination of colonialism and capitalism can be.
TL;DR Review
This Mournable Body is a poignant finish to Tsitsi Dangarembga’s Nervous Conditions books. It’s a searing look at colonialism with a narrator I feel I could reach out and touch.
For you if: You want to read more literary fiction by and about African people.
Full Review
“You feel you are creeping up over the edge of a precipice and that this cliff beckons you; worse, that you have a secret desire to fall over its edge into oblivion and that there is no way to stop that fall because you are the precipice.”
I read This Mournable Body because it was shortlisted for the 2020 Booker Prize. I read Nervous Conditions and The Book of Not just before this one, too. It’s hard to review just TMB and not the trilogy as a whole; people say that you can read TMB as a standalone, but now that I’ve read them all and spoken to people who did, I would definitely recommend reading them all.
TMB picks up where the last book left off: with Tambu living in a hostel, unemployed. In this book, we follow the next stage of her life as she continues to seek better for herself but crumbles under the weight of the pressure she and the world put on her, rises again, crumbles again. It’s frustrating and full of weight, heartbreaking and illuminating.
It’s important to note that I am so far from this book’s intended audience as to render my opinions almost useless; this is a story told by a Zimbabwean woman for Zimbabwe. It’s about colonialism, for an audience sill grappling with relatively recent colonization. It’s about duality, and racism, and the definition of self in a world that holds no space for you. And so while there were some moments that felt slower or less accessible to me, that is likely not the case for readers in the actual intended audience, which is glorious and fascinating and the beauty of literature.
I am really, really glad that I read these books, and I recommend them.
Trigger Warnings
Sexual assault
Mental illness and institutionalization
Domestic abuse
Miscarriage
Racism, appropriation, degradation
The Book of Not
Author: Tsitsi Dangarembga
Publisher: Ayebia Clarke Publishing
Goodreads | The StoryGraph
Click above to buy this book from my Bookshop.org shop, which supports independent bookstores (not Amazon). You can also find it via your favorite indie bookstore here.
Note: Trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
A sequel to Nervous Conditions, this is a powerful and engaging story about one young woman's quest to redefine the personal and political forces that threaten to engulf her. As its title suggests, this is also a book about denial and unfulfilled expectations and about the theft of the self that remains one of colonialism's most pernicious legacies. The novel disrupts any comfortable sense of closure to the dilemmas of colonial modernity explored in Nervous Conditions and as such is a fitting sequel.
Review
The Book of Not is the sequel to Nervous Conditions, a modern African classic. It picks up shortly after Nervous Conditions left off, with a striking opening scene from the midst of Rhodesia’s fight for independence from British colonizers. From there, we follow Tambu back to school through her graduation and just beyond, a journey in which her ambition and desire to be seen are blocked again and again by the color of her skin.
As with Nervous Conditions, the pacing and prose take concentration and patience. But I found it to be worth it — this book is a look right into the heart of the individual and systemic racism of that period of colonization. Tambu believes that achieving tangible goals is the primary driver of her worth — but she’s holding herself to unforgiving and impossible standards set and reinforced by racism, playing by the rules of a game rigged against her. No matter how well she does, she will never be recognized for it, but what can she do but keep going? What’s a schoolgirl against the forces of white supremacy and colonization? And so all she can do is keep trying, however futile. It was heartbreaking and frustrating and revelatory to witness her internalization.
Trigger Warnings
Bullying
Racism
Bulemia (mentioned)
Nervous Conditions (Nervous Conditions, #1)
Nervous Conditions is a feminist postcolonial novel set in what’s now Zimbabwe. It reads like the classic it is, but with a sharp voice and unforgettable main character.
Author: Tsitsi Dangarembga
Publisher: Seal Press (original 1988)
Goodreads | The StoryGraph
Click above to buy this book from my Bookshop.org shop, which supports independent bookstores (not Amazon). You can also find it via your favorite indie bookstore here.
Note: Trigger warnings are provided for those who need them at the bottom of this page. If you don’t need them and don’t want to risk spoilers, don’t scroll past the full review.
Cover Description
Tambudzai dreams of education, but her hopes only materialise after her brother's death, when she goes to live with her uncle. At his mission school, her critical faculties develop rapidly, bringing her face to face with a new set of conflicts involving her uncle, his education and his family. Tsitsi Dangarembga's quietly devastating first novel offers a portrait of Zimbabwe, where enlightenment brings its own profound dilemmas.
TL;DR Review
Nervous Conditions is a feminist postcolonial novel set in what’s now Zimbabwe. It reads like the classic it is, but with a sharp voice and unforgettable main character.
For you if: You want to learn more about colonial African history and culture.
Full Review
“Nyasha knew nothing about leaving. She had only been taken to places — to the mission, to England, back to the mission. She did not know what essential parts of you stayed behind no matter how violently you tried to dislodge them in order to take them with you.”
Nervous Conditions, Tsitsi Dangarembga’s debut novel published in 1988, is a modern African classic. It takes place during the British colonial rule of Rhodesia in the 1960s (which won its independence and became Zimbabwe in 1980). It’s written from the perspective of Tambudzai (“Tambu”), a fiercely independent and stubborn Shona girl who grew up on her father’s farming homestead before her uncle, who led the local mission school, offers her the chance at education. Over the following few years, she develops a close relationship with her headstrong cousin Nyasha, pursues her education like a bloodhound, and begins to understand more about herself and how the world works.
While the prose is a bit dense and the pace is a little slow — it definitely reads like a classic — I can absolutely see why this book is so acclaimed. Tambu is one of the most vivid narrators I’ve ever encountered, and her voice is unforgettable. She tells the story for herself, not for you, and that makes all the difference. This book is revelatory from a feminist perspective, especially given (but not only because of) the year it was published. Dangarembga’s presentation of patriarchy, colonialism, the duality of identity, tradition and duty, and more is absolutely excellent.
Trigger Warnings
Fatphobia and body hatred
Anorexia and bulemia