Graham Greene is one of the finest twentieth-century writers that I've read. I think readers will find this book relevant, easy to read, and highly accessible, like most of his other writings. I saw the movie "The Quiet American" first, which I also highly recommend. It was beautifully filmed, well acted, and had a very timely message regarding the dangers of a foreign policy that sacrifies the value of innocent life for a much-lauded cause-on behalf of people it's not clear are on board with said cause, and may not actually want outsiders to liberate/bomb them.
This book takes place in Vietnam in the early 1950s (which is also when it was written) when Vietnam was still part of the French colony Indochine. The Vietnamese communists are fighting the French to gain their country's independence, and the Americans are aiding the French, because they believe Southeast Asia is a stack of dominoes about to go over to the Soviets. But some American theorists are suggesting that the "Old Colonialists" cannot possibly win the trust of the Vietnamese people and therefore to truly combat communism there they have to create or aid a "Third Force"-something the Vietnamese people might accept as a genuine nationalist movement, that can be an anti-colonial force as powerful as Communism.
People familiar with the history of the Cold War know that this was often American policy in several countries. Initially, the U.S. would refuse to aid a given independence movement and give money and weapons to the ruling colonial power, making argument that this would better hold the tide against communism. In the case of Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh initially asked the U.S. for support against the French, which the U.S. denied, believing that the status quo was safer than an indigenous independence movement that might become communist.
However, as we all know, many of these movements did turn to the Soviet Union for help, often because they could not procure Western aid for their anti-colonial struggles. This happened in several African and Asian countries. At any rate, this book is about a young, naive and, idealistic American-Alden Pyle-who believes the ends justify the means-whatever they are, and his relationship with a world-weary middle-aged British reporter-Thomas Fowler-who has no patience with Pyle's world of absolutes.
Fowler and Pyle are at odds in every way imaginable, and although Fowler cannot forgive Pyle wanting to marry his Vietnamese mistress or his infuriating way of expecting real life to conform to principles;he has a certain sympathy for Pyle because Pyle is sweet and genuine and has real humility: he's not the "Ugly American" of other anti-colonial literature and he is very likable. However, Greene convincingly suggests that Pyle is a very dangerous type whose vision of the world causes far more damage than Fowler's.
Pyle admires Fowler and has a kind of puppy-dog aspect when he follows around the older man. He wants Fowler to give up his girl for idealistic reasons: he can offer her marriage, children, and security, things Fowler, for various reasons, cannot, and if Fowler really loved her he'd be interested in her future.
This fight over the Vietnamese beauty is an extension of the way Pyle views political reality. Fowler just wants his girlfriend with him-just like, he argues, the Vietnamese just want to be left alone, not have white people telling them what to do, and have enough to eat. They don't want to hear about liberty, he says bitterly, they just don't want their heads blown off. Pyle thinks he has something better to offer Phuong and Vietnam, both of whom are actually only interested in survival, both of whom are offered precious few options and very little autonomy in the situations they find themselves.
The movie was quite faithful to the book, extremely so in fact, but the book is still very much worth reading if you enjoyed the movie because the dialogue between Pyle and Fowler is more extensive than it was in the movie and more revealing of Greene's political ideas. It was also really interesting reading it as an American because it made me think how strange it was that this book, with all its profound insights about the state of Vietnam at that time and the impossibility of Pyle's vision doing any good, was written in the early 1950s. It seems that we knew, or could have known, enough early enough to have an idea, from the French experience there, to spare our own soldiers the horrors of an interminable imperialist war. I wish more policy makers had read the book.
Definitely read this book even if you don't have an interest in geo-politics of the twentieth century though-it isn't boring moralizing as my review might have suggested, but actually entertainingly written and filled with action and suspense. Also, a warning, there are some Asian stereotypes in the book that were offensive, but I felt Graham had Fowler express them for specific reasons. He ultimately has Fowler realize that he is "creating a character" for his mistress as much as Pyle is for her; she is powerless and unable to represent herself, and so Fowler's tried to rationalize his wish to hold on to her with certain cultural constructs.
Overall, it's a great and timeless story that would appeal to and interest a wide range of people.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
God's Bit of Wood by Ousmane Sembène
I am sad to say that even though I have read a great deal of French literature, my passion for African literature was confined until recently to anglophone writers. I don't know why. It was a mistake! I absolutely loved this book. It really was the African Germinal, but by comparing it to Emile Zola's 19th century book about French miners, I in no way mean to diminish the originality of Ousmane's contribution. Germinal is one of my favorite novels of all time, and this one was equally good. It was so moving, and often sad, but also, incredibly uplifting. Unlike Germinal, however, it left me with a feeling of hope and inspiration. The ending is so much more promising than Zola's. I'm getting ahead of myself. There is so much to praise.
First of all, Ousmane, who we recently lost, writes with a lyrical genius, a kind of epic prose that makes you want to linger on his every word. Secondly, he has such great insight into the imperial mentality, which has changed very little, whether we are talking about "formal" colonialism (this novel describes a railworker strike in 1940s ) or today's variety. He shows colonial mentalities for what they were and are-their paternalism, their patronizing condenscention, their contempt for the humanity of others. But he also has-this brings me to my third major point of praise- these great heroes, these simple men and women (he is such a great feminist!) who bring dignity and courage to everything they do and say. They find their own worth in the strike, and become fulfilled by it.
Like Zola, Ousmane vividly and thrillingly evokes the privation and misery that working people who strike against a powerful corporation must endure, but unlike Zola, Ousmane's characters find themselves, their souls, and real meaning in their lives through striking-striking is what gives them the moral and intellectual power to force the colonists to recognize them as equals.
First of all, Ousmane, who we recently lost, writes with a lyrical genius, a kind of epic prose that makes you want to linger on his every word. Secondly, he has such great insight into the imperial mentality, which has changed very little, whether we are talking about "formal" colonialism (this novel describes a railworker strike in 1940s ) or today's variety. He shows colonial mentalities for what they were and are-their paternalism, their patronizing condenscention, their contempt for the humanity of others. But he also has-this brings me to my third major point of praise- these great heroes, these simple men and women (he is such a great feminist!) who bring dignity and courage to everything they do and say. They find their own worth in the strike, and become fulfilled by it.
Like Zola, Ousmane vividly and thrillingly evokes the privation and misery that working people who strike against a powerful corporation must endure, but unlike Zola, Ousmane's characters find themselves, their souls, and real meaning in their lives through striking-striking is what gives them the moral and intellectual power to force the colonists to recognize them as equals.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Fear and Loathing my First Real Post
So, the last two books I have read were Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Your Inner Fish: A Journey into the 3.5-Billion-Year History of the Human Body by Neil Shubin. I'll start with Fear and Loathing, since I think I have less to say. I got this as a Christmas present, I assume it was my present, because the other gift in the box sent to me and my wife was some sort of mascara. It may seem obvious, whose gift would be whose, but there was a curious note about my lashes being subpar.
There is a plot of sorts, but if you have read the book, you don't need me to rehash it, and if you haven't there is no point. This book may be autobiographical, or not, or maybe Hunter S. Thompson wants us to believe that it is, or not. I suppose somewhere, someone explains it all, but I am too lazy to look, and why ruin the vibe? For whatever reason, I always thought this book was written in the late 60's. About half way through I looked at the copyright date and saw it was published in 1971. This made a lot more sense.
There is a pervading sense of a party winding down in the book. The party was fun and interesting at one point, but it's late, everyone feels a little sick, and the only stuff left to drink is the scary, green and sticky bottle of some unpronounceable bottle of something that the previous renters left behind, and the foreign exchange student from the former Soviet bloc that you invited to the party swears he recognizes from his home country and will get you "f'ed up good." Everyone winds up drinking it, because looking around, you realize that at this time of night, you don't want to sober up in the disgusting apartment the party is in, and it seems easier and safer to be in an altered state, no matter how sickly, until daylight comes around. Towards the end, Thompson admits that by the early 70's no one wanted their consciousness changed, they just wanted to kill the Nixon years by ingesting any downer they could find.
The funniest parts for me were when they found the American Dream in Circus Circus. Having honeymooned in Vegas, and staying in Circus Circus, I can certainly see their point. Perhaps even more so, since by the time we got there Circus Circus was no longer as exciting and as depraved as Thompson describes. Looking back, the washed-up feeling seems to better suit today's American Dream. The other really funny part, comes when Thompson's character and his Samoan lawyer are crashing a police convention on the drug problems in the United States. Thompson's description of the convention lampoons brilliantly the persistent, conceptual, misunderstanding that the state always has of those on the outside of society. The presumptions that both sides bring to the table are always so far apart, neither side can ever understand the other. The divide becomes more apparent, when Thompson and his lawyer tell stories about the drug culture in California and what is being done about it, while masquerading as undercover cops, to cops from middle america. The stories are so outlandish and so obviously not true that no one could ever take them seriously, unless, the level of incomprehension is so high that the stories plug straight into the fear receptors of the listener's consciousness. If we haven't seen, in our own lives, such fear-mongering over drugs, terrorists, the dangers of a progressive tax-code, etc. and the horrendous outcomes, we would never be able to take Thompson seriously.
There is a plot of sorts, but if you have read the book, you don't need me to rehash it, and if you haven't there is no point. This book may be autobiographical, or not, or maybe Hunter S. Thompson wants us to believe that it is, or not. I suppose somewhere, someone explains it all, but I am too lazy to look, and why ruin the vibe? For whatever reason, I always thought this book was written in the late 60's. About half way through I looked at the copyright date and saw it was published in 1971. This made a lot more sense.
The funniest parts for me were when they found the American Dream in Circus Circus. Having honeymooned in Vegas, and staying in Circus Circus, I can certainly see their point. Perhaps even more so, since by the time we got there Circus Circus was no longer as exciting and as depraved as Thompson describes. Looking back, the washed-up feeling seems to better suit today's American Dream. The other really funny part, comes when Thompson's character and his Samoan lawyer are crashing a police convention on the drug problems in the United States. Thompson's description of the convention lampoons brilliantly the persistent, conceptual, misunderstanding that the state always has of those on the outside of society. The presumptions that both sides bring to the table are always so far apart, neither side can ever understand the other. The divide becomes more apparent, when Thompson and his lawyer tell stories about the drug culture in California and what is being done about it, while masquerading as undercover cops, to cops from middle america. The stories are so outlandish and so obviously not true that no one could ever take them seriously, unless, the level of incomprehension is so high that the stories plug straight into the fear receptors of the listener's consciousness. If we haven't seen, in our own lives, such fear-mongering over drugs, terrorists, the dangers of a progressive tax-code, etc. and the horrendous outcomes, we would never be able to take Thompson seriously.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Emile Zola's La Debacle (Oxford World's Classics).
Blog Notes:
This is one of the reviews I am most proud of, also from 2005. It is also one of the ones to get unanimous acclaim in its previous appearance. I am a huge fan of Zola and of the Rougon-Macquart cycle in particular. It is the 19th (penultimate--I will seize on any opportunity to use that word, and opportunities to use it are rare) in the series, and one of my favorites, originally published in 1892. A French reader thanked me for my (apparently uncharacteristic for an American) interest in the Franco-Prussian war.
This was an amazing story about the Franco-Prussian war, but it could have been about any war and the destructive influence it has on men and women, and on all human relationships. Zola tells the story, in vivid, sometimes gruesome but always very compassionate and heartbreaking detail (most of the plot is based on real historical events), of the absolute disaster that was the Franco-Prussian "debacle" of 1870-1.
For anyone interested in French history, it is required reading. This was an absolutely pivotal event in the formation of the Third Republic and the death of the Second Empire, an Empire which Zola had already suggested in his previous novels was rotten to the core. Writing twenty years after the event, Zola was describing a memory still vivid in the minds of most of his readers.
The Franco-Prussian war was truly a debacle. Not only had Napoleon III provoked the French into a doomed war with the Prussians, who with their superior artillery and military tactics ended up invading France and slaughtering and starving thousands upon thousands of men, but he ultimately set the French against each other when, at the end of the war, some Frenchmen and women wanted to surrender the hopeless cause-and some wanted to fight to the death-their deaths-on principle. Many of the French showed amazing bravery and refused to surrender, even after Napoleon III was taken prisoner and a new French government acted to conclude the war.
In a famous and tragic episode, after the war was lost and many French were working to effect a surrender, political radicals staged a hopeless but heroic last stand in Paris, electing an independent municipal government-the famous Paris Commune-and holding the city. Eventually other Frenchmen were finally set against their brothers to force them to wave the white flag. In their determination to not yield one inch of the soil to the Prussian invaders, in one of the most powerful and haunting scenes in the novel (and in history), the Commune sets Paris on fire and Zola describes the entire city of lights roaring with fire, gone up with smoke and having turned the sky red.
If you've ever been in Paris it's a compelling scene and you'll remember all the places he mentions if, like me, you've spent some time there. It's odd to think that the Pere Lachaise cemetery, where so many of us go to see the graves of Oscar Wilde, Sarah Bernhardt, Jim Morrison or Abelard and Heloise (a site featured on an episode of America's Next Top Model no less!) is where thousands of French radicals-and uninvolved Parisian civilians as well--were lined up against the wall and shot point-blank in summary executions--by their own countrymen--something that Zola and others would never forget. I think it's very important that Zola dealt with these crimes in his novel.
Although Zola doesn't pretend that some of the Communards were not, in fact, war profiteers or criminals, he has much sympathy with some of them and their sincere political committments; as a man of the left he cannot help but find common ground with some of their arguments or with their feeling of betrayal by their own government. He is also disgusted, as so many French were, with the brutal way in which they were liquidated.
The hero of the story is Jean Macquart. You definitely don't have to have read any of the other books in the Rougon-Macquart series of twenty novels (!) to appreciate this book, however if you have read La Terre (The Earth) you will already like Jean for his general kindness and sensible nature. He is a sweet man who has an unlikely friendship with Maurice, the young radically-inclined soldier who ultimately joins the Commune. The introduction to my book was a bit heavy handed, (I suggest reading it after you've completed the novel since it gives all major plot points away) claiming that they represent the two "eternal sides of France", but there's a real human relationship here.
By today's standards this friendship would seem over the top and overly sentimental, but taken in the historical context it's quite a beautiful friendship. More than anything we get a sense of the senseless slaughter of a pointless war, the deep fraternal divisions it causes, and these are embodied in two very appealing characters, Jean and Maurice. Zola makes it clear that it makes sense, obviously, that Maurice would be furious and feel betrayed. I'm a pacifist, but if the invaders are at your door-which they literally were in this case--it's hard to know how you would feel.
On the other hand Jean's view is portrayed with sympathy-he's endured tremendous suffering due to this ridiculous war, and like Maurice he's shown tremendous bravery and courage, like so many Frenchmen did at that time (take that everyone who makes fun of the French tendency to surrender-I wish all of you had to read this book!) but he is an ordinary person who would like to get back to ordinary life--which really is a normal emotion to have. He also hates to see Paris burning--it's the epitome of craziness to him, and to us, even while we also see Maurice's view, that no one should care anymore, France is dead and defeated.
At the end, when Jean perseveres and goes on to build a new France, we're hopeful for him. But we can't help feeling the looming shadow of two World Wars to come, and it's also a sad book, reminding us of the vast physical and emotional wounds war leaves behind.
An absolute masterpiece!
This is one of the reviews I am most proud of, also from 2005. It is also one of the ones to get unanimous acclaim in its previous appearance. I am a huge fan of Zola and of the Rougon-Macquart cycle in particular. It is the 19th (penultimate--I will seize on any opportunity to use that word, and opportunities to use it are rare) in the series, and one of my favorites, originally published in 1892. A French reader thanked me for my (apparently uncharacteristic for an American) interest in the Franco-Prussian war.
This was an amazing story about the Franco-Prussian war, but it could have been about any war and the destructive influence it has on men and women, and on all human relationships. Zola tells the story, in vivid, sometimes gruesome but always very compassionate and heartbreaking detail (most of the plot is based on real historical events), of the absolute disaster that was the Franco-Prussian "debacle" of 1870-1.
For anyone interested in French history, it is required reading. This was an absolutely pivotal event in the formation of the Third Republic and the death of the Second Empire, an Empire which Zola had already suggested in his previous novels was rotten to the core. Writing twenty years after the event, Zola was describing a memory still vivid in the minds of most of his readers.
The Franco-Prussian war was truly a debacle. Not only had Napoleon III provoked the French into a doomed war with the Prussians, who with their superior artillery and military tactics ended up invading France and slaughtering and starving thousands upon thousands of men, but he ultimately set the French against each other when, at the end of the war, some Frenchmen and women wanted to surrender the hopeless cause-and some wanted to fight to the death-their deaths-on principle. Many of the French showed amazing bravery and refused to surrender, even after Napoleon III was taken prisoner and a new French government acted to conclude the war.
In a famous and tragic episode, after the war was lost and many French were working to effect a surrender, political radicals staged a hopeless but heroic last stand in Paris, electing an independent municipal government-the famous Paris Commune-and holding the city. Eventually other Frenchmen were finally set against their brothers to force them to wave the white flag. In their determination to not yield one inch of the soil to the Prussian invaders, in one of the most powerful and haunting scenes in the novel (and in history), the Commune sets Paris on fire and Zola describes the entire city of lights roaring with fire, gone up with smoke and having turned the sky red.
If you've ever been in Paris it's a compelling scene and you'll remember all the places he mentions if, like me, you've spent some time there. It's odd to think that the Pere Lachaise cemetery, where so many of us go to see the graves of Oscar Wilde, Sarah Bernhardt, Jim Morrison or Abelard and Heloise (a site featured on an episode of America's Next Top Model no less!) is where thousands of French radicals-and uninvolved Parisian civilians as well--were lined up against the wall and shot point-blank in summary executions--by their own countrymen--something that Zola and others would never forget. I think it's very important that Zola dealt with these crimes in his novel.
Although Zola doesn't pretend that some of the Communards were not, in fact, war profiteers or criminals, he has much sympathy with some of them and their sincere political committments; as a man of the left he cannot help but find common ground with some of their arguments or with their feeling of betrayal by their own government. He is also disgusted, as so many French were, with the brutal way in which they were liquidated.
The hero of the story is Jean Macquart. You definitely don't have to have read any of the other books in the Rougon-Macquart series of twenty novels (!) to appreciate this book, however if you have read La Terre (The Earth) you will already like Jean for his general kindness and sensible nature. He is a sweet man who has an unlikely friendship with Maurice, the young radically-inclined soldier who ultimately joins the Commune. The introduction to my book was a bit heavy handed, (I suggest reading it after you've completed the novel since it gives all major plot points away) claiming that they represent the two "eternal sides of France", but there's a real human relationship here.
By today's standards this friendship would seem over the top and overly sentimental, but taken in the historical context it's quite a beautiful friendship. More than anything we get a sense of the senseless slaughter of a pointless war, the deep fraternal divisions it causes, and these are embodied in two very appealing characters, Jean and Maurice. Zola makes it clear that it makes sense, obviously, that Maurice would be furious and feel betrayed. I'm a pacifist, but if the invaders are at your door-which they literally were in this case--it's hard to know how you would feel.
On the other hand Jean's view is portrayed with sympathy-he's endured tremendous suffering due to this ridiculous war, and like Maurice he's shown tremendous bravery and courage, like so many Frenchmen did at that time (take that everyone who makes fun of the French tendency to surrender-I wish all of you had to read this book!) but he is an ordinary person who would like to get back to ordinary life--which really is a normal emotion to have. He also hates to see Paris burning--it's the epitome of craziness to him, and to us, even while we also see Maurice's view, that no one should care anymore, France is dead and defeated.
At the end, when Jean perseveres and goes on to build a new France, we're hopeful for him. But we can't help feeling the looming shadow of two World Wars to come, and it's also a sad book, reminding us of the vast physical and emotional wounds war leaves behind.
An absolute masterpiece!
A Man of the People by Chinua Achebe (Anchor, 1998)
Blog note: I wrote this in 2005. I'm noticing a pattern here: many, many reviews were written during the period of time right before I gave birth to my first daughter and while I was finishing up my dissertation. I must have just taken breaks to write book reviews. This is why I remember logging in eleven hour library days, running from books to the computer.
I loved "Things Fall Apart", and it was what got me to fall in love with African literature in the first place-and download a list of Africa's 100 greatest works of literature in order to try to feed my passion! (I'm not sure how far into it I am now!) It is a masterpiece and so moving.
However, I have to admit there is something so perfect about "A Man of the People", so witty, so well-written, so perfect, so flawless, that it might be better than "Things Fall Apart". Since this book takes place during the post-colonial period, it has a completely different tone than Things Fall Apart. For one thing, it uses a smattering of pidgin (a Nigerian combination of indigenous words, English and slang), which is hard to understand for outsiders to the culture but fascinating-only a little is used and doesn't at all detract from understanding the novel if you're not a native speaker, and it adds a lot of flavor.
Achebe's masterful writing and talent at crafting stories-saying more with subtlety than many have said with bombast- is what makes this book worth reading if you're not interested in Africa in particular. If you are interested in Africa, this is an important exploration of the post-colonial situation. The narrator, part of the educated elite, becomes enamored of the so-called "Man of the People", a man who embodies a Nigerian postcolonial political leader of a certain kind-always ready to take a bribe, charming, populist, and utterly corrupt.
At first the narrator is intrigued by the Man of the People, and admires his style. The realization of what men like this are doing to his country forces the narrator to realize what is at stake when the nation allows itself to accept thievery as a cultural value. Although he is initially immature and moved to vengeance because the "Man of the People" beds his girl, he rapidly matures and comes to identify with his idealist friends, a couple who have not abandoned their optimism and compassion for the people.
A Must-Read, and one of my favorite books of all time.
I loved "Things Fall Apart", and it was what got me to fall in love with African literature in the first place-and download a list of Africa's 100 greatest works of literature in order to try to feed my passion! (I'm not sure how far into it I am now!) It is a masterpiece and so moving.
However, I have to admit there is something so perfect about "A Man of the People", so witty, so well-written, so perfect, so flawless, that it might be better than "Things Fall Apart". Since this book takes place during the post-colonial period, it has a completely different tone than Things Fall Apart. For one thing, it uses a smattering of pidgin (a Nigerian combination of indigenous words, English and slang), which is hard to understand for outsiders to the culture but fascinating-only a little is used and doesn't at all detract from understanding the novel if you're not a native speaker, and it adds a lot of flavor.
Achebe's masterful writing and talent at crafting stories-saying more with subtlety than many have said with bombast- is what makes this book worth reading if you're not interested in Africa in particular. If you are interested in Africa, this is an important exploration of the post-colonial situation. The narrator, part of the educated elite, becomes enamored of the so-called "Man of the People", a man who embodies a Nigerian postcolonial political leader of a certain kind-always ready to take a bribe, charming, populist, and utterly corrupt.
At first the narrator is intrigued by the Man of the People, and admires his style. The realization of what men like this are doing to his country forces the narrator to realize what is at stake when the nation allows itself to accept thievery as a cultural value. Although he is initially immature and moved to vengeance because the "Man of the People" beds his girl, he rapidly matures and comes to identify with his idealist friends, a couple who have not abandoned their optimism and compassion for the people.
A Must-Read, and one of my favorite books of all time.
This House Has Fallen: Nigeria in Crisis by Karl Maier, (Basic Books, 2002)
Blog Introduction: I wrote this review in 2005.
I hated this book for a variety of reasons. First of all, no one who has any real appreciation of Nigeria's rich and diverse culture, history, literature, music, etc., will be even mildly convinced that this man knows the first thing about the people and the country about which he decided to write this wretched book.
You, the potential reader, may not know this, but at least you have me to tell you before you make the mistake of purchasing this book in the fraudulent belief that you will learn something from it. Maier seems obsessed with simply presenting Nigeria as a basketcase, despite the fact that he does not have a profound understanding of its people. No one like that should write a book like this.
Wole Soyinka and Chinua Achebe, two of Nigeria's most talented authors, have both written books extremely critical of Nigeria, but they did so from a position of knowledge, and it showed. Which is not to say that you have to be from Nigeria to write a book about the country. Certainly not. But presenting the nation out of context in such an unsympathetic way, with so little nuance, is not only poor scholarship, it's dangerous.
Nigeria has tremendous problems, but it also has amazing success stories, none of which made it into this book. There are stories demonstrating the remarkable ingenuity, entrepreneurship and dilligence of Nigerian men and women under the hardest circumstances. It's a nation with great art, great literature, great music, a great sense of humor, not to mention thousands of years of history, and some of Africa's longest lasting and most interesting kingdoms and cultures.
But, you would definitely not know that reading this book, because all you are presented with is a bunch of miserable information. How would one expect readers to become interested in such a place? I'm not suggesting that Nigeria's very real problems be ignored, far from it. I'm only saying that a national portrait of political and moral collapse should at least show that the nation in question ALSO has remarkable talent, also has some of the funniest, warmest, and most resilient people you'll ever meet, also has a fascinating history, is diverse, and has complex historical reasons for so many of its problems. The book doesn't really explain how colonialism or modern financial interests and corporate interest might play into that. Or, why corrupt leaders come to power. What's the dynamic there? Why does this happen? The book doesn't deign to attempt answer such questions. Why? I have no idea. It just tells us that it's a corrupt country, and that we should care because it has oil, and a hundred million people.
I really think the world would be a better place if uninformed people stopped writing pessimistic drivel that further defames a continent which needs defenders, not detractors. I can't believe I bought this book, and own it.
I hated this book for a variety of reasons. First of all, no one who has any real appreciation of Nigeria's rich and diverse culture, history, literature, music, etc., will be even mildly convinced that this man knows the first thing about the people and the country about which he decided to write this wretched book.
You, the potential reader, may not know this, but at least you have me to tell you before you make the mistake of purchasing this book in the fraudulent belief that you will learn something from it. Maier seems obsessed with simply presenting Nigeria as a basketcase, despite the fact that he does not have a profound understanding of its people. No one like that should write a book like this.
Wole Soyinka and Chinua Achebe, two of Nigeria's most talented authors, have both written books extremely critical of Nigeria, but they did so from a position of knowledge, and it showed. Which is not to say that you have to be from Nigeria to write a book about the country. Certainly not. But presenting the nation out of context in such an unsympathetic way, with so little nuance, is not only poor scholarship, it's dangerous.
Nigeria has tremendous problems, but it also has amazing success stories, none of which made it into this book. There are stories demonstrating the remarkable ingenuity, entrepreneurship and dilligence of Nigerian men and women under the hardest circumstances. It's a nation with great art, great literature, great music, a great sense of humor, not to mention thousands of years of history, and some of Africa's longest lasting and most interesting kingdoms and cultures.
But, you would definitely not know that reading this book, because all you are presented with is a bunch of miserable information. How would one expect readers to become interested in such a place? I'm not suggesting that Nigeria's very real problems be ignored, far from it. I'm only saying that a national portrait of political and moral collapse should at least show that the nation in question ALSO has remarkable talent, also has some of the funniest, warmest, and most resilient people you'll ever meet, also has a fascinating history, is diverse, and has complex historical reasons for so many of its problems. The book doesn't really explain how colonialism or modern financial interests and corporate interest might play into that. Or, why corrupt leaders come to power. What's the dynamic there? Why does this happen? The book doesn't deign to attempt answer such questions. Why? I have no idea. It just tells us that it's a corrupt country, and that we should care because it has oil, and a hundred million people.
I really think the world would be a better place if uninformed people stopped writing pessimistic drivel that further defames a continent which needs defenders, not detractors. I can't believe I bought this book, and own it.
Blogging?!
After careful consideration (not really), I've decided that the best thing I could contribute to a blog would be my book reviews. But until now, they were unavailable under my name. They were all anonymously contributed!
So I am going to go through the painstaking process of (slowly) reproducing them here where they can be read and I can claim my rightful authorship of them. I figure that's a good way to first establish why anyone should bother listening to me: before I give you my precious political observations, my various philosophical positions, and all the other self-absorbed gems I assume people have come to expect from bloggers (I wouldn't know; I don't really read blogs, and I'm really late to the blogosphere), I'd better build up some cred as to why you would care for my opinion. So let's see where this goes.
So what follows for awhile will be book reviews, my favorite ones of which I am most proud. Many were popular. A few seemed to have caused minor controversy. And while perhaps I don't feel as strongly about some of the books as I used to, if the reviews were funny enough I might reproduce them as they were.
Enjoy!
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