Ending of Purple Hibiscus

I read the end of Purple Hibiscus in an entirely too public space on the third floor of the psych department in East Hall. It wasn’t the best place to be sobbing over a book but that was the spot I’d chosen to do my homework for the day. The ending of the book brought up so many parallels that had been running throughout to my favorite book The Poisonwood Bible, which I remember finishing in a starbucks, sobbing openly over  my frappuccino around this time last year.

            It may just be the homesickness or the loneliness of college, but there was something about being here, 400 miles from my hometown, that made the final scenes of saying goodbye to family and the prospect of never seeing the (unrequited) love of your life again that made this so hard for me. At the end of the book, the family is just Kambili, her mother, and her brother, just like my family, and that made me miss my mommy and brother even more, and made me decide to go home this weekend for no reason. Sometimes you just need it.

            As far as the ending of the book itself, I thought it was fitting. I was glad to see that the mother had not in fact been passively accepting the abuse of Eugene, but rather taking action to end it for herself and her children all this time. While I don’t condone murder in general, I do support defense of your life and your children if you have been physically or sexually abused, and if that means killing your husband, so be it. Although I know that Eugene did a lot for the liberation of Nigerian people I cannot feel empathy for him. Any man that chooses to use his power for violence and manipulation forfeits all autonomy of his life and deserves what he gets. As far as Jaja accepting the punishment, it was disturbing and a little upsetting but not unexpected. I was okay with everything that happened and honestly I was less focused on Jaja and more focused on Kambili’s reaction to her Aunt and cousins leaving for America, as well as Father Amadi, as she describes their letters. I feel deeply for Kambili and empathize with her losing those who made her feel safe and loved, as well as her uncertainty about the future given all of this change in a very short amount of time.

I mean, how could you not get misty eyed reading a book about everything you love changing or leaving when you get to take pictures like this when you go home?!

Post 14 - Essay Topics?

Safe Topic: The foils of Ifeoma and Amaka to Mama and Kambili respectively, and comparing and contrasting their relationships within those units and to each other. How Adichie develops the relationships between each combination of these characters (Kambili to each of them, as well as Ifeoma to Mama) and how that changes the scope of Kambili’s outlooks and attitudes and her way of approaching conflict and her nuclear family. Are these relationships symbiotic or are there more clear influences? How does Adichie use structure and diction to draw parallels between these character units and how does she show that they intersect? Why are they important relationships in the story? How does the relationships being completely independent from men shape their nature?

Likely: How does Kambili’s relationship with religion reflects her relationship with her father. Her father and Father Amaldi can both represent different aspects of religion and I would include an analysis of how her relationship with these two men and her motivations/attitudes surrounding them reflect that of her relationship and attitudes about religion. What influence does religion have on her life? Which man symbolizes how religion has affected/treated her? What does this say about Kambili’s future in the Catholic church and is Adichie intentionally setting us up to make this prediction? Finally, does Kambili’s relationship with religion seem organic or is it forced? Is it out of fear that she loves Jesus? How does this relate to her father and what can we learn about how she feels about her father from what we know about her view on religion, or vice versa?

Risky topic: Comparing the character development of Jaja to Kambili. While Jaja’s influences are more internal – discovering things that he likes, feelings that were simply triggered by external forces such as being taken out of his family unit and particularly away from his father, Kambili’s development comes from very external factors – who she meets and interacts with and learns from when she travels to Nsukka. How does Jaja’s development help us to understand his behavior/acting out at the beginning of the novel? How is the novel setting us up to predict how these developments will manifest themselves? Do Jaja and Kambili act as foils for each other?

Lucky Number 13

“You have become Father Amadi’s sweetheart,” she said. Her tone was the same light tone she had used with Obiora. She could not possibly know how painfully my heart lurched. “He was really worried when you were sick. He talked about you so much. And, amam, it wasn’t just priestly concern.”

            “What did he say?”

            Amaka turned to study my eager face. “You have a crush on him, don’t you?”

            “Crush” was mild. It did not come close to what I felt, how I felt, but I said, “Yes.”

            “Like every other girl on campus.”

            I tightened my grip on the railings. I knew Amaka would not tell me more unless I asked. She wanted me to speak out more, after all. “What do you mean?” I asked.

            “Oh all the girls in church have crushes on him. Even some of the married women. People have crushes on priests all the time, you know. It’s exciting to have to deal with God as a rival.” Amaka ran her hand over the railings, smearing the water droplets. “You’re different. I’ve never heard him talk about anyone like that. He said you never laugh. How shy you are although he knows there’s a lot going on in your head. He insisted on driving Mom to Enugu to see you. I told him he sounded like a person whose wife was sick.”

            “I was happy that he came to the hospital,” I said. It felt easy saying that, letting the words roll off my tongue. Amaka’s eyes still bored into me.

            “It was Uncle Eugone who did that to you, okwia?” she asked.

            I let go of the railings, suddenly needing to ease myself. Nobody had asked, not even the doctor at the hospital or Father Benedict. I did not know what Papa had told them. Or if he had even told them anything. “Did Aunty Ifeoma tell you?” I asked.

            “No, but I guessed so.”

            “Yes. It was him,” I said, and then headed for the toilet. I did not turn to see Amaka’s reaction.

- Pages 219-220

I chose this passage in particular because it is the moment where we truly see the culmination of the growth that has been happening in Amaka and Kambili's relationship. What started out as a scornful one-sided rivalry has flourished into Kambili's first real female friend, who respects her and thinks of her as an equal, with whom she can confide and discuss serious matters, but who also includes her in gossip, boy talk, and all of the teenage girl things that Kambili never had. As Amaka shows these signs of inclusion or even affection, Kambili not only grows more confident - "She wanted me to speak out, after all" - but also her stutter and nerves about speaking to her cousin (or anyone) disappear. For the first time, instead of preceding an interaction with "I wanted to say" or following it up with "I wish I had said," Kambili's feelings about her conversation with Amaka are that "the words roll[ed] off [her] tongue." This distinct difference in diction choice from Adichi contrasts the effective repetition she has used in Kambili's interaction to demonstrate her shyness and often regret as a consequence of said shyness. The use of the conversation about Father Amadi and crushes - something that Kambili has not only never discussed before, but never even really experienced - to establish trust between the two characters and to demonstrate to the reader that a barrier has been broken down between Amaka and Kambili, that Kambili has become grounded enough for Amaka, and Amaka in turn has become humanized enough for Kambili, works well in juxtaposition with the conversation about Kambili's father and how she ended up in the hospital. Kambili is no longer afraid to betray her father and be truthful about his deeds with Amaka. Her fear of her father was shattered when she defended the painting of her grandfather, and as it was Amaka's painting in the first place that gave her this strength, it is only fitting that Kambili's act of honesty about her father's deeds occurs prompted by Amaka as well. 

Amaka Character Analysis

              The character that sticks out to me most in my reading of Purple Hibiscus is Amaka, Auntie Ifeoma’s outspoking daughter, and a seemingly endless source of anxiety for Kimbili. Amaka and Ifeoma serve as foils for Kimbili and her mother, showing a different side of the domestic woman in this culture – perhaps what Kimbili’s family dynamic would have been more like had her Papa not been around, or had been different. Amaka is a teenage girl that mirrors more closely what we as Americans are used to thinking of as teenage girls – they wear makeup and jewelry, look at magazines, and dress more freely – though their behavior in no way displays that they wish to be American. In fact, in contrast to Kimbili and her family, Amaka is sharply opposed to longing for white culture, adamantly proud of her culture, which she demonstrates in many ways, including her choice in listening to traditional music, which she believes more authentic and meaningful, and unashamedly singing in Igbo during prayer. Kimbili, being reflective of everything her father says and does, does show disdain and shame for her heritage and culture, which her father tries to hide as much as possible. Though her Papa is a man of integrity, as demonstrated by his newspaper, he has parlayed a sense of embarrassment of anything that is non-western in the way they live their lives and practice their religion. One of the reasons Amaka makes Kimbili so uncomfortable is because she is the first to make Kimbili aware of how her family uses her privilege to shun their roots – or even make Kimbili aware of how privileged she is in the first place. Although Amaka is often rude in the way she shames Kimbili for her advantages, she is doing important work – privilege, in this case somewhat extreme class privilege, is something that the people who have it must be aware of, especially if they can use that power to help others, which Kimbili’s family pointedly does not.

            As lazy as it is to draw my comparison between two Adichie characters, Amaka reminds me most closely of the narrator/protagonist from “The Thing Around Your Neck,” who demonstrates what national pride genuinely looks like outside of the context of your country. Africans are often made to believe that they have every reason to assimilate and be ashamed of where they are from – that they should be grateful for any opportunity. The narrator of this story and Amaka share that they understand they have no reason to be ashamed, that their culture is their own, and it is not to be looked down upon or appropriated by anyone, black or white. I like to think that the narrator in “The Thing Around Your Neck” is what Amaka would be like grown up, if she lived outside of Africa, though hopefully doing something more for social justice like she dreams of.

Differences Reading Novels vs. Short Stories

    

I feel like novels are much more low pressure to read than short stories, because in short stories you have to immediately, from the get go, start looking for themes, symbols, motifs, etc., because there isn’t time to waste in short stories. I always feel somewhat pressured reading short stories to latch on to what the author is going for very quickly, whereas in a novel I have time to sink in and settle into the story, as the author has ample time to establish characters, write beautifully just for the sake of writing, describe, and delve into various ideas that may not be essential to the plot, but are lovely to read and important to the overall style of the book. In this way, my strategy for reading novels involves more immersion, and trying to connect myself to the story, rather than picking it apart in a literary manner. This novel in particular, like many of Adichie’s short stories, involves an element of learning about an unfamiliar culture. My ignorance really started showing when I went into the book thinking that because I was an expert on the Poisonwood Bible that I would have some sort of prior knowledge, despite the two books taking place in completely different African cultures, between which there is little to no overlap. Therefore throughout this novel I am simply trying to absorb as much as I can, and try to work through it that way instead of picking it apart AP lit style. That will surely come later, but it’s much harder to do with a large work than short stories, where it is possible to analyze the literary choices in one sitting.

Adichie Comparative Post

The stories “Tomorrow Is Too Far,” “The Thing Around Your Neck,” and “Cell One” all demonstrate one of my favorite things to see in a story – a woman (of color) standing up for herself and demonstrating her right to take up space just the same as a man does. The terminology “Take up space” is one that is used in feminist discourse often – women develop eating disorders at much higher rates of men because they feel their body does not have  a right to take up as much space, they often sit with their legs crossed and arms folded while often men slouch in their chairs with their knees far apart, and I found it interesting that Adichie actually used this phrase in “Tomorrow Is Too Far.” The other two aforementioned stories also demonstrate the idea of women asserting their right to be heard and take up space. In “Cell One” the protagonist acts out against what she believes is a waste of time, energy, and resources, and breaks her parents’ car’s windshield which is wholeheartedly badass and something we don’t see a lot from young women of color in stories unless they’re being portrayed in the context of “The Angry Black Woman” trope, which Adichie’s characters seldom are. In “The Thing Around Your Neck,” Adichie’s character is sufficiently creeped out by her borderline stalker, and although she proceeds (with caution) into the relationship, she never surrenders her inhibitions and falls unequivocally in love with him. She keeps her walls up against his suspicious attitude and narcissism, and in the end refuses to make a commitment to a man she does not believe she can share all parts of her life with. It’s wonderful to see women that can be involved in passionate, romantic love stories, but not let it define them, and understand that their autonomy, their background, and so many other parts of themselves are more important than their relationship, and actively vocalize it, and that theme is present in several in Adichie’s stories.

The Nigerian Political System - An Informal Explanation

Ok so basically the Nigerian political system is a Federal Republic with a bicameral legislature that's actually modeled after the United States. This essentially means it doesn't have a monarch and that is has branches of government, legislative (a senate and a house), judicial (which in Nigeria is called the National Assembly, and is headed by the Supreme Court of Nigeria), and the executive, headed by the president (who is elected), in order to balance power, just like the US. One of the big differences is that the Nigerian president is the head of the government and the state, as well as this thing they have called a multi-party system, which means that more than one party can gain control of the government either independently or working as a coalition. This is probably the biggest difference between Nigeria and the US and actually makes Nigeria kind of idiosyncratic because it's like super uncommon for presidential governments to have multi party systems.

This is the current president, Goodluck Jonathan. That's right, HIS NAME IS GOODLUCK.

The common laws are super similar to Britain and Wales because of the history of British imperialism (ahem, I mean, influence), but they have their own Constitution and everything called the Constitution of Nigeria that created the framework for all their laws and stuff. Another difference though between Nigeria and the US is that Nigeria actually has four different common law practices and which ones are in place kind of depend on where you live, and most people abide by a mix of all of them.

• English Law is what's followed in England and Wales and all those countries (duh)
• Common Law is the law developed by the Nigerian court system
• Customary Law is based on the customary practices of Nigerian natives, incorporated and manifested into law.
• Sharia law is a different set entirely, but it's only used in the northern part.

The only other key differences between the US and Nigeria are the number of members in the house and Senate, which is obvious because Nigeria has 39 territories instead of 50 states. Also, all senate and house members have four year terms, and exactly like the US the president has four year terms, renewable once. 

So many similarities between the US and Nigeria!

I hope you learned the basics of the Nigerian political system!

http://www.commonwealthofnations.org/sectors-nigeria/government/government_ministries/

http://www.onlinenigeria.com/government/

There Is Nothing Wrong with Representation for the Sake of Representation

"When I was nine years old," Goldberg says, "Star Trek came on, and I looked at it and I went screaming through the house, 'Come here, mum, everybody, come quick, come quick -- there's a black lady on television and she ain't no maid!'" - Whoopi Goldberg 

Nichelle Nichols was a groundbreaking development in diversity in popular television when she starred in "Star Trek" in 1966

I thought of this quote immediately when I saw Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Ted Talk about her heavily western-influenced writing. Adichie, despite being completely unfamiliar with white western culture, wrote almost exclusively about from its perspective in her early writing, because she simply was not aware that there was room for black African protagonists and perspective in literature. Her feeling of being excluded in full from an entire art form may feel extreme to us "progressives," but her experience is not at all uncommon even in our culture.
The theme of my blog, if you can't tell already, is representation and its importance in writing. I've decided to use this blog post to clarify exactly what that means to me, and why it fits in a writing blog.

                                      
                        Representation changed cinema for the better when it inspired Whoopi Goldberg to pursue acting

To me, representation means finding characters like me in the media I consume. Whether that means their religion, gender, sexual orientation, or simply worldview or personality is similar to mine, can all count as part of that representation. I am very lucky because as a white person, I get to turn on the TV or go to the movies and see people that look like me almost everywhere. However, as a woman that has actual real feelings (and even more than one at a time!), it does get a little repetitive seeing the women that are represented in most media. There are notable exceptions of course, though many of the heroines regarded to break the stereotypes about women in media are few and far between, and even they have major shortcomings, as many were written by men, (re: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Veronica Mars, etc). So if I as an abled bodied white woman have trouble finding characters I can truly connect to, I can't possibly imagine what women of color go through to achieve that end.
Representation matters, particularly in literature, when the reader is free to imagine characters however they like, because it gives writers the chance to create anyone they want, and possibly give a lot of hope to young people in minority groups that don't have many people that are like them that they can aspire to be. Books that are taught in schools are overwhelmingly about or by straight white men, and no offense to straight white men, but I think I've had enough of your perspective. I've really got it. I don't need any more. I've never read a book in school about a queer woman of color, but that's the perspective most people so desperately need because it's the one we've seen the least of. Movies and television are overwhelmingly about straight white men, and I think people have really grasped that demographic, being constantly surrounded by it for - well - ever. It's not that every straight white man is the same and that I can't possibly learn anything from a different straight white man, it's just that I really think specific focus on groups outside of that demographic is way more necessary than reading another "classic" that teaches us about literature, but won't really make any difference in the lives of someone like Adichie - that won't in any way contribute to our wholeness as readers and people.
When Adichie found representation through African novels and stories, she was able to write from what she knew and really express herself and grow into the writer that she is today. Had she not found that representation, she would have continued to feel alienated and isolated from the world that she wanted to join because she was a good writer and it was what she liked to do from a young age. What I'm saying with all this is that while it's important to teach "Moby Dick" and "Of Mice and Men," it's only so important because we've decided that these books are the classics, and if we don't read them we'll feel out of the loop when people discuss "Great Literature." but the truth is, "Great Literature," doesn't really have black people that aren't slaves or maids. It doesn't even really have women that aren't love interests or relatives to the protagonists, and if they are, they're horrendously two dimensional, because they're written by men (Tess of the D'Urbervilles anyone?). Perhaps it's time to shift the emphasis from studying "Great Literature" just because we have to, to studying actually good and diverse books that will broaden our perspectives and make room for more queer people, more women, more people of color, in the field of writing.
In the words of Hillary Clinton, "It's hard to imagine yourself as something you don't see."

             

Notecards

"I'm here to paint selfies and fuck the patriarchy and I'm all out of paint."

"I don’t give a shit what the world thinks. I was born a bitch, I was born a painter, I was born fucked. But I was happy in my way. You did not understand what I am. I am love. I am pleasure, I am essence, I am an idiot, I am an alcoholic, I am tenacious. I am; simply I am…You are a shit." - Frieda Kahlo

             

This is one of my favorite quotes in itself. I will never be on the intellectual level of this random guy on twitter my friend from high school retweeted one time.

Violet Baudelaire is my favorite female character ever in a book fight me

"At times the world may seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe that there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough. And what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may in fact be the first steps of a journey." - Lemony Snicket

And a bonus from Lemony Snicket because he is my favorite male author... 

"One can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways."

Sassy Virginia Woolf says, "Suck it, men in general."

"I detest the masculine point of view. I am bored by his heroism, virtue, and honour. I think the best these men can do is not talk about themselves anymore."- Virginia Woolf 

How long do I have to gape before I'm a writer?

At the risk ofappearing foolish, a writer sometimes needs to be able to just stand and gape at this or that thing—a sunset or an old shoe—in absolute and simple amazement."- Raymond Carver

Charles Baxter has had it up to here with your "wisdom" nonsense.

"Too often, what passes for wisdom is someone's personal prejudice masquerading as truth." - Charles Baxter

Michelle Williams can hold up my ship any time... Wait, what?

 "I want to be like water. i want to slip through fingers, but hold up a ship." - Michelle Williams

In case I ever dare try to write another story about a straight white dude.

"There are no Jack Kerouacs or Holden Caulfields for girls. Literary girls don’t take road-trips to find themselves; they take trips to find men. "Great" books, as defined by the Western canon, didn’t contain female protagonists I could admire. In fact, they barely contained female protagonists at all." - Kelsey McKinney

Orwell and Swan Posts

I understand that this might be an unpopular opinion, but I don't care what Orwell thinks about writing as an art form. Just because someone uses big words doesn't inherently make them circumlocutious (a word which I'm sure Orwell, and apparently google, disapproves of, as it is most certainly a correctly spelled word though still has the infamous red underline). Furthermore, his harsh, judgmental, almost bored holier-than-thou tone and sweeping generalizations lend absolutely nothing to his argument and only give grounds to indefensible strawmen. He just sounds like the incredibly privileged conspiracy theorist who was in the right place at the right time that he is. I won't apologize for my harsh language choice, as it mirrors the style of Orwell's sacred opinion on writing. He speaks from absolutely no credibility, as being a professional writer gives you absolutely zero authority to say what is and is not good writing, as writing is incredibly multifaceted and there are certainly no two great works of literature that follow the same formula, and in writing there really are no true rules. Grammar itself is not a set in stone code, as some of the most famous writers in literature often make stylistic choices to ignore it (as much as e.e. cummings is not my cup of tea, there's no denying he's made his mark on the history of poetry). The real nail in the coffin in this piece of writing (after finally moving on from him calling the word "romantic" completely meaningless, and the word "objective" pretentious), when he asked, in reference to his spiel about metaphors, "What is a rift, for instance?" as if that's something that not every literate 12-year-old knows the answer to. In short, I gleaned nothing from this passage and am tired of overprivileged white guys telling me how to write which is an objectively ridiculous concept.

Note: In the post above I have taken special care to include at least one dying metaphor, meaningless word, pretentious word, and verbal false limb, and I'd be shocked if anyone even noticed, let alone wrote off the entire paragraph because I apparently broke every rule of holy Orwellian literature.

Conversely, the Gopen and Swan article actually make strides in analyzing the impact certain types of scientific writing have on the reader. Knowing extremely little about science (it was always my worst subject), and even less about scientific writing (why write about science when you could write about magic or feminism?) I feel that from this article I actually learned information I may not have thought about before about this unfamiliar genre of writing. Specifically, it drew parallels and made connections between reading and interpreting science and more traditional writing. As an extremely language oriented person, this piece even made me feel a little more comfortable with the idea of scientific reading, displaying it as something not completely foreign and inscrutable to us mathematically challenged learners, which I personally found very valuable.

HoMe

Although I have been here over a month, I am still waiting for Michigan to put the 'M' in "Home."

Of course there have been some highlights and great moments here...

But even meeting my high ultimate senior-year-of-high-school crush doesn't exactly detract from the feeling of being the smallest little Lita Fish in the world. While I feel that I have had many quintessential Michigan experiences (meeting someone who is almost 7 feet tall, for example), there are a few major differences between my expectations and the reality of life at a huge university.

I came from a high school with a graduating class of 60 people. I knew that I was making an adjustment, but this being only a fraction of my school, is a little overwhelming:

I never understood just how isolating it would be not knowing a single soul in this crowd coming here, especially with 65% having come from this state, and most of the people I've met knowing at least one or many people from their high school. 

Though all this still gives way to unbelievable homesickness from a girl with the most hometown pride of anyone she knows (especially with the Pirates going to the NLDS for the first time in 21 years - let's go bucs!!!) I know that I've only been here for a little bit and soon my black and yellow heart may bleed a little into the blue and yellow I know it longs to become.

After all, I've still got plenty of (Michigan) time.

My Revision Process

It is not an exaggeration when I say that it is extremely difficult for me to draft anywhere but a coffee shop, particularly Starbucks. I went to high school in a big city, meaning ample Starbucks, Coffee Trees, and various independent coffee shops were within ten minute walking distance of both of my parents' houses as well as my school. My house and my school were both very distracting places to work, surrounded by DVRs with all of my favorite shows recorded, my cat, and my bed at my house, and my friends and comfy lounge chairs at school, thus it was important to find somewhere semi quiet (I can't work in complete silence) to do all of my drafting and writing.

Essentially, my process is to sit down near an outlet (even remotely low battery on my laptop makes me anxious), order a venti soy coffee frappuccino light with a pump of sugar free hazelnut, and write what I call a "skeleton," which is essentially the barest bones of an essay - what my thesis is, and all the main points I'm using to support it with a tiny explanation for each. Next, I develop it into a real outline, adding specific details and organizing into an appropriate structure. Finally, I fill in all the blanks with connecting sentences, pointing to specific evidence, marking where I will put the quotes, and writing a real intro and conclusion. The last thing I do is add in the quotes, along with their explanations and analysis.

This process may explain why my so-called "first drafts" often resemble almost exactly my final drafts, though the final draft will hopefully be more polished in terms of organization, maturity, and sentence level errors. Rough drafts and final drafts often look similar in my work because the rough drafts require so many steps and are such a process to me, that by the time I write an actual readable essay for the first time, it has already been completely developed, as my coffee fueled process generally takes about an hour of work over three days, as I dislike working on the same piece of writing for more than about an hour at a time, especially as I run low on frappuccino (no matter how huge they are).