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?!