(Chinua Achebe, 1959)

I’ve been a part of a book club at my office for about 6 months now, and of the books we’ve read in that time, this is by far my favorite. What stood out most to me was the struggle of the main character, Okonkwo, — who I can’t help but think may have inspired, if only a little, Star Trek’s Worf — to stabilize the ever-teetering relationship between the voice of what he calls his chi, or personal god, and the will of the grander gods that his culture pays tribute to. The battle of choosing when to fight openly against personal disgraces and when to relinquish responsibility to one’s faith is at the very heart of this story. Add to that themes of masculine vs. feminine, the nature of violence and fear, and the politics of cultural and religious homogenization and you’ve got yourself a masterpiece, honey!

Beautifully written as if transcribed word-for-word from the mouth of a tribal African orator yet through the mind of a Greek poet, I think everyone can find something to appreciate about this book. So read it you crazy bitches!!

Notable excerpt:

A man who calls his kinsmen to a feast does not do so to save them from starving. They all have food in their own homes. When we gather together in the moonlit village ground it is not because of the moon. Every man can see it in his own compound. We come together because it is good for kinsmen to do so.