Things Fall Apart (Everyman's Library)

One of the best books I've ever read, in my top five of all time, and I'm an English professor, so you know I've done some reading. I believe I read it in a matter of two or three hours the first time because I was desperate to know what was going to happen to Okonkwo and his kin with the invasion of European colonization. Do not be put off by what you may have heard about the violence and/or cruelty; there are a few parts where the content is a little rough, but the unflinching lack of sentimentalism - the matter-of-fact tone - makes the events tolerable. I teach a lot of folks who are older teens/early twenties, and honestly, I don't think this is a book that should be taught in high school or at the undergrad level because I think it actually helps to have some life behind you when you read it for the first time. If I knew in advance (which I never do) that I was going to have a class full of people over thirty, I would use it in a class without question. I would also say it's a must-read for men because of its powerful depictions of the conflicts between fathers, sons, and just male kinship relationships in general. Achebe also gives great insight into two strong powerful female characters, his second wife and one of his daughters, even though they have a minimal amount of page time.

For a while I have wanted to write a review for this book, but I chickened out so many times because no matter what I write I will never be satisfied. This should show how important this book is to me as a Nigerian. I can no longer avoid the daunting task of reviewing it, but I'll be brief. It's part 1 of an epic tale by Chinua Achebe and it's fiction, but it's also historical. Lots of books have been written about colonization in Nigeria but this is, by far, my favorite. I'll always be grateful to Achebe for writing this book in addition to others. I highly recommend it to all and may his precious soul continue to rest in peace.

In this deceptively slim and elegantly written book there are at least three stories.One is a story of traditional African village life and culture in full detail (including a glossary of African terms). This story begins late in the pre-colonial period, and occupies at least two-thirds of the book before moving almost imperceptibly into another story, that of the way in which the village people deal with the arrival of Christian missionaries and the eventual establishment of colonial authority (in this case, British).It is also a life story of Okonkwo, a traditional African warrior of that time and culture. As Okonkwo matures and moves through early adulthood, the reader learns about the events in his life that shape the man he eventually becomes.In one respect, this could be considered just another chapter in the tale of how Christianity served as seeming helpmate to European colonization of not only Africa but many natives of the New World. In this story, however, there are certain signs of early tolerance and attempts at mutual understanding. Later attitudes harden when the tolerant head of the local church is replaced by someone much more stiff-necked, setting in motion a train of events leading ultimately to tragedy.For a story so simply told and without any real complicated plot twists, there are lots of interesting things to think about. Suggestions:- The story seems short on details concerning the way in which colonial power is established—one day the whites are barely worth mentioning in marketplace chatter, and almost overnight, their presence seems to have changed almost everything. But perhaps this is exactly the way in which that story would be told from a villager’s perspective.- Tolerance is a major issue even today. Yet the villagers seemingly become victims of their own tolerant attitudes about the missionaries. If they had rejected them from the beginning, and had not allowed them to stay, things might have come out differently. By the time they recognized the destructive influence these beliefs had on their own lives, it was too late.- After a church burning, the colonial district commissioner gives village leaders a speech about the justice system the British have brought them. However, this justice system is not in evidence at that time; instead, what is visited on those leaders is summary “justice” by the commissioner, followed by corruption on the part of his henchman as their penalty is raised even further.An amazing little book with so much packed into it and so much to think about.

This was a novel that I looked forward to reading, but it just didn't touch me, either intellectually or emotionally. The writing is beautiful and the story unfolds like a fable, but not a very memorable fable. The main character, Okonowo, a tribal chieftain, is not an admirable or particularly interesting person. He is brutal, full of himself and not very complex. His actions are predictable and never surprise you and you feel absolutely nothing when his inevitable downfall comes late in the novel. None of the other characters in the novel stand out and the female characters seem poorly developed. There are endless discussions in the novel about the cultivation and economics of yams. I don't get why the author spent so much time discussing yams. The novel was short and read quickly, so I don't regret giving it a try. Not liking something you read is the sign that you have at least have some sense of taste.

Achebe's debut novel, first published in the late 1950s, was one of the first major English-language works by an African author, and is notable for depicting the life of a "primitive" community from the point of view of an insider.Taking place in a fictional Nigerian village, at some point during the Victorian era, it is the tale of Okonkwo, a proud, alpha-male patriarch, who is brought down when his age-old values and beliefs come up against Western attitudes, with the arrival of Christian missionaries and colonial governors.Achebe is unsentimental about the more brutal and irrational aspects of African traditionalism (e.g. twins being seen as cursed), but once one grows accustomed to his studiedly unadorned style and the unapologetically insular perspective, one finds oneself utterly involved. Re-reading it after many years, I was struck both by the tragic inevitability of its hero's downfall, and the even-handedness of the story-telling.Its reputation as one of the most significant novels of the 20th century is certainly merited.

Okonkwo is determined not to be like his drunken, feckless father. Through hard work, he gains an honoured place in his Ibo village as a yam grower with three wives and several children. As we follow what happens to him, we will learn about the ways and traditions of his people, and of how the coming of the white man changed them irrevocably.The thing is that Achebe’s depiction of those ways and traditions are so appalling that I found myself completely on the side of the colonisers, not a place I either expected or wanted to be! The perpetual beatings of wives and children paled into insignificance when compared to the frequent killings for no reason at the behest of the many seemingly cruel and unjust gods worshipped and feared by the people. Centuries of farming tradition and yet they hadn’t worked out any methods of crop irrigation or protection, leaving them entirely at the mercy of the elements and of those pesky gods. The customs of deciding that some people should be treated as outcasts for no discernible cause and, even worse, of throwing twins out at birth to be left to die in the open made me feel that anything had to have been better than this. Come the colonisers, and with them education, healthcare, and a religion that taught of a loving god, gave a place to the outcasts and saved the lives of the abandoned twins – sounds good to me! And that makes me feel bad, because of course I really ought to be up in arms about the iniquities of the colonisers, oughtn’t I?I really struggled for at least half of this quite short book. It’s quite repetitive and although it’s certainly revealing and, I assume, honest about the life and traditions of the village, there’s very little in the way of story. I must say Achebe surprised me, though. I knew nothing about him except that he called Conrad a “thoroughgoing racist” for his portrayal of colonisation, and I assumed therefore that he would show the Africans in a positive light. I admire him, therefore, for not taking that easy route and instead giving a very harsh and unromanticised portrayal of life before the colonisers arrived. I suspect his real argument with Conrad was probably that Conrad often leaves the “natives” at the periphery of the picture, as if they are merely props on a stage set for the star actors in his dramas, the white men, and I certainly would agree with that assessment though I wouldn’t agree that that makes him racist. Achebe reverses this, putting the Africans as the central stars, with the colonisers having merely walk-on roles, and this has apparently influenced generations of African writers ever since the book was first published in 1958, making them realise the possibility of telling their own stories.The story picks up in the second half, once the colonisers arrive. We see the mix of missionary and soldier, one trying to change the Africans through the influence of Christianity, the other controlling them at the point of the gun. We see any form of violent resistance met with a wholly disproportionate response, and the newly installed justice system being used as a thin veneer to camouflage total dominance. We see misunderstandings caused by a failure of each to attempt to understand the other’s culture, and those misunderstandings often escalating to murder or massacre. Again, Achebe doesn’t make this entirely one-sided. While obviously the military might of the colonisers is by far the greater, he shows that many of the Africans are attracted to the things they offer, whether that be a better life or simply the pleasure that comes from being on the side of the more powerful, especially to those who have been treated as outcasts by their own society.Through Okonkwo and the older villagers, we see their despair at the destruction of the old ways, and from a male perspective I could certainly sympathise with that. But from a female perspective, I couldn’t help but feel that the women would have had less to regret – on the basis of Achebe’s depiction, they lacked all political power and had little influence even in the domestic sphere, not to mention the accepted tradition that husbands ought to beat their wives regularly. (Not, of course, that that tradition was exclusive to Africans...)I can’t say I wholeheartedly enjoyed it, either for the very bleak portrayal of the life of the Africans, nor for any particular literary merit. It is well written but not exceptionally so and the structure makes it feel rather unbalanced, with what story there is all happening towards the end. What makes it stand out is the rare centrality of the Nigerian people in their own story, and the, to me, unexpected even-handedness with which Achebe treats both Africans and colonisers. For those reasons, and because it’s considered an African classic by the “father of African literature”, I’m glad to have read it.

Things Fall Apart goes beyond being a story or providing insight on what happened as colonialism took root. It makes the reader a member of the village and enlightens the reader with a visceral understanding of what could not be understood at the time (and for many who still seem to forget how Britian became an Empire).I really like how it doesn't paint the villagers/villages as one homogeneous group as is the tendency of textbooks. The very ending is superb. Highly recommend.

A story, in three parts, of the impact of both religious and political colonisation on traditional Africa, viewed through the life of Okonkwo, a strict, hardworking and successful traditionalist.The first part is about Okonkwo growing up and the way of life (all aspects, including beliefs, traditions, societal structures, divisions of labour and even food) in a traditional southern Nigerian village. It ends with Okonkwo, due to a tragic accident, being exiled from the village for seven years and moving with his immediate family to the village his mother came from.The second part, covering the seven years of Okonkwo’s exile, sees the arrival of the “white men”, initially a soft approach by Christian missionaries, seeking converts, and, subsequently, colonial government, gradually imposing British laws and justice on the indigenous people.In the third part, Okonkwo returns to his home, at the end of his seven years of exile, to find that everything has changed, with the missionaries and colonial government firmly ensconced and telling Okonkwo’s people that everything about their religion, culture and traditions is wrong and has to change. The colonisers toughen up their approach, leading to a clash of cultures and religions and, ultimately, disaster.This is a powerful and compelling read; it is not an easy read, not least because of frequent use of Ibo language and concepts and traditions which are not fully explained, but is certainly a rewarding one, giving a strong and clear view of the impact of colonisation from the perspective of the colonised.

With this first book of Achebe's trilogy, we get a glimpse of what his society and culture was like before the European colonialists invaded his country.The story is set in the Nigerian village of Umuofia in the late 1800's. Most of the book revolves around the main character Okonkwo whose biography portrays village life at the time, the rules and customs of Nigerian culture and it's the stark contrast between those patriarchal structures that later clash with the Christian world view of the European invader. Since their culture is based on history and tradition, the shock with a different religion is catastrophic.It's a fascinating story because with my modern feminist eyes I cannot endorse many of the condescending views men then had about girls and women in general. However, it's very thought-provoking and at times devastating.