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Summary The Thing around your Neck

The Thing around your Neck

Free download É The Thing around your Neck Never once went and so could not receive Holy Communion she told the other parents that he had malaria on the examination day When he took the key of my fathers car and pressed it into a piece of soap that my father found before Nnamabia could take it to a locksmith she made vague sounds about how he was just experimenting and it didnt mean a thing When he stole the exam uestions from the study and sold them to my fathers students she shouted at him but then told my father that Nnamabia was sixteen after all and really should be givenpocket moneyI dont know whether Nnamabia felt remorse for stealing her jewelry I could not always tell from my brothers gracious smiling face what it was he really felt And we did not talk about it Even though my mothers sisters sent her their gold earrings even though she bought an earring and pendant set from Mrs Mozie the glamorous woman who imported gold from Italy and began to drive to Mrs Mozies house once a month to pay for it in installments we never talked after that day about Nnamabias stealing her jewelry It was as if pretending that Nnamabia had not done the things he had done would give him the opportunity to start afresh The robbery might never have been mentioned again if Nnamabia had not been arrested three years later in his third year in the university and locked up at the police stationIt was the season of cults on our serene Nsukka campus It was the time when signboards all over the university read in bold letters SAY NO TO CULTS The Black Axe the Buccaneers and the Pirates were the best known They may once have been benign fraternities but they had evolved and were now called cults eighteen year olds who had mastered the swagger of American rap videos were undergoing secret and strange initiations that sometimes left one or two of them dead on Odim Hill Guns and tortured loyalties and axes had become common Cult wars had become common a boy would leer at a girl who turned out to be the girlfriend of the Capone of the Black Axe and that boy as he walked to a kiosk to buy a cigarette later would be stabbed in the thigh and he would turn out to be a member of the Buccaneers and so his fellow Buccaneers would go to a beer parlor and shoot the nearest Black Axe boy in the shoulder and then the next day a Buccaneer member would be shot dead in the refectory his body falling against aluminum bowls of soup and that evening a Black Axe boy would be hacked to death in his room in a lecturers Boys uarters his CD player splattered with blood It was senseless It was so abnormal that it uickly became normal Girls stayed inside their hostel rooms after lectures and lecturers uivered and when a fly buzzed too loudly people were afraid So the police were called in They sped across campus in their rickety blue Peugeotrusty guns poking out of the car windows and glowered at the students Nnamabia came home from his lectures laughing He thought the police would have to do better everyone knew the cult boys hadmodern guns Ce texte fait r f rence une dition puis e ou non disponible de ce titreAffectingThe Africa in Adichie s collection isn t the Africa that Americans are familiar with from TV news or newspaper headlines Her stories are not about civil war or government corruption or deadly illnesses She is interested in how clashes between tradition and modernity familial expectations and imported dreams affect relationships between husbands and wives parents and childrenIn these stories which take place in Nigeria and the United States uestions of belonging and loyalty are multiplied several times over Her characters many of whom grew up in Nigeria and emigrated or saw their relatives emigrate to America find themselves unmoored many stumbling into danger or confusion Rather than becoming cosmopolitan members of a newly globalized world they tend to feel dislocated on two continents and caught on the margins of two cultures that are themselves in a rapid state of flux The most powerful stories in this volume depict immensely complicated conflicted characters many of whom have experienced the random perils of life firsthand Adichie demonstrates that she is adept at conjuring the unending personal ripples created by political circumstance at conjuring both the hard obvious facts of history and the soft subtle things that lodge themselves into the soul Michiko Kakutani The New York Times HauntingIn the first of these stories set in Nigeria and the U S a spoiled college student doing a stint in a Nigerian prison finds he can t keep silent when the police harass an elderly inmate In another what seems like an excellent arranged marriage is doomed once the bride joins her husband in Brooklyn and learns he s an overbearing bore And for the lonely narrator of the title story falling in love means the thing that wrapped itself around your neck that nearly choked you before you fell asleep is finally loosened Adichie a Nigerian who has studied in the U S writes with wisdom and compassion about her countrymen s experiences as foreigners both in America and in their changing homeland Here is one of fiction s most compelling new voices Vick Boughton People A People Pick Imagine how hard it must be to write stories that make American readers understand what it might be like to visit a brother in a Nigerian jail to be the new bride in an arranged marriage to arrive in Flatbush from Lagos to meet a husband or to hide in a basement waiting for a riot to subside wondering what happened to a little sister who let go of your hand when you were running How would it feel to be a woman who smuggled her journalist husband out of Nigeria one day and had her year old son shot by government thugs the next If reading stories can make you feelcaught between two worlds and frightened what would it be like to live them This is Adichie s third book and it is fascinating Characters many in their teens and early s feel a yanking on invisible collars as they try to strike out on their own Sometimes ties are cut by distance leaving a protagonist disoriented and aloneSometimes a lie or a death cuts the lines of trust that tie a character to the world they inhabit Most of Adichie s characters are alone adrift in a strange physical or emotional landscape These characters feel invisible erased They ca La France a table n°81 decembre 1959 anjou examination day When he took the key of my fathers car and pressed it into a piece of soap that my father found before Nnamabia could take it to a locksmith she made vague sounds about how he was just Le Guide de l'Anjou experimenting and it didnt mean a thing When he stole the Topo-guide des sentiers de randonnées - GR 26 GR 224 - Vallées et forêts de l'Eure : Evreux / Vernon / Pont-Audemer / Bernay / Verneuil-sur-Avre exam uestions from the study and sold them to my fathers students she shouted at him but then told my father that Nnamabia was sixteen after all and really should be givenpocket moneyI dont know whether Nnamabia felt remorse for stealing her jewelry I could not always tell from my brothers gracious smiling face what it was he really felt And we did not talk about it Even though my mothers sisters sent her their gold Les Mauges : Présentation de la région et étude de la prononciation earrings Saumur, terre d'Anjou even though she bought an Guide de Généalogie - en Anjou et Poitou-Charentes-Vendée earring and pendant set from Mrs Mozie the glamorous woman who imported gold from Italy and began to drive to Mrs Mozies house once a month to pay for it in installments we never talked after that day about Nnamabias stealing her jewelry It was as if pretending that Nnamabia had not done the things he had done would give him the opportunity to start afresh The robbery might never have been mentioned again if Nnamabia had not been arrested three years later in his third year in the university and locked up at the police stationIt was the season of cults on our serene Nsukka campus It was the time when signboards all over the university read in bold letters SAY NO TO CULTS The Black Axe the Buccaneers and the Pirates were the best known They may once have been benign fraternities but they had Anjou insolite evolved and were now called cults Patois et parlers d'Anjou eighteen year olds who had mastered the swagger of American rap videos were undergoing secret and strange initiations that sometimes left one or two of them dead on Odim Hill Guns and tortured loyalties and axes had become common Cult wars had become common a boy would leer at a girl who turned out to be the girlfriend of the Capone of the Black Axe and that boy as he walked to a kiosk to buy a cigarette later would be stabbed in the thigh and he would turn out to be a member of the Buccaneers and so his fellow Buccaneers would go to a beer parlor and shoot the nearest Black Axe boy in the shoulder and then the next day a Buccaneer member would be shot dead in the refectory his body falling against aluminum bowls of soup and that Petit Futé Châteaux de la Loire : Anjou Berry Sologne Touraine evening a Black Axe boy would be hacked to death in his room in a lecturers Boys uarters his CD player splattered with blood It was senseless It was so abnormal that it uickly became normal Girls stayed inside their hostel rooms after lectures and lecturers uivered and when a fly buzzed too loudly people were afraid So the police were called in They sped across campus in their rickety blue Peugeotrusty guns poking out of the car windows and glowered at the students Nnamabia came home from his lectures laughing He thought the police would have to do better Authion, jardin d'Anjou everyone knew the cult boys hadmodern guns Ce texte fait r f rence une dition puis Les guides bleus val de loire maine-orléanais touraine - anjou e ou non disponible de ce titreAffectingThe Africa in Adichie s collection isn t the Africa that Americans are familiar with from TV news or newspaper headlines Her stories are not about civil war or government corruption or deadly illnesses She is interested in how clashes between tradition and modernity familial La défence et illustration de la langue françoyse. édition critique publiée par henri chamard. expectations and imported dreams affect relationships between husbands and wives parents and childrenIn these stories which take place in Nigeria and the United States uestions of belonging and loyalty are multiplied several times over Her characters many of whom grew up in Nigeria and Architectes en pays basque 1920-1930 emigrated or saw their relatives Bateaux et gens du bassin d'Arcachon emigrate to America find themselves unmoored many stumbling into danger or confusion Rather than becoming cosmopolitan members of a newly globalized world they tend to feel dislocated on two continents and caught on the margins of two cultures that are themselves in a rapid state of flux The most powerful stories in this volume depict immensely complicated conflicted characters many of whom have Pyrénées, Aquitaine, Côte Basque experienced the random perils of life firsthand Adichie demonstrates that she is adept at conjuring the unending personal ripples created by political circumstance at conjuring both the hard obvious facts of history and the soft subtle things that lodge themselves into the soul Michiko Kakutani The New York Times HauntingIn the first of these stories set in Nigeria and the U S a spoiled college student doing a stint in a Nigerian prison finds he can t keep silent when the police harass an Sud-Ouest, porte des outre-mers : Histoire coloniale & immigration des suds, du Midi à l'Aquitaine elderly inmate In another what seems like an Présence de l'Allemagne à Bordeaux : Du siècle de Montaigne à la veille de la Seconde Guerre mondiale excellent arranged marriage is doomed once the bride joins her husband in Brooklyn and learns he s an overbearing bore And for the lonely narrator of the title story falling in love means the thing that wrapped itself around your neck that nearly choked you before you fell asleep is finally loosened Adichie a Nigerian who has studied in the U S writes with wisdom and compassion about her countrymen s Guides géologiques : Aquitaine occidentale experiences as foreigners both in America and in their changing homeland Here is one of fiction s most compelling new voices Vick Boughton People A People Pick Imagine how hard it must be to write stories that make American readers understand what it might be like to visit a brother in a Nigerian jail to be the new bride in an arranged marriage to arrive in Flatbush from Lagos to meet a husband or to hide in a basement waiting for a riot to subside wondering what happened to a little sister who let go of your hand when you were running How would it feel to be a woman who smuggled her journalist husband out of Nigeria one day and had her year old son shot by government thugs the next If reading stories can make you feelcaught between two worlds and frightened what would it be like to live them This is Adichie s third book and it is fascinating Characters many in their teens and Objectif Français : Le guide malin pour réussir ses devoirs early s feel a yanking on invisible collars as they try to strike out on their own Sometimes ties are cut by distance leaving a protagonist disoriented and aloneSometimes a lie or a death cuts the lines of trust that tie a character to the world they inhabit Most of Adichie s characters are alone adrift in a strange physical or GUIDE AQUITAINE emotional landscape These characters feel invisible La cuisine et la table au siècle d'Alienor d'Aquitaine erased They ca

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Free download É The Thing around your Neck CELL ONEThe first time our house was robbed it was our neighbor Osita who climbed in through the dining room window and stole our TV our VCR and the Purple Rain and Thriller videotapes my father had brought back from America The second time our house was robbed it was my brother Nnamabia who faked a break in and stole my mothers jewelry It happened on a Sunday My parents had traveled to our hometown Mbaise to visit our grandparents so Nnamabia and I went to church alone He drove my mothers green Peugeot We sat together in church as we usually did but we did not nudge each other and stifle giggles about somebodys ugly hat or threadbare caftan because Nnamabia left without a word after about ten minutes He came back just before the priest said The Mass is ended Go in peace I was a little piued I imagined he had gone off to smoke and to see some girl since he had the car to himself for once but he could at least have told me where he was going We drove home in silence and when he parked in our long driveway I stopped to pluck some ixora flowers while Nnamabia unlocked the front door I went inside to find him standing still in the middle of the parlorWeve been robbed he said in EnglishIt took me a moment to understand to take in the scattered room Even then I felt that there was a theatrical uality to the way the drawers were flung open as if it had been done by somebody who wanted to make an impression on the discoverers Or perhaps it was simply that I knew my brother so well Later when my parents came home and neighbors began to troop in to say ndo and to snap their fingers and heave their shoulders up and down I sat alone in my room upstairs and realized what the ueasiness in my gut was Nnamabia had done it I knew My father knew too He pointed out that the window louvers had been slipped out from the inside rather than outside Nnamabia was really much smarter than that perhaps he had been in a hurry to get back to church before Mass endedand that the robber knew exactly where my mothers jewelry wasthe left corner of her metal trunk Nnamabia stared at my father with dramatic wounded eyes and said I know I have caused you both terrible pain in the past but I would never violate your trust like this He spoke English using unnecessary words like terrible pain and violate as he always did when he was defending himself Then he walked out through the back door and did not come home that night Or the next night Or the night after He came home two weeks later gaunt smelling of beer crying saying he was sorry and he had pawned the jewelry to the Hausa traders in Enugu and all the money was goneHow much did they give you for my gold my mother asked him And when he told her she placed both hands on her head and cried Oh Oh Chi m egbuo mMy God has killed me It was as if she felt that the least he could have done was get a good price I wanted to slap her My father asked Nnamabia to write a report how he had sold the jewelry what he had spent the money on with whom he had spent it I didnt think Nnamabia would tell the truth and I dont think my father thought he would either but he liked reports my professor father he liked things written down and nicely documented Besides Nnamabia was seventeen with a carefully tended beard He was in that space between secondary school and university and was too old for caning What else could my father have done After Nnamabia wrote the report my father filed it in the steel drawer in his study where he kept our school papersThat he could hurt his mother like this was the last thing my father said in a mutterBut Nnamabia really hadnt set out to hurt her He did it because my mothers jewelry was the only thing of any value in the house a lifetimes collection of solid gold pieces He did it too because other sons of professors were doing it This was the season of thefts on our serene Nsukka campus Boys who had grown up watching Sesame Street reading Enid Blyton eating cornflakes for breakfast attending the university staff primary school in smartly polished brown sandals were now cutting through the mosuito netting of their neighbors windows sliding out glass louvers and climbing in to steal TVs and VCRs We knew the thieves Nsukka campus was such a small placethe houses sitting side by side on tree lined streets separated only by low hedgesthat we could not but know who was stealing Still when their professor parents saw one another at the staff club or at church or at a faculty meeting they continued to moan about riffraff from town coming onto their sacred campus to stealThe thieving boys were the popular ones They drove their parents cars in the evening their seats pushed back and their arms stretched out to reach the steering wheel Osita the neighbor who had stolen our TV only weeks before the Nnamabia incident was lithe and handsome in a brooding sort of way and walked with the grace of a cat His shirts were always sharply ironed I used to look across the hedge and see him and close my eyes and imagine that he was walking toward me coming to claim me as his He never noticed me When he stole from us my parents did not go over to Professor Ebubes house to ask him to ask his son to bring back our things They said publicly that it was riffraff from town But they knew it was Osita Osita was two years older than Nnamabia most of the thieving boys were a little older than Nnamabia and perhaps that was why Nnamabia did not steal from another persons house Perhaps he did not feel old enough ualified enough for anything bigger than my mothers jewelryNnamabia looked just like my mother with that honey fair complexion large eyes and a generous mouth that curved perfectly When my mother took us to the market traders would call out Hey Madam why did you waste your fair skin on a boy and leave the girl so dark What is a boy doing with all this beauty And my mother would chuckle as though she took a mischievous and joyful responsibility for Nnamabias good looks When at eleven Nnamabia broke the window of his classroom with a stone my mother gave him the money to replace it and did not tell my father When he lost some library books in class two she told his form mistress that our houseboy had stolen them When in class three he left early every day to attend catechism and it turned out he Recettes Gourmandes de l'Anjou each other and stifle giggles about somebodys ugly hat or threadbare caftan because Nnamabia left without a word after about ten minutes He came back just before the priest said The Mass is Anjou - touraine promenades a pied ended Go in peace I was a little piued I imagined he had gone off to smoke and to see some girl since he had the car to himself for once but he could at least have told me where he was going We drove home in silence and when he parked in our long driveway I stopped to pluck some ixora flowers while Nnamabia unlocked the front door I went inside to find him standing still in the middle of the parlorWeve been robbed he said in EnglishIt took me a moment to understand to take in the scattered room Even then I felt that there was a theatrical uality to the way the drawers were flung open as if it had been done by somebody who wanted to make an impression on the discoverers Or perhaps it was simply that I knew my brother so well Later when my parents came home and neighbors began to troop in to say ndo and to snap their fingers and heave their shoulders up and down I sat alone in my room upstairs and realized what the ueasiness in my gut was Nnamabia had done it I knew My father knew too He pointed out that the window louvers had been slipped out from the inside rather than outside Nnamabia was really much smarter than that perhaps he had been in a hurry to get back to church before Mass G.r. 3 / sentier de la loire, de l'anjou a la briere... endedand that the robber knew L'Anjou entre Loire et tuffeau exactly where my mothers jewelry wasthe left corner of her metal trunk Nnamabia stared at my father with dramatic wounded Curnonsky et Marcel Rouff. La France gastronomique, guide des merveilles culinaires et des bonnes auberges françaises. L'Anjou eyes and said I know I have caused you both terrible pain in the past but I would never violate your trust like this He spoke English using unnecessary words like terrible pain and violate as he always did when he was defending himself Then he walked out through the back door and did not come home that night Or the next night Or the night after He came home two weeks later gaunt smelling of beer crying saying he was sorry and he had pawned the jewelry to the Hausa traders in Enugu and all the money was goneHow much did they give you for my gold my mother asked him And when he told her she placed both hands on her head and cried Oh Oh Chi m La France a table n°81 decembre 1959 anjou egbuo mMy God has killed me It was as if she felt that the least he could have done was get a good price I wanted to slap her My father asked Nnamabia to write a report how he had sold the jewelry what he had spent the money on with whom he had spent it I didnt think Nnamabia would tell the truth and I dont think my father thought he would Le Guide de l'Anjou either but he liked reports my professor father he liked things written down and nicely documented Besides Nnamabia was seventeen with a carefully tended beard He was in that space between secondary school and university and was too old for caning What Topo-guide des sentiers de randonnées - GR 26 GR 224 - Vallées et forêts de l'Eure : Evreux / Vernon / Pont-Audemer / Bernay / Verneuil-sur-Avre else could my father have done After Nnamabia wrote the report my father filed it in the steel drawer in his study where he kept our school papersThat he could hurt his mother like this was the last thing my father said in a mutterBut Nnamabia really hadnt set out to hurt her He did it because my mothers jewelry was the only thing of any value in the house a lifetimes collection of solid gold pieces He did it too because other sons of professors were doing it This was the season of thefts on our serene Nsukka campus Boys who had grown up watching Sesame Street reading Enid Blyton Les Mauges : Présentation de la région et étude de la prononciation eating cornflakes for breakfast attending the university staff primary school in smartly polished brown sandals were now cutting through the mosuito netting of their neighbors windows sliding out glass louvers and climbing in to steal TVs and VCRs We knew the thieves Nsukka campus was such a small placethe houses sitting side by side on tree lined streets separated only by low hedgesthat we could not but know who was stealing Still when their professor parents saw one another at the staff club or at church or at a faculty meeting they continued to moan about riffraff from town coming onto their sacred campus to stealThe thieving boys were the popular ones They drove their parents cars in the Saumur, terre d'Anjou evening their seats pushed back and their arms stretched out to reach the steering wheel Osita the neighbor who had stolen our TV only weeks before the Nnamabia incident was lithe and handsome in a brooding sort of way and walked with the grace of a cat His shirts were always sharply ironed I used to look across the hedge and see him and close my Guide de Généalogie - en Anjou et Poitou-Charentes-Vendée eyes and imagine that he was walking toward me coming to claim me as his He never noticed me When he stole from us my parents did not go over to Professor Ebubes house to ask him to ask his son to bring back our things They said publicly that it was riffraff from town But they knew it was Osita Osita was two years older than Nnamabia most of the thieving boys were a little older than Nnamabia and perhaps that was why Nnamabia did not steal from another persons house Perhaps he did not feel old Anjou insolite enough ualified Patois et parlers d'Anjou enough for anything bigger than my mothers jewelryNnamabia looked just like my mother with that honey fair complexion large Petit Futé Châteaux de la Loire : Anjou Berry Sologne Touraine eyes and a generous mouth that curved perfectly When my mother took us to the market traders would call out Hey Madam why did you waste your fair skin on a boy and leave the girl so dark What is a boy doing with all this beauty And my mother would chuckle as though she took a mischievous and joyful responsibility for Nnamabias good looks When at Authion, jardin d'Anjou eleven Nnamabia broke the window of his classroom with a stone my mother gave him the money to replace it and did not tell my father When he lost some library books in class two she told his form mistress that our houseboy had stolen them When in class three he left Les guides bleus val de loire maine-orléanais touraine - anjou early La défence et illustration de la langue françoyse. édition critique publiée par henri chamard. every day to attend catechism and it turned out he

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie ´ 2 Summary

Free download É The Thing around your Neck N t go home They want to melt into America What would it be like to feel that sinister thing memory around your neck Perhaps you can imagine after all Susan Salter Reynolds Los Angeles Times Book Review Don t let Adichie s highbrow resume scare you away from her accessible and compelling short story collection Yes the year old Nigerian writer won a MacArthur Genius award But unlike many literary authors she eschews pretentious obscurity in favor of clarity In these stories set both in Nigeria and in the USA she touches on religion corruption Nigeria s civil war and living in America as a lonely African wife Mostly however she creates indelible characters who jump off the page and into your head and heart Deirdre Donahue USA Today Wonderfully craftedProse this skillful deserves international acclaim Insightful powerful and brimming with characters that seem to leap from the printed page this collection is nothing less than a literary feast Larry Cox Tucson Citizen The tensions embodied in the story Jumping Monkey Hill between fiction and autobiography the expectations of the observer and the experience of the witness not to mention the value of certain experiences in the global literary marketplacepractically seep through the pages of this collection As a whole it traces the journey Adichie herself has taken All her personhoods are represented here the sheltered child the vulnerable immigrant in Philadelphia and Brooklyn the foreign student adrift in a dormitory in Princeton the young African writer asked to objectify herself for an uncomprehending audience Ghosts in which an elderly professor in Nsukka meets an old colleague he assumed had died in the Biafran war is a nearly perfect story distilling a lifetime s weariness and wicked humor into a few pages Tomorrow Is Too Far a kind of ghostless ghost story delves beautifully into the layers of deception around a young boy s accidental deathAnd there is a whole suite of stories in which Adichie calmly eviscerates the pretensions of Westerners whose interest in Africa masks an acuisitive self flattering venality Adichie is keenly aware of the particular burdens that come with literary success for an immigrant writer a so called hyphenated American Though she strikes a tricky balanceexposing while also at times playing on her audience s prejudicesone comes away from The Thing Around Your Neck heartened by her self awareness and unpredictability She knows what it means to sit at the table and also what it takes to walk away Jess Row The New York Times Book ReviewAdichie belongs to the rare group of young writers whose wisdom sets them apart from writers of their age The Thing Around Your Neck once again showcases her insights into human nature under social ethical cultural as well as personal dilemmas In her notes about novel writing Elizabeth Bowen emphasized both the unpredictability and the inevitability of a character s actions Adichie s best stories are perfect examples of her masterful perception of these seemingly conflicting ualities within human nature I hesitate to use create as Adichie s characters don t feel as though they were merely created rather it is as if they were invited into the stories by the most understanding hostess and their dilemmas pains and secrets were then related to us by the hostess who seems to understand the characters better than they understand themselves who does not judge them and who treats them with respect and love and empathy that perhaps they would never have allowed themselves to imagine Reading On Monday of Last Week is like taking a journey of having one s heart broken in a foreign land yet it is not the foreignness of the land that brings the pain but the foreignness in any human heart In this and a few other stories about Nigerian women who have found themselves in America Adichie transcends the norm of immigrants stories and give the characters complexities that would be absent in a less masterful storyteller The Headstrong Historian a story that encompasses four generations of women and menachieves what a short story rarely does with a symphonic uality that one would only hope to see in a master s stories like those of Tolstoy Together these stories once again prove that Adichie is one of those rare writers that any country or any continent would feel proud to claim as its own Yiyun Li San Francisco Chronicle HauntingAdichie deploys her calm deceptive prose to portray women in Nigeria and America who are forced to match their wits against threats ranging from marauding guerillas to microwave ovens The devastating final piece The Headstrong Historian seems to carry the whole history of a continent in its bones tragic defiant revelatory Michael Lindgren The Washington Post Like those of Jhumpa Lahiri whose work bears a notable resemblance to Adichie s the characters of The Thing Around Your Neck are caught between past and present original and adopted homelands America is a land of yoga classes drive through banks and copious supermarket carts but it is also a surprisingly unsatisfactory promised landa place where half truths and buried secrets that form a life are ruthlessly exposed Here also is Nigerian life seen from the outside the perspective of the American immigrant the memory tourist the second class gender They are the stories of those whose tales are not told Adichie deftly accesses the privileged mindsets of her Nigerian characters who stubbornly insist on believing that they are to be protected from the worst Her Americans are outsiders clamoring to be let into society her upper class Nigerians are insiders clamoring to be let out of history It would have been so easy for him one narrator observes on the occasion of her brother s release from prison to make a sleek drama of his story but he did not Nor does Adichie who prefers ambiguity and a certain abruptness of tone to the carefully raked garden paths of other writers Whether these stories reflect the writer s own experiences only Adichie knows That they reflect the lives of her countrymen there can be no doubt Saul Austerlitz Boston Sunday Globe There are various ways writers can be ambitious but in our era they are often judged to be so only if their prose is c Ce texte fait r f rence une dition puis e ou non disponible de ce tit

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  • Format Kindle
  • 300
  • The Thing around your Neck
  • Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
  • Anglais
  • 06 February 2018
  • 0007306210