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Episode Notes Hi its Ada. I hope you are taking good care of yourself and doing well. In this episode, I will be reviewing Kintu by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi. Ok, guys 2 quick things you have brought to my attention which I'll address real quick. First I know I usually say the author’s full name throughout all the episodes but it’s intentional to you know put respeck on their name as is spelled out on the book cover. My thinking is that that’s how the author wants to be addressed. And that’s that. I”m not gonna call them Jennifer or Angie or Abubakar or Zinzi.  We’re not bffs. It’s really that simple. Something else that I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not is I usually avoid mentioning if the book is award winning or whatever. And it’s not to diminish the award or a failure to acknowledge. After all that information is publicly available anyway. The reason I try to avoid mentioning awards or literary prizes where possible is to refrain from making any false distinctions between award winning books and otherwise. Because while awards are incredible especially for minority writers. Awards bring more publicity to the book. Just like you know an oscar winning movie, gets more attention and viewership. Or in the case of books, more readership. People make buying decisions around prizes and awards and all that great stuff. So awards are extremely helpful for writers, especially less visible, minority writers. They can use all the visibility they can get. Also the awards come with considerable monetary compensation which is phenomenal for writers because writing is not like your typical 9-5 guaranteed income stream. Umm look at me. I’m podcasting. So, overall back to my point is that while awards are extremely useful and in many cases, actually necessary, and trust me, I’d love to win a couple of them, but honestly to me, awards are not the final or comprehensive determiner of what makes good literature. Literature like all other forms of art is subjective.  There are so many magnificent books out there that could go toe to toe and even surpass award winning books by a clear mile. So that’s the reason I don’t bring awards up. Unless of course it’s mine. To me, great literature is great literature, whether or not it’s award winning. So, let’s start as we typically do with a teaser of what Kintu by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi is about. Kintu is an intergenerational epic saga set in Uganda. So guys yeah, we off to Uganda in this episode. East Africa, baby! Quick sidebar. My claim to fame with Uganda is I was on a flight once that stopped in Entebbe airport to refuel and pick up passengers. So I’ve been on Ugandan soil  or maybe more accurately, a Ugandan tarmac. Anyway this book kicks off in 1750 in the kingdom of Buganda (so the pre-colonial Uganda) Here we meet Kintu, after whom this book is obviously named. Kintu is a powerful and wealthy man, He is the Ppookino or governor of the Buddu province within the Buganda kingdom and is married to identical twins. Kintu has a lot of children, many of whom are twins. And he also adopts a boy, Kalema,  who is the child of a Tutsi immigrant, Ntwire, who lives in  their community. Kintu loves Kalema just like he does his biological children but something happens between Kintu and Kalema. And in response Ntwire, the Tutsi immigrant aka Kalema’s biological father, I hope you’re following this?, lays a curse on Kintu and his future generations. And so the book follows the manifestation of the curse on Kintu’s descendants.  As I was reading this novel, very early on I saw the obvious influence of Chinua Achebe's seminal Things Fall Apart. And not because of the pre-colonialism aspects of Kintu but also because of that pivotal relationship between Okonkwo and Ihemefule in Things Fall Apart echoed in the relationship between Kintu and Kalema. Are you guys still following me?  My suspicions were confirmed on page 312 where the author references Things Fall Apart as a work that is being explored as a sociological study by one of the characters. So it felt good to be right haha So let’s talk about what I loved about Kintu. The scale of this novel is grand. If this novel were a building it would be a stately manor. This book runs over 400 pages with about 20something major characters. I’m not gonna lie, when I bought the book and saw it ran 400 pages in small print, I was nervous because I didnt wanna spend that much time reading a book I wouldn’t enjoy. I’ll post a picture of my copy on social media so you’ll see what I mean. At over 400 pages it felt daunting to even start but I’m glad I did. It was compulsively readable, a page turner. Like I mentioned, this novel is intergenerational, spans several descendants of Kintu, the breadth of the novel is formidable. But in the hands of this writer, it was never an unwieldy beast. From Pages 1 to 410, Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi was always in charge. She never lost control of her story or characters. It was terrific. This is the type of novel of such an impressive scale that challenges me in my own writing to squeeze myself for more juice, for more story to be told.  This is the book that I wish that Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi was. Have you guys read Homegoing? Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi was also intergenerational but to me the descendant stories didn't feel connected. And I get that you could totally argue that Homegoing was about the disconnect, to say the least, that happened because of the transatlantic slave trade. However, the biggest frustration that I had with Homegoing was that  it felt to me like a book of short stories, like a collection of vignettes, and not a cohesive novel. Homegoing got a lot of really great accolades and it did have its shining moments and I loved a few of the stories, it had a great theme, but overall I personally found it to be underwhelming.I think it got a lot of buzz because it was an issue book. Listen to Episode 1 for my fuller  take on issue books. But  although Kintu is not about the transatlantic passage, I just think Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi’s ability to tell that really good story of generations of Africans interrupted by European influence (in Kintu’s case, colonialism) is just so masterfully done here. This novel is divided into 6 books. Also, I loved, loved, loved, did I say loved, Book I. Book I covers the first 15 chapters. These chapters are where we meet Kintu, his complicated family, and also watch him execute his duties as governor of Buddu province in service to the kabaka, that is the king of Buganda. These 15 chapters of Book I were chef’s kiss, superb. I rarely reread books but I’ll reread these chapters again at some point. And I think what was particularly impressive is that the  author balances the plottings of Kintu’s household on one hand, and the political machinations that happen at the kabaka’s palace with such jaw-dropping finesse.  For me these were the best parts of Kintu by far. Beautiful, beautiful work. Thirdly, all of the different descendants of Kintu that appear in this novel are all very well done, fleshed out, very solidly three-dimensional, they arrive on the page with a history,  you get to pay witness to their current lives and peek into where they're headed. It is so very well done, it’s an outstanding achievement of a novel that Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi has written. So, lemme talk about the writing for a moment. Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi writes with such exhilaration and pride. In Kintu, she tells the story of a country through its people. The writing doesn't try hard, it’s not self conscious. It is both masterful and unpretentious at the same time. I’ll read you a few examples of her sentences to illustrate why I mean by masterful yet unpretentious. On page 123, “when there is no one to remind you of who you are, then you belong” you see how profound that sentence is but also like humble at the same time? Here’s another example from the next page 124 “who strangled the toothpaste?” one word, strangle, that successfully captures what the ordinary person would describe as squeezing from the middle of the tube. And one more example from page 228, “From then on the disease accelerated - night sweats, fevers, fatigue, a funny rash on the left arm, sometimes her mind went and her feet hurt. She suffered from this, that, and everything. Then her weight dropped. Before we knew it she had lost her hair. Then her feet hurt so much, I put her in a wheelchair. From the wheelchair, Nnayiga hopped into the coffin.”  So I thought this was so well done because it was about the tragedy of a prolonged illness. But there is an effortless humorous affect to the passage. Also,  I hope you didn’t miss the irony of someone who lost their ability to walk but still hopping into death. The author has a wry sense of humor which I appreciate. Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi’s insights on colonialism are so incredibly keen. On page 314, she writes. But before I read it, just for context the passage I’m gonna read is about a character named Miisi. Miisi is an intellectual who was raised by colonial-era missionaries, Irish priests who raise Miisi in such a manner that degrades and dehumanizes everything that’s African.The Irish missionaries imbue themselves with a pseudo Messianic nature. You know we’re here to save the savages and bring Christ to the heathens. So Miisi comes to associate whiteness with goodness, godliness,intelligence and he imagines that Europe must be heaven. And so that's the kind of effective brainwashing that the white, European missionaries did on Miisi who ingests these messages and even grows up being grateful to the colonialists for saving him from his savagery and heathenism. At some point later on in his life Miisi goes to Britain to study for a PhD and in the process of studying and living in Britain he finds that British people do not exactly fit the illusion the colonialists brainwashed into him. And in response to the dismantling of this false reality he’s carried all of his life, Miisi builds for himself instead an idealized Wakandaesque narrative of Africa. So with this background and context, I’ll read you the quote on page 314."The image Miisi had constructed in Britain of the noble African rooted in his cultural values and shunning Westernization was a myth. What he returned to were people struggling to survive, who in the process had lost the ability to discern vivid colors of right and wrong. Anything that gave them a chance to survive was moral. To make matters worse people around him including his family called him muzungu. Miisi had become European among his people.” Moving along, so Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi also writes against the backdrop of key historical events in Uganda’s post colonial life. One of them being the rise and fall of Idi Amin. While Idi Amin has never featured too much in my political consciousness, the author resurrects him and makes the reader rethink what they think they know of Idi Amin. He has been widely painted as a wild cannibalistic tyrannical despot. And I’ve never before questioned this caricature of him. But Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi for the first time made me step back and reconsider who has been responsible for painting Idi Amin in such colors? Western media. It’s sad how I never questioned the caricature of Idi Amin. I’m sure he was tyrannical and perhaps unhinged as most depots tend to be. But who created the conditions for an Idi Amin to rise? Who revels in the narrative of the savage cannibalistic African? Those are the questions we should be asking. And we know the answers. Overall, this book is a mic drop, a feat, an achievement. It's the kinda book if a random stranger by way of conversation as Americans tend to do, were to ask Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi, what she does, you know like hey girl hey Jennifer nice to meet you what do you do and then Jennifer can be like THAT while pointing to Kintu. She can die happy knowing she wrote this novel and accomplished something astounding. And I don't use astounding flippantly. So there it is, you guys. That is what I loved about Kintu by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi. But before I launch into what I didn’t like quite as much, here is a message from my sponsor. Stay with me. Welcome back to the Misty Bloom Book Club. Thank you for hanging with me. So let’s jump into what I didn’t care for about Kintu. I hated the prologue. I felt like the novel should have started with Chapter 1, Kintu’s story. So the prologue was a narrative of the grisly, violent murder of one of Kintu’s descendants. It was impactful in the sense that for the novel’s opening it grabbed your attention but it left me with a very bad taste in my mouth that took me a good while to shake off. For me, there was no literary merit to the outright violence. It was disconcerting and felt like it was done for shock value and I always find shock value to a cheap ploy.   Also the prologue had your classic,almost  paint by numbers style MFA writing. I even googled to see if Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi had an MFA and she does. While MFA writing is good writing don’t get me wrong, but it feels the same to me, I can spot it anywhere, churned out from the same creative writing workshops and factories and for that reason it feels soulless to me. So I was immediately disappointed starting this novel. But I was so glad I stuck with it  and I didn’t have to wait long at all because the tides quickly turned on Chapter 1. But basically I didn’t care for the prologue. Okay so moving along, So let’s talk about the character, Miisi. On one hand Miisi is vehemently intellectual, you know an atheistic, cerebral and rational person who is out of place and sticks out like a sore thumb in the village because of his you know intellectualism. But Miisi also has visions and has some metaphysical experiences. And while I do think people can be both, I don’t think the author did a great job of reconciling the two aspects of Miisi. Miisi himself, the staunch atheist rationalist does not interrogate these opposites within himself. It was not believable at all.  Also, Miisi arrived late in the book and we spend the final 16, yes you hear that right, 16  chapters on this guy. I was sick of him. He was cool for like 2 or 3 chapters tops but I did not find him to be particularly interesting or fascinating for 16 chapters so I got tired pretty quickly reading about the character, Miisi.  And here’s a tip for new or aspiring writers. Please do not introduce important characters late in your novel. Bring them on board early on or in the middle somewhere. Otherwise the reader, like me in this case is constantly questioning the character’s significance instead of focusing on the story. It’s very distracting. Also when you delay introducing us to a character who has a very important role to play in your story, they end up not feeling like real people but like plot devices. It’s very deus ex machina. Imagine meeting Jon Snow for the first time ever in Season 6. I found two typos in this book. I think finding a rare typo is super cute. I forgot to log what the first typo I found was. But I smiled when I encountered the second one. The second one I found was on page 335 and it reads "Miisi changed subject.” Did you catch that? Miisi changed subject not Missi changed the subject  I find typos like that to be cute in the sense of someone forgetting to fix their collar or a strand of hair is out of place. Of course like everyone else I don't want to see typos galore, typos everywhere. It’s horrible, that’s not cute, it’s poor quality control but seeing the odd, rare one or two throughout the book is super cute. I don't know it. It just makes me smile. Those imperfections are sweet and it feels relatable you what I mean. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just weird. Ok, finally the ending was a jumbled mess of a resolution. It was similar to how I felt reading the ending of The Hate U Give. The writing itself, in terms of artistry was still fantastic. But it was the cramming of too much into the final chapters, the author’s manic dedication to giving all of the characters a resolve. It was an exhausting note to end on. Another tip for writers, watch your pacing, please. It’s like being a conductor of an orchestra. All of the musicians and instruments can’t all be playing at the same tempo during the crescendo. So that’s what I didn’t care for about Kintu. Let’s turn now to guessing who Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi is like. But before I do that, here is a super quick message from my sponsor. Stay with me. Welcome back to the Misty Bloom Book Club. Thank you for hanging out with me. So, what do I think Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi is like? I think she is a person of integrity, the kind of person whose word you can rely on. But also expects the same in return and will hold people accountable to what they’ve said they’re gonna do. I also think she is a hardworking, grounded, sensible type individual. So that’s my guess of who Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi is. If you know her, let me know if I pegged her correctly or got it wrong. Final thought, I profusely, enormously loved Kintu. It’s freaking epic in the truest, most authentic sense of the word, epic. If you’re in the mood for a novel that straddles the traditional and the modern in the vein of Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, definitely check out Kintu. Support Misty Bloom Book Club by donating to their Tip Jar: https://tips.pinecast.com/jar/mistybloombookclub Find out more at https://mistybloombookclub.pinecast.co

Episode Notes Hi its Ada. I hope you are taking good care of yourself and doing well. In this episode, I will be reviewing Kintu by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi. Ok, guys 2 quick things you have brought to my attention which I'll address real quick. First I know I usually say the author’s full name throughout all the episodes but it’s intentional to you know put respeck on their name as is spelled out on the book cover. My thinking is that that’s how the author wants to be addressed. And that’s that. I”m not gonna call them Jennifer or Angie or Abubakar or Zinzi.  We’re not bffs. It’s really that simple. Something else that I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not is I usually avoid mentioning if the book is award winning or whatever. And it’s not to diminish the award or a failure to acknowledge. After all that information is publicly available anyway. The reason I try to avoid mentioning awards or literary prizes where possible is to refrain from making any false distinctions between award winning books and otherwise. Because while awards are incredible especially for minority writers. Awards bring more publicity to the book. Just like you know an oscar winning movie, gets more attention and viewership. Or in the case of books, more readership. People make buying decisions around prizes and awards and all that great stuff. So awards are extremely helpful for writers, especially less visible, minority writers. They can use all the visibility they can get. Also the awards come with considerable monetary compensation which is phenomenal for writers because writing is not like your typical 9-5 guaranteed income stream. Umm look at me. I’m podcasting. So, overall back to my point is that while awards are extremely useful and in many cases, actually necessary, and trust me, I’d love to win a couple of them, but honestly to me, awards are not the final or comprehensive determiner of what makes good literature. Literature like all other forms of art is subjective.  There are so many magnificent books out there that could go toe to toe and even surpass award winning books by a clear mile. So that’s the reason I don’t bring awards up. Unless of course it’s mine. To me, great literature is great literature, whether or not it’s award winning. So, let’s start as we typically do with a teaser of what Kintu by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi is about. Kintu is an intergenerational epic saga set in Uganda. So guys yeah, we off to Uganda in this episode. East Africa, baby! Quick sidebar. My claim to fame with Uganda is I was on a flight once that stopped in Entebbe airport to refuel and pick up passengers. So I’ve been on Ugandan soil  or maybe more accurately, a Ugandan tarmac. Anyway this book kicks off in 1750 in the kingdom of Buganda (so the pre-colonial Uganda) Here we meet Kintu, after whom this book is obviously named. Kintu is a powerful and wealthy man, He is the Ppookino or governor of the Buddu province within the Buganda kingdom and is married to identical twins. Kintu has a lot of children, many of whom are twins. And he also adopts a boy, Kalema,  who is the child of a Tutsi immigrant, Ntwire, who lives in  their community. Kintu loves Kalema just like he does his biological children but something happens between Kintu and Kalema. And in response Ntwire, the Tutsi immigrant aka Kalema’s biological father, I hope you’re following this?, lays a curse on Kintu and his future generations. And so the book follows the manifestation of the curse on Kintu’s descendants.  As I was reading this novel, very early on I saw the obvious influence of Chinua Achebe's seminal Things Fall Apart. And not because of the pre-colonialism aspects of Kintu but also because of that pivotal relationship between Okonkwo and Ihemefule in Things Fall Apart echoed in the relationship between Kintu and Kalema. Are you guys still following me?  My suspicions were confirmed on page 312 where the author references Things Fall Apart as a work that is being explored as a sociological study by one of the characters. So it felt good to be right haha So let’s talk about what I loved about Kintu. The scale of this novel is grand. If this novel were a building it would be a stately manor. This book runs over 400 pages with about 20something major characters. I’m not gonna lie, when I bought the book and saw it ran 400 pages in small print, I was nervous because I didnt wanna spend that much time reading a book I wouldn’t enjoy. I’ll post a picture of my copy on social media so you’ll see what I mean. At over 400 pages it felt daunting to even start but I’m glad I did. It was compulsively readable, a page turner. Like I mentioned, this novel is intergenerational, spans several descendants of Kintu, the breadth of the novel is formidable. But in the hands of this writer, it was never an unwieldy beast. From Pages 1 to 410, Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi was always in charge. She never lost control of her story or characters. It was terrific. This is the type of novel of such an impressive scale that challenges me in my own writing to squeeze myself for more juice, for more story to be told.  This is the book that I wish that Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi was. Have you guys read Homegoing? Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi was also intergenerational but to me the descendant stories didn't feel connected. And I get that you could totally argue that Homegoing was about the disconnect, to say the least, that happened because of the transatlantic slave trade. However, the biggest frustration that I had with Homegoing was that  it felt to me like a book of short stories, like a collection of vignettes, and not a cohesive novel. Homegoing got a lot of really great accolades and it did have its shining moments and I loved a few of the stories, it had a great theme, but overall I personally found it to be underwhelming.I think it got a lot of buzz because it was an issue book. Listen to Episode 1 for my fuller  take on issue books. But  although Kintu is not about the transatlantic passage, I just think Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi’s ability to tell that really good story of generations of Africans interrupted by European influence (in Kintu’s case, colonialism) is just so masterfully done here. This novel is divided into 6 books. Also, I loved, loved, loved, did I say loved, Book I. Book I covers the first 15 chapters. These chapters are where we meet Kintu, his complicated family, and also watch him execute his duties as governor of Buddu province in service to the kabaka, that is the king of Buganda. These 15 chapters of Book I were chef’s kiss, superb. I rarely reread books but I’ll reread these chapters again at some point. And I think what was particularly impressive is that the  author balances the plottings of Kintu’s household on one hand, and the political machinations that happen at the kabaka’s palace with such jaw-dropping finesse.  For me these were the best parts of Kintu by far. Beautiful, beautiful work. Thirdly, all of the different descendants of Kintu that appear in this novel are all very well done, fleshed out, very solidly three-dimensional, they arrive on the page with a history,  you get to pay witness to their current lives and peek into where they're headed. It is so very well done, it’s an outstanding achievement of a novel that Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi has written. So, lemme talk about the writing for a moment. Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi writes with such exhilaration and pride. In Kintu, she tells the story of a country through its people. The writing doesn't try hard, it’s not self conscious. It is both masterful and unpretentious at the same time. I’ll read you a few examples of her sentences to illustrate why I mean by masterful yet unpretentious. On page 123, “when there is no one to remind you of who you are, then you belong” you see how profound that sentence is but also like humble at the same time? Here’s another example from the next page 124 “who strangled the toothpaste?” one word, strangle, that successfully captures what the ordinary person would describe as squeezing from the middle of the tube. And one more example from page 228, “From then on the disease accelerated - night sweats, fevers, fatigue, a funny rash on the left arm, sometimes her mind went and her feet hurt. She suffered from this, that, and everything. Then her weight dropped. Before we knew it she had lost her hair. Then her feet hurt so much, I put her in a wheelchair. From the wheelchair, Nnayiga hopped into the coffin.”  So I thought this was so well done because it was about the tragedy of a prolonged illness. But there is an effortless humorous affect to the passage. Also,  I hope you didn’t miss the irony of someone who lost their ability to walk but still hopping into death. The author has a wry sense of humor which I appreciate. Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi’s insights on colonialism are so incredibly keen. On page 314, she writes. But before I read it, just for context the passage I’m gonna read is about a character named Miisi. Miisi is an intellectual who was raised by colonial-era missionaries, Irish priests who raise Miisi in such a manner that degrades and dehumanizes everything that’s African.The Irish missionaries imbue themselves with a pseudo Messianic nature. You know we’re here to save the savages and bring Christ to the heathens. So Miisi comes to associate whiteness with goodness, godliness,intelligence and he imagines that Europe must be heaven. And so that's the kind of effective brainwashing that the white, European missionaries did on Miisi who ingests these messages and even grows up being grateful to the colonialists for saving him from his savagery and heathenism. At some point later on in his life Miisi goes to Britain to study for a PhD and in the process of studying and living in Britain he finds that British people do not exactly fit the illusion the colonialists brainwashed into him. And in response to the dismantling of this false reality he’s carried all of his life, Miisi builds for himself instead an idealized Wakandaesque narrative of Africa. So with this background and context, I’ll read you the quote o

Episode Notes Hey guys, how are you doing? I hope you're taking good care of yourself and doing well.  In this episode, I will be reviewing What It Means When A Man Falls From The Sky by Lesley Nneka Arimah. Are you ready? Cos I am. Let’s go clubbing! This book is a short story collection. So first things first, before I launch into my review, I’m gonna tell you about my beef with short story collections. I don't typically read them. And the reason I don’t read short stories is because I don't feel like I get enough time with the characters or enough time to sink my teeth into the character’s stories before I'm being dragged off into another story. It feels like speed dating. And for this reason Short story collections have always felt unsatisfying to me. So I usually avoid them.  Something else that I don't like about short stories, is that usually not always, but usually the endings never give any resolutions. So I'm speaking of a true resolution though not the resolution that I want. Let me explain. For example, I, just like most people, typically yearn for a happy ending to stories. But even where I don't get a happy ending, I want some sort of closure. So even where I don't get the happy ending that I want I will admire the alternative ending. I respect the alternative ending. I will think that it's brave of the author to choose the alternative ending. I may even concede that the alternative ending was the better ending. But on the other hand, I also think it is cowardly for a writer to choose no ending, to leave the story unresolved. And I feel like short story writers are typically guilty of this and short stories give writers a cop out from any sort of true ending or closure. Short story writers are notorious for jumping off the story and leaving you hanging with some intentionally esoteric ending, with some fill in the blanks with your own ending. Personally I find it gutless, weak, pathetic and I don't see anything to be admired with a lack of resolution in storytelling. And short stories are often guilty of this. So there’s my rant and now that’s out of the way. But first I’ll give you a teaser of the book. The stories tackle domestic abuse, untreated ptsd and its effects on a family, troubled teenagers, ghosts, domestic and sexual abuse. So this review is going to be a little bit different than the reviews of novels. Because this is a short story collection so we are not following the same characters from beginning to end, we're not following the same narrative arc, the themes change from story to story, and so forth.  So here’s what I loved about What It Means When A Man Falls From The Sky. Fortunately in what it means when a man falls from the sky, most of the stories are well resolved. This does not mean Happy Endings or Bad Endings it just means there's closure. Most of the stories don't leave you intentionally hanging by the end. What It Means When A Man Falls From The Sky is gorgeously written. The author's sentences are so economical it's a thing of stunning beauty. Lesley Nneka Arimah says the most with the least possible amount of words. I'll read from the first story called The Future looks good  and this is from on page 2. But before I read it, the context here is that a step mother puts a boy out of his home. Got it? Ok here we go… "The boy is 15 and returns from the market to find his possessions in two plastic bags on the front door step, he doesn't even knock to find out why or to ask where he's supposed to go but squats with other unmothered boys in an abandoned half-built bungalow where his two best shirts are stolen and he learns to carry his money with him at all times. He begs, he sells scrap metal, he steals, and the third comes so easy to him it becomes his way out. He starts small, with picked pockets and goods snatched from poorly tended market stalls. He learns to pick locks, to hotwire cars, to finesse his sleight-of-hand." See how she very quickly describes how this boy is abandoned by his parents and forced to become scrappy and street smart. It is So tightly done. there was not a spare, extra word. For example if you contrast this against Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens. There's a huge chunk of the novel Oliver Twist where Charles Dickens spends a lot of his prose talking about how the Artful Dodger and Fagin teach Oliver how to become a pickpocket. A good good chunk of Oliver Twist is spent on what Lesley Nneka Arimah spends on a paragraph. Of course I understand that there are differences, one is novel and the other is a collection of short stories, and that in economizing your prose you sacrifice other things like character development and developing a fuller story for instance. But i still think my comparison between the two examples for the purposes of making my particular point about economy of words, holds. Or check this out on page 24 in the 3rd story titled Wild, but before I read the sentence I'd like to set the stage. Here we have a mother who's at her wit's end with her badly behaved daughter and she has had enough.. And so here goes the sentence. Enough had started with stupid teenage things that, magnified under the halo of Chinyere my well-behaved cousin made me a bad bad girl. So here's why i think this sentence is pretty great and that the writer's use of economy of words is so ridiculously good is because of how she introduces us to a new character Chinyere a well-behaved cousin and then uses just one word halo, to fully establish and develop this character. Halo is suggestive of as you know an angelic, saintly person and then when contrasted against the main character that this short story is about, you know the one whose mother has had enough, helps us understand more fully their personalities in so few words. Or how about  one more example on page 25 still on the same story. "My mother was a small woman who carried her weight in her personality." Do you see how, tight and powerful that sentence is? basically, that short sentence tells us the mother is a small sized person with an outsized personality. These sentences are so good and I feel like they gleam because they are scrubbed of anything unnecessary. No superfluous adjectives no unnecessary adverbs. And let me tell you applying restraint as a writer is an extremely difficult thing to do and this author has honed this skill well. Something else I also loved about what it means when a man falls from the sky is that The stories are short and snappy, like a flash of electricity. The stories are short but emotionally complex and layered. They hold an explosive power like dynamite. Like boom boom pow. I mentioned in episode 2 of the Misty Bloom Book Club the observational skills that a writer must possess and the reason it matters is because life is the ultimate inspiration for any writer. Now in this book on page 61 in the story titled light there's a sentence I thought was just so profound and I'll read it to you. " this starts another argument between husband and wife, mild at first, but then it peppers and there is this thing that distance does where it subtracts warmth and context and history and each finds that they're arguing with a stranger." I'm not going to interpret the meaning of this sentence for you. All I'll say is that the sentence is stellar because it does show off the author's observational skills, how she deconstructs the anatomy of an marital argument but what is most important here is the ability to not only observe but to translate the moment and articulate it into seemingly effortless wisdom. So great job, Lesley Nneka Arimah.  I often mention how metaphors are effective tools for great storytelling so there's this line on page 61 that reads "the girl holds a grudge as well as she holds water in her fist". A lesser author could have easily written the girl was terrible at holding grudges but that would not have come off as commonplace and much less impactful. Also this metaphor of a fistful of water or lack thereof conjured up an image, that was effective in describing the girl's carefree temperament, and also read as original. The economy of sentences is not just important for its own sake but it also forces the reader to participate within the story so that it feels more immediate and really captures your attention and emotions. Check out this line from page 71 on the fifth story Second Chances so I'll read this so it starts out by saying, "after my mother died, I spent a few months in a place where they spooned food and medication into me." The reason I select the sentence is because it just very sparsely talks about being in this facility because obviously if you are being spooned food and medication it's some sort of facility where a third party is doing these things to you most likely a medical professional but I think this an an excellent example of participating with the prose so even though the sentence says enough it doesn't say a lot so as a reader, I'm forced here to fill in the blanks here with you know the medical professional, with it being a facility. I am forced to generate emotions associated with someone  who needed to be in a facility because of the tragic passing of a parent, someone who needed to be spoon-fed because circumstances have left them unable to do it for themselves. Therefore the tragedy feels heavier because sufficient little is said which forces me to participate in the story by filling in the blanks with my own imagination and feelings about the situation. The 6th story, Windfalls was crushing. It is written in the second person. and by second person I mean you. I've never been convinced that writing in the second person had any sort of merit whatsoever. I've been adamant against any writer ever exploring writing prose using the second person. I've never thought of it as a sustainable way of telling a complete story but this story, windfalls, and Lesley Nneka Arimah have convinced me otherwise. However I still have to say that in using the second person, you, I never got to know the characters names. And I think putting a name to someone helps you feel like you're connected in a way to that person. And without having a name of any of the ch

Hi! This is Ada, I  hope you‘re taking good care of yourself and doing well. So guys, I'm so proud to be taking you on this lit global journey with me and I can’t wait to go even more places with you. It’s only episode 4. And we’ve been to inner city US, northern Nigeria, South Africa, and today, we're returning to America. Native America that is. So, in this episode, I’ll be talking about Lakota Woman by Mary Crow Dog.  You ready? Lets get into it.  So, Lakota Woman is Mary Crow Dog’s memoir . And if you remember from episode zero, I mentioned that in the Misty Bloom Book club I would be reviewing mostly fiction and on rare occasions would consider nonfiction. So I guess today is the rare occasion. It came early. This book reminded me a tiny little bit of Born A Crime by Trevor Noah. Not at all in terms of style or substance. They are very dissimilar in those regards because Born A Crime is Trevor Noah’s account of growing up in apartheid South Africa while Lakota Woman follows Mary Crow Dog’s story as an activist fighting for the rights of Native Americans. But my comparison here is in terms of Mary Crow Dog and Trevor Noah being compelling storytellers, not professional writers. And so for that reason I'm not going to do a typical review of Lakota Woman. I feel like how do you qualitatively assess or critique somebody's lived experience. You really can't judge it, you know what I mean?  And also these are people, Mary Crow Dog and Trevor Noah just trying to tell us an honest story of oppression, all that matters is that these are stories that we should all be paying attention to and be provoked into positive actions. They are not trying to be professional writers so it feels dishonorable to critique their style of writing. So, I'm just not gonna do it.  Instead I'll take a different approach and just chat with you about the book, okay? I think a great place to start this conversation is to ask who is a Native American? Because that's a question that always seems to keep popping up in public discourse.  And Mary Crow Dog answers this question. She says, "I should make clear that being a full blood or breed is not a matter of bloodline, or how Indian you look or how black your hair is. The general rule is that whoever thinks, sings, acts, and speaks Indian is a skin, a full blood and whoever acts and thinks like a white man is a half blood or breed, no matter how Indian he looks." This book covers Mary Crow Dog’s life in the seventies and it’s interesting how 30, 40 years later people still try to claim a Native American heritage even though they do not think, sing, act, or speak like a Native and do not have familiarity with native traditions. I wonder what Mary Crow Dog would have thought of today's world where people benefit from and will fully exercise not being seen in the world as Native but will claim being Native when it's convenient and profitable. So your classic case of eating your cake and having it too. I’ve seen that happen where the majority of their existence in society is as an oppressor because of course, of the privileges attached to whiteness and then they switch over to oppressed when they wanna benefit from a minor advantage of their native heritage. So basically wanting to participate in the scarce wins but participate in zero of the struggle, pain and bloodshed that has to occur for those tiny wins. I've seen people do this. I find it to be pretty dark and disturbing.  But moving along, I also wanna say that it felt like a treasure and a privilege to read this book. I felt like Mary Crow Dog was like letting me or us, since y’all are listening to this, into a sacred people and tradition that we do not deserve to know about but she is generous enough to share her people’s customs with us. In this case, obviously Lakota which is part of the Sioux people.  Each chapter in this book starts with a saying or a poem or the lyrics of songs by select Native American people. Chapter 8 for example starts with what appears to be the first verse of a poem by a young man from Eagle Butte. And it goes like this, "I knew when I brought my body here, it might become food for the worms and magpies. I threw my body away before I came here." This verse brought tears to my eyes, broke my heart and it feels like desecration to even attempt to dissect it because the verse has said all that needs to be said. And the verse lays bare that even though this book is Mary Crow Dog's story it is also a chronicle of Native American suffering. And that is the proper place to start the conversation.  This book covers the systematic stealing of indigenous lands by white settlers, the forced sterilization of Native Women including the author’s sister. It recounts the organized erasure of the native customs, and traditions, the introduction of poverty, addiction, and hopelessness into Native life. So it's both a story of a people and a person. Lakota Woman starts out on the Rosebud Indian reservation in South Dakota where Mary is raised by her grandparents in a loving but extremely poor home, a shack with no electricity or indoor plumbing. The grandparents try to raise the author and their other grandchildren as Catholic and to adopt White culture and norms for practical reasons, you know, to make it possible for their grandchildren to survive in the world beyond the reservation. But it is also heartbreaking where the author reveals that her grandparents still subconsciously turn to some of the traditional ways to find healing because the old ways is their truth, you know. At some point Mary Crow Dog is forced by the government to go to boarding school where they employ inhumane methods in unsuccessfully forming her into a good white Catholic girl. The memoir also recounts her time as a young adult trying to find herself in the world, roaming the United States with a band of other footloose and fancy free Native youth also trying to find their place in a world that’s been stolen from them. As a sentence in the book reads, “He had himself wrapped up in an upside down American flag, telling us that every state in this flag represented a state stolen from Indians.” It’s honestly overwhelming to even think about the depravities that America thrust upon and continues to do to Native America.  But anyway, during their youthful, aimless wanderings, Mary Crow Dog and her merry band of Natives of course suffer police brutality and violence from random racists. It is during this time Mary Crow Dog becomes exposed to AIM, A.I.M which is the American Indian Movement. So her memoir also follows her activism in the AIM movement some of which includes historically significant actions like the March  in Washington DC as well as the siege at Wounded Knee. Thereafter, Mary Crow Dog or Mary Ellen Brave Bird at the time marries Medicine Man and civil rights leader, Leonard Crow Dog. And she becomes a mother wife and the stepmother all at the same time, at the ripe old age of, wait for it? 18! So Mary Crow Dog lived a lot of life in one. But anyway. towards the end, a significant part of Lakota Woman also follows Mary’s time as a wife fighting for the release of her husband, Leonard Crow Dog, when he’s imprisoned for his activism. In this book, Mary Crow Dog spends a lot of time talking about how Native Americans are intentionally and systematically pushed out of society with little to no access to jobs, education or opportunities, the loss of their language, traditions, and ceremonies, the stripping of who they are as a people and them having to turn to alcohol to you know deal with the trauma that their lives have become. And in this book she addresses how alcohol becomes a coping mechanism because people often say things like oh you can pull yourself up by the bootstraps, oh why don't you want better for yourself. And there's a line that took my breath away and it's on page 54 “people talk about the Indian drinking problem but we say it is a white problem. White men invented whiskey and brought it to America. They manufacture, advertise and sell it to us. They make their profit on it and cause the conditions that make Indians drink in the first place.” It’s the same thing today. Go to the hood, same situation, same conditions, flooded with liquor stores, pun intended.  Moving along, remember I mentioned earlier that Mary Crow Dog joined AIM, the American Indian Movement? Well, there's a line on page 74 which I thought was really very insightful and articulates what I’ve always thought about activism and its effects on an activists’ lives. Here it goes, “I recognize now that movements get used up and the leaders get burned out quickly. Some of our men and women got themselves killed and thereby avoided reaching the dangerous age of 30 and becoming elder statesmen." This is why I have the utmost regard for activists. They live a principled life and they pay dearly for it, because it is marred with great sacrifice and suffering. Secular martyrs. And while we are on this, here is a quick plug. Please be supportive of and kind and generous to an activist. Also, this book made me reconsider the meaning of Thanksgiving in a new way. While I’ve always known Thanksgiving to be a troublesome holiday, and that’s understating it, I don’t think I realized the breadth of the pain it represents to Native Americans. I'm gonna read a short paragraph from page 75. By the way, this is the author's first encounter with AIM, the American Indian Movement. On page 75 she writes "he talked about not celebrating Thanksgiving, because that would be celebrating one's own destruction. He said that white people, after stealing our land and massacring us for 300 years, could not now come to us now saying celebrate Thanksgiving with us, drop in for a slice of turkey." So yeah. Okay, so I found something very interesting on page 77, where Mary Crow Dog says, and this is relative to the American Indian Movement, “we took some of our rhetoric from the blacks, who started their movements before we did. Like them we were minorities, poor and discriminated against, but there were differences. I think it's significant that in many Indian languages a b

Hey hey hey, it's Ada. how are you doing? I hope you're taking good care of yourself and doing well. In this episode of The Misty Bloom book club I am going to be reviewing What We Lose by Zinzi Clemmons. You ready? Let's go into the clubhouse. Before I launch into my review of what we lose by Zinzi Clemmons, I want to talk a little bit about honesty. So grab your coffee, water, wine, whatever your drink of choice is, sit back and relax. Because it's about to get real. So there's this great advice that I’ve seen floating around the internet. I’ve seen two versions of the same advice and I don’t know who to originally attribute the quotes to but if you do know, let me know. Okay, so the first quote is truth without love is brutality. And the second quote is honesty without compassion is cruelty. So both of these quotes are essentially saying the same thing. And it's stuck with me because honesty is a virtue. And that is unquestioned. We are taught from a young age not to lie, to always speak truth to power, we are taught honesty is the best policy. There's no negotiating honesty. We should all strive for honesty as one of the greatest virtues to pursue and practice. However, honesty is not an excuse for us to hurt people. You know in the exercise of being blunt there's no need for us to administer blunt force trauma. There has to be a way, and I'm learning this as well, to be honest without inflicting harm on someone. So finding a balance between being honest and truthful but also couching the honesty and truth in the way that minimizes harm. So why am I bringing this up? No, I'm not taking a detour from talking and being about books to becoming a virtue guru. Although if that pays more I might reconsider. I still want everyone, including myself, to be kind. It makes for a better world and a gentler existence when we're all kind to each other. But the reason I was bringing up the whole honesty and truth cruelty brutality thing is because I thought about perhaps not doing reviews for books that I didn't enjoy reading but I also think that's completely unrealistic. You know, sort of pandering to the whole if you have nothing nice to say don't say anything at all. Which to me can sometimes be a cowardly piece of advice in my opinion because it is taking the path of least resistance. If you're willing to do the work you can always find something nice to say. It's a little bit passive and kinda wack to just absolve yourself of the responsibility of saying nothing at all. Rather than plumbing the depths to finding the good about someone or a situation. Also the podcast would start to come across as fake because after a while you'd notice that I love absolutely everything that I read. Which is impossible. Life is not just a pond of lilies. It would not give The Misty Bloom Book Club any sort of dimension, I would not be a reliable source of literary commentary, critique, or appreciation. You guys are smart. You would pick up on the artifice that I'd be putting out. And even as a published author, I'm still growing and always learning to be a better writer and seeing the work of others, where their novels shine and where they fail, helps to sharpen my own craft. And the bottom line is that it is immature to avoid conversations that are difficult or uncomfortable. And, like you, I also want to challenge myself to be honest without being brutal. So now that I've given you my whole spiel on honesty and brutality, let me start my review of What We Lose with a quick and dirty overview. See what I did there? What We Lose is written in the first-person, the I, and follows Thandi who's born and raised in Pennsylvania to a South African mother and an American father. Partway through the novel, Thandi’s mother is diagnosed with cancer and very unfortunately passes away. And the novel transforms into a meditation on dealing with terminal illness, grief, and loss. So going into what we lose by Zinzi Clemmons, I had high hopes for the book. And the reason I had such high hopes is because the writer Zinzi Clemmons. Ok, hold on let's talk about her name for a second. I love her name, Zinzi, by the way. It just sounds glorious and she has the coolest initials. Zee Cee baby. Zee Cee in da building!!!. Anyway Zinzi Clemmons is part South African and part African-American so I was looking forward to getting her extremely unique and distinctive perspective on race and race relations. You know with her coming from this dual heritage that's very loaded on both sides with very different but both extremely intense race histories and that's putting it mildly. And no I'm not putting this burden on Zinzi Clemmons to talk about race. You guys know exactly how I feel about black and minority writers being forced to take on social issues. If not, go listen to Episode 1 of The Misty Bloom Book Club where I talk about this in a little bit more detail. I had this expectation for Zinzi Clemmons to address race issues not because of her heritage. But because the actual book jacket describes the protagonist of What We Lose, Thandie, as being caught between being black and white. So there you go. The first thing I thought about What We Lose is that this novel, for me read like a memoir or maybe even more accurately a non chronological diary. Or maybe a fusion of all these things together. Like part novel part memoir part diary. Which I thought of as an unconventional approach to creative writing. I totally saw what the author was trying to do here. Zinzi Clemmons took what we know of as the conventional novel, you know the traditional approach to crafting a novel and turned it on its head. It had like untitled mini chapters under chapters, there are graphs included in the book, it is wildly non-chronological, there is some philosophy thrown in, there are expositions on South Africa. With What We Lose, the author attempted to do something inventive. But not just trying to be inventive for its own sake. I saw very clearly that the unorthodox structure Zinzi Clemmons adopted for this novel is meant to reflect that grief is not linear or a tidy emotion. The emotions of grief are all over the place. Grief is disorganized. Your feelings are a jumbled mess. Your memories of the person you lost switch back and forth between the recent past and way way back. And the non-chronological narrative choice of What We Lose reflects this. And I always respect when anyone is truthfully and doggedly pushing the boundaries of what we think is possible. It was certainly brave of Zinzi Clemmons to attempt to do something innovative here. Like I said earlier taking what we know of as the orthodox approach to novel writing and turning it on its head. And I respect Zinzi Clemmons for writing What We Lose in the manner that she felt was best suited to this story. I'm gonna speculate that Zinzi Clemmons would have come up against some resistance so it must have taken guts to push forward with and fight for a novel structured in this manner. Aside from that, What We Lose had some profound moments. And I'll give you some examples. I really liked the part of the book where Thandi's father is moving on and finding a new relationship after the death of his wife. And Thandie is understandably resistant to her father moving on from her mother. And I'll read the scene to you from page 164. "I want to be happy again" he says, his voice breaking. "Don't you think I deserve happiness?" "of course, I say." you deserve much more than that. I only wish I could be okay with what form of happiness you've chosen." That right there is a pearl of wisdom that I want you to think about in your life. For example I think many of us are not really resistant to other people finding happiness. We only question their methods for doing so. Whether or not is our business to do so but it's something to definitely think about. There was one line I really liked on page 145 and it reads "I realized that that was how heartbreak occurred. Your heart wants something but reality resists it." So true, you guys! So true. I also like this paragraph from page 182. It reads “Love and marriage are completely unrelated enterprises. Marriage bears little resemblance to love as competing in the Olympics does to your afternoon jog. Sometimes I think with regret of how our love might have grown if we hadn't driven a pregnancy, then a marriage, like two speeding 18-wheelers straight into it.” I mean that right there is a lot of food for thought. I also liked this line on page 185, “Peter sighs, reaches for the pacifier, and pops it nervously into M's mouth, as if our child is a bottle of champagne threatening to explode.” I thought that was a fun sentence. Here’s another great line page 206. It reads, “sometimes I sniff the bottle of perfume of hers that I saved, but it doesn't come close to the robustness of her smell. It is her, flattened.” It is a heavy sentence and it made me sad. I think the sentence was so effective because we associate smell with memories and nostalgia so I think that's what was so profound about this particular sentence. So those are the things that I appreciated about What We Lose. Now, I'm gonna flip the script and talk about what I didn't like quite as much about What We Lose by Zinzi Clemmons. But before I do that here is a quick message from my sponsor. Don't go anywhere. Welcome back to the Misty Bloom book club thanks for staying with me. So now I'm going to talk about what frustrated me about What We Lose So, overall, I'm going to admit that I struggled with What We Lose. Sadly, it didn't hit the spot for me. And I hate that it didn't because like I said earlier, I had such high hopes for this book. However, I wouldn't call what I didn't like about the book as weaknesses per se. But I see this more as a cataloging of my frustrations with the What We Lose. What We Lose totally was a worthy and admirable attempt at being experimental and innovative with fiction However and ultimately for me. I’m sorry. it just didn't work. While I wholeheartedly understood that the author was making a deliberate eclectic artistic choice, I struggled with the way the book was structured. I mentioned that it had like untitled mini chapters und

Hi guys, this is Ada, I hope you’re taking good care of yourself and doing well. So welcome members of the Misty Bloom Book Club to your first bonus episode. You guys make it possible for me to keep this podcast alive so thank you and enjoy. You deserve this. By the way bonus episodes are ad-free because you guys already make the episode possible with your sponsorship so thank you again. So far this season, we’ve made pit stops in inner city America, northern Nigerian, south Africa and you guys, I thought you know what? Let’s escape the world entirely for a little while, there's a pandemic ravaging the world so we deserve this escape. So in this bonus episode, as you know, I’m gonna be reviewing Circe by Madeline Miller. <insert cheers> 44.7And because you guys are members it’ll be even more fun to do this review because you have the reading list and have probably already read Circe... [become a member of the Misty Bloom Book Club for more...] Support Misty Bloom Book Club by donating to their Tip Jar: https://tips.pinecast.com/jar/mistybloombookclub Find out more at https://mistybloombookclub.pinecast.co

Welcome to the Misty Bloom Book Club! Hi, it's Ada. Hope you're taking good care of yourself and doing well. We’re on episode 2 already? Can you believe it? Thanks for sticking with me. It’s just gonna get better and better. In this episode I will be reviewing Season Of Crimson Blossoms by Abubakar Adam Ibrahim. Let’s get into it! So the reason I selected this book was because I wanted to read a book by a northern nigerian author. Perhaps you know this already, but umm, most of your best known Nigerian authors, including yours truly, are southeners. This novel, Season of Crimson Blossoms is set in northern nigeria against the backdrop of Hausa culture and Islamic conventions of behavior. So this totally fit the bill. Let’s start with a summary. Season of Crimson Blossoms follows a forbidden romance between 55 year old Binta, a respectable Muslim widow and Reza, the local weed dealing overlord who also moonlights as a political thug. And clearly, with this taboo type relationship there’s bound to be drama, shenanigans, secrets, lies, implications and consequences for not only Binta and Reza, but also for their families, and for the wider community. So I was excited to see how this would all play out. But before I dive into my review, let me introduce you properly to Binta and Reza to help contextualize the rest of my review. I’ll start with Binta. Like I said, Binta is a widow. She's tragically lost her husband and her first born son to socio political circumstances which are endemic to Nigeria and maybe even particularly the northern nigerian experience. The book interestingly is set sometime during the first ever attacks by the Boko Haram terrorist group and there are some references to that happening in the background. But anyway back to Binta. She lives with her 8 year old granddaughter, Ummi, love that name, Ummi, and her 16 year old niece, Faiza whose father and brother were murdered in one of the many religious riots that plague northern nigeria. On the other hand, Reza, Binta’s lover is also a victim of a society that quite frankly and sadly sees him as disposable and has thrown him away. He is a 25 year old criminal with serious mommy issues. And I’ll talk about that a little bit later. Ok, let’s just jump into what I thought was successful about this novel. First thing - This is an accomplished novel and does not read like a debut effort. Abubakar Adam Ibrahim is a writer who's not an amateur. He is not new to this. The author came across as fully formed, self assured, and has a clear and unhesitating perspective. To me, the author shows off prose that is observant and thoughtful and there is a maturity to the writing. This novel contains some beautifully written prose which I will read to you to underscore what I’ve just said. For example on page 123, the author writes, "...the two bus drivers were standing by the door, arms hanging by their sides. One was Yoruba and the other Kanuri, but Reza thought they looked alike; the same worn faces, the same sweat-stained jumpers, and the same strained eyes. Occupational siblings." What I just read shows off the author's strong observational skills and appropriate use of metaphor which separates amateurs from professionals. A second strength of this novel is the interrogation of Hausa and Islamic norms. For example, this novel explores a custom in which mothers are disallowed from calling their firstborn children by name or being affectionate toward them. Or even acknowledging their later born children. This is a custom that I'd never heard of and I found myself upset by it and responding viscerally to it. But it was also very intriguing. And I loved that the author interrogated this part of the culture while also handling it with tenderness. love love loved it. It gave not only a deeper insight into this dare I say questionable custom but it also has real consequences for the characters' lives. I appreciated that the author didn’t use this custom as a device to make his novel appear cool. You know what I mean? You know how people do that? Throw in something that has a novelty appeal to compensate for being boring or other weaknessnesses in their storytelling. In this case, the tradition served a purpose which was to explain the motivations of the characters and propel the story forward. For me, it was one of the most moving parts of the story. No pun intended haha. Guys, I really liked Reza. He is a very well drawn, sympathetic character. He makes questionable choices no doubt and does some really bad things. But you know, it's in the nature of a rogue to also be charming and I think the author did an amazing job with infusing this character with equal parts compassion and charisma without shying away from the moral complexities that Reza presents. In this book, the author does a great job with balancing out Reza. I mean, it's just like any other human being, we're never just one thing. Reza is the kind of character, the kind person on the fringes of society, most middle-class people who read literary fiction like season of crimson blossoms and yes, I'm calling out myself and dragging all of you who are listening to this too. Reza is the type of person we will probably never interact with in our lifetimes so shout out to Binta for defying social norms. And I think it's important to feature characters like Reza in fiction so that middle-class people are forced to humanize the types of people they would typically avoid, ignore, or even recoil from. In my opinion, fiction has a responsibility to tell the truth and the author tells this truth well. Thirdly, I enjoyed the realism of the novel. I felt a sense of place, a strong sense of the characters, their foods, their routines and habits, desires, their pain. Their interactions all felt very authentic and genuine. The novel did not at all feel false or artificial. It all felt real, like I was transported into their town and paying witness to their lives. There was a strong sense of realism woven throughout the novel. It was very well done. Last but not least, I also thought the author's use of pacing and suspense as literary devices was pretty sharp. I liked how the author would delay revealing the character’s motivations for withholding significant information. It set me up for a greater expectation of more to come. Which is what every writer should be aiming to do with their readers. So two thumbs up to Abubakar Adam Ibrahim for doing this so well. So that's it in terms of the major strengths of the book. But before I dive into what I thought was a little less successful about this novel here's a quick message from my sponsor. Welcome back! Thanks for staying with me. So let's pivot to the less successful aspects of this novel. Cons First, the tone of the writing felt a little too serious to me. It wasn't so bad, however, as to deter me from continuing to read. It kind of reminded me a little bit of how I felt reading Water Dancer by Ta-Nehisi Coates. In Season of Crimson blossoms there’s no playfulness or lightness to the prose. No air, no space to move and play. The only glimpses of humor are to be found at the beginning of a few of the chapters. Each chapter in the book starts with a proverb. For example Chapter 10 starts with a proverb that says… the search for a black goat should start way before nightfall… which I found to be pretty amusing, clearly it doesn't take much to amuse me. However the intrinsic nature of a proverb is not only to present wisdom but to do so sometimes in a cheeky, shady way. But the proverbs in this book as far as I could tell, are not original to the author so I can not ascribe the humor that they provide to the author. Anyhoo, interestingly both of these writers, Abubakar Adam Ibrahim and Ta-Nehisi Coates are also journalists. So, I suspect that because of their backgrounds reporting the news and presenting factual information in a sober manner, this style of writing bleeds into their fiction leaving it feeling a little stiff. I'll give you an example. I’ll read you a line from page 12 of the book but before I do, I’ll lay out the scene for you. In this scene, Binta attends a madrasa, which is islamic school, with women in her neighborhood. On this particular day, their teacher has called in sick and the women decide to spend the time productively by going over previous lessons but they cannot agree on which topics to revise so they agree to disperse. And this is how the author describes their dispersal… after a lengthy and discordant debate garnished with thinly coated sarcasm the women left in groups… In my opinion, this was an opportunity for lightness or humor, you know like the women can’t get it together, but for whatever reason, the author just chose not to take it. so I struggled with the overall serious tone of the book. Please understand that my desire for air or lightness is not to, you know, escape from the importance of the themes that are being discussed but as a reader I demand, mmm look at me demanding things. I demand, as a reader to experience the fuller breadth of human emotion. I want joy, sadness, empathy, grief, levity, loss, good Humor, compassion, i want to smile, I wanna grunt at something, I wanted be pissed off. Look, I'm spending a good chunk of my time with this book and taking hours over several days to engage with the characters and have them feel like real people that I am interacting with. and when you interact with people in real life, guess what, you experience a spectrum of emotion. So, this should be no different. This novel felt monotone. And while we're still on the subject of humor, there is a book Binta owns that's mentioned pretty frequently throughout the course of season of crimson blossoms. The book is titled The Major Sins and is written by Az Zahabi. I know a book within a book. pretty meta huh? Anyhow the major sins by az zahabi features pretty frequently throughout the narrative of the story. However, it never becomes of significance to the plot and i was confused and slightly irritated by it. So after I was done reading this novel I went and looked up the major sins. and then I got it. it's kind of supposed to be this ironic, inside joke typ