This book slots in rather neatly into my reading year. After recently finishing Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and What It Means When a Man Falls from the Sky by Lesley Nneka Arimah, both of which deal with modern-day Nigeria or the Nigerian diaspora, it was a refreshing counterpoint to read about village life pre-colonisation from the "father of modern African writing". Far from being the dry classic I had feared, I came to understand why this book is so highly revered.
What truly surprised me about this novel was that, despite much of the literary criticism suggesting it's predominantly about the friction between native beliefs and western colonisation, that aspect only really comes to the fore in the last few pages.
The first two parts of the book establish the rhythms of village life, encompassing the gods, birth, death, marriage, yam farming (and there's a LOT of yams in this), as well as introducing the indomitable Okonkwo and his family. The story doesn't unfold at a breakneck pace, nor does it follow a straight line. Often, it feels as if we circle around a plot point without ever quite reaching it. But I didn't mind this leisurely stroll of storytelling. In fact, I think it made the impact of what occurs in the final third all the more powerful.
So many scenes from this book stand out in my mind - the locusts, the Egwugwu with smoke billowing from their heads, and the various sounds of gongs and cries from the spirit world. This was truly a very auditory kind of book.
By the time I closed the book on the final page, I realised just how much Achebe had managed to pack into such a slim novel, and how fitting the title was.
Brilliant.