Purple Hibiscus by Chimimanda Ngozi Adichie

Every year Maryland selects one book that its citizen can all read at the same time. This program is called One Maryland, One Book, and it's a great program worth participating in, if you're in the state. Not only do libraries carry extra copies of that year's title, but there are book discussions scheduled, and usually events where the author speaks about their book and its topics. This year's selection for OMOB is Purple Hibiscus by Chimimanda Ngozi Adichie, and it's fantastic.

I know the book discussions are not until September and October, but I decided to read the book selection early this year. I didn't want to have to compete for a library copy of the book, especially if I wanted to listen to Purple Hibiscus on audio. I highly recommend the audio version, performed by veteran audio book narrator Lisette Lecat. There's a lot of the Nigerian Igbo language used through the story, so hearing Lecat pronounce those terms as well as all the characters names is really helpful as someone not familiar with Nigerian languages.

I've read some reviews that suggest that Purple Hibiscus starts slowly for them, but I did not have that experience. The vivid descriptions and breathless tone that Adichie sets from the beginning absolutely mesmerized me. As a survivor of an abusive religious home, I identified almost completely with Kambili and Jaja and their mother. The emotions described are breathtakingly, terrifyingly real. Considering the vast difference in ethnic and socio-economic status between myself and the characters, that's quite a feat of writing.

The story does build slowly, as we come to know Kambili, her dutiful, quiet mother, her smart, responsible brother Jaja, and their obsessively devout, terrifying, loving, abusive, unstable, magnanimous, controlling Papa, Eugene. It's a testament to Adichie's writing that as despicable as their Papa is, he's also almost a sympathetic character, with hints at what horrors must have warped him into the monster he's become.  These character's world is so small and quiet and restricted as the story starts, but it opens, slowly, like the titular hibiscus blooming. Slowly new additions arrive in their circle. Their grandfather. Their Auntie Ifeoma and their three cousins. A new, young, and vital native-born priest. Each character is sharply drawn, distinct and life-like. And where new people enter the circle, so do new places and new experiences.

Kambili, the brilliant and dutiful daughter, mesmerized by her controlling father, has learned to internalize her experiences, due to her home life, which makes her a great narrator. But even she finds herself slowly opening up to new experiences as the story progresses and as she sees her beloved brother Jaja begin to open up. Interspersed throughout their personal narrative is a tale of civil unrest in post-colonial Nigeria, complete with coups and government corruption and assassination and suppression of the press. All of this only adds to the tension in this family's world, as Kambili's father and the editor of the newspaper he owns are outspoken critics of the oppressive government.

Overall, Purple Hibiscus is a mesmerizing look at issues of justice, both large and small, seen through the eyes of several very vulnerable characters. It also offers a bit of hope for what small changes in circumstances can bring about in the quality of life for both individuals and countries. I highly recommend this book. My only caveat would be a content warning: if you're triggered by reading vivid accounts of domestic abuse, both emotional and physical, read with care. Otherwise, please join the rest of Maryland in reading a great book that grapples with so many different but important topics. The more we know and understand about our world, the better we can resist injustice.

Maryland Humanities 2017 One Maryland One Book