Purple Hibiscus begins with a quote from both Yeats and Achebe, which is so fitting, as this book speaks so much about cycles (just as Yeats and Achebe also did). The cycles in this book take so many forms- cycles of violence and abuse, cycles of political and religious control, cycles of life and family. All of this is threaded together with a lovely coming of age narrative of a girl who learns to laugh and sing and smile.

I honestly loved this book so much that it’s really hard to put it into words. This book was about so many things, which makes it hard, in retrospect to describe why it is so wonderful. The story of Kambili itself is lovely. Kambili is raised in a hyper-Catholic house with an abusive father. She eventually goes to stay with her cousins in Nssuka for a few weeks across a few months, where is able to finally begin to discover who she really is. She has her first crush (it’s a priest). She befriends her cousin and learns her taste in music. She listens to the ancient stories of her grandfather. Kambili becomes a fuller person for her time in Nssuka and its beautiful to watch.

This is all underscored with a backdrop of fanatical Catholicism and Nigerian politics. Her father, much like the political leaders of the country, continue to act out violently against their own people in hopes that it will help or protect them. It makes the reader question- how one can stand against one outrage, yet perpetrate that against another? How do we break cycles of violence? How do manhood and womanhood play roles in this violence? Are families microcosm of the politics at large?

This book raised so many questions and insights, so many complex thoughts about post-colonial politics, Catholicism, and family. I really enjoyed the writing, the world it created, and especially, the narrator, Kambili. I highly recommend this novel. I think it will be a “go-to” book for me to recommend to my students. I think they’ll be able to relate to the teenager narrator and open their minds learning about the world. I use Adiche’s Danger of a Single Story and “A Private Experience” in class and a lot of my students were interested in really more by her. I’m also really looking forward to reading more Adiche myself!

Brilliant. Loved it.

A cada rato pensaba que el libro era precioso y a la página siguiente lo encontraba terrible. Y luego precioso y de nuevo terrible. Pero me gustó mucho eso, porque hasta lo terrible estaba hermosamente narrado.

Me gustó también la honestidad al transmitir los grises de la vida y del amor. Del amor a un padre violento y del temor hacia él también.

Me gustó que el feminismo se colara en cada palabra sin ser explícito ni moralista, sino todo lo contrario. Lo encontré feminista por mostrar a mujeres pertenecientes a la misma familia y sin embargo tan distintas, enfrentándose al desafío de conocerse y amarse; por la representación del patriarcado de una forma tan evidente y siempre tan amigo de la religión; y sobre todo -y justamente- por las contradicciones de la protagonista, por explicitar el cuestionamiento constante a sí misma y el replanteamiento de lo aprendido.

En tiempos de tantos juicios de valor y pauta moral, es un alivio leer la complejidad de los sentimientos de mujeres, de mujeres víctimas de violencia, dejando un rato de lado los argumentos sobre el bien y el mal. Porque las relaciones no son obvias ni fáciles cuando eres Kambili y reflexionas con el corazón.