For me one of the most powerful parts of Americanah was its ability to show
racism in America in such a poignant way. While we all know on an intellectual
level that racism is real and still exists to this day, for most of us (or at
least for me) it’s a kind of removed, abstract understanding. I have never
personally experienced discrimination for the color of my skin, and so I can´t
be fully aware of all that it means to be black in America. Almost as if she
anticipates this, Adiche continuously includes passages to grab the reader´s
attention and force them to pay attention. One especially powerful example of
this for me was Ifemelu´s blog post about white privilege. In this post, over a
page of text is dedicated to a list of questions like “Do you worry that your
children will not have books and school materials that are about people of
their own race?” and “If you swear or dress shabbily, do you think that people
might say this is because of the bad morals or the poverty or the illiteracy of
your race?” (430). The issues these questions raise are so basic that it never
would have occurred to me to think about race in that way. I have never had
those worries, so it was eye-opening to see racism working on such a fundamental
level, affecting people in a way that I never would have anticipated. It goes
to show how deeply rooted the issue of racism is in the US.
Having said that, one issue that I had with the novel was the
way Nigeria was portrayed as a kind of racial utopia. Ifemelu repeatedly says, “I
came from a country where race was not an issue; I did not think of myself as
black and I only became black when I came to America” (59). While it is true
that skin color may not be a divisive issue in Nigeria, it´s obvious that there
are other social divisions that do create some level of contention. During one
of Obinze´s business meetings, his prospective partner says, “a Hausa man will
speak Hausa to his fellow Hausa man. A Yoruba man will see a Yoruba person anywhere
and will speak Yoruba. But an Igbo man will speak English to an Igbo man”
(561). There are clearly three separate tribes in Nigeria, each with its own
distinct identity and characteristics. This issue also comes up when Aisha pleads
with Ifemelu to “tell Chijoke Igbo can marry not Igbo” (48). The fact that there
is a restriction or at least a stigma attached to marrying outside your tribe
proves that Nigeria is not as united and discrimination free as Ifemelu often presents
it. Though the prejudice that Nigerians face due to their tribe is obviously
not as extreme as that experienced by nonwhites in America, I think it is
important to realize that discrimination is a human, not just an American,
problem.
Laura, I agree with both of the points you make. While it is quite obvious that Adiche seeks to expose racism in America, we see that sectarianism exists everywhere. After reading this post, I began to think of other areas in the novel where we see discrimination that is not necessarily leveled by whites against blacks, but instead is slightly more ambiguous in its intent and offensiveness. This is seen in many of Adiches blog posts, “Take Lili, for example, the coffee-skinned, black-haired and Spanish-speaking woman…She was disrespectful, cleaned poorly, made demands. My aunt believed Lili didn’t like working for black people. Before she finally fired her, my aunt said, ‘Stupid Woman, she thinks she’s white’” (253). Not only does the Spanish maid disrespect Ifemelu’s aunt because she is black, the aunt doesn’t respect her maid because she is not white. Adiche shows that discrimination, no matter who gives and receives it, is nonetheless senseless. Additionally, as a white person reading this novel, I find these examples valuable because it shows that Adiche can objectively identify racist stereotypes instead of only acknowledging those perpetrated against herself. This lends credibility to her observations of traditional racism (white vs. black). In another blog post we see further that these kinds of bigotry are not just limited to race, “‘we had a visiting speaker and a classmate whispers to another, “Oh my God, he looks so Jewish,’ with a shudder, an actual shudder. Like Jewish was a bad thing” (227). Like you mentioned in your post, Adiche shows that just as discrimination is not inherently from whites towards blacks, it isn’t necessarily race-based either. Discrimination can be any of the four divisions Ifemelu descirbes in America, “class, idology, region, and race” (227).
ReplyDeleteI agree that Adichie focuses more on racism in the American setting than in the Nigerian setting, but that is alright because she chooses to focus on other issues in the Nigerian setting. The most consistent pressing issues the characters in Nigeria face are all economic in nature. In America the only economic issue Ifemelu ever faces is trying to scrape up enough money for rent, whereas the problems are much more severe in Nigeria. Being asked for an additional years rent (91), getting their electricity shut off (91), or unmanageable potholes in the road (481) are all daily threats in Nigeria.
ReplyDeleteWhen Adichie does talk about race, it is most convincingly presented through Ifemelu’s blog posts. I had seen the list of white privilege before, so I was not surprised by it. Yet many of her other blog posts were very insightful, my particular favorite being on 390. This one discusses the fact that everyone knows racism is still around, yet no one can find any of the stereotypical racists because we don’t acknowledge that racists lead normal lives with loving families. This passage, combined with the list of white privilege, form a very thorough argument for evidence of racism in the world.