Pages

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Race and Hair

In Americanah, why is it that once Ifemelu returns to Nigeria, we not longer hear about her hair? Author Chimamanda Adichie says, during one of her interviews, that hair is political for black women. In the case of Ifemelu, however, the details and significance surrounding her political hair appear almost exclusively during her stay in America and appear maybe once or twice in Nigeria.  For Ifemelu, hair is like race – it does not take on any meaning until she is in America and it leaves its meaning behind in America as well.

When Ifemelu is in America, we hear quite a bit about her hair, how it is styled, and what it means. Ifemelu wears her hair in braids upon arrival to America and keeps it this way until she gets a job interview through Curt. We learn that, in preparation for this interview, she must relax her hair because she “needs to look professional for [her] interview, and professional means straight is best” (252). Hair has a deeper meaning for Ifemelu because she is a black woman. Ifemelu discusses that white women, by being white, not only are in the majority but they also have the ‘right’ kind of hair that would be considered ‘normal.’ Ifemelu, on the other hand, would look to ‘ghetto,’ ‘jungle,’ or ‘artsy,’ if her hair was anything but straight. Her hair coupled with her race, is prominent enough to be influential on this job opportunity.

Later, when her hair begins to fall out, her friend Wambui convinces Ifemelu to cut all it all off and start anew. At first she resents it, and is asked more than once if her hair is a statement (262). While out one day with Curt, a black man snidely asked her, “’You ever wonder why he likes you looking all jungle like that?’” (263). This also extends to the issues of being a biracial couple. She faces constant looks of other white women who wonder why Curt would choose Ifemelu over them (362). In America, Ifemelu finds that she cannot merely cut her hair because it was unhealthy or date a white man because she likes him; she must have a reason or statement because she is a black woman.

Once Ifemelu returns to Nigeria, her hair is no longer at the forefront. One of the few times it is mentioned is when Ester says, “’Aunty, your hair is jaga-jaga,’ with a kind of sad honesty, about what Ifemelu considered an attractive twist-out style” (511). Other than this, we do not know what style Ifemelu’s hair is in. After returning, Ifemelu’s hair no longer holds any deep meaning, and thus she ceases to make a point to describe her hair. She does not bring it up when she is considering finding work, just as she does not bring up race. When speaking about race in Lagos, Ifemelu merely discusses its influence while in America, not about its significance in Nigeria. Ifemelu’s focus on hair and race changed drastically since leaving America.

Adichie jokes that Americanah is about ‘love, race, and hair,’ and this statement is accurate. In regards to race and hair, America is where Ifemelu finds the differences – she faces ‘being black’ and the new significance of both her skin color and her hair. When she returns back home to Nigeria, she becomes ‘normal Ifemelu’ again.


Where is the real Americanah?


I found it interesting that Ifemelu’s entire life quest seems to be finding where she belongs or fits in; as she tries desperately to achieve this over and over. This applies to where she lives, who she is friends with, and who she chooses to have relationships with.  Growing up, she is encouraged to look towards higher education and eventually towards America to receive that education, not Nigeria.  However once Ifemelu finally arrives, America is clearly not what she imagined.  She had this idea of America as a “cold place full of wool coats and snow” (127) and imagines it to be a place of fantastic people and places and things that will solve all of her problems.  The moment she is off the plane the only word she repeatedly uses to describe her surroundings is “matte.”  Her final destination is now a reality and yet it seems to fall short of everything she envisioned.  America is described with an underlying tone of criticism as the story continues.  She dislikes everything from Dike’s schooling all the way down to the size of grocery stores and the taste of fruit (139).  The only thing she really compliments is the fast food. She has a couple long-term relationships that mirror this general dissatisfaction and always seem to end as Ifemelu disengages from her partner or continues searching for her dream life.  All in all she doesn’t feel like she’s been given a new life in shiny America; instead she feels confused and like an outsider looking in.  Ifemelu wants everything she can’t have and “She ached for the lives they showed, lives full of bliss, where all problems had sparkling solutions in shampoos and cars and packaged foods, and in her mind they became the real America” (139).

            Things definitely improve for Ifemelu after she goes to college and sees more of America than what she was able to at Aunty Uju’s apartment.  Eventually she overcomes the initial disappointment but never seems to shake the feeling of being an outsider, and in my opinion feels less complete than before she left Nigeria.  I thought that at the point in the story when Ifemelu returns to Nigeria she would finally feel at home.  What actually happened seemed to contradict what I originally thought.  Immediately after arriving in Lagos Ifemelu says “…she had the dizzying sense of falling, falling into the new person she had become, falling into the strange familiar.  Had it always been like this or had it changed so much in her absence?” (475). I think this marks a profound change in Ifemelu.  Now that she’s returned home she fully realizes how America has changed her, even though she resisted being influenced by it for so long. She tried American culture, American relationships, and American schooling, but somehow she still didn’t feel at home in America. Due to those experiences she now feels somewhat out of place in her former home Lagos as well, and so her quest to fully feel a sense of belonging continues. 

Coping in Americanah

In one of the videos we watched in class, Adichie was quoted as saying that, "Race is America's original sin."  Throughout the novel, it seems there's a parallel between race and religion; Adichie illustrates how both of these institutions involve people lying by denying reality in order to comfort themselves.

At a very young age, Ifemelu observes that those who are religious seem to use their faith to avoid confronting the uglier parts of their lives and even the uglier parts of themselves.  After defying Sister Ibinabo (arguably the most powerful member of the church), Ifemelu makes a startling observation:
When Sister Ibinabo was talking to Christie, with that poisonous spite she claimed was religious guidance, Ifemelu had looked at her and suddenly seen something of her own mother.  Her mother was a kinder and simpler person, but like sister Ibinabo, she was a person who denied that things were as they were.  A person who had to spread the cloak of religion over her own petty desire (62-63).

Unlike religion, which serves as a tool to allow people to evade those things that make them uncomfortable, Ifemelu discerns that, in America, race is the thing that makes people (white people in particular) the most uncomfortable and, therefore, acknowledgement of it is often avoided at all costs. Ifemelu writes in one of her blog posts,
Dear American Non-Black, if an American Black person is telling you about an experience about being black,…Don’t be quick to find alternative explanations for what happened. Don’t say. ‘Oh, it’s not really race, it’s class. Oh, it’s not race, it’s gender. Oh it’s not race, it’s the cookie monster (403).

This section of her post showcases Ifemelu’s experience with the discomfort people face when they are forced to confront the issue of race. Rather than accept that race is still a relevant issue in American society, Americans who are not as affected by race are quick to cloak the issue in something they are more familiar and more comfortable with.


Adichie’s work examines human coping mechanisms, the things people do to avoid discomfort. Lying in some form or another (by omission, to oneself, etc.) is one of the most prevalent strands throughout the novel. It could be interesting to follow this strand within other contexts of the story. For instance, how lying affects Ifemelu’s relationships or how it affects the process by which she develops her identity.  In general, I would argue that Americanah was Adichie’s attempt to make Americans acknowledge race as a relevant issue rather than her attempt to combat racism in America.  Her mission in this book is honesty.

"This is America. It's different" - Race, accents, and just some other stuff

*before I start, my book has different pages numbers. Mine has 477 pages, and perhaps you could use that as a reference to find the "correct" page number on the book everyone else has. Also, I did not finish the book yet. Lastly, I apologize in advance if I talked too much about myself that resulted in a rather long post.

When Ifemlu first arrives in America, Aunt Uju tells her "this is America. It's different" (109). This simple quote does extremely well in capturing most of the topics discussed in the novel: the issue with race, the power accents have, and other things that the novel uses to show the experience of non-white immigrants. 

To Amara, Bose says, "London is a leveler" when discussing how men who would not have stood a chance with her in Nigeria were now "generously” offering to marry her (244). While the conversation took place in the UK, I think the relationship between "leveler" and "race" works universally. The incident Ifemelu had with the carpet cleaner portrays this well. The white carpet cleaner was disturbed when he thought Ifemelu was the owner of the house; however, when he realized she wasn't, he smiled because "the universe was once again arranged as it should be" (166). Similarly, Bartholomew considers Aunt Uju to be on the same level with him (or below him due to her gender) even though she clearly has a higher paying job with a better social status. In all of these cases, race was used to level everyone to the same level, regardless of their personalities, views, and social statuses. Ifemelu later describes how "'Blacks' as a whole are often lumped with poor whites" (166). It was different in Nigeria because everyone was black, and race did not play such role.

Although we didn’t talk about it in class, the case with accents fascinates me the most, especially in an era when racism needs a new definition like “racial disorder syndrome…with different categories: mild, medium, and acute” (315). Ginika says, this is America, you are supposed to pretend that you don’t notice certain things [race]” (127). I would agree with her that people now are good at “ignoring” race at the surface level. Personally speaking, accent serves as the single most important thing in fully integrating in America, especially as a non-white person. The world is such a diverse place, and race cannot show whether a certain individual is a “native.” For example, when Ifemelu says, “I speak English” to Cristina at the registration desk, Christina replies, “I bet you do, I just don’t know how well” (133). Due to her accent Ifemelu is instantly treated differently. She also comments how Bartholomew uses “gonnas” and “wannas” to “compensate for his deprived rural upbringing” in Nigeria (115). Even in Nigeria, it plays a similar role as Ifemelu’s father spoke in “mannered English…it was costume, his shield against insecurity…what he did not have…middle class life…words became his armour” (47). My parents, who both received their PhDs in the US, have the same issue whenever they visit me here. They are often frustrated by how people treat them as if they were incompetent or stupid, even when ordering a Big Mac from McDonald’s. Since race is such a sensitive thing to touch, I believe accents are used as a callus medium for subtle discrimination since the “difficulty in understanding” somehow serves as a legitimate reason for discrimination that extends beyond just language. I am actually really relieved about how I do not have an Asian accent (I think), and I’m not sure if that is acceptable when some “white” accents are even considered attractive (does race play a role in such phenomenon?).


Lastly, there were some other subjects Adichie brought up that I thought were very interesting. First is how the “integrated” non-white immigrants view other non-white immigrants. When Ifemelu’s parents visited her, she “watched them with a sneer” (315). Obinze briefly looked at the pack of Nigerians in the train with “suspicious eyes of the white woman” (259). Lastly, the rich British black woman “wanted to be the only black person in the room, so any other black person is an immediate threat to her” (245). I can reluctantly admit to having the latter two experiences. I was always mad at myself for having such feelings and never quite understand why I do have them. Perhaps it’s because I unknowingly wanted to “elevate” myself into the “normal American category.” The second one is when Emenike calls himself a “Brit” (272). It seemed like Adichie had a negative view towards it based on Obinze’s disapproval. I am technically American, and I now consider myself to be culturally American as well. I thought Emenike’s comment showed positivity about how well he adjusted rather being all negative about how he forgot his roots (although that is true to a degree). 

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Love vs. Security in Ifemelu's Relationships

For someone who would probably describe herself as a “strong, independent black woman who don’t need no man,” Ifemelu certainly places security over love in her relationships with anyone but Obinze. With Obinze, she is herself, with dreams and ambitions, but only when she steps outside of her “American” comforts zones does she find true success without a man. In other words, Ifemelu is merely complacent with other men, finding happiness despite them, but she finds true happiness because of Obinze. When she stops speaking to Obinze after her prostitution and consequent shame in America, she embarks on a series of relationships in which she is content, but not happy.

First, Ifemelu dates Curt, who treats her like a princess (according to Aunty Uju, anyway). “A sense of contentment overwhelmed her. That was what Curt had given her, this gift of contentment, of ease” (Adichie 246). Curt is always upbeat and positive, the All-American man, and he attempts to help Ifemelu ease into her new life. However, he is an overeager people pleaser who, as a white male, does not fully comprehend Ifemelu’s struggle as a minority. But Ifemelu is comfortable in her position until she realizes how much more devoted Curt is to the relationship. “‘I don’t want to be a sweetheart, I want to be the [expletive] love of your life,’ Curt said with a force that startled her.” (278) She remains where she is for the sake of convenience but will not commit to the adoring Curt, for she fears fully giving herself to someone other than Obinze.

Ifemelu then dates Blaine, who also treats her well but with more of a methodical sense of caring. “She thought of him as a person who did not have a normal spine but had, instead, a firm reed of goodness” (383). Blaine is a left-wing, African-American activist, cooking for Ifemelu and enlightening her on the next great novel. But he is a self-righteous man who often patronizes Ifemelu, and she is fully aware that she does not fit in with his friends. This is probably why Ifemelu skips Blaine’s library protest in favor of Kavanagh’s luncheon on page 426. Ifemelu finally realizes that she does not have to lean on Blaine for security and bend to his every desire. Of course, this also shows a lack of commitment to Blaine, but perhaps Ifemelu finally recognizes what is important to her life (her blog, Obinze, her friends) and what is not (Blaine’s judgment, his opinionated friends).

With each new man in Ifemelu’s life comes a comparison to Obinze. In fact, when she finally encounters Obinze again in Lagos, she tells him as much. “I always saw the ceiling with other men,” (551) implying that she never felt passion for any of these lesser important lovers. In short, Ifemelu is never able to find more than temporary security with Curt or Blaine, for she has too much history with Obinze and thus will never be able to commit to anyone but him.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Race in America & Nigeria



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.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

"The Hot White Ex"

I think Curt's character is most interesting for the duality and intimacy of racism that he illustrates, the way it works in the private space of his and Ifemelu's relationship.  She notes that he "grasped one thing but was completely tone-deaf about another similar thing, how he could easily make one imaginative leap, but be crippled in the face of another"(291). He adores Ifemelu but also cannot completely understand her perspective. He truly cares for her but also fetishizes her exoticness. When Ifemelu has her hair relaxed, he is deeply sympathetic to her pain and enraged at the necessity of it in her career search. There is an undertone, too, however, that he is disappointed at the loss of her more 'African' look. While Ifemelu does not say it outright, she is sensitive to the idea that Curt sees her at least partially as an exotic wonder and not simply another human being.  It emerges when she reacts strongly to the stranger who comments on Curt liking her 'jungle,' and her pain when she reflects on the hair of Curt's ex-girlfriends.

Ifemelu is deeply bothered by the smoothing over of race issues in favor of politeness and acceptance.  Curt is, of course, a master of conflict-easing and charm.  Perhaps this is part of why Ifemelu can not stay with him.  While Curt seems to try to understand Ifemelu's experience, he is ultimately driven by his need for affirmation, the "something in him" Ifemelu describes as "lighter than ego but darker than insecurity, that needed constant buffing, polishing, waxing" (207). His privilege and sense of entitlement at times allows him to overcome his insecurity and act in Ifemelu's defense, such as when he demands that the women at the spa wax her eyebrows, or in the way he introduces her to his WASPy childhood friends at a cocktail party.  However, they also prevents him from really grasping the world she inhabits, as is demonstrated in the way he assumes Ifemelu will be his girlfriend and his failure to recognize how skewed against dark-skinned women American magazines are. Ifem recognizes that his love is what is responsible for his more open mind, and that it made possible even the level of understanding he achieves. This realization inspires her first blog post, where she writes, "The simplest solution to the problem of race in America? Romantic love... the kind that twists you and wrings you out and makes your breathe through the nostrils of your beloved.  And because that real deep romantic love is so rare, and because American society is set up o make it even rarer between American Black and American White, the problem of race in America will never be solved" (298).


Curt provides for Ifemelu the things that many of her Nigerian peers seek.  Aunty Uju is cruel about their breakup because in her romantic relationships she has always been looking for a 'Curt,' a man who would pay her bills and take her on vacations.  Through him, Ifemelu has the worldliness Emenike had long desired and the job Obinze fights so hard for. I think Ifemelu's rejection of him is a sign of her seeking more in America than comfort, material wealth, or even happiness.  She is looking to understand and be understood, and when she and Curt break up she works toward these things in her blog. Out from under the protective, but also restrictive, wing of Curt's mollifying personality and material help, Ifemelu is able to think and express herself clearly.