Unusual and informative story about life in the lower Niger.
Okonkwo was not a cruel man. But his whole life was dominated by fear, the fear of failure and of weakness. It was deeper and more intimate than the fear of evil and capricious gods and of magic, the fear of the forest, and of the forces of nature, malevolent, red in tooth and claw. Okonkwo’s fear was greater than these. It was not external but lay deep within himself. It was the fear of himself, lest he should be found to resemble his father. Even as a little boy he had resented his father’s failure and weakness. And so Okonkwo was ruled by one passion - to hate everything that his father Unoka had loved. One of these things was gentleness and another was idleness.
He worshipped them with sacrifices of kola nut, food and palm-wine, and offered prayers to them on behalf of himself, his three wives and eight children.
Ekwefi! a voice called from one of the other huts. It was Nwoye’s mother.
“Is that me?” Ekwefi called back. That was the way people answered calls from outside. They never answered yes for fear it might be an evil spirit calling.
Okonkwo clear his throat and moved his feet to the beat of the drums. It filled him with fire as it had always done from his youth. He trembled with the desire to conquer and subdue. It was like the desire for woman.
Nneka = Mother is Supreme
For whom is it well, for whom is it well?
There is no one for whom it is well.
After the singing the interpreter spoke about the Son of God whose name was Jesu Kristi. ‘You told us with your own mouth that there was only one god. Now you talk about his son. He must have a wife, then.’
‘Your buttocks said he had a son, so he must have a wife and all of them must have butocks.’
Obiageli called her ‘Salt’ because she said that she disliked water: ‘Are you afraid you may dissolve?’
palavers - prolonged and idle discussion
Achebe: I wouldn’t say that for Okonkwo there is no way out. The cards were stacked against him. I mean, his father, Unoka, was not successful, so Okonkwo had this fear in him that he was actually his father’s son and that was what scared him. That is why he was fighting so relentlessly to kill that possibility of his father resurfacing in him.
So he exaggerated everything. He heard the loud sounds: bravery, success, wisdom, strength, but not compassion. He failed to hear the subtle admonition of his culture, which is that it’s wonderful to be brave, but remember also that the coward outlives the brave man.
I simply think that we have a difficult job to do in my country and the reason that the military is behaving the way it’s behaving is that we have not -- we the civilians -- allowed principles to rule our conduct. It’s the opportunism of one group seeking the advantage over the other.
When we learn to deal with this, then the military will go. And we will begin our difficult march because it’s always going to be difficult. This legacy of colonial rule is not something we can just shake off one morning and say now it’s over. There are many things we must unlearn and learn how to be free.
[The artist plays] an essential role because the artist is dealing with the most vital element of the people’s condition, that which is called the human condition. The artist is one who looks at this closely and carefully and without apology and without condescension; he doesn’t put anybody down. He’s not owned by anybody, either. He looks at our condition as it is.
Okonkwo is in a way the story of our culture; he pays a price because he places too much emphasis on strength and manliness. Not enough attention is given to those who are oppressed. Okonkwo stands as a symbol of that price that must be paid.
Ezeulu introduces into my fiction the element of the divine. No matter what arrangements we make, there are time when we are not in control of our lives. Indeed he is self-willed and vindictive, but he is more than that: He is a traditional priest. He conscientiously upholds his traditional beliefs, and if he comes to a ‘stick’ end, it is just the nature of our world and our humanity.
We must be very patient when it comes to legislating anything concerning language.
Chief Seattle
Our dead never forget the beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its winding rivers, its great mountains and its sequestered vaes, and they ever yearn in tenderest affection over the lonely hearted living and often return to visit and comfort them.
tamanawus - may have been miscopied by Smith. It may have been tahmanawis, a ritual or mystery of the Puget Sound Native Americans.
The white man will never be alone. Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not altogether powerless.
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Peace is costly, but it’s worth the expense.
- The Jungle Commission by Jomo Kenyatta
eiderdown - down, or soft feathers, from the breast of the female eider duck. a heavy quilt or comforter, especially one filled with eiderdown
Métier - trade, vocation