Remember the Great American Novel? Those novels you read in high school English class that supposedly perfectly encapsulated the state of America and its people at the time, pure and relatable to its readers? Those novels that seemed less a work of fiction and more first-hand accounts taken straight from a primary source?
The Great American Novel is a dwindling ideal in an increasingly globalized, transnational world. The isolated, hyper-American novels of the past century have slowly been replaced by tales of immigration and intercultural movement and struggles, exemplified by authors like Julia Alvarez, Gary Shteyngart and Junot Díaz.
“Americanah,” by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, is one such novel, a transnational work written for the 21st century. Moving beyond the classic tale of immigrants fleeing poverty and persecution, “Americanah” focuses instead on the educated, well-to-do young adults of globalized contemporary society and their experiences within and without their home countries.
Adichie has already established herself as a deftly skilled writer, with several critically acclaimed and commercially successful novels under her belt at a very young age. “Americanah” is her fourth novel, and Adichie is only in her early 30s. Her second novel, “Half of a Yellow Sun,” has already been adapted into a film that will be released this year. She excels in writing incredibly accessible, yet accurate and relatable tales of Nigerian citizens and expats, and her newest work follows the trend.
“Americanah” is the story of Ifemelu and Obinze. The two young Nigerian lovers are separated by age and Ifemelu’s migration to the United States so he can continue his education. The story progresses in a non-linear manner, flashing in between the protagonists’ secondary school days, their early days of separation in university and their adult lives, totally independent of each other, but in each other’s thoughts all the same.
Adichie writes with an ease and fluidity that immerses the reader in the story, regardless of where and when any given chapter takes place. The writing is consistently compelling and totally void of any pretension or preaching, and remarkably brings decades-old Nigeria to life even for Western readers with little to no conception of Africa, past or present. She critiques and celebrates American culture in spurts, navigating American quotidian life with a keen perceptiveness and honesty, never feeling like an attack or a celebration of American culture, just an honest account from someone witnessing the strange ways of a new country firsthand.
Like most tales of strife in foreign lands, much of “Americanah” is directly inspired by Adichie’s experiences attending university in the United States and the alienation she felt as an African woman in an American context. The realism and candor of the novel are tangible for that reason, and it keeps the reader engaged throughout.
“Americanah’s” greatest accomplishment, though, is how it makes readers stop and consider their role in the transnational experience. Considering the richness of the story, the clarity of its writing and the immensely immersing qualities throughout, “Americanah” is an all-around great novel, one that reflects on the growing transnationalism of a globalized world and the way that phenomenon affects our everyday relationships with the people around us, and even those across an ocean on another continent. It is an enriching read, one that will stay with you long after you have finished.