BOOK ASSESSMENT

Memoirs which focus on a perspective of childhood can be tricky to pull off well. If the narration is from a mature vantage, then the story often ends up being more analytical than experiential, full of retroactive knowledge that often precludes any sense of tension. On the other hand, writing from the vantage of a younger version risks becoming too performative and, in many cases, somewhat cloying. This book strikes a remarkable balance of plausibly entering the head of Andayi younger self while retaining just enough insight to provide structure, direction, and a hint of perspective here and there. It works precisely because of this, and because the narration is unflinchingly self-deprecating as well as possessed of a good bit of comic timing.

The youthful innocence of a boy is exposed when Andayi is tricked by a village surgeon into opening his mouth but ends up getting tumbled to the ground where the inside of his throat is hacked twice, ostensibly to get rid of his stuttering. A year later, and not knowing anything about the ghastly rite of passage into manhood, he escapes home to follow his older brother into the ancestral forest where they are circumcised without anesthesia. Before the hemorrhaging stops, they are shepherded deeper into the jungle where they face frightening flare-ups and arduous excursions whose survival will graduate them from boys to men.

 The reader is able to share Andayi’s distressing experiences step by step without the benefit of knowing what’s coming around the corner. I can easily imagine this story being told in a very different way, with the circumcision ritual the focus of a memoir focused on trauma and disconnect from cultural roots. But this narration puts the whole culture into context. We understand where the traditions come from, why they persisted, and how the community reacted to challenges, and it’s done in a way that’s honest without being judgmental. Many modern readers in the West would be shocked at the account of the ritual, but Andayi’s self-confidence and pride in surviving – puts the bloody ritual into perspective. We may not agree with it, and indeed it sounds like Andayi himself had reservations, but it’s understandable as something essential rather than capriciously cruel.

 The premature elevation to manhood helps frame Andayi’s personality effectively: impulsive, quick to focus on immediate gratification and the perks of adulthood without understanding its responsibilities. And the narration makes it clear that this self-involvement was near-total, with uncompromising assessments of his own failures. The jaw-dropping revelations come across as relatable and entertaining, even if something of a cautionary tale. The frequent and frank modest helps considerably. I think it was a wise narrative decision to delay recounting the various bullying activities conducted in school until later in the book; it’s easier to relate to a class clown than a bully. By the time the reader is presented with this information, they’re already more invested in Andayi’s complicated journey, especially after he has already made the decision to turn his life around and apply himself.

 The framing of this volume is good – beginning and ending with two pivotal life events, starting with ghastly surgeries and tribal rituals and ending up at the departure for the US – and the pacing and flow are solid throughout. Overall, it’s a very entertaining as well as eye-opening look at life in African traditional practices as related to Andayi’s life. Multi-volume memoirs rarely hold readers’ attention, but I think this sequence of books, if he has more planned, may prove the exception.