Africa Fatigue Across Cultural Borders

So much current English-language literature suffers from self-conscious attempts at subverting structure or wallowing in linguistic games and meta-narratives. That’s why it was refreshing to read [Half of a Yellow Sun], Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s wonderful novel depicting the Nigeria-Biafra war. Her clear, straightforward story has epic proportions, yet never loses sight of the domestic and personal. I was looking forward to hearing her speak on the subject at Monday night’s reading at the [92nd Street Y](http://www.92y.org/shop/event_detail.asp?productid=T%2DTP5MS16). That she was paired with Dave Eggers, the man who has defined clever experimentation for a generation in his own books and through his indie publishing house, McSweeney’s, seemed even more ripe for a few cross-cultural insights and perhaps some verbal fireworks.

Unfortunately there wasn’t much debate. I didn’t realize until I was plopped down in the middle of a crowd of pleasant UES ladies that these things weren’t about discourse but just big book clubs for the bourgie set. But a few nuggets of substance were parceled out.

Eggers’ latest novel, [What is the What], is the “autobiography” of Valentino Achak Deng, a Sudanese refugee, and an incredible book in its own right. I had wondered what Adichie might think of Eggers adapting an African’s story into a novel since, in her own book, she has a white English character discard his attempts, finally stating, “This is not my story to tell.” So I filled out my notecard with my question and passed it to the aisle for the little lady to bring to the stage. In his opening comments, author Norman Rush, moderator for the evening, addressed the fact that Africa does not figure prominently into much American fiction, wondering why it is so invisible.

Then he started to rifle through audience questions. After the first couple of typical ones—How did you research the book? What can we do to help in Sudan?—he said, “Oh this one is a bit inflammatory.” He then read my question, which addressed race and authenticity. There was a slight gasp in he audience. What? Did we violate some 92nd Street Y taboo?

Adichie handled the situation well and admitted that when she first heard that Dave Eggers had written this novel, she was annoyed. She was feeling "Africa Fatigue," tired of the whole "helpless Africa" bit. But when she read it she was "surprised and annoyed at how much she liked it," finally, in the end, realizing it's more about "how it's done, rather than who does it."

Eggers also addressed the issue, admitting when he'd read the line in Adichie's book, he'd felt a slap, a reprimand and that he'd struggled with writing Valentino's story, but that Valentino had continually insisted he wanted his story told and that he was not a writer. Plus, Eggers insisted he not be paid for the book, all the money going toward Valentino's college tuition and his foundation to rebuild in his Sudanese village.

The evening ended with not much else being said. But Adichie was pleased of the sold-out evening and said, "At least one thing is certain when you read with Dave Eggers, people will show up." The truth of the matter is that many showed up for Adichie, a much more rare appearance, but the lit celeb factor didn't hurt either.