bahareads's reviews
1065 reviews

Myriam JA Chancy dazzles again with her beautiful writing. Blending a sad tale with poignant writing and the rekindling of a family. The narrative switches between time and location as readers follow the POV of Sisi and Gertie. The plot takes time to unfold and at times lags. I enjoyed the blend of Haitian Keyol, French and Spanish that took place in the book. I enjoy when authors do not cater to English-speaking audiences (though I fall into that category). The ending made me shed a tear. It was not what I wanted but it was very impactful. I thought the big fight in the book was a tad overdone, but I just hate the miscommunication trope in media

Between the main characters, I enjoyed them both but I was such a fan of Sisi! I could not understand her fascination with Gertie, after being friends for a short amount of time at a young age. The constant belief that Gertie was still one of her 'best friends' even after so much time had passed made me roll my eyes. The book focuses on women and their relationships, whether it was motherhood, sisterhood, daughterhood or romantic. I enjoyed that the most - the othering and decentering of men in the narrative. I enjoyed the unexplained cultural nuances that were sprinkled throughout the book.

I enjoyed the historical settings of each location. I was especially fascinated with the resistance in France by Algerians and Haitians. I also enjoyed reading about fictional characters under the Duvalier Regime. It was a perspective I hadn't gotten the chance to read before in fiction. It made me think about the Chinese under Mao or those in the Dominican Republic under Trujillo. The ever-present terror that sticks with the population and the desire to not step out of line.

Chancy has written another great novel.

Thank you to Tin House for an ARC and finished copy.

His only Wife is was a mindless shallow fun read. I couldn’t stop reading it. I didn’t read the synopsis before I picked it up so I was going in blind. Afi (the main character) has only one goal. There’s only one goal in the book, that’s it. No twists or turns just one thing. To be his only wife.

Afi acted like a child for almost the entire book, until she grew a backbone and realized she was not going to be the chosen one. HOWEVER, it did throw me that she wasn’t a virgin and that she had been with two other men, because honest to God. In my opinion, she was acting like a virgin. Afi being so wary of any other women hurt my heart. Like what happened to girlhood?!

As the course of the book played out, I could see where the plot was heading. It hurt my heart. I didn’t realize all of Reese’s book club books had ‘happy’ endings until Caitlin brought it up. I thought Afi was, maybe, going to be a very miserable woman. It’s crazy (annoying) how all of the contemporary African novels I’ve read recently have the sons seen by everyone in the books as mindless saints in need of protection.

Most of the other characters in the book - Afi’s mom, husband, uncles, aunts, and other side characters - were just there. They were there to further the plot along and provide interactive scenes for Afi to move the plot forward. I liked a few of them, Afi’s favourite cousin for example. But most of them irked me, for all the right reasons. They played their part in the book well.

The growth of Afi did throw me for a loop. She evolved throughout the book from being a ‘backward’ country girl to a ‘posh’ city woman. BUT for her to grow a backbone like she did was something else. I honestly didn’t expect her to be so stout in her resolution regarding what she wanted out of life at the end. There were a few timeline or plot skips that made me peeved. We go from Afi thinking about opening a boutique to her opening one in the span of a few paragraphs. That threw me for a loop. Over all this wasn’t a stand-out book but it was an enjoyable read.

Heterosexual Africa? contributes to Epprecht’s arguments made in his earlier work that a singular, heterosexual identity has been constructed for Africa by scholars and colonial officials which in turn is parroted by African elites. The newest voices to this supposed fallacy are healthcare workers who flocked to Africa following the HIV/AIDs pandemic. Epprecht aims to trace how the “invisible presence of homosexuality” was concocted, conjured, confirmed, and contested over time through various professions (5). Heterosexual Africa? is the history of an idea. The idea is that there is no homosexuality in Africa, which reads and extends like a minor footnote in European intellectual history.

Marc Epprecht criticizes and uses queer theory in his work. He gives the background of the creation of queer theory and the word queer. The constant critique of queer theory throughout the work comes because Epprecht does not believe it is helpful anymore (14). He gives three reasons for this belief; African scholars and Africanists who do gender and sexuality are reluctant to embrace the term ‘queer,’ the efforts to globalize queer theory remain heavily dependent on Western empirical evidence, and in methodological terms queer theory can be very old fashioned (14-15).

While Epprecht makes broad sweeping claims on the whole of Africa, much of his sources come from the Sesotho culture in Lesotho (7). To combat criticism, he says he “casts the search [for source material] as widely as possibly over the whole of Africa south of the Sahara, although, for historical reasons that will be discussed, the pertinent scholarship is far denser in southern Africa” (26). He does not want to impose southern African experiences or models on the whole of Africa but suggests avenues for productive future research in different subregions (27).

He uses terminology that is local and historical when referring to local and historical instances of same-sex sexuality. He also uses terminology that is preferred by African lgbti associations in their activism, which includes using lowercase letters rather than LGBTQIA as is used in the global north. Epprecht also uses the two concepts, cultural intimacy and self-stereotypes, created by anthropologist Michael Herzfeld which were helpful for his study (25).

The book aims to support those African intellectuals. ). Epprecht claims his “goal here is not to position histories of individual lgbti, msm (men having sex with other men), wsw (women having sex with other women), or specific subcultures of nonnormative sexualities in the centre of the picture. Rather it is to focus on how and why they were left out of the picture in the first place, and so often continue to be. It aims at strengthening the argument in favour of a truly holistic and cross-sectorial approach to HIV and AIDS and other sexual health and human rights discussions” (29). In this effort Epprecht does just that with his work Heterosexual Africa?.

I enjoyed the characters the most in this book, out of the entire series. However I hated the way Maas literally decided that the characters could suddenly do whatever the hell they wanted. Like Bryce did not struggle with using the mask at all!! Basically my gripe is the continuity and merging of the worlds. 

Oyeronke Oyewumi’s The Invention of Women is a highly theoretical book. Oyewumi engages with many theorists and scholars from different aspects of academia. She challenges the conclusions many of these scholars have reached in their own studies. Throughout the work, she names over twenty scholars with whom she is conversing in the historiography, especially when it comes to ‘Africa’ and Nigeria at large and then the Yoruba region in a more contained manner. She uses their own words to break down their conclusions, seeing in what ways a Western viewpoint created assumptions that caused the conclusions the scholars have come to. Oyewumi continually hammers her arguments into the text, and while her writing might be considered dogmatic by some it is refreshing to see such conviction on the page.

The Invention of Women raises the question of whether it is possible to do “independent research questions and interests given the western origins of most disciplines and the continued Western dominance of the world” (179). Oyewumi investigates the ‘why’ and ‘how’ of how gender came to be constructed in the south-western Yoruba society and how gender is constituted as a fundamental category in academic scholarship on the Yoruba (xi). While The Invention of Women could be considered a ‘study of gender’ (or lack thereof), it is also a study of the sociology of knowledge. Oyewumi does not shy away from clearly stating her biases in her work, she lays out clearly that she believes social identity, personal experiences and the nature of one’s research impacts the work that one does. She names her social identity, major personal experiences, and how it affects the nature of her own work. She clearly states that events and processes of her life were significant in shaping the questions for this book (xvi). By doing so she allows readers to see clearly the idea of scholarly ‘unbiases’ that many claim to hold is unattainable by academics. Oyewumi limits herself to Oyo-Yoruba culture in the process of this (xii).

Oyewumi recognizes that she is fighting a vast scholarship to show that gender was not an organizing principle in Yoruba society. The focus on patrilineage by anthropologists are significant in deconstructing gender in Yoruba society as the idea to impose gender vision on labour and motherhood is based on assumptions that scholars make (73-74). There are distinctions about history as a lived experience, a record of lived experience in oral tradition and written history that Oyewumi makes (80)

The focus of colonization and how the colonial state pushes the creation of woman as a category contributes to the histography. Oyewumi builds upon people like Frantz Fanon and Albert Memmi. Within the final chapter, Oyewumi looks at how gender was added to the Yoruba language and how Yoruba was and is changing as a result of contact with English and new structures of thought. The Invention of Women is deeply compelling, and a thought-provoking read

Read this on audiobook - amazing narration.

The beginning part of the book was tough to get through. There was a lot was going on but I once we got to 1/3 of the way in it became really enjoyable and I couldn't put it down. I wish there wasn't a cliff hanger... but the universe expansion is going INSANE. The characters' depth and growth was superb

Stay with Me is not memorable though the ending was SHOCKING. Yejide and Akin struggle with infertility issues which results in them entering into polygamy, forced upon them by Akin's mother. Yejide desires so badly to be a mother, yet she also wishes for Akin to be solely loyal to her. Akin has no desire to have a second wife, yet they take one.

At times the book stays stuck in a loop of the characters making the same choices, but it keeps you reading. Once again when I tell you the ending had me HOT, it had me HOT. Throughout the book, Abedayo throws these shocking plot points at the reader which moves the plot along. Those points kept my intrigue peaked when I felt like perhaps putting the book down. The plot is character-based. It is straight forward and there's not much descriptive text.

Stay with Me deals with many themes woven into the text. There are Nigerian politics and culture meshed together in the background of the narrative. I wish I could put my finger one what exactly was lacking for me.

The House of Plain Truth is a story of family fractured. Pearline leaves to go to Jamaica to help take care of her father, who soon passes away. THOPT claims to chart the family's past in Cuba, but readers see only bits and pieces of their life in Cuba which told from Pearline's POV make little sense in the overall narrative. I wanted to explore more of the history between Cuba and Jamaican immigrants. It's jarring how the book flips back and forth in the timeline without warning.

THOPT has phenomenal writing. I imagined myself at the family house and on the land. Pearline is a great main character! I loved how she fought for their family home and to know her family history. The exploration of family and family dynamics is so frustrating (in a good way)!! Pearline's sisters feel some way towards Pearline because she has lived in America all this time while they have stayed in Jamaica. The other characters are more one-dimensional. The plot was lacking in spaces. I wondered where Hemans was taking us, it felt like Pearline was going round' and round' in circles while new characters were being adopted into the fold.

I am highly confused at Pearline's father's DEEP anger towards his older children for their refusal to return to Jamaica. It is a slight to his pride and wounding by the fact that he could not make it in that land. However the fact that her mother let communication dead between her and her older children is a little insane to me. EXTREMELY INSANE TO ME ACTUALLY. Something was missing in THOPT which resulted in the 3 stars.

In Sankofa Anna Bain looks back to the past to discover herself. She travels down the path of realizing that she is related to the president-turned-dictator of a nation in West Africa, Bamana. Sankofa is a slow burn, yet a quick read. I listened to it on audio and enjoyed the narrator immensely. I haven't read many books surrounding middle age women so this was a change. Anna is trying to find herself outside of motherhood and being a wife. Throughout the book, readers see Anna fully recognise all the racism she's experienced in England and reconcile that to herself. Anna's mother (a white woman) tried to make Anna think 'nothing was wrong with her;' and honestly, there is nothing wrong with her, she's just a mixed-race woman growing up in the 60s or 70s(?)

The plot of the book would pick up pace and then slow down again. There's a lot of internal pondering on the part of Anna, we're privy to ALL of her thoughts. I did not like any of the characters in this book. Anna's husband and child were annoying for most of the book. I enjoyed Anna off and on but I liked Anna less when she went to West Africa. She comes into the country with a Western mindset and, honestly, does not try to change the way she thinks at all. She's very opinionated on things she knows nothing about. I could expand but I can't remember particular points. The ending of the book was interesting... I'm glad she was open and reborn into her African self. It was a neat wrap-up for the book.

Sandra Riley is a playwright who, after spending time in The Bahamas, decided to start writing a history of it. This may sound negative but I was pleasantly surprised by this work, it was well-written narrative.

She starts from the formation of the islands (ecological history) and goes up to right after emancipation. All of the chapters are chocked full of source material that she makes GREAT use of. The focus on Abaco was the anchor for narrative was refreshing because many (myself included) tend to use Nassau/New Providence as the anchor. Riley does a lot of telling with no argument, though she does interrogate and interpret source material. She's not trying to prove anything. She's just telling a story.

She uses a lot of colonial office records and missionary accounts for source material, which in turn does hide POC voices. But she does highlight women in every chapter of her work, which is something no one else who does Bahamian history (so far that I have read, 10+ books) has done. She makes sure to hone in on women in every era of life. She even has an interesting incident of prostitution which to me is EXTREMELY intriguing because I have been thinking more and more about prostitution in the history of The Bahamas.

Rile does a great job on the foggy details from 1783-1796 that always seem to be swept up in the phrase 'The Loyalists hated the Conchs (older Bahamian inhabitants) and the Governors.' However she falls into the trap of those in Bahamian historiography that chose to compare slavery by pushing the narrative that Bahamian slavery was not 'that bad' as compared to other places. However over all I think she gives a great view on most historical events in Bahamian history.