What do you think?
Rate this book
385 pages, Hardcover
First published March 15, 2016
America was passing her by. New York City was passing her by. Bridges and billboards bearing smiling people were passing her by. Skyscrapers and brownstones were rushing by. Fast. Too fast. Forever.
“Home will never go away
Home will be here when you come back
You may go to bring back fortune
You may go to escape misfortune
You may even go, just because you want to go
But when you come back
We hope you'll come back
Home will still be here.”
“In America today, having documents is not enough. Look at how many people with papers are struggling. Look at how even some Americans are suffering. They were born in this country."
"African, and I mean that in the nicest way, honey. Most Americans can't tell Africans from Islanders, but I can pick out an African from a Jamaican any day. I just know these things."
Jende chuckled nervously and said nothing, waiting for Leah to say goodbye and leave, which she didn't. What was she going to say next? he thought. She seemed nice, but she was most likely one of those American women whose knowledge of Africa was based largely on movies and National Geographic and thirdhand information from someone who knew someone who had been to somewhere on the continent, usually Kenya or Africa. Whenever Jende met such women (at Liomi's school; at Marcus Garvey Park; in the livery cab he used to drive), they often said something like, oh my God, I saw this really crazy show about such-and-such in Africa. Or, my cousin/friend/neighbor used to date an African man, and he was a really nice guy. Or, even worse, if they asked him where in Africa he was from and he said Cameroon, they proceeded to tell him that a friend's daughter once went to Tanzania or Uganda. This comment used to irk him until Winston gave him the perfect response: Tell them your friend's uncle lives in Toronto. Which was what he now did every time someone mentioned some other African country in response to him saying he was from Cameroon. Oh yeah, he would say in response to something said about Senegal, I watched a show the other day about San Antonio. Or, one day I hope to visit Montreal. Or, I hear Miami is a nice city. And every time he did this, he cracked up inside as the Americans' faces scrunched up in confusion because they couldn't understand what Toronto/San Antonio/Montreal/Miami had to do with New York."
“America has something for everyone.”
“ His years on earth had taught him that good things happen to those who honor the kindheartedness of others.”
"How could anyone have so much happiness and unhappiness skillfully wrapped up together?”
"I think the story is our best chance for your asylum. We claim persecution based on belonging to a particular social group. We weave a story about how you're afraid of going back home because you're afraid your girlfriend's family wants to kill you so you two don't get married."
"That sounds like something that would happen in India," Winston said. "No one does anything like that in Cameroon."
"Are you trying to say Cameroon is better than India?" Bubakar retorted.
"I'm trying to say Cameroon is not like India."
“You think a black man gets a good job in this country by sitting in front of white people and telling the truth? Please don’t make me laugh.”This novel is set in the run-up to Obama’s historic election, which was also the run-up to the financial crisis.
“The only difference between the Egyptians [during the Bible’s Old Testament calamity]… and the Americans now, Jende reasoned, was that the Egyptians had been cursed by their own wickedness. They had called an abomination upon their land by worshipping idols and enslaving their fellow humans, all so they could live in splendor. They had chosen riches over righteousness, rapaciousness over justice. The Americans had done no such thing.”Near the end of the book two characters discuss a choice the illegal immigrants are considering so that they can stay: to divorce & marry someone else for a green card. Only they cannot figure out if it is right or wrong to consider this choice. The person to whom they speak quotes Rumi:
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.”I have always interpreted that phrase in a different way than Mbue tells us here it can be interpreted. She says Rumi means ‘Let’s not dwell too much on labeling things as right or wrong.’ Which means, doesn’t it, that rightdoing and wrongdoing are relative? I always thought it meant something like ‘Let’s be bigger than our differences.’ If anyone knows the heart of Rumi, please let me know.