Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart follows a wealthy and respected warrior, Okonkwo, living in a late 1800’s Nigerian tribe. Haunted by the actions that led his father, Unoka, into exile, Okonkwo leads his life by rejecting his father’s feeble and “feminine” demeanor. To fully denounce his father’s scarred reputation, Okonkwo embodies, what he feels, is an ideal warrior to a great extreme. While Okonkwo hopes to gain the respect of his clan, his actions that reflect this warrior construct are interpreted differently by his fellow clansmen.

Achebe immerses readers in pages of pure Igbo culture, bringing readers into a full understanding of the societal customs and government of the Igbo people in Nigeria at this moment in time. However, the end of the novel is met with the growing and consuming influence of British colonial expansion. Through tactics of pacification and outward violence, the colonial missionaries successfully break apart Okonkwo’s tribe. When Okonkwo attempts to resist these abrupt changes, his clan responds indifferently to his ambition. Through this rejection, Okonkwo meets his tragic downfall as a result of his weak collective identity.

Achebe concludes in the novel with a jarring transition into the perspective of a colonial missionary, in which the missionary decides to write a novel, titled The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger, that encapsulates Okonkwo’s tragic and complex life into a single paragraph. The demeaning language used in this title, as well as the arrogance and indifference highlighted in the missionary’s brief inclusion of Okonkwo, struck me the hardest. I felt that the most significant moment of the novel occurred at the end, in which Achebe illuminates a major global issue: outsider perspectives, such as that of the missionary, diminish and flatten the depth of insider perspectives.

While insider perspectives show depth and reality, outsider perspectives can misrepresent, simplify, or erase the lived reality of underprivileged groups. The insensitivity of an outsider can strip the dignity and traditions of an insider, creating a contrast between what readers know and what an outsider records. Ultimately, Achebe’s novel presents readers with a universal message: perspective directs our knowledge and only those with first-hand knowledge and experience should have the privilege of telling their story.

Book Review: Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Last summer, I decided to explore contemporary international literature further when I discovered Chinua Achebe’s African Trilogy, starting with Things Fall Apart, a book about an Igbo warrior’s struggle against British colonialism and the devaluation of his culture. I found this book particularly interesting, as it offered a new, first-person perspective of the effects of European colonialism that no history textbook could really replicate.

The book begins with an introduction to Okonkwo, the main character of this novel, who is a wealthy warrior and a “man of title” in his hometown of Umuofia. From a young age, Okonkwo adopts an opposite view of life to that of his father, Unoka, whom he viewed as weak and “effeminate” due to his laziness and love for the arts. Due to this start, Okonkwo worked as hard as possible to rise above his condition, gaining a rigid worldview as a result.

As the story progresses, Achebe reveals more aspects of pre-colonial Africa through his storytelling. After a funeral ceremony ritual involving a gun salute goes wrong, resulting in the death of a 16-year-old, Okonkwo gets exiled for 7 years to his motherland, Mbanta, as a punishment for his direct involvement. In Mbanta, Okonkwo begins to hear stories from his friend, Obierika, about the arrival of European missionaries. As years pass in exile, Okonkwo witnesses the devaluation of their traditional religious beliefs and values.

Through Okonkwo, Achebe attempts to explore the theme of masculinity as one that is central to the novel, particularly through Okonkwo’s rigid ideals about strength and weakness, which render him stoic to a fault. Okonkwo’s rigid categorization of activities that he considers “feminine” and “masculine,” along with his struggle to remain in control throughout the novel, can ultimately be interpreted as reasons behind his inability to adapt to changing circumstances.

Overall, I found Achebe’s storytelling style, as well as the narrative that this book sends, incredibly powerful. Through his usage of proverbs and an accurate depiction of traditional Igbo culture, Achebe paints a vivid picture of pre-colonial African society and gives the reader a new perspective on the effects of European colonialism. I would recommend this book, as well as the other two books in this trilogy, to anybody who is interested in world history, particularly the history of African literature.

Scorpions by Walter Dean Myers.

Scorpions is a Newbery Honor book by Walter Dean Myers.  This novel tells the story of Jamal Hicks, a twelve-year-old boy living in Harlem.  Growing up in a challenging environment, Jamal faces tough decisions and growing pressure from his peers.  His older brother, Randy, is in jail for murder.  Randy’s absence leaves a void in Jamal’s life that other people seem to be trying to fill.  Jamal is approached by a member of Randy’s gang, the Scorpions.  He wants Jamal to take charge of the gang’s drug dealing business.  Jamal feels torn because he wants to stay out of trouble but he also needs money because his family is struggling financially.  As Jamal’s life becomes increasingly complicated and dangerous, he relies on his friendship with a loyal and thoughtful young man named Tito.  Tito helps Jamal as they navigate through difficult situations.

One of my favorite things about his book is its message about friendship and trust.  I appreciated the loyalty between Jamal and Tito.  They are just young kids trying to do the right thing in a world that keep throwing hardships and challenges at them.  This book shows the importance of having someone who has your back, especially if you are a kid dealing with things that no young person should have to deal with.  I like the way this book teaches to do the right thing even when it seems like the whole world around you is corrupt.  Unfortunately, this book has some inappropriate language and a bit of violence.  The story as a whole is also somewhat frightening and depressing, so I would not recommend this book to children.  However, older readers could benefit from the messages of this insightful book.

Book Review: Little Women

Little Women is a semi-autobiographical novel by Louisa May Alcott that explores themes of family, identity, and the tension between personal ambition and traditional expectations for women, particularly during the Civil War era. The story follows the four March sisters—Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy—as they navigate growing up, facing hardship, and discovering who they want to become in a world that limits women’s roles and freedoms.

On the surface, Little Women might seem like a sweet, domestic tale, but it goes much deeper. Each sister struggles with her own dreams and limitations: Meg longs for stability and elegance, Jo fights to break free from gender roles to become a writer, Beth seeks peace and home, and Amy wrestles with her ambition and desire for refinement. Their journeys are rich with emotional nuance, and Jo in particular stands out as a deeply relatable character for readers who have ever questioned whether the life expected of them is the one they truly want.

One of the most powerful aspects of the book is how it presents the quiet strength and complexity of women’s lives. Alcott doesn’t dramatize the sisters’ challenges, but she writes them with compassion and clarity. Jo’s struggle with her temper, her ambition, and her resistance to conventional paths like marriage captures a sense of restlessness and yearning that still resonates today.

What makes Little Women stand out is its emphasis on choice and self-discovery within the bounds of family and society. The sisters are constantly making decisions about who they want to be—not just in terms of careers or relationships, but morally and emotionally. Jo’s internal battle between her desire for independence and her love for her family is especially compelling, and Alcott doesn’t offer easy answers.

The novel doesn’t shy away from sadness or loss—Beth’s illness and eventual death are deeply moving—but there’s also a steady current of hope and resilience. The March family endures, grows, and finds joy even in hardship. That balance between hardship and warmth is part of what makes Little Women such a lasting and beloved story.

I found this book emotionally rich and surprisingly modern in its themes. Alcott’s writing is heartfelt and honest, and she gives each sister her own voice and dignity. Little Women might not be fast-paced, but it’s deeply rewarding—especially for anyone interested in stories about women, family, and the lifelong process of becoming yourself. I’d give it a 7/10 for its timeless insight and emotional depth.

Book Review: The Catcher in the Rye

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger is often considered a classic coming-of-age novel, centered around a teenager named Holden Caulfield who has just been kicked out of yet another prep school. The story follows Holden as he wanders around New York City over a few days, trying to make sense of the adult world, his own emotions, and the loss of innocence.

The book is famous for its first-person narration, which is written in Holden’s distinct voice—full of slang, sarcasm, and a lot of complaints. He constantly talks about how “phony” everyone is and seems to be angry at just about everything. Some people really connect with that sense of disillusionment, especially during adolescence, but honestly, I found it kind of exhausting. Instead of feeling sympathy for Holden, I mostly just felt annoyed. He’s clearly going through something serious, like depression or grief, but the way he expresses it made it hard for me to really care about what he was saying.

I think part of the reason I didn’t enjoy the book is that not much actually happens. It’s more of a stream-of-consciousness story than a plot-driven one. Holden drifts from one place to another, meets a few people, and talks a lot about how much he dislikes things. The themes—like growing up, identity, and loneliness—are important, but I personally felt like the book didn’t explore them in a way that held my attention.

That said, I understand why some people really like this novel. It was groundbreaking when it first came out, especially for its honest portrayal of teenage confusion and alienation. And there are moments that are thoughtful—like when Holden talks about wanting to protect kids from the harshness of the adult world, which ties into the book’s title. But for me, it just didn’t live up to the hype. I found Holden hard to relate to and the story repetitive.

I’d give The Catcher in the Rye a 5/10. I can respect its place in literary history and see how it might resonate with others, but it just wasn’t for me. If you’re into character-driven stories and don’t mind a narrator who’s more about feelings than action, you might still find it interesting.

Book Review: Lord of the Flies

Lord of the Flies is a classic allegorical novel by William Golding that explores the dark side of human nature. The story begins when a group of British schoolboys are stranded on a deserted island after a plane crash. At first, they try to create their own society, complete with rules, leadership, and a sense of order. But as time passes and the boys’ civilized behavior begins to break down, the island turns into a place of chaos, fear, and violence.

What makes this book so fascinating—and disturbing—is how quickly things fall apart. Without adults to guide them, the boys are left to figure out right and wrong on their own, and it doesn’t take long before power struggles, fear, and savagery take over. The conflict between Ralph, who represents order and democracy, and Jack, who symbolizes primal instinct and the desire for control, shows how fragile civilization really is when it’s not supported by structure and values.

One of the most powerful ideas in the book is that evil isn’t something that comes from outside—it’s inside all of us. The “Lord of the Flies,” a pig’s head on a stick left as an offering to a mysterious “beast,” becomes a symbol of the darkness living in every human. The real horror of the story isn’t monsters or ghosts, but what people are capable of when rules disappear and fear takes over.

As the story progresses, the island transforms from a tropical paradise into a nightmare. Innocence is lost, friendships are broken, and the line between civilization and savagery completely disappears. The ending is shocking, but it also leaves you thinking about how thin the line really is between order and chaos.

I found Lord of the Flies intense, haunting, and incredibly thought-provoking. Even though it’s about kids, the themes feel very adult—power, fear, violence, and the struggle to stay moral in an immoral world. Golding’s message is unsettling, but important: when left unchecked, our darkest instincts can take over. I’d give this book a 8/10 for its chilling message and powerful storytelling. It’s a must-read for anyone interested in psychology, leadership, or how quickly society can fall apart under pressure.