Tag Archives: Peace Adzo Medie

Thoughts on the Women’s Prize and Carol Shields Prize Longlists

Yesterday was my 9th blog anniversary! I love that it coincides with International Women’s Day.

It’s traditionally also been the day of the Women’s Prize longlist announcement, but the past two years they’ve brought it forward to pre-empt news of the Carol Shields Prize for Fiction longlist. It’s hard not to see these prizes as being in competition, though the CSP is only for U.S. and Canadian residents; also considers short story collections, graphic novels, and work in translation; and is more deliberate about including trans and nonbinary authors.

Like last year, their lists are extremely different. In 2023 there was no crossover; this year only one novel appears on both (Brotherless Night). Although it’s easier for me to feel engaged with the WP, I’m drawn to reading much more from the CSP list.

 

Women’s Prize

Of my predictions, only 1 was correct, compared to last year’s 4. I got none of my personal wishes, as in 2023. I guess making a wish list is a kiss of death! Once again, we have a mix of new and established authors, with a full half of the list being debut work. Nine of the authors are BIPOC. I’ve read 2 of the nominees and would be agreeable to reading up to 6 more. My library always buys the entire longlist, so I’ll eventually get the chance to read them, but not soon enough to add to the conversation.

Read:

The Wren, The Wren by Anne Enright (CORRECT PREDICTION): Enright’s astute eighth novel traces the family legacies of talent and trauma through the generations descended from a famous Irish poet. The novel switches between Nell’s funny, self-deprecating narration and third-person vignettes about her mother, Carmel. Cycles of abandonment and abuse characterize the McDaraghs. Enright convincingly pinpoints the narcissism and codependency behind their love-hate relationships.

Western Lane by Chetna Maroo: Easy to warm to even if you’ve never played and know nothing about squash. A debut novella that is illuminating on what is expected of young Gujarati women in England; on sisterhood and a bereaved family’s dynamic; but especially on what it is like to feel sealed off from life by grief. This offbeat, delicate coming-of-age story eschews literary fireworks. In place of stylistic flair is the sense that each word and detail has been carefully placed.

 

Will read:

Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad – requested from the library

8 Lives of a Century-Old Trickster by Mirinae Lee – on my Kindle from NetGalley

 

Interested in reading:

In Defence of the Act by Effie Black – queer novella, suicide theme

And Then She Fell by Alicia Elliott – Indigenous Canadian, postpartum depression theme

Soldier Sailor by Claire Kilroy – Irish author, new motherhood theme

The Blue, Beautiful World by Karen Lord – Black sci-fi author

 

Maybe:

Brotherless Night by V.V. Ganeshananthan – see below

 

Not interested in reading:

Hangman by Maya Binyam – meh

The Maiden by Kate Foster – not keen on historical mysteries, and this looks very commercial

Restless Dolly Maunder by Kate Grenville – will read more Grenville, but not this one any time soon

River East, River West by Aube Rey Lescure – have read mixed reviews

Nightbloom by Peace Adzo Medie – disliked her debut novel

Ordinary Human Failings by Megan Nolan – enjoyed her first novel, but DNFed this

A Trace of Sun by Pam Williams – nah

 

See also the reactions posts from Eric and Laura.

 

Predictions:

I’d expect to see two or three of the Irish writers on the shortlist, plus probably Western Lane, Enter Ghost, and a couple of other wildcards (but not the SF novel). Enter Ghost, set in Palestine, would certainly be a timely winner…

 

What comes next:

Shortlist (6 titles) on 24 April and winner on 13 June.

 


Carol Shields Prize

After I badgered the administrators for six months about Q&A responses that never materialized, they kindly offered me digital review copies of any of the nominees that I’m not able to easily access in the UK. This is, in general, a more rigorous list of highbrow literary fiction, with some slight genre diversity thanks to Catton and Makkai (plus a mixture of historical and contemporary fiction, three story collections, and one book in translation); 10 of 15 authors are BIPOC. There are further details about all the nominees on the website.

Read:

I Have Some Questions for You by Rebecca Makkai – When an invitation comes from her boarding school alma mater, Granby, to teach a two-week course on podcasting, Bodie indulges her obsession with the 1995 murder of her former roommate. Makkai has taken her cues from the true crime genre and constructed a convincing mesh of evidence and theories. She so carefully crafts her pen portraits, and so intimately involves us in Bodie’s psyche, that it’s impossible not to get invested. This is timely, daring, intelligent, enthralling storytelling. (Delighted to see this nominated as I hoped the WP would recognize it last year.)

 

Skimmed and didn’t care for:

Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton

Loot by Tania James

 

Will read:

Land of Milk and Honey by C. Pam Zhang – requested from the library

 

Know little or nothing about but will happily read if I get a chance:

Cocktail: Stories by Lisa Alward

Dances by Nicole Cuffy

Daughter by Claudia Dey

Between Two Moons by Aisha Abdel Gawad

You Were Watching from the Sand: Short Stories by Juliana Lamy

The Future by Catherine Leroux, translated by Susan Ouriou – has just won Canada Reads

A Council of Dolls by Mona Susan Power

Chrysalis: Stories by Anuja Varghese

 

Less interested in reading:

Brotherless Night by V. V. Ganeshananthan – Sri Lankan civil war setting

Coleman Hill by Kim Coleman Foote – Fictionalized family memoir with 9 POVs

A History of Burning by Janika Oza – Big Indian-Ugandan multigenerational story

 

Predictions:

Not the first clue. Come back to me after I’ve read a few more.

 

What comes next:

Shortlist (5 titles) on 9 April and winner on 13 May.

 

What have you read, or might you read, from the longlists?

Book Serendipity, Mid-February to Mid-April

I call it “Book Serendipity” when two or more books that I read at the same time or in quick succession have something in common – the more bizarre, the better. This is a regular feature of mine every couple of months. Because I usually have 20–30 books on the go at once, I suppose I’m more prone to such incidents. The following are in roughly chronological order.

Last time, my biggest set of coincidences was around books set in or about Korea or by Korean authors; this time it was Ghana and Ghanaian authors:

  • Reading two books set in Ghana at the same time: Fledgling by Hannah Bourne-Taylor and His Only Wife by Peace Adzo Medie. I had also read a third book set in Ghana, What Napoleon Could Not Do by DK Nnuro, early in the year and then found its title phrase (i.e., “you have done what Napoleon could not do,” an expression of praise) quoted in the Medie! It must be a popular saying there.
  • Reading two books by young Ghanaian British authors at the same time: Quiet by Victoria Adukwei Bulley and Maame by Jessica George.

And the rest:

  • An overweight male character with gout in Where the God of Love Hangs Out by Amy Bloom and The Secret Diaries of Charles Ignatius Sancho by Paterson Joseph.

 

  • I’d never heard of “shoegaze music” before I saw it in Michelle Zauner’s bio at the back of Crying in H Mart, but then I also saw it mentioned in Pulling the Chariot of the Sun by Shane McCrae.

 

  • Sheila Heti’s writing on motherhood is quoted in Without Children by Peggy O’Donnell Heffington and In Vitro by Isabel Zapata. Before long I got back into her novel Pure Colour. A quote from another of her books (How Should a Person Be?) is one of the epigraphs to Lorrie Moore’s I Am Homeless If This Is Not My Home.
  • Reading two Mexican books about motherhood at the same time: Still Born by Guadalupe Nettel and In Vitro by Isabel Zapata.

 

  • Two coming-of-age novels set on the cusp of war in 1939: The Inner Circle by T.C. Boyle and Martha Quest by Doris Lessing.

 

  • A scene of looking at peculiar human behaviour and imagining how David Attenborough would narrate it in a documentary in Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson and I Have Some Questions for You by Rebecca Makkai.

 

  • The painter Caravaggio is mentioned in a novel (The Things We Do to Our Friends by Heather Darwent) plus two poetry books (The Fourth Sister by Laura Scott and Manorism by Yomi Sode) I was reading at the same time.
  • Characters are plagued by mosquitoes in The Last Animal by Ramona Ausubel and Through the Groves by Anne Hull.

 

  • Edinburgh’s history of grave robbing is mentioned in The Things We Do to Our Friends by Heather Darwent and Womb by Leah Hazard.

 

  • I read a chapter about mayflies in Lev Parikian’s book Taking Flight and then a poem about mayflies later the same day in Ephemeron by Fiona Benson.

 

  • Childhood reminiscences about playing the board game Operation and wetting the bed appear in Homesick by Jennifer Croft and Through the Groves by Anne Hull.
  • Fiddler on the Roof songs are mentioned in Through the Groves by Anne Hull and We All Want Impossible Things by Catherine Newman.

 

  • There’s a minor character named Frith in Shadow Girls by Carol Birch and Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier.

 

  • Scenes of a female couple snogging in a bar bathroom in Through the Groves by Anne Hull and The Garnett Girls by Georgina Moore.

  • The main character regrets not spending more time with her father before his sudden death in Maame by Jessica George and Pure Colour by Sheila Heti.

 

  • The main character is called Mira in Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton and Pure Colour by Sheila Heti, and a Mira is briefly mentioned in one of the stories in Before You Suffocate Your Own Fool Self by Danielle Evans.

 

  • Macbeth references in Shadow Girls by Carol Birch and Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton – my second Macbeth-sourced title in recent times, after Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin last year.
  • A ‘Goldilocks scenario’ is referred to in Womb by Leah Hazard (the ideal contraction strength) and Taking Flight by Lev Parikian (the ideal body weight for a bird).

 

  • Caribbean patois and mention of an ackee tree in the short story collection If I Survive You by Jonathan Escoffery and the poetry collection Cane, Corn & Gully by Safiya Kamaria Kinshasa.

 

  • The Japanese folktale “The Boy Who Drew Cats” appeared in Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng, which I read last year, and then also in Enchantment by Katherine May.
  • Chinese characters are mentioned to have taken part in the Tiananmen Square massacre/June 4th incident in Dear Chrysanthemums by Fiona Sze-Lorrain and Oh My Mother! by Connie Wang.

 

  • Endometriosis comes up in What My Bones Know by Stephanie Foo and Womb by Leah Hazard.

What’s the weirdest reading coincidence you’ve had lately?

Literary Wives Club: His Only Wife by Peace Adzo Medie

(My fourth read with the Literary Wives online book club; see also Kay’s review and Naomi’s review.)

{SPOILERS IN THIS ONE}

Peace Adzo Medie’s 2020 debut novel was the first disappointment I’ve had from Reese Witherspoon’s book club. The Kirkus review excerpt inside the paperback’s front cover should have given me an idea of what to expect: “A Cinderella story set in Ghana … A Crazy Rich Asians for West Africa.” While both slightly reductive, those comparisons do give some sense of the book’s tone and superficiality.

Afi Tekple is a seamstress whose family arranges for her to marry Elikem Ganyo, a rich international businessman who has properties all over Ghana. In a neat bit of symmetry, I read a novel earlier this year that opened with a traditional Ghanaian divorce ceremony where the husband was in absentia (What Napoleon Could Not Do); this opens with a traditional wedding ceremony where, again, the groom isn’t there. The giving of schnapps as part of a dowry is a customary element of both.

The first half of the novel was agonizingly slow. Afi and her mother do little but sit in an opulent Accra flat, waiting for Eli to grace them with his presence. When he does appear, what luck! (eye roll) he and Afi have a magical sexual connection, described in romance novel language. But he’s only there part time, dividing his attentions between households. Afi enrols in fashion school, cooks and keeps house for Eli, and falls pregnant with his son, Selorm. (In another instance of poor pacing, we then jump to a year after the birth.) It should be a perfect life, yet she’s not happy because there is a rival for her husband’s affections.

You see, Eli’s family chose Afi in the hope that she’d get him to give up the Liberian woman who gave birth to his sickly daughter. They despise Muna for her independent spirit and transgressive behaviour. Although Afi knew about Muna, she doesn’t realize the extent to which she was the Ganyos’ pawn until late on. Meanwhile, Afi has gone from a timid country girl to a confident, high-class boutique owner accustomed to modern conveniences. She won’t ignore her longing to move into Eli’s house and get their marriage legally recognized. She issues an ultimatum: either she’s the only, official wife or she’s out of there.

I kept expecting a showdown between Afi and Muna; then, the further I got, the more I feared Muna wouldn’t appear at all. She does have a scene, 20 pages from the end, and instantly takes on more contours than the evil stereotype the Ganyos have spread, yet it doesn’t change Afi’s jealousy and determination to live independently. I hoped for more of a message of understanding and sisterhood. Initially, the arranged marriage plot reminded me of a particular Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie short story, but Afi’s narration was only so-so and there were more grammar and vocabulary errors than I’m used to encountering in conventionally published work. This might appeal to readers of Ayobami Adebayo’s Stay with Me. (Public library)

The main question we ask about the books we read for Literary Wives is:

What does this book say about wives or about the experience of being a wife?

My main takeaway from His Only Wife is that a marriage doesn’t work if there’s someone interfering – and that refers to Afi’s mother-in-law probably more so than it does to Muna.

Eli just wants to have his cake and eat it. He thinks he should be free to accumulate as many cars and houses and women as he wants. He never intended to leave that woman and you all knew it … I want him to be mine only. Is that too much to ask? I’m sorry that I’m not like other wives who are able to happily share their husbands with co-wives and mistresses and girlfriends. That’s just not me. I’m not built like that.

I was a little uncomfortable that Medie presents legal marriage and monogamy as the only viable option, with Afi coming to disparage the village ceremony she had and wanting the fairy tale proposal in Paris and church wedding instead. Polygamy has a long tradition in countries including Ghana and Nigeria; it might have been interesting for Medie to explore contrasting attitudes toward it. Instead, this feels like pandering to Western tastes.


Next book: The Harpy by Megan Hunter in June