Chinua Achebe: An icon of African literature: A man of the people

A dissenting opinion

However, Ibrahim Bello-Kano’s critique of Achebe is far wider ranging. In his chapter, ‘A Dissenting Opinion’, he puts forward the argument that the success of Achebe’s 1958 novel, Things Fall Apart, was due to “the urgent need, by the African literati, to produce an African narrative that would vindicate indigenous African cultures which were heavily denigrated by centuries of Western writers, priests and colonial administrators, rather than intrinsic literary merits…” (Italics added.)

Bello-Kano then gives a further twist of the knife, stating later in his essay that “claims for Achebe being the ‘father of African fiction or literature’ are based on a partial and reductive view of Africa’s literary history, or a diminution of African writing to a minor position within the Western literary tradition”.

Not content to leave his rebuke of Achebe’s huge reputation there (although he does say that the artistic merit of Achebe’s work is ‘fairly considerable, to say the least’), Bello-Kano says that Achebe’s storytelling skills began a “terminal decline” with the 1988 publication of his novel Anthills of the Savannah. “The novel is, by any standard, a trivial thriller and is uneven in linguistic and literary quality”.

‘There was a writer called Chinua Achebe in whose company the prison walls fell down‘ – Nelson Mandela

On first reading this chapter, this reviewer was left to wonder why it should have been included in this book of tributes and reflections.

Could it be that editors Clarke and Currey decided that Achebe himself would have welcomed a ‘dissenting opinion’ being presented?

One might also argue that, even if there are doubts over Achebe’s fictional output, his work in editing the output of the Heinemann African Writers series between 1962 and 1972 was an invaluable contribution to assuring that African writers had any sort of voice, and will forever ensure his posterity.

He saw to it that writers of the calibre of Alex La Guma, Taha Hussein, Ngugi wa Thiongo, Doris Lessing, Ayi Kwei Armah, Tayeb Salih, Bessie Head, Cheik Hamidou Kane, and Okot p’Bitek – as well as nationalist leaders such as Amilcar Cabral, Nelson Mandela, Kenneth Kaunda, Jomo Kenyatta and Kwame Nkrumah – were all published.

James Currey, the founder of the renowned James Currey Publishing imprint (who then worked at Heinemann) collaborated closely with Achebe from 1967 to 1985, and recalls how refreshingly decisive, and invariably prescient, were Achebe’s editorial decisions.

Ngugi wa Thiong’o writes in his appreciation that “[Achebe] was the single most important figure in the development of modern African literature as writer, editor and quite simply a human being”.

So no wonder his embarrassment for being mistaken for the Nigerian writer on various occasions, although he takes some comfort from the fact that there was hardly any writer of his eneration who has not been mistaken for Chinua Achebe. “Every African novel became Things Fall Apart and every writer some sort of Chinua Achebe. Even a protestation to the contrary was not always successful,” wa Thiong’o comments.

But for this reviewer, the most intriguing aspect of Chinua Achebe’s life (never having met the man) was his interaction with others that seems to have had no bounds.

Most of the contributors to this book tell of Achebe’s force of character, his modesty and grace. And, as well, his influence on Nelson Mandela, who said that Achebe’s books served as a huge support to him in prison. “There was a writer called Chinua Achebe,” Madiba wrote, “in whose company the prison walls fell down.”

In a similar vein, it is fascinating to read of the relationship between Achebe and the African-American James Baldwin. Having read Baldwin’s Go Tell it on the Mountain, Achebe, before his first visit to the US, quoted by Anne V Adams, “wanted very much to meet this man with the fearless utterances of Old Testament prophets, and the clarity, eloquence and intelligence of ancient African griots”.

However, Adams notes that Achebe had to wait another two decades to meet him – as Baldwin had gone into self-imposed exile in France – and the two writers finally met in Florida in 1980. Achebe is said to have greeted Baldwin with the words, “I haven’t seen you in 400 years!”.

Yet it would be a mistake to think that Achebe was blinkered by the literary world. In a delightful anecdote, we learn that Achebe, having been offered an honorary doctorate from a US university, made the provision of tickets to attend a concert by the African-American soul singer and pianist Ray Charles a precondition of his acceptance.