He imagined that somebody had told Eze something similar (…) and so the man had gone after art with the zeal of an invented interest.
Tag: americanah
Perhaps real love was familial, somehow linked to blood, since love for children did not die as romantic love did.
Alexa and the other guests (…)would not understand the need to escape the oppresive lethargy of choicelessness. They would not understand why people like him, who ere raised well fed and watered but mired in dissatisfaction, conditioned from birth to look towards somewhere else, eternally convinced that real lives happened in that somewhere else, were now resolved to do dangerous things, illega things, so as to leave, none of them starving or raped, or from burned villages, but merely hungry for choice and certainty.
It was not the thought of the power that vincent had over him that infuriated him, but the recklessness with which Vincent had exercised it.
Ojiugo wore orange lipstick and ripped jeans, spoke bluntly, and smoked in public, provoking vicious gossip and dislike from other girls, not because she did these things but because she dared to without having lived abroad, or having a foreign parent, those qualities that would have made them forgive her lack of conformity.
There was something in him, lighter than ego but darker that insecurity, that needed constant buffing, polishing, waxing.
She was swallowed, lost in a viscous haze, shrouded in a soup of nothingness. Between her and what she should feel there was a gap.
As she read, America´s mythologies began to take on meaning, America´s tribalisms-race, ideology, and religion-became clear. And she was consoled by her knew knowledge.
Obinze said it was the exaggerated gratitude that came with inmigrant insecurity.