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(More customer reviews)In the old council flats of London, a tragic event ripples through gang and racial warfare. James, a local black British teen from a *successful*crack-dealing family, and his best friend, Ashvin, a poet-loving Somali refugee, jump off a towering building, nooses around their necks, in a suicide pact. Ashvin dies and James survives. Ashvin's sister, Armeina (Meina), hooks up with James in shared grief to forge a tentative but tender friendship. This is their story.
There is a lot of potential in this plaintive novel of redemption. It has heart, and it murmurs. It doesn't quite sing, though. The story is narrated largely through Meina, with a few sections by James and other characters. The primary problem is that the author didn't adequately distinguish the separate voices of James and Meina--they are too similar. Even the cadence is synonymous, which you wouldn't expect from two people from separate countries and disparate backgrounds. Meina was raised in an educated home, by intellectual parents, and witnessed their terrifying, horrifying massacre at the hands of the Ethiopians during civil war strife. James was reared by the horrors and betrayals of his family and neighborhood. The lack of narrative distinction distracted and removed me from the immediacy of the story and conferred an unnatural tenor.
The book was described as tautly constructed, written with a controlled rage. I disagree. Rather, the voices were a bit precious and lacking in the subtext necessary for the reader to register the contained rage. There was restraint, but it was unintentional. The wattage was dimmed by authorial trepidation, as if Akinti was unsure of asserting the fury of his characters. This created a languid tone and lack of muscle in the prose delivery. It felt like he was playing it safe to ensure that we connected with and liked the characters. I would have preferred that he liberate himself from that self-conscious mode and get out of his own way.
Interestingly, his graphic scenes are very well done, crafted with menacing weight. They were not gratuitous. On the contrary, they exploded with tormenting finesse, like a coiled thunder. It permeated the prosaic air with a crackling heat. The violence that the Somalians endured during more than dozen civil wars is heartbreaking. And the devestrating terrors perpetrated on the youth in this London neighborhood are merciless and harrowing.
If this debut novel went through a few more drafts, it could be a dazzling, evocative story, as Akinti's talent is evident. I look forward to seeing how he evolves.
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