There's a complete spoiler-ridden review on my blog.Helen Oyeyemi (is that an awesome name or what?!) was only eighteen when she wrote this novel. I've seen no word as to why a novel so closely tied to Africa has a title taken from Greek mythology! The story begins with Jessamy Harrison hiding in a cupboard. Her mother finally locates her and asks her how she would like to go to Nigeria for a vacation, and off they go to visit her mum's family. Jess feels just as alienated in Nigeria as she did in England, but things change for her.Two things happen in Nigeria other than what the story purports to relate. One is Oyeyemi's annoying use of Nigerian words to 'describe' things without actually describing the thing - so we learn nothing of the Yoruba language or of Nigeria! I don’t know why authors do this! There's no glossary, but at least there's no prologue, so that kinda balances out!The other thing is that Jess's grandfather is very patriarchal and condescending towards women. They’re more like servants than fellow human beings. He resents Jess's mom for not doing what he expected of her, which was that she would go to med school. Instead she went the English language route and became a writer. Despite this, Jess takes a liking to him. I don't know what bearing Jess's mom's history has on this story if any.At one point, Jess's skin is described thus; "..milky coffee-colored...". I've seen someone complain about the use of foodstuffs (chocolate, coffee) to describe dark skin coloring. I don’t understand this complaint! Are we being accused of cannibalism? The people who complain about this seem not to grasp that things have more than one attribute. Coffee, for example, is a drink, a bean, a bush, and it's also a color. When people use the term to describe a person's skin, they aren't comparing that person with a beverage, or a seed, or a plant! What are we supposed to do? Say the person was as brown as dirt?! Describe them as the color of feces? Given that choice, I sure know which I'd rather be compared with! Having said that, there is always room for more thought on the part of the writer; perhaps some weight should be given to comparing a character's attributes with something which is much more personal to the character or their history.One day, Jess notices a faint light in a building in her grandfather's compound which shouldn’t be there. She's been told the building used to be the boys (servant's) quarters but is no longer in use. Slavery in Africa! Jess, of course, has to investigate and she finds the place in complete disuse and covered in dust, but in one place in this dust is written 'HEllO JEssY', which causes her to feel distinctly uncomfortable, since this is the second time since she's been in Nigeria that she's been called something she's not used to. Her grandfather called her by her Nigerian name, Wuraola, when he first met her. I found it intriguing that both times the 'hello Jessy' term is used, the letters which are in lower case are the twin letters in each word.Later, Jess meets Titiola, evidently the girl who wrote her name in the dust. The first few things she says are merely repetitions of what Jess says to her, but later Jess is drawn to her grandfather's locked study, where she finds the door unaccountably open and TillyTilly (as Jess has now dubbed her) waiting inside for her. The two of them look at some of his books, by candle-light - candles TillyTilly has apparently stolen from the house. Later, Jess finds a copy of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women by her bed with HEllO JEssY written in it. Evidently it's a gift from her new friend.I like Jess already. She has a peculiar way of looking at life that actually comports with my own in many regards, and she loves books! I particularly loved her when I found that she likes to annotate the books she reads with her own improvements added in pencil to the original text! I don’t do this, but I do think this at times! So now Oyeyemi has me invested in her character, and I will never forgive her if she lets harm befall young Jess!One day TillyTilly shows up and asks Jess to go to the local amusement park with her, except that it’s not so local when you have to walk there. Since it’s Sunday, the park is closed, but TillyTilly somehow makes the padlocked gate open and they spend a fun time in there playing until the electricity shuts off, whereupon TillyTilly suggests that Jess go home. She does, and gets into a bit of trouble from her folks for disappearing. Soon - surprisingly soon - it’s time for Jess to return to England. She's supposedly been in Nigeria for a month, but the way the story was told made it seem like it was only a week or so.Back in England, school starts up again and Jess starts having her usual problems with people there. She has no real friends and resents the behavior of some of her class-mates. It’s almost like Jess is an actor, trying to perform in a certain way to fit in with the production called "day to day life", but her fellow actors are so average that she really can’t see how the performance will rise to the height it should be at, and all-too-often (once-per-week according to Jess's own calculations, on average), Jess evidently has a breakdown because of this, whereupon she doubles over, and screams and screams. This naturally causes considerable consternation, but no one seems to know what to do about it. The doctors can find nothing physically wrong with her and Jess doesn’t feel able to communicate anything of utility on this problem to her parents.Then Tilly-Tilly shows up and things go from bad to worse to disturbing to deadly serious. I highly recommend this book.
I am not sure what it was about this book that didn't engage me. I have to admire the fact that it was written when the author was in her last year at secondary school. And there is some very good writing in this novel. But somehow the book just misses the mark.The premise is interesting, if familiar, and suited to magic realism. A highly sensitive and imaginative child divided between cultures (the Nigerian of her mother and white British of her father) goes visit her grandfather in Nigeria where she meets TillyTilly who may or may not be a figment of her imagination, who may or may not be a ghost or spirit of her dead twin. But the book's ending comes in a rush and doesn't resolve matters. It leaves you in mid-air. I have no problem with ambiguity, I wouldn't like magic realism if I had, but this ending did not work. I think that as a white Brit I probably needed more clarity about the Nigerian folk beliefs that lie behind the story.The book is written very much from the point of view of Jess, although on a few occasions the viewpoint slips, for example becoming that of Jess' friend Shivs, before flicking back to Jess once more. Whilst having a single person point of view can strengthen a book and the reader's empathy with the main character, it can also cause problems. As Jess is alienated from her friends, teachers and parents, so I found my understanding of them tended to be limited and two dimensional. The other problem was that I lost empathy for Jess, who came over as a hysterical and possibly manipulative little girl. I realize this review has been pretty negative so far but the book does have a lot going for it, including some lovely writing. The concept is ambitious and the subject matter - sisters, friends (imaginary and otherwise), twins, alienation and dual nationality - is promising (maybe the writer was trying to do too much as is so often the case with a first book) and overall I would give the book three stars, were this a blog that graded books. It's just that I have read some incredible books as part of this challenge and I would recommend you read them first.
Do You like book The Icarus Girl (2006)?
The first time this book caught my eye was when I heard that the author, Helen Oyeyemi, was only 17 years old at the start of this book. Being only 16, this of course sparked my interest, then I heard what the book was actually about and I knew I had to read it. Being an obsessor of fairy tales and where the line is drawn between good and bad, I could have sworn this book was written for me. I was not disappointed.The character of TillyTilly was absolutely fascinating, one second seeming as an apparant savior for poor Jess the next second it seemed that TillyTilly was a demon sent from another world to torture Jess. I especially loved how easily the lines blurred between dreams and reality, and how I was totally caught up in trying to figure the mystery out. I have very little knowledge of any tribal beliefs from anywhere so the twist was a major twist for me and was something I did not see coming.Of course there were a few minor things, parts that could have been executed a bit better and so on and so forth but all in all a great debut from a new author.
—Veronika
I wanted to love this book. The themes of duality, sisters/twins, and cultural identity were engaging, but it seemed like these were never fully explored, despite the length of the book. The author, Helen Oyeyemi, spends over 300 pages drawing readers into her story, inviting them to wonder what kind of entity is at play with the main character, Jess/Wuraola. Jess is the nine-year-old daughter of a Yoruba, Nigerian mother and an English father. Jess is an exceptionally clever child, but has not developed her social abilities as quickly. She has the tendency to scream when she feels frustration or fright and has difficulty making friends. She remains lonely until she discovers a new playmate, Titiola ("TillyTilly"), on a visit to her grandfather's compound in Nigeria. Throughout the book, I couldn't quite figure out if Titiola was a ghost, an imaginary friend (no), or a some kind of Nigerian spirit. So much build-up would seem to demand a dramatic finish and a final confrontation between Jess and TillyTilly. Instead, the story fizzles out in the last six (6!) pages. As I neared the end, I kept wondering how in the world Oyeyemi was going to wrap this up--Not well, in my opinion.Despite these problems, the book includes some beautiful passages and character descriptions. [I forgot to mention that Oyeyemi was just 21 when Icarus Girl was published, a fantastic accomplishment for her.:] I particularly like Jess' Yoruba grandfather and the way their initial meeting is portrayed:"...she [Jess:] allowed herself to stare openly and seriously at her grandfather, and he did the same. She felt as if she were a little piece of him that had crumbled off, which he was examining for flaws and broken bits before deciding whether it was worth taking it to be reattached" (21)and the way Oyeyemi through Jess describes what a relationship between sisters should be:"...sisters was something about being held without hands, and the skin-flinch of seeing and simultaneously being seen" (211)Beautiful writing from an author with amazing potential. I didn't love this book, but I will read anything produced by Oyeyemi in the future.
—Lauralee
This has a pretty, literary cover and a pretty, literary title and so I thought it would be, at most, part of the Todorovan fantastic, maybe it is real and maybe it is imagined/insanity, which, honestly, I find one of the most boring conceits in all of literature most of the time. But no! There is an ACTUAL GHOST. Or perhaps not a ghost. But an actual supernatural being. Structurally, this is a very traditional ghost story. The prose is lovely, but my favorite thing is Jess and her reserve (must type up favorite quote). Her grandfather is also wonderful. The parents are very well done, too, you can see the gap between what they understand and what Jess understands, and they're not vilified at all. The ending's a bit abrupt.
—Mely
