Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I read this book for my What's in a Name reading challenge. It's only the second book of six I selected to read, so I need to get moving! This book fulfills the requirement of a book with the name of a plant in its title. I actually started to read this in February. I took it to India when we went for my brother-in-law's wedding, and I inadvertently left it at my mother-in-law's flat. By that time I was sufficiently interested in the story that I actually bought myself a new copy and picked up where I left off. Was it worth it? Sure. It was a pleasant read, but I wouldn't say it was life-altering. Here's my synopsis and review.

Purple Hibiscus tells the story of Kambili, a teenage girl growing up in Enugu, Nigeria. She is the daughter of an extremely wealthy industrialist who happens to be very devoutly Catholic. Kambili and her brother, JaJa, live sheltered lives; every moment of their lives is literally planned by their tyrannical father, who creates weekly schedules for them to follow. Life is bleak. Kambili never dares to laugh or smile; he can hardly bring herself to talk. She is a prisoner in her own mind, except her thoughts don't wander from her rigidly planned life long enough for her to realize this. Kambili and JaJa are hardly allowed to interact with their grandfather, because he still practices a traditional African religion.

However, as Nigeria begins to fall apart under a military coup, Kambili and JaJa are sent to live with their aunt, a liberal, feminist university professor, and her children, who have been raised with happiness and joy. Kambili is both intimidated and awestruck by her cousins, the way they laugh, talk, and question so freely. She is also taken Father Amadi, the priest in her relatives' church. Life slowly beings to change for Kambili.

By the end of the novel, nothing is as it was in the beginning. The journey is heartwarming and captivating. It kept me reading. However, there are some parts of the plot that seemed a bit clunky and amateurish to me. I can forgive this--it was the author's first novel and, hey, at least she's putting pen to paper, which is more than I can say for myself. But I *am* curious to read Half of a Yellow Sun, which received infinitely more critical attention--I want to see if she's polished what promises to be a strong, respected West African voice in the future of fine literature.