Freshwater

This book made me fall in love with Akwaeke's writing style instantly. Eager to read more

Holy shit. Humans are complex things. Within each of us, there are a multitude of selves that share time on the surface, while inside, our selves banter. This concept is complex but also extremely relatable. There are so many possible interpretations of Freshwater but this idea of fractured identity is essentially what I took from this book, although Akwaeke Emezi (a freaking phenom!!!) put a spiritual and mythological spin on this concept by incorporating ogbanje and other aspects of Igbo culture. Ogbanje is an evil spirit that reincarnates in children to cause grief and suffering within a family. They hide their iyi-uwa deep within the child to avoid detection, as once the iyi-uwa is found and destroyed, the ogbanje is sent back to the spirit world. Also, I think it's important to note - ogbanje are not meant to remain within their human hosts past childhood (as far as I understand but I really understand nothing about this so don't even listen to me tbh). Here, Ada is born with a wealth of ogbanje - and the iyi-uwa is buried deep within her, away from detection. As Ada grows, her other selves grow, in power and in number, as well. First there is the collective "we" of the various ogbanje, who are eventually joined named selves: Asghara, the rebellious "bad girl", and Saint Vincent, the kind heterosexual male identity. These different aspects of the Ada's self make up who she is. They share time using her human form to enact their own desires, whether it's intentionally causing pain to others, or promiscuous sex, or experimenting with sexuality, etc. Warning that there is a lot of trauma involved in reading this, including self-harm, rape, mental illness. I've really never read anything like this. Despite never hearing of these Igbo mythological concepts before, it was completely relatable - I honestly think everyone can relate to this idea of multitude of selves in our single human body. Have you ever had those nights when looking back, you wonder why you did what you did? I just couldn't help but thing of all those instances while reading and it was just such a different reading experience for me. I absolutely loved this honey, I'm adding to my favourites shelf.

An extraordinary journey from start to finish; Freshwater was unlike any of my other reads, simply because it leans so much into the spiritual yet still does not lose its relatability. It is very dark and filled with sorrow, and I found myself lost many times reading, but the thrilling and fascinating writing always kept pulling me back in.

4.5/5

In the words of Daniel Jose Older, this is a “masterpiece.”

4.5 stars

this is one of those rare books that is just perfect - beautifully written, rich with such great symbolism and mythology, so so gripping. one of my favourite fiction reads in a while.

This book is written beautifully, I wish I could give it 5 stars but I just couldn't get into it enough for that.

Closer to 1.75

What a fucking ride this book was. Stunning writing. Absolutely punched me in the gut. Highly recommend. 6/5 stars.

Such an intriguing read. It looks a mental illness through a very unique lens. It blends African culture, Christian ideologies, and life into a mush that is beautiful and hard to read at times but ... it just feel necessary that you get to the end. Is our heroine mentally ill or is she just a vessel for beings that are beyond her control? Are they real or just in her head? Then again, as Dumbledore says to Harry in their weird in-between moment, "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?"

"She was scarred, yes, gouged in places even. But she was - she has always been - a terrifyingly beautiful thing. If you ever saw her at her fullest, you would understand - power becomes the child. She is heavy and unbearably light, still her mother's hatchling. Think of her when the moon is rich, flatulent, bursting with pus and light, repugnant with strength." All I knew going into this book is that everyone I'm connected to on Goodreads rated it very highly. It took me a minute to get into the rhythm of Akwaeke Emezi's prose and to get into a story that is unlike anything I've ever read before. I am, however, glad I stepped outside my reading comfort zone, because Freshwater is a book I will think about for a long time.

This book is astounding. I feel like it got a grip on my throat early on, and didn't really let go. It is poetic, powerful, true... my favourite kind of book (even though I've never read anything quite like it). Definitely my favourite book this year. (And can I say, I have had spectacular reads this month... the last three have been unbelievably good).

I picked this up thinking I wasn't going to enjoy it at all but I really want to challenge myself this year and I'm trying to read books out of my comfort zone. I was wrong. It is one of the most unique novels I've read and it's the first time I've come across this subject matter in literature. Personally, I think it's best to go into Freshwater blind, the less you know the better. Exceptional.

tw: sexual assault, self harm, suicide attempt

This book is very well written and tackles a difficult story beautiful and artistically. Definitely some trigger warnings, but a good read overall.

Very peculiar read with an intense writing style and heavy subjects. It was quite interesting, even if I'm not too familiar with this sort of mythology.

4.5 stars.

I started reading this nearly a year ago, and I honestly had to set it aside a few chapters in. The premise alone was enough to get me interested, but I was just about ready to mark it DNF due to the subject matter alone. It just wasn't my bag at the time, even if, objectively, I could appreciate the writing. I read Emezi's later work, Death of Vivek Oji, weeks later, and enjoyed it, such that I devoured it in one sitting. I thought I'd pick up where I had left off with Freshwater (that, and I get weird about leaving books unfinished). I wish I could say that I liked Freshwater the second time around, but sadly, this just didn't do it for me. I felt simultaneously unsettled and strangely unmoved, the latter probably because I could feel myself mulishly trudging through the last few chapters. (Which in retrospect doesn't make as much sense because Emezi is a fantastic writer? And the prose alone was great?) But I was getting lost beneath the nonlinear timeframe and the intertwining perspectives that it got harder to feel any sense of investment, and by the time I realized that, I was close to done with the book. Anyway, I vastly prefer Death of Vivek Oji if you're looking to read anything by Akwaeke Emezi. Freshwater doesn't really do Emezi's prose justice and its scope is too unwieldy.

We are all made up of many What does it mean to be made up of many? How do we reconcile the multitudes that live within us, that many selves that make up our self? In Freshwater , Akwaeke Emezi takes the metaphorical struggle of being made up of “a village full of faces and a compound full of bones” and makes it literal: Emezi shows us what it would it would mean to come to terms with having so many different spirits living within us by telling us the story of Ada, an ogbanje, a girl who houses spirits. I have housed spirits. I have had to come to terms with multitudes. When I was younger, my bipolar disorder manifested itself in schizoaffective symptoms: I heard voices, was swayed into action by the many who lived inside me. It was a scary time, one that took a lot of care—and medication and therapy—to help me understand that I could listen to myself instead of them. But what if, instead of silencing the many, I learned to embrace them? What if, like Ada, I came to terms that there were spirits inside me that made me who I am, and that was okay; that the presence of multitudes didn’t make me any less of an individual? This is the joy in reading Freshwater : the novel is a journey in learning to understand that we are all fractured selves, that we are all made up of the many. Our journey to that understanding can be a tumultuous one—and Akwaeke Emezi creates poetry out of that tumult as we are guided through Ada’s story—but it is also one that culminates in solace and self-awareness. Perhaps we are all ogbanje in our own ways, and we just don’t have the mythology, the words, to help us express who we really are. (originally published on inthemargins.ca)

First, I would like to thank Grove Atlantic for my copy of Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi, as well as the beautiful letterpress bookmark! Thank you! When I read the synopsis for Freshwater I was instantly intrigued but also a little hesitant to be honest. This isn't a story I would normally have pulled off a bookstore shelf on my own. But much to my surprise, I ended up really taking a lot away from this story. Freshwater left me rattled, it unsettled me and left me anxious for Ada, the main character. Those things aside, this debut is superbly and bravely written in a way I haven't seen in a long time. A beautiful story about a broken girl, Ada, whose mind has been shattered into other "selves", leaving the reader to wonder if those selves are truly gods or simply parts of Ada's brain struggling to survive the events she has lived through. "The world in my head has been far more real than the one outside, maybe that's the exact definition of madness..." p. 93 These fractured selves of Nigerian girl Ada, the collective WE that is telling the story, made me question everything I had previously assumed I knew or felt about depression, suicide, mental illness and multiple personalities. It gave voices to all of those pieces of Ada that had been compartmentalized inside her mind because of early and then later traumas. Some of the passages in this story took my breath away. It was like peering behind a curtain and seeing the truth of something I had only read about. I found myself copying quotes into my journal again and again while reading and also needing to take breaks when bits of the story became too intense. Sometimes this meant rereading a passage or two, to grasp the meaning of what was happening between Ada and her opposing selves inside the marble room of her mind. As much as this wasn't an "easy" story to read, the writing and imagery has left its mark on my heart and is a story that I won't soon forget.

I'm not a terribly diverse reader. In fact, just the other day I was looking at my bookshelf and I realized just how overwhelmingly white (and hella gay, but that's neither here nor there) my bookshelf is. I pick the books I read based on their summaries, and right now I've been super into Brideshead Revisited-y novels about gay Britons. Writers who are not white do not usually write such novels. But it's Black History Month. I don't usually pay attention to arbitrarily named months like Black History Month or Women's History Month or Pride Month because that's just me, but this is a new release that I really wanted to read before it came out and the fact that it was released in February is really just a bonus. However, if you really care about such things, this is my Black History Month read. First of all, wow, Emezi is a wonderful writer. Believe the hype. She has an amazingly lyrical and just altogether beautiful style that I was completely blown away by and couldn't believe it was a debut. Because of the beautiful style, I just flew through this novel, and actually didn't put it down once I picked it up. Even though the book is like 250 pages, I finished it in under an hour, a new record for me I think. In fact, I wonder where those extra 150 pages went! And I was intrigued by the Nigerian legends that Emezi based her novel off of. The idea of the many gods living in Ada's head, making her portrayal of multiple personality disorder wonderfully original. While I still don't know if I believe in the existence of multiple personality disorder personally, Emezi makes an interesting case for it. I do, however, wish that psychiatric treatment got a better rap in the novel. I am an advocate for formal psychiatric diagnosis and treatment of mental disorders, and wish that more literature focused on the positives of being treated by medication or psychotherapy. But that's just me. That being said, I found it hard to relate to Ada. She wasn't a protagonist, she was the vehicle in which the story was told which isn't necessarily a bad thing but it means that I wasn't as sympathetic towards her situation as I could have been because she didn't feel real. Which is probably why this novel didn't do anything in the way of convincing me that MPD was a real thing and not something separate from, say, schizophrenia. I was also disappointed with the poor portrayal of men. Every man in this book is either abusive or fatally flawed in some way. Overall, I really liked Freshwater. I'd definitely recommend picking it up for an interesting portrayal of mental illness and a quick read with beautiful writing. It'd be interesting to see what Akwaeke Emezi does next.