Homegoing
Reviews
perfect. 10/10. my favorite kind of book
“Just because somebody sees, hears, or feels something other folks can’t, doesn’t mean they’re crazy. My grandma used to say, ‘A blind man doesn’t call us crazy for seeing.’”
What a mind blowing way to take a reader through a generational journey. The depiction of pain, identity and belonging, while dealing with racial trauma, left me in awe. Humans are… the worst. Another great debut novel!
I’m stunned. Gyasi has narrated pain and beauty beyond compare. Her words have been thwarting, warming, harrowing and healing. I wish I could write like Yaa Gyasi.
Honourable mention tysvvvm Shahab and Charlotte <3
I am in awe of this book. Gyasi beautifully entraps you in the generational consequences of the slave trade. The novel grapples with the notion of identity and what it truly means to belong. The novel allows you to become entrapped in each generation and keeps you in a chokehold.
If you enjoyed the exploration of generational trauma in Marquez’s A Hundred Years of Solitude, you’ll surely love this book too. It traces the descendants of two half sisters with polar opposite fates through eight generations. Gyasi’s writing hooks you so much that it’s incredible to think this was her debut novel. While, as outsiders, we may never fully grasp the depths of racial trauma induced by their captivity, it’s essential to develop an awareness of how their indelible experiences have shaped the formation of one of the most powerful nations we know today.
An absolute masterpiece of family across generations
Ambitious arc that traces the legacy of the Transatlantic Slave trade from inception to today. Structured as the POV of each generation of Fantes from West Africa starting with a pair of half sisters - one that marries a British Governor and the other sold as a slave - and ending with two young Black Americans. The novel is a knotted and connected series of short stories of historical fiction with the descendants as lens into different struggles and triumphs, although fewer of the latter. Deeply personal characters that intimately share their thoughts and concerns that go beyond their immediate dangers of racism, crime and bodily harm. They all deal with love, jealously, betrayal, parenthood and identity. Simultaneously inward and epic, this is a triumph of creativity.
I have not even finished reading it, and I know that this book is going to be in my favourites of all time. Such a well-written book that accurately depicts the experiences of Africans and Black people as a whole throughout history, and not in a cliche way either. As a daughter of Ghanian parents who immigrated to North America, I feel a certain connection with a book. It's as if it fills the missing pieces that I have been looking for when trying to figure out who I am as a person. Absolutely in love ❤️every person should read this, white or black.
Wow. This is a remarkable debut. Yaa Gyasi's intertwining stories are beautiful and heartbreaking. I can't wait to see more from her.
I love family sagas and I honestly wish this one was longer. It weaves the stories of various generations of a family through separations and migrations and an eventual reunion. It was beautiful and painful and definitely worth a read.
4.5
This is in a league of its own. Unique, ambitious, and demanding of a reader's heart and attention. I only wish I had more time with each character.
Required reading.
i did not think i was gonna finish this at first LOL, reminded me so much of half of a yellow sun. it was tough, it was beautiful, it was haunting, and it made me miss nigeria in a way i haven't in a long time! the past is definitely closer than we think.
I really wanted to like this, but the format of it ended up being too much. Each chapter ended up being a short story with very minor connections to the chapter before it, and there really was not enough time for proper character development.
This was a slow book for me, but I liked it. I absolutely loved the ending, and you understand the way the story gets weaved from beginning to end, really full circle, with points of view switching from generation to generation. It was well written, and well narrated. The narrator had an African accent in the earlier POVs, and as the later generations were American, the accents changed and developed.
So so amazing fr
7/10
yaa gyasi is a gifted writer. what is really striking in HOMEGOING for me is how she effortlessly write multi perspectives and giving distinct, lived in voices to each of her characters. reading this book made me understand so much more about black rage and how every little things we did or did not get involved in it will still affect us and everyone else too. those ripple effects can be damaging whether we want/acknowledge of it.
Second time through just as good.
4.5
if you need a reason to hate white people this book will be it. otherwise a masterpiece, could not recommend enough.
This book is exactly what I needed right now !!!
I cannot believe this book was only 300 pages and managed to accomplish so much. Not a single word is wasted, and it feels like a book I could reread again and again to pick apart all the little details and symbolism that the author included. There are no less than 14 POV characters in this book and every single one feels like a distinct, fully realized person. I loved seeing how each generation of characters built upon the last and served as a snapshot of their own time period.
I’m having to hold myself back from writing a full essay about this book, so I’ll just say: it’s absolutely worth the read.
A new favorite! Takes you on an incredible journey.
Highlights
El perdón era un acto que tenía lugar después de actuar, un pedazo del futuro de la mala obra. Y si consigues que la gente mire al futuro, tal vez no se dé cuenta de lo que estás haciendo para herirlos en el presente.
begun to seem to him like a word the white men brought with them when they first came to Africa. A trick their Christians had learned and spoke loudly and freely about to the people of the Gold Coast. Forgive- ness, they shouted, all the while committing their wrongs.
The need to call this thing "good" and this thing "bad," this thing "white" and this thing "black," was an impulse that Effia did not under- stand.
“You want to know what weakness is? Weakness is treating someone as though they belong to you. Strength is knowing that everyone belongs to themselves."
You can learn anything when you have to learn it. You could learn to fly if it meant you would live another day.
Then next time bring more water, but don’t cry for this time. There should be no room in your life for regret. If in the moment of doing you felt clarity, you felt certainty, then why feel regret later?
A lioness. She mates with her lion and he thinks the moment is about him when it is really about her, her children, her posterity. Her trick is to make him think that he is king of the bush, but what does a king matter? Really, she is king and queen and everything in between.
It's not just because I'm scared of drowning. Though I guess I am. It's because of all that space. It's because everywhere I look, I see blue, and I have no idea where it begins. When I'm out there, I stay as close as I can to the sand, because at least then I know where it ends.
How could he explain to Marjorie that what he wanted to capture with his project was the feeling of time, of having been a part of something that stretched so far back, was impossibly large, that it was easy to forget that she, and he, and everyone else, existed in it--not apart from it, but inside of it.
Marcus thought about that day often. He was still amazed by it. Not by the fear he'd felt throughout the day, when the woman who was no more than a stranger to him had dragged him farther and farther from home, but by the fullness of love and protection he'd felt later, when his family had finally found him. Not the being lost, but the being found. It was the same feeling he got whenever he saw Marjorie. Like she had somehow, found him.
“Love her,” Cobbe commanded, as though love were as simple an act as lifting food up from an iron plate and past one’s lips.
Hell was a place of remembering, each beautiful moment passed through the mind’s eye until it fell to the ground like a rotten mango, perfectly useless, uselessly perfect.
All of it.
Structural system that emprisons/limits minorities, with special emphasis to black people.
“Evil it begets evil. It grows. It transmites, so that sometimes you cannot see that the evil in the world began as the evil in your own home.” “When someone does wrong (…) it is like a fisherman casting a net into the water. He keeps only the one or two fish that he needs to feed himself and puts the rest in the water, thinking that thei livres will go back to normal. No one forgets that they were once captive, even if they are now free.”
Sometimes as he slept the chains would rub against his ankles in such a way that he would remember the feeling of Ethe’s hands there, which always surprised him, since metal was nothing like skin.
Yaw listened as his best friend told him that he hd explained to the girl that you could not inherit a scar. (…) Yaw no longer knew if he believed this was true.
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