Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Paperback
‘Does it help to know that the world is full of people who are sadder than you?’
‘But I am not sad, I just dream.’
I rarely underline or highlight my books, and yet for some reason I had to mark a lot of the passages in Dream Count, as to make sure I would be able to go back and read them again. Very few authors write in a way that speaks to my soul, and Chimamanda’s full-bodied and profound writing style always hits some deep, emotional soft spot in me.
And yet, despite the serious and heartbreaking themes she often includes in her novels, her writing style can also be sweet, and tender, and melancholic. If I had to assign only a word to describe her books, that would not be an adjective but a noun: molasses. Thick and sticky, it lingers on your tongue, so that its sweetness is revealed if enough time is taken to savour it. Hence why I have indulged in reading Dream Count early in the morning or late at night, when I was not distracted by the outside world and I could be fully immersed in the beautiful and complicated lives of Chiamaka, Zikora, Omelogor and Kadiatou. Dream Count is a sneak peek into the lives of these four women who are trying to create a life they can call their own despite the different expectations the African and Western culture are projecting onto them. But even though their lives have turned out very different from their dreams, they can still count on each other.
Before Dream Count, Americanah was the first and only novel I had read from Adichie, besides her short non-fiction memoir Notes On Grief and her essay We Should All Be Feminists. I am now very looking forward to reading her other novels and to enjoy more of her syrupy and touching writing.
Review by Martina