By Chinua Achebe
This can be Chinua Achebe's vintage novel, with greater than million copies offered because its first U.S. booklet in 1969. Combining a richly African tale with the author's willing know-how of the features universal to all humanity, Achebe the following exhibits that he's "gloriously proficient, with the magic of an ebullient, beneficiant, nice talent." -- Nadine Gordimer
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Extra resources for Things Fall Apart: A Novel
He could hear in his mind's ear the blood-stirring and intricate rhythms of the ekwe and the udu and the ogene, and he could hear his own flute weaving in and out of them, decorating them with a colourful and plaintive tune. The total effect was gay and brisk, but if one picked out the flute as it went up and down and then broke up into short snatches, one saw that there was sorrow and grief there. Okoye was also a musician. He played on the ogene. But he was not a failure like Unoka. He had a large barn full of yams and he had three wives.
In short, he was asking Unoka to return the two hundred cowries he had borrowed from him more than two years before. As soon as Unoka understood what his friend was driving at, he burst out laughing. He laughed loud and long and his voice rang out clear as the ogene, and tears stood in his eyes. His visitor was amazed, and sat speechless. At the end, Unoka was able to give an answer between fresh outbursts of mirth. "Look at that wall," he said, pointing at the far wall of his hut, which was rubbed with red earth so that it shone.
You will have what is good for you and I will have what is good for me. Let the kite perch and let the eagle perch too. " After the kola nut had been eaten Okonkwo brought his palm-wine from the corner of the hut where it had been placed and stood it in the centre of the group. " "Nna ayi," he said. "I have brought you this little kola. As our people say, a man who pays respect to the great paves the way for his own greatness. I have come to pay you my respects and also to ask a favour. " Everybody thanked Okonkwo and the neighbours brought out their drinking horns from the goatskin bags they carried.
Things Fall Apart: A Novel by Chinua Achebe