Chinua Achebe's Induction Remarks

Cambridge, MA, October 5, 2002 - Thank you very much. It's a great honor and privilege. I can't tell you how honored and privileged I feel to be here today receiving this honor. Three years ago, here in Boston, or this is Cambridge, I think, Ernest Hemingway's African writing was considered sufficiently important or interesting by the organizers of his centennial celebration to deserve a panel of its own called Writing Africa. I was on that panel, as was Nadine Gordimer and K. Anthony Appiah and two Americans. One of the major conclusions of our discussion was Hemingway's apparent lack of real interest in his African characters. Professor Appiah contrasted, to good effect, the elaborate attention Hemingway pays to what goes on in the mind of a wounded and vengeful lion in the short story "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber " and with the absence of any concern for what might go on in the minds of African servants who served the whiskey and carried the guns for white hunters on safari. At question time, a young woman, who was clearly offended by our criticism of Hemingway, asked how we would write Africa. To which I replied, read our books. I doubt that she rushed away to follow this advice. If I had to deal with that challenge again, I would be more patient. I would tell that young woman that what African writers do is take stories of Africa written by Westerners and stand them on their head. By giving center stage to those servants who bring the whiskey and carry the guns, as Nadine Gordimer does in July's People and as I do in everything I write, in dealing as we have to do with the gigantic problem of a European language as a medium for writing Africa, I have rejected the exotic broken English preferred in Europe's tradition of so-called African romances. The English language has as many dialects as anyone could wish. From the authorized version of King James's Bible to countless varieties of authorized and unauthorized speech. I chose a version of English capable of matching the eloquence and gravitas of the speech of African elders. If you read the kinds of books I read growing up, in which savages, African savages, are presented, you will remember that they have no speech. They howl or they screech. Make all kinds of other noises.

What I heard growing up in my village was different. And that's what I write about. And I'm going to read you a very short passage. This is an event in the life of the character Okonkwo in my first novel. Okonkwo is in deep trouble. He is exiled from his community. He flees to his mother's village far away and is received by his uncle, but is in great despair. His uncle, seeing that Okonkwo is heading for trouble, someone's called a meeting of the kindred to give advice to Okonkwo.. I'm going to read you what he says:

[Professor Achebe then read a passage from his novel, "Things Fall Apart.]

For more information about this year's new class or about the Induction Ceremony and other Academy events, please call Phyllis Bendell at (617) 576-5047 or email pbendell@amacad.org.

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