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Collected Poems
A collection of poetry spanning the full range of the African-born author's acclaimed career has been updated to include seven never-before-published works, as well as much of his early poetry that explores such themes as the African consciousness, the tragedy of Biafra, and the mysteries of human relationships.
84 pages, Paperback
First published August 1, 2004
About the author
Chinua Achebe
137 books3,749 followersWorks, including the novel
Things Fall Apart
(1958), of Nigerian writer Chinua Achebe describe traditional African life in conflict with colonial rule and westernization.
This poet and critic served as professor at Brown University. People best know and most widely read his first book in modern African literature.
Christian parents in the Igbo town of Ogidi in southeastern Nigeria reared Achebe, who excelled at school and won a scholarship for undergraduate studies. World religions and traditional African cultures fascinated him, who began stories as a university student. After graduation, he worked for the Nigerian broadcasting service and quickly moved to the metropolis of Lagos. He gained worldwide attention in the late 1950s; his later novels include No Longer at Ease (1960), Arrow of God (1964), A Man of the People (1966), and Anthills of the Savannah (1987). Achebe defended the use of English, a "language of colonizers," in African literature. In 1975, controversy focused on his lecture An Image of Africa: Racism in Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" for its criticism of Joseph Conrad as "a bloody racist."
When the region of Biafra broke away from Nigeria in 1967, Achebe, a devoted supporter of independence, served as ambassador for the people of the new nation. The war ravaged the populace, and as starvation and violence took its toll, he appealed to the people of Europe and the Americas for aid. When the Nigerian government retook the region in 1970, he involved in political parties but witnessed the corruption and elitism that duly frustration him, who quickly resigned. He lived in the United States for several years in the 1970s, and after a car accident left him partially disabled, he returned to the United States in 1990.
Novels of Achebe focus on the traditions of Igbo society, the effect of Christian influences, and the clash of values during and after the colonial era. His style relied heavily on the Igbo oral tradition, and combines straightforward narration with representations of folk stories, proverbs, and oratory. He also published a number of short stories, children's books, and essay collections. He served as the David and Marianna Fisher university professor of Africana studies at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, United States.
ollowing a brief illness, Achebe died.
This poet and critic served as professor at Brown University. People best know and most widely read his first book in modern African literature.
Christian parents in the Igbo town of Ogidi in southeastern Nigeria reared Achebe, who excelled at school and won a scholarship for undergraduate studies. World religions and traditional African cultures fascinated him, who began stories as a university student. After graduation, he worked for the Nigerian broadcasting service and quickly moved to the metropolis of Lagos. He gained worldwide attention in the late 1950s; his later novels include No Longer at Ease (1960), Arrow of God (1964), A Man of the People (1966), and Anthills of the Savannah (1987). Achebe defended the use of English, a "language of colonizers," in African literature. In 1975, controversy focused on his lecture An Image of Africa: Racism in Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" for its criticism of Joseph Conrad as "a bloody racist."
When the region of Biafra broke away from Nigeria in 1967, Achebe, a devoted supporter of independence, served as ambassador for the people of the new nation. The war ravaged the populace, and as starvation and violence took its toll, he appealed to the people of Europe and the Americas for aid. When the Nigerian government retook the region in 1970, he involved in political parties but witnessed the corruption and elitism that duly frustration him, who quickly resigned. He lived in the United States for several years in the 1970s, and after a car accident left him partially disabled, he returned to the United States in 1990.
Novels of Achebe focus on the traditions of Igbo society, the effect of Christian influences, and the clash of values during and after the colonial era. His style relied heavily on the Igbo oral tradition, and combines straightforward narration with representations of folk stories, proverbs, and oratory. He also published a number of short stories, children's books, and essay collections. He served as the David and Marianna Fisher university professor of Africana studies at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, United States.
ollowing a brief illness, Achebe died.
Ratings & Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews
September 6, 2013
I found a copy of Achebe’s collected poems at the library quite by chance. It’s a thin book with less than 90 pages. The book was split into five sections: Prologue, Poems About War, Poems Not About War , Gods, Men and Others, and Epilogue. I enjoyed these simple poems that dealt with various topics, including war,love, African life and mythology.
In 1966, Achebe says:
“Absentminded
our thoughtful days
sat at dire controls
and played indolently.”
The section entitled Poems About War discussed the Biafran War. “Christmas in Biafra” was especially poignant:
“This sunken-eyed moment wobbling
Down the rocky steepness on broken
Bones slowly fearfully to hideous
Concourse of gathering sorrows in the valley
Will yet become in another year a lost
Christmas irretrievable in the heights.”
I also liked Pine Tree in Spring, which was dedicated to Leon Damas:
“Pine tree
flag bearer
of green memory
across the breach of a desolate hour
Loyal tree
that stood guard
alone in austere emeraldry
over Nature’s recumbent standard
Pine tree
lost now in the shade
of traitors decked out flamboyantly
marching back unabashed to the colors they betrayed
Fine tree
erect and trustworthy
what school can teach me
your silent, stubborn fidelity?”
All in all, a nice poetry collection that made me wish Achebe had written more.
In 1966, Achebe says:
“Absentminded
our thoughtful days
sat at dire controls
and played indolently.”
The section entitled Poems About War discussed the Biafran War. “Christmas in Biafra” was especially poignant:
“This sunken-eyed moment wobbling
Down the rocky steepness on broken
Bones slowly fearfully to hideous
Concourse of gathering sorrows in the valley
Will yet become in another year a lost
Christmas irretrievable in the heights.”
I also liked Pine Tree in Spring, which was dedicated to Leon Damas:
“Pine tree
flag bearer
of green memory
across the breach of a desolate hour
Loyal tree
that stood guard
alone in austere emeraldry
over Nature’s recumbent standard
Pine tree
lost now in the shade
of traitors decked out flamboyantly
marching back unabashed to the colors they betrayed
Fine tree
erect and trustworthy
what school can teach me
your silent, stubborn fidelity?”
All in all, a nice poetry collection that made me wish Achebe had written more.
April 25, 2012
The poetry in this collection was divided in four sections. "Prolouge","Poems about War", "Poems not about War",Epilouge.
The most powerful and my fav poem in the collection "A Mother In A Refugee Camp," about a mother's love for her child, her hopeless acceptance of that child's imminent death from starvation. Achebe painted a haunting image of the mother in few lines.
Other favs are "Mango Seedling","Lazarus","Lament of the Sacred python","Dereliction","Knowing Robs Us. There were many different poems in the collection, there were some humorous,ironic,cheerful ones too. Mostly i enjoyed the ones that was clearly about the myths,legends of his culture,country. The ones about war becomes more powerful with his writing,his intelligence.
Only reason i dont rate this collection 5 stars is because the second half of the poems was not as brilliant as the first half.
The most powerful and my fav poem in the collection "A Mother In A Refugee Camp," about a mother's love for her child, her hopeless acceptance of that child's imminent death from starvation. Achebe painted a haunting image of the mother in few lines.
Other favs are "Mango Seedling","Lazarus","Lament of the Sacred python","Dereliction","Knowing Robs Us. There were many different poems in the collection, there were some humorous,ironic,cheerful ones too. Mostly i enjoyed the ones that was clearly about the myths,legends of his culture,country. The ones about war becomes more powerful with his writing,his intelligence.
Only reason i dont rate this collection 5 stars is because the second half of the poems was not as brilliant as the first half.
May 21, 2017
Bear with me my love
in the hour of my silence;
the air is crisscrossed by
loud omens and songbirds
fearing reprisals of middle day
have hidden away their notes
wrapped up in leaves of cocoyam….
[...]
I will sing only in waiting
silence your power to bear
my dream for me in your quiet
eyes and wrap the dust of our blistered
feet in golden anklets ready
for the return someday of our
banished dance.
in the hour of my silence;
the air is crisscrossed by
loud omens and songbirds
fearing reprisals of middle day
have hidden away their notes
wrapped up in leaves of cocoyam….
[...]
I will sing only in waiting
silence your power to bear
my dream for me in your quiet
eyes and wrap the dust of our blistered
feet in golden anklets ready
for the return someday of our
banished dance.
May 19, 2022
I finally got to this! Chinua Achebe is one of my favorite novelists, writers, and thinkers. His work is foundational to me as a historian of Africa. I had read some of his poems in his final work, There was a Country; but this slim volume has given me the opportunity to pour over a variety of his poems. Achebe's poems are impressive. Like Things Fall Apart and Arrow of God, Achebe writes poems from his Igbo worldview without apology. Readers of his novels will recognize the names of Igbo gods and Igbo practices. Owing to this, I felt part of Achebe's world. Yet because I am not fully versed in the nuances of Igbo philosophy and religion I had to rely on a generous section of endnotes in which Achebe explained some of the more unique Igbo beliefs and practices. Again, like Things Fall Apart and Arrow of God, Achebe wrote some poems that criticized the coming of Christianity among the Igbo; while there were other poems in which Achebe made clear allusions to biblical themes. This is where Achebe presented what one may refer to as his own version of "double consciousness." This is a volume I recommend to everyone who loves Achebe's novels.
July 24, 2018
The book was split into five sections: Prologue, Poems About War, Poems Not About War , Gods, Men and Others, and Epilogue. I enjoyed these simple poems that dealt with various topics, including war,love, African life and mythology.
The most powerful and my fav poem in the collection "A Mother In A Refugee Camp," about a mother's love for her child, her hopeless acceptance of that child's imminent death from starvation. Achebe painted a haunting image of the mother in few lines .. All in all, a nice poetry collection that made me wish Achebe had written more.
The most powerful and my fav poem in the collection "A Mother In A Refugee Camp," about a mother's love for her child, her hopeless acceptance of that child's imminent death from starvation. Achebe painted a haunting image of the mother in few lines .. All in all, a nice poetry collection that made me wish Achebe had written more.
January 24, 2019
Me gustaron especialmente los poemas de la guerra. Supongo que son los mas impactantes.
Algunos de los otros, he de reconocer que no los comprendi demasiado bien, quiza no los lei con el detenimiento adecuado (cambiando estaciones en el tren...)
En general, interesantes pero no me han llamado demasiado.
Algunos de los otros, he de reconocer que no los comprendi demasiado bien, quiza no los lei con el detenimiento adecuado (cambiando estaciones en el tren...)
En general, interesantes pero no me han llamado demasiado.
November 11, 2013
I read this very slim book today and found it memorable and touching. Chinua Achebe is from Nigeria and is much-honored there. Especially appropriate for today is the poem "After a war"
After a war life catches
desperately at passing
hints of normalcy like
vines entwining a hollow
twig; its famished roots
close on rubble and every
piece of broken glass.
Irritations we used
to curse return to joyous
tables like prodgals home
from the city....The meter man
serving my maiden bill brought
a friendly face to my circle
of sullen strangers and me
smiling gratefully
to the door.
After a war
we clutch at watery
scum pulsating on listless
eddies of our spent
deluge....Convalescent
dancers rising too soon
to rejoin their circle dance
our powerless feet intent
as before but no longer
adept contrive only
half-remembered
eccentric steps.
After years
of pressing death
and dizzy last-hour reprieves
we're glad to dump our fears
and our perilous gains together
in one shallow grace and flee
the same rueful way we came
straight home to haunted revelry.
After a war life catches
desperately at passing
hints of normalcy like
vines entwining a hollow
twig; its famished roots
close on rubble and every
piece of broken glass.
Irritations we used
to curse return to joyous
tables like prodgals home
from the city....The meter man
serving my maiden bill brought
a friendly face to my circle
of sullen strangers and me
smiling gratefully
to the door.
After a war
we clutch at watery
scum pulsating on listless
eddies of our spent
deluge....Convalescent
dancers rising too soon
to rejoin their circle dance
our powerless feet intent
as before but no longer
adept contrive only
half-remembered
eccentric steps.
After years
of pressing death
and dizzy last-hour reprieves
we're glad to dump our fears
and our perilous gains together
in one shallow grace and flee
the same rueful way we came
straight home to haunted revelry.
November 22, 2018
A Mother in a Refugee Camp
No Madonna and Child could touch
Her tenderness for a son
She soon could have to forget….
The air was heavy with odors of diarrhea,
Of unwashed children with washed-out ribs
And dried-up bottoms waddling in labored steps
Behind blown-empty bellies. Other mothers there
Had long ceased to care, but not this one:
She held a ghost-smile between her teeth,
And in her eyes the memory
Of a mother's pride…. She had bathed him
And rubbed him down with bare palms.
She took from their bundle of possessions
A broken comb and combed
The rust-colored hair left on his skull
And then—humming in her eyes—began carefully to part it.
In their former life this was perhaps
A little daily act of no consequence
Before his breakfast and school; now she did it
Like putting flowers on a tiny grave
No Madonna and Child could touch
Her tenderness for a son
She soon could have to forget….
The air was heavy with odors of diarrhea,
Of unwashed children with washed-out ribs
And dried-up bottoms waddling in labored steps
Behind blown-empty bellies. Other mothers there
Had long ceased to care, but not this one:
She held a ghost-smile between her teeth,
And in her eyes the memory
Of a mother's pride…. She had bathed him
And rubbed him down with bare palms.
She took from their bundle of possessions
A broken comb and combed
The rust-colored hair left on his skull
And then—humming in her eyes—began carefully to part it.
In their former life this was perhaps
A little daily act of no consequence
Before his breakfast and school; now she did it
Like putting flowers on a tiny grave
April 16, 2010
Select poems from this were a joy to read, but the book as a whole felt a bit uneven. The final piece, "We Laughed At Him" was probably my favorite, though I also loved "Dereliction" and "Those Gods Are Children." For some reason, I was hoping to find more of a music to the poems than was there. Achebe's work has always seemed musical to me, and I felt that this collection was missing somewhat in that. The poems are, however, accessible and short, so I think anyone even vaguely interested should have this out from the library and take a quick look.
March 30, 2012
I don't think I like poetry very much.
December 9, 2015
Essential to understanding the work of Chimamanda Adichie and the crisis of the Nigerian Civil War.
May 16, 2019
Me being just an underling, did love the feeling and the complexity in each poem, but I'm going to go ahead and do some research about this book because there's some amazing concepts in here that I know almost nothing about. Had to keep shuttling between the book and Google. And now, I'm going to learn more. Wish me luck! 😁
June 18, 2017
Solid book of poems
January 11, 2023
underrated
November 3, 2023
3.75 ⭐️’s.
December 10, 2023
Poetry has always been out of reach for me. Most of the time I don’t get it. Nevertheless here I found some powerful images, especially in some of the poems about war.
January 31, 2021
Still without a doubt the greatest author
March 2, 2017
I'm not really a poetry reader. My favorites are "A Mother in a Refugee Camp" and "Air Raid." Both very sad, very dark.
November 12, 2009
Within the bright yet unremarkable cover of this small book is the world as seen through the eyes of Mr. Chinua Achebe. The world witnessed by this talented Nigerian-born author and poet contains death, hope, strife, hunger, joy, love, wisdom, and wonder—and Achebe ushers his audience on an emotional journey through them all. As I read Collected Poems, I became more interested in the poet himself and was driven to learn more about the man behind the words. What continues to impress me the most about Achebe is the half-century span of his creative effort and quiet achievement in literature. As I thought more on this, I found that beside his sometimes brutally heart-wrenching imagery, what disturbs me about this man’s literary work is that America is mostly unaware of its existence.
As undeniable proof that big things come in small packages, Achebe’s mastery of the English vocabulary shines in this thin but powerful collection of poetry. He begins with a short preface then presents his poetry in five categorized chapters. At the back of the book are a few pages of notes, which I found to be a welcome and indispensable reference.
Steeped in the tragedies of a Biafra too soon forgotten, the chapter titled “Poems About War” is perhaps the most compelling. Achebe brings to light aspects of war sometimes overlooked. For example, in “A Mother In A Refugee Camp”, a mother’s love for her child converges with her hopeless acceptance of that child’s imminent death from starvation. Passing on into the chapter of “Poems Not About War,” the reader will discover such gems as “Public Execution In Pictures” and marvel at Achebe’s ability to capture the emotion of such an event. The poem expresses gratitude that children who see atrocities in newspaper photographs have not themselves witnessed them firsthand. At the same time, there is an unspoken regret that they may never fully understand injustice and or human suffering.
Much of this book has seen prior publication in 1973’s Christmas in Biafra and Other Poems. For those of us whose memory of the Biafran War has grown dim and for those unfortunate enough not to have read his earlier book, the reintroduction of Achebe’s vision in Collected Poems is nothing short of a gift. So mired are we in our own day-to-day minutia that we rarely notice what has happened or what is happening elsewhere in human terms. Mr. Achebe has, with his elegant words in Collected Poems, given both a reason and a means to see beyond our own doorstep.
As undeniable proof that big things come in small packages, Achebe’s mastery of the English vocabulary shines in this thin but powerful collection of poetry. He begins with a short preface then presents his poetry in five categorized chapters. At the back of the book are a few pages of notes, which I found to be a welcome and indispensable reference.
Steeped in the tragedies of a Biafra too soon forgotten, the chapter titled “Poems About War” is perhaps the most compelling. Achebe brings to light aspects of war sometimes overlooked. For example, in “A Mother In A Refugee Camp”, a mother’s love for her child converges with her hopeless acceptance of that child’s imminent death from starvation. Passing on into the chapter of “Poems Not About War,” the reader will discover such gems as “Public Execution In Pictures” and marvel at Achebe’s ability to capture the emotion of such an event. The poem expresses gratitude that children who see atrocities in newspaper photographs have not themselves witnessed them firsthand. At the same time, there is an unspoken regret that they may never fully understand injustice and or human suffering.
Much of this book has seen prior publication in 1973’s Christmas in Biafra and Other Poems. For those of us whose memory of the Biafran War has grown dim and for those unfortunate enough not to have read his earlier book, the reintroduction of Achebe’s vision in Collected Poems is nothing short of a gift. So mired are we in our own day-to-day minutia that we rarely notice what has happened or what is happening elsewhere in human terms. Mr. Achebe has, with his elegant words in Collected Poems, given both a reason and a means to see beyond our own doorstep.
January 27, 2011
Achebe explains in his parable-preface that whenever he tried to get his poetry published, he heard, "We do very well with your novels, you know." Luckily, he eventually changed publishers. Here are a few of his incredible poems:
The First Shot
That lone rifle-shot anonymous
in the dark striding chest-high
through a nervous suburb at the break
of our season of thunders will yet
steep its flight and lodge
more firmly than the greater noises
ahead in the forehead of memory.
A Mother in a Refugee Camp
No Madonna and Child could touch
Her tenderness for a son
She would soon have to forget....
The air was heavy with odors of diarrhea,
Of unwashed children with washed-out ribs
And dried-up bottoms waddling in labored steps
Behind blown-empty bellies. Other mothers there
Had long ceased to care, but not this one:
She held a ghost-smile between her teeth,
And in her eyes the memory
Of a mother's pride.... She had bathed him
And rubbed him down with bare palms.
She took from their bundle of possessions
A broken comb and combed
The rust-colored hair left on his skull
And then--humming in her eyes--began carefully to part it.
In their former life this was perhaps
A little act of no consequence
Before his breakfast and school; now she did it
Like putting flowers on a tiny grave.
Vultures
In the greyness
and drizzle of one despondent
dawn unstirred by harbingers
of sunbreak a vulture
perching high on broken
bones of a dead tree
nestled close to his
mate his smooth
bashed-in head, a pebble
on a stem rooted in
a dump of gross
feathers, inclined affectionately
to hers. Yesterday they picked
the eyes of a swollen
corpse in a water-logged
trench and ate the
things in its bowel. Full
gorged they chose their roost
keeping the hollowed remnant
in easy range of cold
telescopic eyes...
Strange
indeed how love in other
ways so particular
will pick a corner
in that charnel-house
tidy it and coil up there, perhaps
even fall asleep - her face
turned to the wall!
...Thus the Commandant at Belsen
Camp going home for
the day with fumes of
human roast clinging
rebelliously to his hairy
nostrils will stop
at the wayside sweet-shop
and pick up a chocolate
for his tender offspring
waiting at home for Daddy's
return...
Praise bounteous
providence if you will
that grants even an ogre
its glow-worm
tenderness encapsulated
in icy caverns of a cruel
heart or else despair
for in the very germ
of that kindred love is
lodged the perpetuity
of evil.
The First Shot
That lone rifle-shot anonymous
in the dark striding chest-high
through a nervous suburb at the break
of our season of thunders will yet
steep its flight and lodge
more firmly than the greater noises
ahead in the forehead of memory.
A Mother in a Refugee Camp
No Madonna and Child could touch
Her tenderness for a son
She would soon have to forget....
The air was heavy with odors of diarrhea,
Of unwashed children with washed-out ribs
And dried-up bottoms waddling in labored steps
Behind blown-empty bellies. Other mothers there
Had long ceased to care, but not this one:
She held a ghost-smile between her teeth,
And in her eyes the memory
Of a mother's pride.... She had bathed him
And rubbed him down with bare palms.
She took from their bundle of possessions
A broken comb and combed
The rust-colored hair left on his skull
And then--humming in her eyes--began carefully to part it.
In their former life this was perhaps
A little act of no consequence
Before his breakfast and school; now she did it
Like putting flowers on a tiny grave.
Vultures
In the greyness
and drizzle of one despondent
dawn unstirred by harbingers
of sunbreak a vulture
perching high on broken
bones of a dead tree
nestled close to his
mate his smooth
bashed-in head, a pebble
on a stem rooted in
a dump of gross
feathers, inclined affectionately
to hers. Yesterday they picked
the eyes of a swollen
corpse in a water-logged
trench and ate the
things in its bowel. Full
gorged they chose their roost
keeping the hollowed remnant
in easy range of cold
telescopic eyes...
Strange
indeed how love in other
ways so particular
will pick a corner
in that charnel-house
tidy it and coil up there, perhaps
even fall asleep - her face
turned to the wall!
...Thus the Commandant at Belsen
Camp going home for
the day with fumes of
human roast clinging
rebelliously to his hairy
nostrils will stop
at the wayside sweet-shop
and pick up a chocolate
for his tender offspring
waiting at home for Daddy's
return...
Praise bounteous
providence if you will
that grants even an ogre
its glow-worm
tenderness encapsulated
in icy caverns of a cruel
heart or else despair
for in the very germ
of that kindred love is
lodged the perpetuity
of evil.
January 17, 2017
Most of these poems did not grab or move me. They are erudite, drawing on tropes from Igbo culture and from European letters. I'm sure I missed a lot of both, but for example caught an echo of W.H. Auden's Musee des Beaux Arts ("About suffering they were never wrong./ The old Masters: how well they understood/ its human position...") in Achebe's poem 'Lazarus' ("..How well they understood, those grim-faced/ villagers wielding their crimson/ weapons once more, how well/ they understood ..."). In this case, the villagers don't understand suffering; they understand justice, and kill the victim of an automobile accident because they have just killed the driver, and fear punishment if the victim unexpectedly survives. It's a kind of counterpoint to Auden's vision - not just that people's lives are parochial and we lack empathy for distant pain, but that we are so perverse as to make a bad situation that much more painful.
Another poem I liked a great deal is 'Dereliction':
I quit the carved stool
in my father's hut to the swelling
chant of saber-tooth termites
raising in the pith of its wood
a white-bellied stalagmite
Where does a runner go
whose oily grip drops
the baton handed by the faithful one
in a hard, merciless race? Or
the priestly elder who barters
for the curio collector's head
of tobacco the holy staff
of his people?
Let them try the land
where the sea retreats
Let them try the land
where the sea retreats
An explanatory footnote indicates that the three sections of the poem are meant to be attributed to different narrators: the first, asking the question; the second, a priest, meditating; and the third, the answer of the oracle. What to do if one has failed to carry out one's inherited responsibilities? I take the oracle - to go to the land where the sea has retreated - as a signal that there is no real solution, since the tide will turn and the sea will come back in, drowning that refuge. I wonder what the poem meant to Achebe in the context of his own life - the failed effort to free Biafra (the subject of several other poems), his own eventual permanent relocation to the United States.
Another poem I liked a great deal is 'Dereliction':
I quit the carved stool
in my father's hut to the swelling
chant of saber-tooth termites
raising in the pith of its wood
a white-bellied stalagmite
Where does a runner go
whose oily grip drops
the baton handed by the faithful one
in a hard, merciless race? Or
the priestly elder who barters
for the curio collector's head
of tobacco the holy staff
of his people?
Let them try the land
where the sea retreats
Let them try the land
where the sea retreats
An explanatory footnote indicates that the three sections of the poem are meant to be attributed to different narrators: the first, asking the question; the second, a priest, meditating; and the third, the answer of the oracle. What to do if one has failed to carry out one's inherited responsibilities? I take the oracle - to go to the land where the sea has retreated - as a signal that there is no real solution, since the tide will turn and the sea will come back in, drowning that refuge. I wonder what the poem meant to Achebe in the context of his own life - the failed effort to free Biafra (the subject of several other poems), his own eventual permanent relocation to the United States.
November 15, 2012
Tidak terlalu suka dengan puisi-puisi Acehebe di buku ini.
April 17, 2014
Too gory for me.
May 19, 2015
In this collection Achebe I think is at his best poetizing on war.
July 12, 2015
Most of it is accessible even without knowing much about his culture. I was surprised how often I laughed out loud, although often in shock not humor.
September 6, 2015
Beautiful, angry, and sad.
Read
June 28, 2016"Their two errands collide"
Some very impactful lines in these poems.
Some very impactful lines in these poems.
December 16, 2023
The poetry collection is separated into multiple sections/chapters. I enjoyed the second section the most. I think a lot of the pieces reference Nigerian history and culture in a way that even as another African** I found hard to follow without looking things up. That being said, I think that's a strength, I just didn't have the energy to do that work on my first read through. In another read through, I just might.
Here were my favorite pieces from Section 2 (mostly in order of appearance):
- Love Song (for Anna)
- Love Cycle
- Beware, Soul Brother
- NON-commitment
- Generation Gap
- Misunderstanding
- Knowing Robs Us
- Lazarus
I wanted to provide an example of where deep investigation into the choices Achebe makes can take you. There was a small reference that came up on the second half of the collection: land across seven rivers. I found that phrase to be a little too specific to be repeating. And sure enough, a quick Google search suggests it has its roots in Igbo history/folklore. There are probably tons of goodies like that in this short collection (my favorite by far is the story of Ogbaku, in Lazarus, and the lawyer who "killed a man" while driving).
It took me months to get through (for no good reason!!), but I do recommend this as a quick read! I look forward to re-reading it again another time!
** Actually my formative years were probably in the diaspora more than Africa, so some references like cocoyam feel more foreign to me. I know it, but I don't feel it deep in my bones.
Here were my favorite pieces from Section 2 (mostly in order of appearance):
- Love Song (for Anna)
- Love Cycle
- Beware, Soul Brother
- NON-commitment
- Generation Gap
- Misunderstanding
- Knowing Robs Us
- Lazarus
I wanted to provide an example of where deep investigation into the choices Achebe makes can take you. There was a small reference that came up on the second half of the collection: land across seven rivers. I found that phrase to be a little too specific to be repeating. And sure enough, a quick Google search suggests it has its roots in Igbo history/folklore. There are probably tons of goodies like that in this short collection (my favorite by far is the story of Ogbaku, in Lazarus, and the lawyer who "killed a man" while driving).
It took me months to get through (for no good reason!!), but I do recommend this as a quick read! I look forward to re-reading it again another time!
** Actually my formative years were probably in the diaspora more than Africa, so some references like cocoyam feel more foreign to me. I know it, but I don't feel it deep in my bones.
May 19, 2018
I've read two of Achebe's novels - Things Fall Apart and Anthills of the Savannah - and had been wanting to read some of his poetry since. Thanks to Acton Library's surprisingly good poetry section I managed to get my grubby little protuberances on this.
It's a fine collection, with an amusing introduction and some notes to help you find your way around some of the references within the poems. There are poems about love, war and Gods (or God). The 'Poems About War' section focuses on events in and around Biafra. There's darkness here. And anger.
There are too many good poems in here for me to mention individually but I really loved 'Vultures' and 'Beware Soul Brothers' and 'A Wake For Okigbo'
Well worth a read.
It's a fine collection, with an amusing introduction and some notes to help you find your way around some of the references within the poems. There are poems about love, war and Gods (or God). The 'Poems About War' section focuses on events in and around Biafra. There's darkness here. And anger.
There are too many good poems in here for me to mention individually but I really loved 'Vultures' and 'Beware Soul Brothers' and 'A Wake For Okigbo'
Well worth a read.
August 21, 2023
‘Collected Poems’ by Chinua Achebe
Book review:
This collection of poetry is divided into four sections: ‘Prologue, Poems about War, Poems not about War and Epilogue’.
I’ve heard a lot of really good things about Chinua Achebe and his previous novels.
With that being said, I felt underwhelmed with this. I don’t know if it’s because this is the first piece of work I’ve read by Chinua Achebe or that I didn’t appreciate the contextual background behind the poems.
At first read, I didn’t feel moved by these collection of poems. I think I may have to read other novels and then come back to this one to really value it.
Book review:
This collection of poetry is divided into four sections: ‘Prologue, Poems about War, Poems not about War and Epilogue’.
I’ve heard a lot of really good things about Chinua Achebe and his previous novels.
With that being said, I felt underwhelmed with this. I don’t know if it’s because this is the first piece of work I’ve read by Chinua Achebe or that I didn’t appreciate the contextual background behind the poems.
At first read, I didn’t feel moved by these collection of poems. I think I may have to read other novels and then come back to this one to really value it.
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