A review by rosalind
Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi

challenging dark emotional informative reflective sad slow-paced
‘In my village we have a saying about separated sisters. They are like a woman and her reflection, doomed to stay on opposite sides of the pond.’

I’m in a peculiar position because I cannot say I enjoyed this book, but I feel that it was, unequivocally, a 5-star read. One reviewer on here said it made one of the strongest conceivable cases for reparations and black rage, and I agree. This book made me sick to my stomach multiple times. At times I didn’t know how or if I could finish it. But that’s kinda the point. Through the stories contained within this book, Yaa Gyasi has breathed personhood back into history, removing impediments to empathy and reporting the horror of what people with my skin colour are responsible for. The prose is perfectly chosen, parsimonious yet evocative, frank about suffering without embellishment. 

I’m generally not good at very sad storylines because I’m an ✨empath✨ who is ✨highly sensitive✨ with a very susceptible imagination. As a result, sometimes I find stories tough to shake off at the end of a reading session. But it feels right in this case; I want these stories to live in my memory, because they represent so many souls whose time was snatched, made torturous, wasted, ruined, eviscerated, at the hands of colonisers and their descendants. I do not want to forget.

In terms of the writing, I did find it a bit hard to keep up with who was who, especially in the first half of the novel, and was very grateful for the family tree to consult in the front of the book. One could almost call ‘Homegoing’ a collection of interconnected short stories or vignettes, which I think would have been helpful to know going in. Similarly, it only dawned on me towards the last few chapters re. the running themes of fire and water as polar opposites yet fellow elements, equal in their capacity for destruction and redemption. I’d recommend looking out for those through-lines; part of me wants to re-read it so I can better appreciate these connections. But I know I just can’t face it. As I’ve said about some of the most impactful work I’ve consumed in my life: I’m very grateful I read it, and I hope never to see it again.
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