The
main character of this book, is Agu, a child soldier. In a first person narrative he tells of his
recruitment as a soldier and the abuses he gives and the abuses he
suffers. It is well written, but the
plot falls into one of those one-darn-thing-after-another traps. There is no hope for anything better, and the
reader is as trapped as Agu.
One
thing that is interesting to me though, and something I might drop in a class
is how authenticity plays a role in the reader’s enjoyment of the book. I got to a point about half-way through where
I was curious how much of this is grounded in truth, and I then looked up the
author’s biography. I felt a little
betrayed knowing that he had not been a child soldier, and I started enjoying
the book less. I don’t know what that
says about me as a reader, or about this book as a text, but it did make me
think of how much more impact a “True” story has. So even though this is “true” in general, and
I’m sure Iweala did his homework, I feel my experience of the book is
compromised. You may not have that.
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