THINGS FALL APART SUMMARY

Chinua Achebe was born November 16, 1930, in Ogidi, in eastern Nigeria, the son of a mission-
school teacher, one of the early converts to Christianity in his community. (Unlike Okonkwo in
TFA, Achebe’s great-grandfather, who raised his father, had expressed tolerance towards the
Christian missionaries and had no objections to his grandson’s conversion.) He was baptized
Albert Chinualumogu, in tribute to Prince Albert, but adopted a purely African name when he went
to university. Grandfather was an important man in the traditional Igbo culture, so the story of
Things Fall Apart is to some extent based on family history.
As one might suspect from his father’s occupation, the family was devoutly Christian, and he was
encouraged as a child to feel superior to the “heathen” around him, although as an adult he has
questioned whether his neighbors should rather have felt superior to the Christians, as having
fallen away from traditional ways. Simon Gikandi points out that Achebe was in fact part of a
privileged group within colonial culture, and Achebe too has observed that Christians had access
to jobs and education that were denied to others. He was educated at prestigious colonialist
schools and graduated from the University of Ibadan in 1953. He then worked in Nigerian radio
(he was director of external broadcasting from 1960-67) until the Biafran War, during which he
served the Biafran government, primarily as an ambassador to Europe and the United States
seeking financial support for the fledgling state.
He published his first novel, Things Fall Apart, in 1958, while Nigeria was still under colonial rule,
and followed with three more novels in the next eight years: No Longer at Ease in 1960, Arrow of
God in 1964, and A Man of the People in 1966. The last named work, which ends with a military
coup in an unnamed African country, was published just as a coup took place in Nigeria,
generating particular interest in the novel as a kind of prophetic statement. Following the war, he
went through a period of relative silence (producing essays and stories, but no new novels) until
Anthills of the Savannahs appeared in 1987.
Achebe gives the following account of the inspiration for his own writing:
When I began going to school and learned to read, I encountered stories of other people and
other lands. In one of my essays, I remember the kind of things that fascinated me. Weird things,
even, about a wizard who lived in Africa and went to China to find a lamp. . . fascinating to me
because they were about things remote, and almost ethereal. Then I grew older and began to
read about adventures in which I didn't know that I was supposed to be on the side of those
savages who were encountered by the good white man. I instinctively took sides with the white
people. They were fine! They were excellent. They were intelligent. The others were not . . . they
were stupid and ugly. That was the way I was introduced to the danger of not having your own
stories. There is that great proverb, that until the lions have their own historians, the history of the
hunt will always glorify the hunter.
In particular, Achebe was reacting against his reading of Joyce Cary’s Mister Johnson, cited in its
time as "the best novel published about Africa," though it focuses on the white colonialist rather
than on the indigenous characters, whom Achebe felt were described with condescension at best.
He has also written about his distaste for Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, often seen by
white critics as sympathetic to Africans but to Achebe expressing a clear sense of white
superiority.
Aside from his own writing, Achebe was significant in promoting the work of other African writers,
serving as the founding editor of the African Writers Series at Heinemann (two of the first four
books in the series were Achebe's first two novels, and as recently as the 1980s, his works
accounted for about a third of all revenue for the Series, which now totals over 300 titles). He
helped to found the influential journal Okike in 1971.
Since a 1990 automobile accident, he has been confined to a wheelchair.
Achebe chooses to write in English, although he did not begin to learn the language until he was
eight years old. In response to other African writers, who insist on an indigenous language, he
replies that English is needed to communicate across the continent, which has more than 200
languages.
General Issues in Things Fall Apart
Henrickson points out that TFA uses language and structures (English, the novel form) that make
its world seem familiar to Western readers; but questions whether it really is familiar to us.
Western readers tend to plot novel as tragedy, but we lack direct access to the Igbo oral
mythology and culture that underlies the experience and that could help us to understand the
tragedy, or perhaps recognize that this is generically something else entirely. He would
recommend against a “universalizing” reading that looks primarily for connections with
established western norms.
On the other hand, we should also avoid the temptation to see the African novel as “exotic.” As
Achebe has said, “Africans are people in the same way that Americans, Europeans, Asians and
others are people. Africans are not some strange beings with unpronounceable names and
impenetrable minds.”
Several critics have warned against using the novel as an anthropological document. For
instance, Simon Gikandi argues that Achebe's is only another representation of Igbo culture (one
that David Carroll and others have praised for its vividness and accuracy) rather than some
unvarnished “truth” about that culture. (We should remember here that Achebe is reconstructing a
historical moment, one that had resulted in profound societal changes by the time of his own
birth; he is not a direct witness of unmodified Igbo society.)
The title for Achebe's novel comes from the following poem by the Irish poet William Butler Yeats
(1865-1939). Although Yeats's poem is heavily symbolic and will be enhanced by critical analysis,
most readers should be able to get some sense of what it is about with very little literary training.
What significance might there be in this context for Achebe's choice of a title?
The Second Coming (1921)
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Finally, note how much of the novel's action takes place before the white people ever arrive -
things are beginning "to fall apart" even before the white man arrives. Does that absolve white
culture of the crime of destroying indigenous culture? Be careful here - the Igbo culture is shown
to be quite flexible and presumably would have resolved its own contradictions in its own way
without the intervention of the Europeans.
Chapter-by-Chapter Discussion
Chapter 1: Begins with the fame of Okonkwo’s youth, resting “on solid personal achievements”
(7). But there is also the suggestion of his violent character, his impatience, his excessive
concern with reputation, and of its origins in his father, Unoka, of a very different temperatment.
Okonkwo’s name suggests his prominence - “Oko” refers to a boy child, preferred in Igbo culture,
“Nkwo” is the name of the first day of the four-day week, the most auspicious. This is a traditional
naming pattern (Ogbaa 64). The conversation between Okoye and Unoka is conducted in
proverbs, another traditional pattern of Igbo conversation. Note that Achebe explains this aspect
of Igbo culture - what does this suggest about the presumptive audience of the novel?
Keith Booker has warned against the temptation to read TFA “anthropologically,” since too much
focus on the depiction of Igbo society can prevent the work from being seen as critically
significant. He notes that the integration of proverbs into the narrative is similar to the pattern of
African epic – thus it is a stylistic or aesthetic decision, not just an insight into the culture.
Wrestling is an apt identity for Okonkwo right from the beginning; he is destroyed finally when he
takes on too strong of an opponent – his own chi (Lindfors 77-78). His experience reflects this Ibo
folktale:
Once there was a great wrestler whose back had never known the ground. He wrestled from
village to village until he had thrown every man in the world. Then he decided that he must go
and wrestle in the land of spirits, and become champion there as well. He went, and beat every
spirit that came forward. Some had seven heads, some ten; but he beat them all. His companion
who sang his praise on the flute begged him to come away, but he would not. He pleaded with
him but his ear was nailed up. Rather than go home he gave a challenge to the spirits to bring out
their best and strongest wrestler. So they sent him his personal god, a little, wiry spirit who seized
him with one hand and smashed him on the stony earth. (Qtd. from Achebe’s Arrow of God)
Chapter 2: Okonkwo hears the ogene calling all men to a council of war; there is a dispute
between Umuofia (= "children of the forest") and Mbaino, and the latter backs down by paying
tribute - two hostages to atone for the death of the Umuofian woman. Thus Ikemefuna comes to
live with Okonkwo; we already have it foreshadowed that his story is a sad one. Here we also see
Okonkwo’s method of handling his household, “with a heavy hand” causing everyone to live in
fear of his temper - what we would call an abusive husband. How can we know that Okonkwo
isn’t just typical of a “primitive” culture? We can also get a glimpse of the status of women - the
same term refers both to a woman and to a man with no status.
Chapter 3: Finally goes back to give some of Okonkwo’s background. He is a self-made man, of
which he should be proud. The story of Unoka tells us about the concept of chi, each man’s
personal god - what kind of chi does Okonkwo have? At first sight, it would seem bad - he had to
borrow yams to plant a crop, but it was a terrible year, and many broke under the pressure (man
who commits suicide (27).
Achebe has explained the Igbo concept of “chi” in an essay: each individual has a chi, a “spirit
being” parallel to his physical being. Thus, the concept of “chi” also entails a necessary duality in
the world – “wherever something stands, something else will stand beside it.” The importance of
“chi” is also demonstrated by the frequency with which it appears as an element in Nigerian
names, and in its incorporation into the name of the supreme god, Chukwu (= “Chi Ukwo,” or
“Great Chi”).
Chapter 4: More on the self-made man, and a suggestion that Okonkwo is not held in quite so
high esteem as his fame would indicate - he behaves rudely at the kindred meeting, so everyone
sides with Osugo. Also, Okonkwo breaks the peace by beating his wife, which endangers the
entire clan because it violates the tradition and may anger the ancestors. A communal tradition,
which Okonkwo does respect - he performs the necessary atonement. But he does not apologize
to his neighbors, who believe he disrespects their gods (cf. Coriolanus). There is also a
discussion of different traditions in different villages, suggesting that the Igbo ways are not
common to all in the culture - i.e., the culture is flexible. This is an important point for their later
acceptance of the colonizers.
Chapter 5: Feast of the New Yam - shows Okonkwo’s impatience, unable to join in festivities
because he wants to be more active. This disgruntlement causes yet another emotional firestorm,
and he beats his wife again - and shoots her! But the feast is also associated with the wrestling
contest, and it was through wrestling that Okonkwo gained his fame, and gained the same wife
that he almost shot. Okonkwo is totally absorbed in his concept of what it is to be a man - cannot
see past it. Ezinma, his daughter, is different from most children because she addresses her
mother by her name, and Okonkwo wishes she were a boy because of her strong attributes.
Chapter 6: The wrestling match echoes the initial source of Okonkwo’s prominence, and so
suggests the continuity of culture. But it also presents a new kind of wrestling, suggesting change
is already under way.
Chapter 7: Here at last the story seems to be about to get under way. The fact of Ikemefuna’s
adoption into Okonkwo’s family was established in the first chapter, and alluded to on several
occasions afterward; but only here does the narrative turn into a more “normal” chronological
sequence: “For three years Ikemefuna lived in Okonkwo’s household and the elders of Umuofia
seemed to have forgotten about him. . .” Ikemefune has a good effect, acting like an older
brother, on Nwoye (= "child" of indeterminate sex, born on Oye - the name may suggest he is not
“masculine” enough in Okonkwo’s eyes to wear the name “Okoye” -Ogbaa, 65). Okonkwo treats
both boys alike, telling them “masculine stories of violence and bloodshed”; however, Nwoye still
prefers his mother’s stories. The chapter includes an example of the sort of story that Nwoye
loves, the story of the quarrel between Earth and Sky. Why does this myth appear here? Note
parallels to Okonkwo’s real-life experience of drought and rain, of the need to soften the heart in
the face of suffering, etc. There may be foreshadowing too of Nwoye’s later embracing of
redemptive Christianity.
The meeting between Okonkwo and Ogbuefi Ezeudu includes Ezeudu’s refusal of hospitality,
suggesting something very serious is afoot - cf. earlier scenes of sharing kola, etc. After three
years, the village has decided to kill Ikemefuna, in response to an oracle, and they are telling
Okonkwo to stay out of it. This is a central act in the “tragedy” of Okonkwo. What does it tell us
about the society? Is there something “wrong” with a society that will kill an innocent boy for no
apparent reason?
Booker suggests that the gut reaction to see Ikemefuna’s death as a cruel and unjust act
prevents is from recognizing that Igbo morality is based on the good of the community, not of the
individual – the death of this person can prevent war between the villages and thus avert many
other deaths. The society is built on different principles than our own – does that make it wrong,
or just different?
In the context of Igbo society, Okonkwo is excessively individualistic – too concerned about
himself and not enough about the village – so the seeds of his downfall are planted long before
the arrival of the white men. (Derek Wright has also argued that Okonkwo is essentially “out of
step” with the actual values of the village – as for instance when he expresses impatience at the
waiting during the New Yam Feast or is unable to control his violent side during the Week of
Peace.)
Note the decision to kill Ikemefune occurs in the context of a fortuitous rain of locusts, not in a
stressful drought or other calamity. What about Okonkwo’s decision to take part in the death?
What causes him to do so? Note the emphasis on Ikemefune’s relationship to Okonkwo - earlier
in the chapter, the scenes of him sitting in Okonkwo’s obi just like a son, access to Ikemefune’s
thoughts of Okonkwo as his real father, his reaction to the first machete blow and Okonkwo’s act
of slaying the boy. Note, too, Nwoye’s reaction which relates his feeling the previous harvest
season about the discarding of twins in the Evil Forest: “Nowye had felt for the first time a
snapping inside him like the one he now felt. . . Then something had given way inside him. It
descended on him again, this feeling, when his father walked in. . .” This suggests Nwoye feels
differently about his society’s values than does his father.
Chapter 8: Okonkwo’s depression over the killing. What does this tell us about his character?
How does it modify our perception of him as cruel? His conversation with Obierika establishes the
tragic fatalism, uses proverbs, etc. They also share omens that suggest change is in the air. (“The
things that happen these days are very strange.”) Again, changing times are invoked by
Obierika’s complaint about the young men’s sloppy tapping of the palm trees; Okonkwo is bound
by tradition, relying only on the law, whereas Obierika notes that other clans have other laws -
there is a relativism recognizable within Igbo society. Igbo relativism suggest the society has
more capacity for change than Okonkwo himself - he is mired in his perception of tradition, while
others in society are willing to question things. Obierika is like Nwoye in this regard. Then they
discuss the customs of Abame and Aninta. It is in this context that the white men are first
introduced into the conversation.
Chapter 9: The threat to Ezinma - her illness and the story of the ogbanje. G.D. Kilam argues that
the pilgrimage through the nine villages under the force of the priestess of Ani, the Earth
Goddess, reveals the underlying feminine principle that is at least as important to the Igbo society
as the surface masculinity: “Powerful as he is, the embodiment of the male principle, Okonkwo is
subservient to the female principle and he follows the course of Chielo with his beloved daughter
Ezinma with a terror equal to that of his wife, utterly powerless to alter the course of events.”
Furthermore, the collapse of Okonkwo’s position in the village results from a series of offenses he
commits against the (female) earth.
Chapter 10: The egwugwu ritual, and Okonkwo’s presence as one of the ancestral spirits. This is
a scene of judgment - the Igbo court system. Evil Forest’s judgment shows the flexibility possible
within the system. Uzowulu is at fault in his wife’s running away, because he beat her excessively
(parallel to Okonkwo); by offending against moral standards, Uzowulu has forfeited his legal claim
to the bride price’s return. On the other hand, this matter is considered a “trifle” by one of the
elders - however, Uzowulu is the sort of man who will insist on the egwugwu even for such a
trivial matter.
Chapter 11: The story of tortoise and the feast of the birds is a commentary on the problem of
trying to be what you are not, and also on the relativity of custom. Clever Tortoise manufactures a
custom to fit his needs. He gets to eat everything because he can manipulate tradition
accordingly. What does this suggest about the role of custom? What about the Igbo willingness to
bend tradition? This is followed by Okonkwo’s resistance of the demands of the gods, when he
tries to oppose Ezinma’s “borrowing” by Agbala. Again, the incident shows Okonkwo’s inner self
in opposition to his public position of obedience to tradition - he is ready to do battle with the
gods, and follows his wife and daughter to protect both.
Chapter 12: Oberika’s daughter’s wedding.
Chapter 13: The death of Ezeudu and the funeral rite. “A man’s life from birth to death was a
series of transition rites which brought him nearer and nearer to his ancestors.” It is here, in the
context of such a transition, and at the mathematical center of the book, that something happens
“without parallel in the tradition of Umuofia”: the explosion of Okonkwo’s home-made gun, which
kills Ezeudu’s 16-year-old son. This is a crime against the earth goddess, even though it was an
accident, and Okonkwo must therefore flee; he is banished for seven years, part of a traditional
cleansing. Obierika “was a man who thought about things” and questions the tradition that so
punishes a man for what happens accidentally. This leads him also to question the sacrifice of
twin children, which he himself had had to do. Part I thus ends with individual banishment and a
direct questioning of the demands of tradition.
Chapter 14: Okonkwo goes to live with his mother’s clan in another village. He is suffering from a
female ochu. What is the significance of the hyper-masculine Okonkwo being punished for the
“female” version of the crime? Chapter also has Okonkwo questioning traditional saying, and
almost in despair: “A man could not rise beyond the destiny of his chi. The saying of the elders
was not true - that if a man said yea his chi also affirmed. Here was a man whose chi said nay
despite his own affirmation.” Okonkwo has the opportunity for re-instruction - he must learn the
importance of the mother, of the feminine.
Carroll suggests that Uchendu’s “catechizing” of Okonwo about the significance of the feminine
reflects the hero’s essential flaw – his rigid hypermasculinity. Okonkwo is so concerned not to be
considered weak like his father that he allows for no flexibility in interpretation of the rules
(witness his participation in Ikemefuna’s death, when the law only required his acquiescence)
such as can be seen with other Igbo.
Chapter 15: Obierika visits with more news of the white men - the destruction of Abame. Again, a
herald that a new day is arriving, coupled with an illustration of the white colonizers’ response to
offenses: one white man is killed by the village, so the entire village is massacred by the whites.
According to Robert M. Wren, the incident at Abame in the novel closely corresponds with the
historical Ahiara massacre of 1905: a white man, J.F. Stewart, bicycling between villages, was
killed by unfriendly villagers, then was taken to neighboring communities by killers who did not
even think he was human. A month later, black soldiers under white officers killed many people in
the villages where he was held, and locally made guns were confiscated. Again, there is a
suggestion of the relativity of customs here: Uchendu says “what is good among one people is an
abomination with others.”
Chapter 16: Once again, Okonkwo learns about the whites from Obierika. The missionaries have
come to Umuofia; they are becoming increasingly the frame of reference for what goes on in the
novel - everything is discussion of this new thing. The church first attracts those who are efulefu,
“worthless men” without titles - not the core of Umuofia society. And Nwoye, Okonkwo’s son, has
joined them, as we find when the missionaries come to Mbanta as well. Note different dialects in
the speech of the Igbo interpreter (“my buttocks” for “myself”).
Look closely at the reason for Nwoye’s conversion: “It was not the mad logic of the Trinity that
captivated him. He did not understand it. It was the poetry of the new religion, something felt in
the marrow. The hymn about brothers who sat in darkness and in fear seemed to answer a vague
and persistent question that haunted his young soul - the question of the twins crying in the bush
and the question of Ikemefuna who was killed.” To what degree does Achebe present the
collapse of Igbo society as the result of colonial manipulation, as opposed to its own internal
conflicts and stresses?