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We ate quickly because of the heat, because even the soup tasted like sweat. Afterward, we trooped to the neighbors' flat on the topmost floor and stood on their verandah, to see if we could catch a breeze. Amaka and I stood by the railings, looking
down. Obiora and Chima squatted to watch the children playing on the floor, clustered around the plastic Ludo board and rolling dice. Somebody poured a bucket of water on the verandah and the boys lay down, with their backs on the wet floor.

I looked out at Marguerite Cartwright Avenue below, at a red Volkswagen driving past. It revved loudly as it went over the speed bump, and even from the verandah, I could see where the color had faded to a rusty orange. I felt nostalgic as I watched the Volkswagen disappear down the street, and I was not sure why. Maybe it was because it revved like Aunty Ifeoma's car sometimes did, and it reminded me that very soon, I would not see her or her car anymore. She had gone to the police station to get a statement, which she would take to her visa interview at the American embassy to prove that she had never been convicted of a crime. Jaja had gone with her.

'Purple Hibiscus' is a much sadder and alarming story, set during one of the many military coups that disrupted Nigeria's 20th century post-Colonial efforts to steer its own course. LeCat brings a measured, respectful narrative voice to stories that involve and belong to entirely African characters. Book Description: Unlock the more straightforward side of Purple Hibiscus with this concise and insightful summary and analysis! This engaging summary presents an analysis of Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, which follows 15-year-old Kambili as she learns to shake off the authority of her devout but violent and controlling father Eugene and voice her own opinions.

“I suppose we won't need to protect our doors with metal in America,” Amaka said, as if she knew what I was thinking about. She was fanning herself briskly with a folded newspaper.

• Purple Hibiscus is set in postcolonial Nigeria, a country beset by political instability and economic difficulties. The central character is Kambili Achike, aged fifteen for much of the period covered by the book, a member of a wealthy family dominated by her devoutly Catholic father, Eugene.
• Oct 30, 2003 Free download or read online Purple Hibiscus pdf (ePUB) book. The first edition of the novel was published in October 30th 2003, and was written by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The book was published in multiple languages including English, consists of 307 pages and is available in Paperback format.
• Apr 17, 2012 Purple Hibiscus is the first novel by Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. It was first published by Algonquin Books in 2003. The novel is on the English Leaving Certificate course in Ireland, the Advanced Placement course in select US schools, as well as the International Baccalaureate course in some schools in Europe.

“What?”

“Mom's students broke into her office once and stole exam questions. She told the works department that she wanted metal bars on her office doors and windows, and they said there was no money. You know what she did?”

Amaka turned to look at me; a small smile at the edges of her lips. I shook my head.

“She went to a construction site, and they gave her metal rods for free. Then she asked Obiora and me to help her install them. We drilled holes and fit the rods in with cement, across her windows and doors.”

“Oh,” I said. I wanted to reach out and touch Amaka.

“And then she put up a sign at her door that said
EXAM QUESTIONS ARE IN THE BANK
.” Amaka smiled and then started to fold and refold the newspaper. “I won't be happy in America. It won't be the same.”

“You will drink fresh milk from a bottle. No more stunted tins of condensed milk, no more homemade soybean milk,” I said.

Amaka laughed, a hearty laugh that showed her gap. “You're funny.”

I had never heard that before. I saved it for later, to ruminate over and over that I had made her laugh, that I could make her laugh.

The rains came then, pouring down in strong sheets that made it impossible to see the garages across the yard. The sky and rain and ground merged into one silver-colored film that seemed to go on and on. We dashed back to the flat and placed buckets on the verandah to catch the rainwater and watched them fill rapidly. All the children ran out to the yard in their shorts, twirling and dancing, because this was clean rain, the kind that did not come with dust, that did not leave brown stains on clothes. It stopped as quickly as it had started, and the sun came out again, mildly, as if yawning after a nap. The buckets were full; we fished out floating leaves and twigs and took the buckets in.

I saw Father Amadi's car turning into the compound when we went back out to the verandah. Obiora saw it, too, and asked, laughing, “Is it me or does Father visit more often whenever Kambili is here?”

He and Amaka were still laughing when Father Amadi came up the short flight of stairs. “I know Amaka just said something
about me,” he said, sweeping Chima into his arms. He stood backing the setting sun. The sun was red, as if it were blushing, and it made his skin look radiant.

I watched how Chima clung to him, how Amaka's and Obiora's eyes shone as they looked up at him. Amaka was asking him about his missionary work in Germany, but I did not hear much of what she said. I was not listening. I felt so many things churning inside me, emotions that made my stomach growl and swirl.

“Do you see Kambili bothering me like this?” Father Amadi asked Amaka. He was looking at me, and I knew he had said that to include me, to get my attention.

“The white missionaries brought us their god,” Amaka was saying. “Which was the same color as them, worshiped in their language and packaged in the boxes they made. Now that we take their god back to them, shouldn't we at least repackage it?”

Father Amadi smirked and said, “We go mostly to Europe and America, where they are losing priests. So there is really no indigenous culture to pacify, unfortunately.”

“Father, be serious!” Amaka was laughing.

“Only if you will try to be more like Kambili and not bother me so much.”

The phone started to ring, and Amaka made a face at him before walking into the flat.

Father Amadi sat down next to me. “You look worried,” he said. Before I could think of what to say, he reached out and slapped my lower leg. He opened his palm to show me the bloody, squashed mosquito. He had cupped his palm so that it would not hurt too much and yet would kill the mosquito. “It looked so happy feeding on you,” he said, watching me.

“Thank you,” I said.

He reached out and wiped the spot on my leg with a finger. His finger felt warm and alive. I did not realize that my cousins had left; now the verandah was so silent I could hear the sound of the raindrops sliding off the leaves.

“So tell me what you're thinking about,” he said.

“It doesn't matter.”

“What you think will always matter to me, Kambili.”

I stood up and walked to the garden. I plucked off yellow allamanda flowers, still wet, and slid them over my fingers, as I had seen Chima do. It was like wearing a scented glove. “I was thinking about my father. I don't know what will happen when we go back.”

“Has he called?”

“Yes. Jaja refused to go to the phone, and I did not go, either.”

“Did you want to?” He asked gently. It was not what I expected him to ask.

“Yes,” I whispered, so Jaja wouldn't hear, although he was not even in the area. I did want to talk to Papa, to hear his voice, to tell him what I had eaten and what I had prayed about so that he would approve, so that he would smile so much his eyes would crinkle at the edges. And yet, I did not want to talk to him; I wanted to leave with Father Amadi, or with Aunty Ifeoma, and never come back. “School starts in two weeks, and Aunty Ifeoma might be gone then,” I said. “I don't know what we will do. Jaja does not talk about tomorrow or next week.”

Father Amadi walked over to me, standing so close that I if I puffed out my belly, it would touch his body. He took my
hand in his, carefully slid one flower off my finger and slid it onto his. “Your aunt thinks you and Jaja should go to boarding school. I am going to Enugu next week to talk to Father Benedict; I know your father listens to him. I will ask him to convince your father about boarding school so you and Jaja can start next term. It will be fine,
inugo
?”

I nodded and looked away. I believed him, that it would be fine, because he said so. I thought then of catechism classes, about chanting the answer to a question, an answer that was “because he has said it and his word is true.” I could not remember the question.

“Look at me, Kambili.”

I was afraid to look into the warm brownness of his eyes, I was afraid I would swoon, that I would throw my hands around him and lace my fingers together behind his neck and refuse to let go. I turned.

“Is this the flower you can suck? The one with the sweet juices?” he asked. He had slid the allamanda off his finger and was examining its yellow petals.

I smiled. “No. It's ixora you suck.”

He threw the flower away and made a wry face. “Oh.”

I laughed. I laughed because the allamanda flowers were so yellow. I laughed imagining how bitter their white juices would taste if Father Amadi had really sucked them. I laughed because Father Amadi's eyes were so brown I could see my reflection in them.

THAT NIGHT WHEN I BATHED
, with a bucket half full of rainwater, I did not scrub my left hand, the hand that Father Amadi had held gently to slide the flower off my finger.
I did not heat the water, either, because I was afraid that the heating coil would make the rainwater lose the scent of the sky. I sang as I bathed. There were more earthworms in the bathtub, and I left them alone, watching the water carry them arid send them down the drain.

The breeze following the rain was so cool that I wore a sweater and Aunty Ifeoma wore a longsleeved shirt, although she usually walked around the house in only a wrapper. We were all sitting on the verandah, talking, when Father Amadi's car nosed its way to the front of the flat.

“You said you would be very busy today, Father,” Obiora said.

“I say these things to justify being fed by the church,” Father Amadi said. He looked tired. He handed Amaka a piece of paper and told her he had written some suitably boring names on it, that she had only to choose one and he would leave. After the bishop used it in confirming her, she need never even mention the name again. Father Amadi rolled his eyes, speaking with a painstaking slowness, and although Amaka laughed, she did not take the paper.

“I told you I am not taking an English name, Father,” she said.

“And have I asked you why?”

Purple Hibiscus Free Pdf

“Why do I have to?”

“Because it is the way it's done. Let's forget if it's right or wrong for now,” Father Amadi said, and I noticed the shadows under his eyes.

“When the missionaries first came, they didn't think Igbo names were good enough. They insisted that people take English names to be baptized. Shouldn't we be moving ahead?”

“It's different now, Amaka, don't make this what it's not,” Father Amadi said, calmly. “Nobody has to use the name. Look at me. I've always used my Igbo name, but I was baptized Michael and confirmed Victor.”

Aunty Ifeoma looked up from the forms she was going through. “Amaka,
ngwa
, pick a name and let Father Amadi go and do his work.”

“But what's the point, then?” Amaka said to Father Amadi, as if she had not heard her mother. “What the church is saying is that only an English name will make your confirmation valid. ‘Chiamaka' says God is beautiful. ‘Chima' says God knows best, ‘Chiebuka' says God is the greatest. Don't they all glorify God as much as ‘Paul' and ‘Peter' and ‘Simon'?”

Aunty Ifeoma was getting annoyed; I knew by her raised voice, by her snappy tone. “
O gini
! You don't have to prove a senseless point here! Just do it and get confirmed, nobody says you have to use the name!”

But Amaka refused. “
Ekwerom
,” she said to Aunty Ifeoma—I do not agree. Then she walked into her room and turned her music on very loud until Aunty Ifeoma knocked on the door and shouted that Amaka was asking for a slap if she did not turn it down right away. Amaka turned the music
down. Father Amadi left, with a bemused sort of smile on his face.

That evening, tempers cooled and we had dinner together, but there was not much laughter. And the next day, Easter Sunday, Amaka did not join the rest of the young people who wore all white and carried lit candles, with folded newspapers to trap the melting wax. They all had pieces of paper pinned to their clothes, with names written on them. Paul. Mary. James. Veronica. Some of the girls looked like brides, and I remembered my own confirmation, how Papa had said I was a bride, Christ's bride, and I had been surprised because I thought the Church was Christ's bride.

AUNTY IFEOMA WANTED
to go on pilgrimage to Aokpe. She was not sure why she suddenly wanted to go, she told us, probably the thought that she might be gone for a long time. Amaka and I said we would go with her. But Jaja said he would not go, then was stonily silent as if he dared anyone to ask him why. Obiora said he would stay back, too, with Chima. Aunty Ifeoma did not seem to mind. She smiled and said that since we didn't have a male, she would ask Father Amadi if he wanted to accompany us.

“I will turn into a bat if Father Amadi says yes,” Amaka said.

But he did say yes. When Aunty Ifeoma hung up the phone after talking to him and said he would be coming with us, Amaka said, “It's because of Kambili. He would never have come if not for Kambili.”

Aunty Ifeoma drove us to the dusty village about two hours away. I sat in the back with Father Amadi, separated from him by the space in the middle. He and Amaka sang as we drove;
the undulating road made the car sway from side to side, and I imagined that it was dancing. Sometimes I joined in the singing, and other times I remained quiet and listened, wondering what it would feel like if I moved closer, if I covered the space between us and rested my head on his shoulder.

When we finally turned into the dirt road with the handpainted sign that read
WELCOME TO AOKPE APPARITION GROUND
, all I saw at first was chaos. Hundreds of cars, many bearing scrawled signs that read CATHOLICS ON PILGRIMAGE, jostled to fit into a tiny village that Aunty Ifeoma said had not known as many as ten cars until a local girl started to see the vision of the Beautiful Woman. People were packed so close that the smell of other people became as familiar as their own. Women crashed to their knees. Men shouted prayers. Rosaries rustled. People pointed and shouted, “See, there, on the tree, that's Our Lady!” Others pointed at the glowing sun. “There she is!”

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Purple Hibiscus

Fifteen-year-old Kambili's world is circumscribed by the high walls and frangipani trees of her family compound. Her wealthy Catholic father, under whose shadow Kambili lives, while generous and politically active in the community, is repressive and fanatically religious at home. When Nigeria begins to fall apart under a military coup, Kambili's father sends her and her brother away to stay with their aunt, a University professor, whose house is noisy and full of laughter. There, Kambili and her brother discover a life and love beyond the confines of their father's authority. The visit will lift the silence from their world and, in time, give rise to devotion and defiance that reveal themselves in profound and unexpected ways. This is a book about the promise of freedom; about the blurred lines between childhood and adulthood, between love and hatred, between the old gods and the new.

Purple Hibiscus

For study or revision, these guides are the perfect accompaniment to the set text, providing invaluable background and exam advice. Philip Allan Literature Guides (for GCSE) offer succinct and accessible coverage of all key aspects of the set text and are designed to challenge and develop your knowledge, encouraging you to reach your full potential. Each full colour guide: - Gives you the confidence that you know your set text inside out, with insightful coverage for you to develop your understanding of context, characters, quotations, themes and style- Ensures you are fully prepared for your exams: each guide shows you how your set text will be measured against assessment objectives of the main specification- Develops the skills you need to do well in your exams, with tasks and practice questions in the guide, and lots more completely free online, including podcasts, glossaries, sample essays and revision advice at www.philipallan.co.uk/literatureguidesonline CONTENTS: Introduction Context Plot and structure Characterisation Themes Style Tackling the assessments Assessment objectives and skills Sample essays Answers

Purple Hibiscus

Purple Hibiscus is a novel about the blurred lines between the old gods and the new, childhood and adulthood, love and hatred - the gray spaces in which truths are revealed and true living is begun.

Half of a Yellow Sun

With her award-winning debut novel, Purple Hibiscus, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie was heralded by the Washington Post Book World as the “21st century daughter” of Chinua Achebe. Now, in her masterly, haunting new novel, she recreates a seminal moment in modern African history: Biafra’s impassioned struggle to establish an independent republic in Nigeria during the 1960s. With the effortless grace of a natural storyteller, Adichie weaves together the lives of five characters caught up in the extraordinary tumult of the decade. Fifteen-year-old Ugwu is houseboy to Odenigbo, a university professor who sends him to school, and in whose living room Ugwu hears voices full of revolutionary zeal. Odenigbo’s beautiful mistress, Olanna, a sociology teacher, is running away from her parents’ world of wealth and excess; Kainene, her urbane twin, is taking over their father’s business; and Kainene’s English lover, Richard, forms a bridge between their two worlds. As we follow these intertwined lives through a military coup, the Biafran secession and the subsequent war, Adichie brilliantly evokes the promise, and intimately, the devastating disappointments that marked this time and place. Epic, ambitious and triumphantly realized, Half of a Yellow Sun is a more powerful, dramatic and intensely emotional picture of modern Africa than any we have had before.

The Thing Around Your Neck

These twelve dazzling stories from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie — the Orange Broadband Prize–winning author of Half of a Yellow Sun — are her most intimate works to date. In these stories Adichie turns her penetrating eye to the ties that bind men and women, parents and children, Nigeria and the United States. In “A Private Experience,” a medical student hides from a violent riot with a poor Muslim woman, and the young mother at the centre of “Imitation” finds her comfortable life in Philadelphia threatened when she learns that her husband has moved his mistress into their Lagos home. Searing and profound, suffused with beauty, sorrow and longing, this collection is a resounding confirmation of Adichie’s prodigious literary powers.

A Companion to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Frontcover -- Contents -- Notes on Contributors -- Acknowledgements -- Introduction -- 1. Narrating the Past: Orality, History & the Production of Knowledge in the Works of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie -- 2. Deconstructing Binary Oppositions of Gender in Purple Hibiscus: A Review of Religious/Traditional Superiority & Silence -- 3. Adichie & the West African Voice: Women & Power in Purple Hibiscus -- 4. Reconstructing Motherhood: A Mutative Reality in Purple Hibiscus -- 5. Ritualized Abuse in Purple Hibiscus -- 6. Dining Room & Kitchen: Food-Related Spaces & their Interfaces with the Female Body in Purple Hibiscus -- 7. The Paradox of Vulnerability: The Child Voice in Purple Hibiscus -- 8. 'Fragile Negotiations': Olanna's Melancholia in Half of a Yellow Sun -- 9. The Biafran War & the Evolution of Domestic Space in Half of a Yellow Sun -- 10. Corruption in Post-Independence Politics: Half of a Yellow Sun as a Reflection of A Man of the People -- 11. Contrasting Gender Roles in Male-Crafted Fiction with Half of a Yellow Sun -- 12. 'A Kind of Paradise': Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Claim to Agency, Responsibility & Writing -- 13. Dislocation, Cultural Memory & Transcultural Identity in Select Stories from The Thing Around Your Neck -- 14. 'Reverse Appropriations' & Transplantation in Americanah -- 15. Revisiting Double Consciousness & Relocating the Self in Americanah -- 16. Adichie's Americanah: A Migrant Bildungsroman -- 17. 'Hairitage' Matters: Transitioning & the Third Wave Hair Movement in 'Hair', 'Imitation' & Americanah -- Appendix: The Works of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie -- Index

Emotions Explained with Buff Dudes

'You know how, since the dawn of humanity, great philosophers and poets have dedicated their entire lives to exploring concepts like love, life itself, logic, and sorrow? Well, those great philosophers and poets are dead now, so I win.' — Shen Emotions Explained With Buff Dudes is your fully illustrated guide to the hyper-conflicted, tragicomic feelings of our age. Featuring the resilient, shaggy-haired Shen, this debut collection of Owlturd Comix is a tale of triumph and survival — of getting your ass kicked by sleep deprivation and student loans, but never losing hope. Most of all, it's an amusing, instructive journey through a vast array of emotions, including those best explained with dudes who are buff.

A New Generation of African Writers

Discusses the literature of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Leila Aboulela, Biyi Bandele, Moses Isegawa, and Jamal Mahjoub.

You in America

A Bit of Difference

A new novel from the winner of the Wole Soyinka Prize for African Literature At thirty-nine, Deola Bello, a Nigerian expatriate in London, is dissatisfied with being single and working overseas. Deola works as a financial reviewer for an international charity, and when her job takes her back to Nigeria in time for her father’s five-year memorial service, she finds herself turning her scrutiny inward. In Nigeria, Deola encounters changes in her family and in the urban landscape of her home, and new acquaintances who offer unexpected possibilities. Deola’s journey is as much about evading others’ expectations to get to the heart of her frustration as it is about exposing the differences between foreign images of Africa and the realities of contemporary Nigerian life. Deola’s urgent, incisive voice captivates and guides us through the intricate layers and vivid scenes of a life lived across continents. With Sefi Atta’s characteristic boldness and vision, A Bit of Difference limns the complexities of our contemporary world. This is a novel not to be missed.

Re creating Ourselves

This book falls into two parts: the first part, theory, comprising theoretical essays on literature, women and society, leads into the second part, practice, which presents Ogundipe-Leslie's work as a social activist. Both parts are linked by her poetry.

Transnational Women s Fiction

This study argues that the private homes in transnational women's fiction reflect public legacies of colonialism. Published in Australia, Canada, India, Nigeria, Puerto Rico and the United States between 1995 and 2005, the novels use fictional houses to criticize and unsettle home and homeland, depicting their linked oppressions and exclusions.

Genius Weapons

A technology expert describes the ever-increasing role of artificial intelligence in weapons development, the ethical dilemmas these weapons pose, and the potential threat to humanity. Artificial intelligence is playing an ever-increasing role in military weapon systems. Going beyond the bomb-carrying drones used in the Afghan war, the Pentagon is now in a race with China and Russia to develop 'lethal autonomous weapon systems' (LAWS). In this eye-opening overview, a physicist, technology expert, and former Honeywell executive examines the advantages and the potential threats to humanity resulting from the deployment of completely autonomous weapon systems. Stressing the likelihood that these weapons will be available in the coming decades, the author raises key questions about how the world will be impacted. Though using robotic systems might lessen military casualties in a conflict, one major concern is: Should we allow machines to make life-and-death decisions in battle? Other areas of concern include the following: Who would be accountable for the actions of completely autonomous weapons--the programmer, the machine itself, or the country that deploys LAWS? When warfare becomes just a matter of technology, will war become more probable, edging humanity closer to annihilation? What if AI technology reaches a 'singularity level' so that our weapons are controlled by an intelligence exceeding human intelligence? Using vivid scenarios that immerse the reader in the ethical dilemmas and existential threats posed by lethal autonomous weapon systems, the book reveals that the dystopian visions of such movies as The Terminator and I, Robot may become a frightening reality in the near future. The author concludes with concrete recommendations, founded in historical precedent, to control this new arms race.

Arrow of God

Set in the Ibo heartland of eastern Nigeria, one of Africa's best-known writers describes the conflict between old and new in its most poignant aspect--the personal struggle between father and son.

Feminist Stylistics

First published in 2004. Routledge is an imprint of Taylor & Francis, an informa company.

Things Fall Apart

One of the BBC's '100 Novels That Shaped Our World' A worldwide bestseller and the first part of Achebe's African Trilogy, Things Fall Apart is the compelling story of one man's battle to protect his community against the forces of change Okonkwo is the greatest wrestler and warrior alive, and his fame spreads throughout West Africa like a bush-fire in the harmattan. But when he accidentally kills a clansman, things begin to fall apart. Then Okonkwo returns from exile to find missionaries and colonial governors have arrived in the village. With his world thrown radically off-balance he can only hurtle towards tragedy. First published in 1958, Chinua Achebe's stark, coolly ironic novel reshaped both African and world literature, and has sold over ten million copies in forty-five languages. This arresting parable of a proud but powerless man witnessing the ruin of his people begins Achebe's landmark trilogy of works chronicling the fate of one African community, continued in Arrow of God and No Longer at Ease. 'His courage and generosity are made manifest in the work' Toni Morrison 'The writer in whose company the prison walls fell down' Nelson Mandela 'A great book, that bespeaks a great, brave, kind, human spirit' John Updike With an Introduction by Biyi Bandele

Americanah

SHORTLISTED FOR THE BAILEYâe(tm)S WOMENâe(tm)S PRIZE FOR FICTION 2014. From the award-winning author of âe~Half of a Yellow Sun,âe(tm) a powerful story of love, race and identity. As teenagers in Lagos, Ifemelu and Obinze fall in love. Their Nigeria is under military dictatorship, and people are fleeing the country if they can. The self-assured Ifemelu departs for America. There she suffers defeats and triumphs, finds and loses relationships, all the while feeling the weight of something she never thought of back home: race. Obinze had hoped to join her, but post-9/11 America will not let him in, and he plunges into a dangerous, undocumented life in London. Thirteen years later, Obinze is a wealthy man in a newly democratic Nigeria, while Ifemelu has achieved success as a blogger. But after so long apart and so many changes, will they find the courage to meet again, face to face? Fearless, gripping, spanning three continents and numerous lives, the National Book Critics Circle Award-winning âe~Americanahâe(tm) is a richly told story of love and expectation set in todayâe(tm)s globalized world.

Dead Above Ground

For feisty young Lita Du Champ, New Orleans is a place dominated by her prosperous, hardworking family -- in particular, her strong-willed mother, Helen, who rules with an unshakable sense of propriety. It is also where Lita struggles to reconcile her loyalty to her mother with love for her restless, married sister Adele -- and tries to establish a life of her own in the face of crushing family responsibility. But neither she nor Mama Du Champ are prepared when Adele falls in love with Lucien Faure, a smooth operator with 'the devil's good looks' -- and a decades-old score to settle with Helen. As Lucien's revenge is set into terrible motion against all of the Du Champs, Lita uncovers her mother's mysterious past and the dark secrets that drive her: Lucien could possibly be Adele's father. From the forbidden elegance and wealth of the Vieux Carre through New Orleans' most sinister backstreets, Lita must confront her family's history in ways she never imagined -- and find one last, desperate chance to save the future of those she loves. Hailed as 'a powerful new voice in American fiction' (Henry Louis Gates, Jr.), Jervey Tervalon has drawn from his own heritage -- and the twisting family story that has lived and breathed in him his whole life -- to create a rich and unforgettable novel in DEAD ABOVE GROUND.

We Should All Be Feminists

The highly acclaimed, provocative New York Times bestseller from the award-winning, bestselling author of Americanah In this personal, eloquently-argued essay—adapted from the much-admired TEDx talk of the same name—Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie offers readers a unique definition of feminism for the twenty-first century, one rooted in inclusion and awareness. Drawing extensively on her own experiences and her deep understanding of the often masked realities of sexual politics, here is one remarkable author’s exploration of what it means to be a woman now—and an of-the-moment rallying cry for why we should all be feminists. “Nuanced and rousing.” —Vogue

Hippolyte s Island

In search of a new adventure, Hippolyte Webb, quixotic spirit, modern-day explorer, and natural historian, sets his sights on the Auroras, a group of tiny islands in the middle of the South Atlantic. His destination wouldn't be so unusual, except that these islands were last spotted almost two hundred years ago. Equipped with a centuries-old map, an inadequate sailboat, and an advance payment for a book about his quest, Hippolyte embarks on an unforgettable voyage, not just through unfamiliar seas but through the uncharted territory of his own mind and heart. This new novel by the author of The Sensualist and The Tattooed Map—lavishly illustrated with over forty illustrations—is an enigmatic tale bridging the space that lies between what we believe and what we know.