Customer Reviews

The Opposite House

5 star:		(1)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

The Opposite House by Helen Oyeyemi is a somewhat complex novel that focuses on the antics of Maja Carrerra, a Cuban-born Londoner, who is pregnant by her white Ghanaian boyfriend and "the opposite house" where a Santerian goddess, Aya Saramagua, ventures out to find her roots amid a prevalent `ache/longing' that seems to permeate her world.

Maja's world is filled with drama. Her parents, both highly educated academics, are exiles from Castro's Cuba who embrace London as a place for second chances, but cling to their Spanish and African roots. Her young mother is highly religious and blends Catholicism with Santeria (an African-Cuban religion), while her elderly father is seemingly an atheist. Thus, there is no surprise when her parents clash over religion and their disagreement lasts through the majority of the book. Her best friend, Amy Eleni, is a white lesbian who faces challenges dealing with her sexuality. Maja also deals with her unplanned pregnancy, her burgeoning singing career, her bohemian, film-maker boyfriend and a younger brother who is struggling to come of age as a black man in a Westernized London.

Oyeyemi writes angst into Maja's character with a longing for Cuba and her ancestors there. There was an attempt to draw parallels between the London-based Maja and the Lagos-based Aya; the Amy in Maja's world and an Ami in Aya's world -- but the symbolisms and allegories were quickly lost with this reader. It got to a point (midway in the novel) where I felt I needed to reread passages for clarity and understanding, but at that point, I could really care less about the characters and persevered through the narrative just to get through the story.

Honestly, if this were not a review book, I doubt if I would have had the interest and patience to finish the book. The author's writing style requires great patience on the reader's part and I found myself growing weary with the scene changes and the transitions from "reality" to the mystical "opposite" world where the story is carried in lyrical, symbolic prose (that I struggled to decipher). Initially, I was interested in Maja's world, but it quickly waned about a quarter into the book when the plot seemed to fizzle. I also really tried to connect with Aya's story, but failed miserably. The other characters (save Amy Eleni) offered nothing solid to support the plot or move the story forward. At the end of the novel, I felt no closure and was scratching my head and wondering what I had just read.

This was my first read with the author. I heard and read the rave reviews about her debut, The Icarus Girl, but never got a chance to read it. When I read the premise behind this novel, I was excited and so very much wanted to enjoy it; however, I was somewhat disappointed with the book as a whole. On a positive note, the author was successful in covering the cross-cultural aspects and I gave her credit for creativity and educating the reader about challenges of immigrants and differing views on the African Diaspora; thus the "3" rating. I am willing to read her debut and hope it will prove to be a better read for me.

Reviewed by Phyllis
APOOO BookClub

I'm faintly surprised that I managed to finish The Opposite House. A strange little book that I came by via the Writers on Writing podcast and I was impressed by the author's poetic turn of phrase and her youth (she's about 24 I think). I don't know quite how to explain or describe this book. It's an experience, not a journey. It doesn't always make sense, and in fact usually doesn't. I'm not sure it is supposed to. It starts somewhere, then goes nowhere but in a peaceful way. It's overblown, but incredibly subdued and small. It's a study in contrasts, I guess. I stated last week that I wasn't sure if it was incredibly brilliant and not able to be understood by the mortal mind, or if it was utter crap and we just think it is brilliant because we don't understand it. What is certain is that Helen Oyeyemi has a poets mind and some of her phrases are amazing enough to make me want to weep at her gift. This is "high literature" at a peak and I don't think I'd rush to read anything by Oyeyemi again, however this one will live on in my mind for quite a while methinks.

From The Opposite House by Helen Oyeyemi:

"I need my Cuba memory back, or something just as small, just as rich, to replace it, more food for my son, for me. I think I will pretend that I am not from Cuba and neither is my son. The boy and I started a race from that other country, and I got here first."

The Opposite House reads like a book written by the love child of Virginia Woolf and Gabriel Garcia Marquez, assuming either had been from Cuba. It's a story filled with yearning for a native country, or for the memory of a native country, despite the fact the main character, Maja Carmen Carrera, only has one memory left of her childhood. Twenty years later she's pregnant with her boyfriend Aaron's baby, and living in London. Still, that one memory goes along with her, haunting her dreams.

The book is shot through with so much internal conflict the pain is often palpable, and sometimes raw. An African Cuban, she doesn't feel she fully belongs in either the world with her memory of Cuba or in an England that doesn't completely feel like home, either:

"I was seven years old when we came here. I've come to think that there's an age beyond which it is impossible to lift a child from the pervading marinade of an original country, pat them down with a paper napkin and then deep-fry them in another country, another language like hot oil scalding the first language away. I arrived here just before that age."

It's the lushness of the language, though, that's the dominating factor in what makes this such a wonderful book. The sensuous language is woven throughout:

"The day was hot but gentle; beneath its healing steam lay granite, decrepit wood, rocks gloved in blanched sand. The harbour water caught sunlight in layered hoops of petrol-coloured dirt and tried to keep its clarity secret, but the divers told. Small, earth-brown boys kept bobbing up, their backbones hacking out of their skin, hair plastered to their heads, coin pouches around their waists rattling as they added new handfuls of slick bronze to their store."

The Opposite House is told in alternating narrative, flashing between Maja's story and the fantastical, alternate reality of a girl named Yemaya, whose connection with Maja really is never completely spelled out. Rather, it's a more spiritual connection, a reaching across the dimensions between two souls who don't feel fully at home, or at ease, and whose searchings lead them almost to each other, in a sort of alternate reality that lies between them. It has a lot to do with feeling alien, never able to feel you fit into a culture, but not able to go back, either, because that door has closed. It's this door, between the two worlds, that seems to be Oyeyemi's target, this ethereal, intangible "door" that won't open for either Maja or Yemaya, and it's this reality that frustrates the both of them. Yet, neither can forget the past, and they carry the weight of it with them while trying to make their lives elsewhere. They are a part of several cultures but don't completely belong to any one:

"I strip to my underwear and I study myself in the mirror; it is a bronzed sorrel woman with a net of curly hair who looks back, and she does not look Jamaican or Ghanian or Kenyan or Sudanese - the only firm thing that is sure is that she is black. Mami says only Cubans look like Cubans; put three Cuban girls together - white, black, Latina, whatever - and you just see it."

Ultimately, both women are strong. They are survivors. Despite their feelings of disconnection, they carve out lives for themselves in an adopted land that at the least is rich in opportunity and the potential for making a good life. And it's through the beauty of Oyeyemi's prose that the reader is able to explore not just the complexity of Maja and Yemaya, but also the tenuous link that binds them to each other. And the result is a gorgeous book, rich in luxuriant prose that's a treat to read.

"She fled to be born. She fled to be native, to start somewhere, to grow in that same somewhere, to die there. She didn't know just then that she wasn't quickening toward home, but trusting home to find her."

I read Icarus Girl, and though it was a bit too poetic at times (and spooked me a little), I thoroughly enjoyed it. I could barely get through the Opposite House. It just seemed really contrived, and, for me, didn't work. Writers like Eugenedes, Rushdie, and others succeed in using such lyrical prose, but in this case, it just seemed like Ms. Oyeyemi was trying too hard. She's a great talent, there's absolutely no debate about that, but I think she gets a bit carried away in trying to blow her audience's mind. Sometimes, it's o.k just to get their attention.

I'll be sure to check out her next work; I am still a fan.

Helen Oyeyemi is a young woman of Nigerian descent who has lived in London since 1988, when she was four years old. Being a black immigrant in Great Britain seems to have had a direct influence on this book, The Opposite House.

This is an unusual book and not a story that is easy to get into. Oyeyemi writes in a sumptuous poetic style that is filled with metaphors and color. An example of that style comes from page 51 of this edition, "Cars thread past the traffic lights like an outpour of lost buttons." This descriptive style is both rich and confusing in that the metaphors frequently took me away from the flow of the story.

The novel is mainly about Maja, an Afro-Cuban girl who emigrated from Cuba to England when her father began to feel that Castro's government was not going to let him live the life they desired. Like Oyeyemi, Maja was four when she arrived in London and as the plot unfolds she has only a few confused memories of Cuba. In school this is an issue because she is the descendent of slaves brought to Cuba-so her heritage is African, but she has never been there at all. This causes her to struggle with her identity and confuses her ideas of where her life should be going. Her best friend is from Trinidad and her boyfriend is a white Ghanaian.

Adding to this somewhat convoluted racial plot is a subplot of magical realism - a somewherehouse with doors to London and Lagos. There are characters there that seem to reflect some aspect of Maja's feelings. These sections are reminiscent of the works of Gabriel Garcia-Marquez and Toni Morrison.

This is a book that is definitely not light reading, but could make for an interesting discussion piece in the right class or book group.

Armchair Interviews agrees.

Maja Carrerra was born in Cuba and immigrated to London at the tender age of four because her parents, Papi and Chabella, decided Castro's regime was not what they wanted for their lives. Maja's parents are educated people who struggle to preserve their Spanish and African roots within London. Her mother is a staunchly religious women, practicing the African-Cuban religion of Santeria when her father bemoans the religion with an atheist attitude.

THE OPPOSITE HOUSE by Helen Oyeyemi showcases Maja, a twenty-something singer who is pregnant by Aaron, a white Ghanaian filmmaker. Symbolically the "somewherehouse" boasts Yemaya Saramagua, a mystical Santerian searching for her roots through the doors leading London and Lagos. The novel alternates between Maja's story and Yemaya's searching. Maja is constantly searching for an understanding of the history of her ancestors and it is apparent Oyeyemi is attempting to draw a connection between the two women.

THE OPPOSITE HOUSE is a complicated read because the transitioning from reality to mysticism, that of Maja's story to Aya's story, is not easy to navigate and thus difficult to interpret. The writing style is very descriptive and the use of the many metaphors affects the continuity. However, Oyeyemi provides history lessons of the African cultures in Cuba and within Africa. Fidelity and the discovery of self are the cornerstones of the THE OPPOSITE HOUSE.

Reviewed by Dawn R. Reeves
of The RAWSISTAZ(tm) Reviewers