Writing, the Gambler's Art: A Conversation with Chigozie Obioma

Writing, the Gambler's ArtA Conversation with Chigozie Obioma Darlington Chibueze Anuonye (bio) and Chigozie Obioma (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution Photo by UNL Photography Darlington Chibueze Anuonye: In 2015, at the age of twenty-eight, you published The Fishermen to global acclaim, and it was shortlisted for the Booker Prize that year (WLT, Nov. 2015, 63). That was the second year in which the Booker, since its first award in 1969, extended beyond the UK, the Commonwealth, the Republic of Ireland, and Zimbabwe. By emerging as a finalist in such an international competition, you achieved a solid literary success that resonated with many struggling young African writers who saw in both your youth and your gift a testament to the validity of their dreams. When An Orchestra of Minorities emerged as a finalist for the Booker Prize in 2019, you became one of the few African authors to be shortlisted more than once for the prize. What are the impacts of the Booker recognition on your career? Chigozie Obioma: Thank you for your kind words. I think you know by now that writing is not easy: it is art, and therefore a gamble. No one ever sets out knowing how their work will be received. You can have a hunch that something positive can happen, but you must simply face the work and make sure you realize your artistic vision beyond all else. Now, let me emphasize the term "artistic vision." This is simply the wholistic portrait, a kind of unwritten map, you have in your mind concerning said work and what you want to achieve with it. In my own experience, that map/vision is always so grand it can be sometimes overpowering. So, my work when in the field of writing is actually all about trying to meet the vision as faithfully as possible. Most of the time, if I achieve 50 percent of the initial vision, the work is a success to me. But the ideal is 60 to 70 percent. I don't believe it is possible to achieve the vision at full scale for any project ever. Perhaps, at some point I might try this, but I'm also wary of overexerting myself. So, what am I saying here? I think what appeals to people in my work—if anything appeals—is a sense that I have tried to grapple with something big and significant, even if just significant to me and my people, as is the case of Odinani in An Orchestra of Minorities. In essence, I think this is perhaps why both novels have gained recognition from the Booker Prize and other prizes around the world. Of course, the prize changes lives. I don't believe anyone would be reading me today if not for the Booker. Even a longlist, due to massive coverage, brings you so many readers, let alone a shortlisting. So, I've [End Page 44] been very lucky and very grateful, which was why I agreed without hesitation to judge the prize since it has done so much for me and my career as a writer. Anuonye: You told Amanda Curtin that you wrote The Fishermen as a tribute to the love growing between two of your older brothers who did not get along so well as teenagers, as well as a commentary on the checkered relationship between the previously independent nations and tribes that make up Nigeria. I am interested in the madman. So much has been said about his symbolic characterization as the force of colonialism, but I am thinking of him now simply as a sick man in need of rehabilitation. I think readers may appreciate the character's humanity if he is read as a sick body living in a traumatic space. Does the neglect of the madman's mental health not raise questions about how we treat the mentally ill in our society? Obioma: One of the things that manifests in my style, I hope, is that I think in symbols and metaphors. Even in ordinary-day speeches, I sometimes can only express myself through analogies. So, analogies, figurative language, almost come naturally to me. Therefore, for me, Abulu...