Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I admire Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I consider Purple Hibiscus a great book and Half of a Yellow Sun not too far behind. The Purple Hibiscus revealed what a great story teller she is - observant and empathetic with a felicity for lyrical prose. I took up Americanah with the eagerness of a child revisiting a favorite place and discarded my critical shield.

Do you already suspect what is coming next?

Disappointment might be too strong a word, but, to say the least, I was not bowled over. Americanah, a 480-page tome, is about 'race', particularly about its 'controversial' ism in America. It is more of an informal essay that relies on a flood of anecdotal props, stitched together to outline a story and thus couched as a work of fiction.

The story is largely seen through the eyes of a Nigerian woman - with a charming name Ifemelu - who travels from Nigeria to the US and, after a stay that ends in many loves, daily brushes with 'race', a blog and the acquisition of a Green Card, back to her native country. In the meanwhile, lest we not get the full picture, her first love Obinze also makes a sojourn to London before being deported for being an illegal immigrant.

The story line is thin and the entire purpose of the book is to squeeze every possible shade of racial differences as possible. The narrative does its best to paint a balanced picture - it is not merely a whites versus blacks story, but a sweeping account of the innate differences among people of different ethnic moorings. And it is built around the story of loss of love.

To be sure the book is an achievement in observation and retelling. It held my interest, if only because I felt that something more might be revealed. In the end though I found it mildly satisfying, it was a meal that held more promise than the cook could actually deliver.