'The Fishermen' Ventures Into Dark Waters
There is very little light in The Fishermen; it's a relentlessly somber book that still manages to pull the reader in even as it gets more and more melancholy. The few scenes of carefree childhood joy are clouded by the prospect of what's to come, and Obioma is unsparing when it comes to writing about death, grief and the increasingly tragic destruction of an already beaten down family.
As dark as Obioma's prose is, though, it's also beautiful. His use of language is rich and hypnotic, and nearly every page is filled with an unexpected and perfectly rendered description. Abulu, for example, "subpoenaed tranquil spirits, fanned the violence of small flames, and rattled the lives of many," while the boys' mother "owned copies of our minds in the pockets of her own mind and so could easily sniff troubles early in their forming, the same way sailors discern the forming foetus of a coming storm."
Many parts of The Fishermen read like an incantation, albeit one that slowly turns into an elegy. It's hard to overlook the religious themes of the book — a priest tries to shoo the boys away from the river, but they pay him no heed. And when Ikenna initially invites his brothers to join him in his new hobby, he tells them, "Follow us, and we will make you fishermen!" It's almost certainly a reference to the Book of Matthew, when Jesus tells Simon Peter and Andrew "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."
Things don't work out for Ikenna; of course, but they didn't work out for Jesus, either — at least in this world. The Fishermen might be bleak, but it's an excellent debut that does a very good job wrestling with some extremely difficult themes. Chigozie Obioma writes with sophistication and inventiveness; he's obviously deeply in love with the English language, and it shows. This is a dark and beautiful book by a writer with seemingly endless promise.