Contextualizing Chris Abani
The more research I conduct on acclaimed poet, author and scholar Chris Abani, the more I realize the necessity to contextualize his work not only in the realms of contemporary poetry, but in those of literature and Nigerian thinkers. In my research I discovered that widely read contemporary Nigerian writers such as Adesanmi and Dunton have described the emerging generation of Nigerian writers as “Third- Generation” writers (Uwasomba 94). However, Uwasomba, a Nigerian scholar and educator at the University of Obafemi Awolowo, dismisses this claim in favor of his own, in which he categorizes Chris Abani’s generation as “The Fifth Generation” of Nigerian writers (94). Abani’s generation, Uwasomba claims, is one composed of bold and enthusiastic writers who, being largely educated in the west, are sharing not only their culture, but their imaginations with the rest of the English-speaking world. Abani certainly fits this description, as does his poetry; the stories he tells—whether fictitious or based on personal narrative—are riveting, audacious, and raw. However, while it is fairly clear where Abani’s stands as a contemporary Nigerian novelist, pinpointing his place in the elusive sentinel that is “contemporary poetry” is less straightforward. In order to accurately place Abani’s work in a contemporary poetry movement, it is important to first understand the literary trends of recent decades. Poet and recognized literary scholar Timothy Steele suggests that the most poignant attribute of poetry produced in the last several decades is largely the dissuasion from formal versification and metrical composition.
According to Steele, despite colorful developments in imagery, rhetoric, and subject matter, poets of the 21st century have largely neglected “prosody”, or strict patterns of rhyme and sound (Steele). Additionally, the lack of metrical composition in late 20th/early 21st century poetry is a characteristic too common to be ignored. Himself an engineer of the New Formalist movement (though Steele has expressed his skepticism such a movement exists) which advocates a renewed focus on traditional poetic form and composition, Steele argues that as poets of recent decades avoid strict prosody and metrics, so too are they forgetting how to compose versified poetry. Consequently, many contemporary poets including Abani may not write with formal metrics because they believe that it will confine them to one particular analytic abstraction, which will affect the tone of their work as a whole. This said, on a mechanical level, it is challenging to place Abani in any other poetic trend than the loosely-inclusive “free-verse” movement, which has been something of a theoretical commons for contemporary poets. Regardless, when considering his work, Abani is no exception, as he composes exclusively in free-verse form.
Returning then to Abani’s identity not only as a poet but a Nigerian writer, one of the prevailing characteristics of Abani’s work is his appeal for the reformation of human rights through his own personal narrative. As is expressed by writer and sociologist Madelaine Hron of Wilfrid Laurier University, the work of fifth-generation Nigerian writers often raises concerns about neocolonialism in Africa and the human rights violations that stem from globalization (Hron 27). In this endeavor, Abani is no exception. In fact, Abani’s identity as a post-colonial writer is one of the few labels that he tentatively accepts. In a detailed interview conducted by African researcher Yogita Goyal, Abani discloses that while many try to label him as strictly an Igbo writer, he has often resisted this title in order so that his work may proliferate uncategorized. Abani holds that the moment a human rights-concerned writer adheres to any label at all, they will pay dearly in regards to readership (Goyal 234). However, Abani also holds that his refusal to write in expected ways has “freed me up to develop my own path, my own unique style, one that attracts its readers from all over the world and who are deeply committed to my characters and ideas because they often resonate deeply with them” (234). I feel the articulation of this refusal to be labeled as a particular type of writer is one of the most ironic contextual characteristics of Abani; his declination to be contextualized at all.
To delve specifically into why Abani’s work is so multifaceted and therefore difficult to catalog, I turn again to his own words. Both Abani’s prose and poetry give homage to an idea about literature that transcends the ages: the deepness and profundity of the human condition. Rather than become a political activist, Abani chooses instead to focus on “the dignity and humanity of the character I am working through and how they face the often incomprehensible and still manage to keep a deep humanness. A deep grace” (Goyal 237). Choosing to focus on this higher ideal is precisely what makes Abani’s work so transcendental; it is truly communicative, appealing to all the finer components of the human spirit while still telling a story that is personal or unique to Abani. Whether it be his fictions novel Graceland, or the collection of poems Santificum, Abani is an artist whose greatest trait is his greatest motivation: his humanity. To contextualize Abani is to learn about several different spheres of contemporary art and expression, because as an artist, Abani’s brush draws from multiple pallets. Though he deliberately makes effort to ensure that he remains without a strict label, anyone who is familiar with that vast array of his work will quickly realize that perhaps such effort is unnecessary. His talent and prowess as a creator and humanist make his work naturally ubiquitous.