Previous
Allusions
Definition of Dramatic Irony
Dramatic irony is a plot device often used in theater, literature, film, and television to highlight the difference between a character's understanding of a given situation, and that of the... read full definition
Dramatic irony is a plot device often used in theater, literature, film, and television to highlight the difference between a character's understanding of a given... read full definition
Dramatic irony is a plot device often used in theater, literature, film, and television to highlight the difference between a... read full definition
Chapter 1
Explanation and Analysis—Going to See My Man:
A hairdressing appointment turns into something of a storytelling session in Chapter 1. Pressed with questions from Aisha and Mariama about her reasons for returning to Nigeria, Ifemelu begins concocting stories for herself. What follows is thick with dramatic irony:
“I’m also going back to Nigeria to see my man,” Ifemelu said, surprising herself. My man. How easy it was to lie to strangers, to create with strangers the versions of our lives that we have imagined.
Ifemelu confidently explains her return to Nigeria as part of a reunion with her lover. The reader, though, knows that none of this true. Still single after her recent break-up with Blaine, Ifemelu has not been in contact with Obinze for years. The fictions simply come out, unbidden and unscripted. This is a moment in which Ifemelu discovers “how easy it was to lie to strangers.” But it is also an instance in which she uses her immigrant status to imagine alternate futures and construct double identities for herself. If marrying Obinze offers an imaginary excuse before the Nigerian immigrants in America, her relationship with Blaine serves the same purpose to the friends and family back home. To her parents, she promises that Blaine will follow her in a few months and uses him as “armor” in conversations with friends like Ranyinudo. Straddling separate worlds, Ifemelu finds the freedom to navigate between them both.
Related Themes:
Chapter 3
Explanation and Analysis—Blind Faith:
Ifemelu’s mother succumbs to staggering dramatic irony in Chapter 3. Caught in her bouts of religious fervor, she deludes herself about Aunty Uju’s miraculous good luck and even prays for the General:
Every morning, Ifemelu’s mother prayed for The General. She would say, “Heavenly father, I command you to bless Uju’s mentor. May his enemies never triumph over him!” Or she would say, “We cover Uju’s mentor with the precious blood of Jesus!” […] Her mother said the word “mentor” defiantly, a thickness in her tone, as though the force of her delivery would truly turn The General into a mentor, and also remake the world into a place where young doctors could afford Aunty Uju’s new Mazda, that green, glossy, intimidatingly streamlined car.
Dramatic irony builds a jarring distance between the rosy fantasies entertained by Ifemelu’s mother and the sad truth that even the reader can sense. The General’s “mentorship” is no blessing: Aunty Uju’s “quiet smile” and “embarrassed casualness” when handing her brother cash suggest anything but. Aunty Uju’s uneasy acquaintance with the General—the powerful man who assures her of his support—hardly needs further explanation. Yet the mother’s passionate blindness creates an uncomfortable tension with Ifemelu’s own knowledge. God has not so much blessed Aunty Uju as taken her sexual innocence from her. Framed in this light, her mother’s pious, innocent devotion feels warped and strangely twisted.
Related Themes:
Chapter 29
Explanation and Analysis—Emenike’s Success:
Obinze’s meal with Emenike in Chapter 29 comes wrapped with situational irony. By the time Emenike meets him at the restaurant, Obinze finds a smooth-spoken man scarcely recognizable from the classmate from his memories:
“Oh, I think he’ll like it,” Emenike said. Self-satisfaction, that was the difference in him. He was married to a British woman, lived in a British home, worked at a British job, traveled on a British passport, said “exercise” to refer to a mental rather than a physical activity. He had longed for this life, and never quite believed he would have it. Now his backbone was stiff with self-satisfaction. He was sated. In the restaurant in Kensington, a candle glowed on the table, and the blond waiter, who seemed too tall and handsome to be a waiter, served tiny bowls of what looked like green jelly.
Urbane and polished, Emenike has dramatically remade his former self—succeeded beyond even his wildest expectations. At school, Emenike's classmates used to treat him condescendingly, humoring his pathetic fictions and imaginings. He “made up stories of rich parents that everyone knew he didn’t have, so immersed in his need to invent a life that was not his.” He would stroke Kayode’s Swiss leather shoes, imagine applying for a visa, and speak of family members who are “making it” abroad. Now, every one of his dreams has come to to fruition. The “sharp,” shameless social striver has almost willed his fortunes to change in exactly the way he had hoped for. He inflects his every word with “self-satisfaction,” married a wealthy White woman, and worked himself right into Britain’s upper classes. The school outcast has become a British success story just as Obinze finds himself sliding in the opposite direction.
Related Themes:
