Chris Abani’s collection of autobiographical poems, titled Smoking the Bible, delves into the relationship between two brothers raised in Nigeria by an Igbo father and an English mother. These poems, which blend Igbo language with references to West African customs, explore the loyalty of a sibling who becomes a caregiver as his brother battles cancer. Themes of displacement, domestic violence, social unrest, and forms of post-colonial oppression resonate throughout this poignant and well-crafted collection.
The verses in Smoking the Bible portray various forms of suffering, showcasing Abani’s ability to capture the fragility of life in Nigeria. In the poem “Incantation,” the poet’s native language conveys a depth that transcends other languages:
Finding words to comfort
a dying brother, still slipping away.
A man fasting for weeks now
sips water, claiming, Even thirst is a blessing.
He seeks other gifts God has bestowed upon him.
You are my gift, his daughter asserts from a corner.
And with a smile, he whispers –
You can only unwrap a child once.
The rest is prayer, endless prayer.
In a language known only to you both,
softly you sing to him as he
breathes softly against your hand, life slipping away.
The collection suggests that making sense of suffering is a futile endeavor, leading readers to question what can be gleaned from struggling with the unexplainable. This sentiment is echoed in the poem “Sojourn,” where the pain of loss is juxtaposed with the speaker’s belief in the continuity of existence beyond death.
The collection includes moments of tenderness, with Abani showing a keen awareness of the human experience within the diaspora. Through his poetry, he challenges what Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka refers to as the “fictionalization of Africa.” In the poem “Flay,” for instance, Abani breaks away from the conventional English sonnet format, shifting to couplets mid-poem. This departure from tradition reflects his innovative approach. In another piece, “Fragrance,” Abani evokes the nuances of the Igbo language, demonstrating a deep connection to traditional practices and cultural symbols.
In line with Igbo storytelling traditions, Smoking the Bible utilizes literary devices such as internal rhyme, assonance, and repetition to evoke vivid imagery and emotional resonance. For instance, the opening lines of “Olokun” paint a vivid picture of the speaker’s environment in Evanston, Illinois:
Through the dense mist of the lake,
Evanston’s lighthouse casts a dim light,
more glow than blaze,
yet enough for spirits
to linger and dwell by the shore.
Abani’s work aligns with other poets like Victoria Chang, Prageeta Sharma, and Forrest Gander, who transform personal grief into poetic expression. While loosely characterized as elegiac, their poetry explores themes of mortality and memory, crafting art from sorrow. Smoking the Bible distinguishes itself by emphasizing the significance of ancestral language and cultural rituals, underscoring the transformative power of language in the poetic experience. Through his words, Abani invites readers on a journey of introspection, illustrating that solace can be found even amidst personal tragedies.
