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419
A startlingly original tale of heartbreak and suspense
A car tumbles down a snowy ravine. Accident or suicide?
On the other side of the world, a young woman walks out of a sandstorm in sub-Saharan Africa. In the labyrinth of the Niger Delta, a young boy learns to survive by navigating through the gas flares and oil spills of a ruined landscape. In the seething heat of Lagos City, a criminal cartel scours the internet looking for victims.
Lives intersect, worlds collide, a family falls apart. And it all begins with a single email: “Dear Sir, I am the son of an exiled Nigerian diplomat, and I need your help ...”
419 takes readers behind the scene of the world’s most insidious internet scam. When Laura’s father gets caught up in one such swindle and pays with his life, she is forced to leave the comfort of North America to make a journey deep into the dangerous back streets and alleyways of the Lagos underworld to confront her father’s killer. What she finds there will change her life forever...
A car tumbles down a snowy ravine. Accident or suicide?
On the other side of the world, a young woman walks out of a sandstorm in sub-Saharan Africa. In the labyrinth of the Niger Delta, a young boy learns to survive by navigating through the gas flares and oil spills of a ruined landscape. In the seething heat of Lagos City, a criminal cartel scours the internet looking for victims.
Lives intersect, worlds collide, a family falls apart. And it all begins with a single email: “Dear Sir, I am the son of an exiled Nigerian diplomat, and I need your help ...”
419 takes readers behind the scene of the world’s most insidious internet scam. When Laura’s father gets caught up in one such swindle and pays with his life, she is forced to leave the comfort of North America to make a journey deep into the dangerous back streets and alleyways of the Lagos underworld to confront her father’s killer. What she finds there will change her life forever...
393 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2012
About the author
Will Ferguson
40 books531 followersWill Ferguson is an award-winning travel writer and novelist. His last work of fiction, 419, won the Scotiabank Giller Prize. He has won the Stephen Leacock Medal for Humour a record-tying three times and has been nominated for both the IMPAC Dublin Literary Award and a Commonwealth Writers’ Prize. His new novel, The Shoe on the Roof, will be released October 17, 2017. Visit him at WillFerguson.ca
Ferguson studied film production and screenwriting at York University in Toronto, graduating with a B.F.A. in 1990. He joined the Japan Exchange Teachers Programme (JET) soon after and spent five years in Asia. He married his wife Terumi in Kumamoto, Japan, in 1995. They now live in Calgary with their two sons. After coming back from Japan he experienced a reverse culture shock, which became the basis for his first book Why I Hate Canadians. With his brother, Ian Ferguson, he wrote the bestselling sequel How to be a Canadian. Ferguson details his experiences hitchhiking across Japan in Hokkaido Highway Blues (later retitled Hitching Rides with Buddha), his travels across Canada in Beauty Tips from Moose Jaw, and a journey through central Africa in Road Trip Rwanda. His debut novel, Happiness, was sold into 23 languages around the world. He has written for The New York Times, Esquire UK, and Canadian Geographic magazine.
Ferguson studied film production and screenwriting at York University in Toronto, graduating with a B.F.A. in 1990. He joined the Japan Exchange Teachers Programme (JET) soon after and spent five years in Asia. He married his wife Terumi in Kumamoto, Japan, in 1995. They now live in Calgary with their two sons. After coming back from Japan he experienced a reverse culture shock, which became the basis for his first book Why I Hate Canadians. With his brother, Ian Ferguson, he wrote the bestselling sequel How to be a Canadian. Ferguson details his experiences hitchhiking across Japan in Hokkaido Highway Blues (later retitled Hitching Rides with Buddha), his travels across Canada in Beauty Tips from Moose Jaw, and a journey through central Africa in Road Trip Rwanda. His debut novel, Happiness, was sold into 23 languages around the world. He has written for The New York Times, Esquire UK, and Canadian Geographic magazine.
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January 4, 2015
I finally break with a long string of novels about family dysfunction and land in a city that I think is supposed to be Calgary - somewhere in Alberta, anyway - and Nigeria: ranked 162 of 190 on the UNDP's Human Development Index and dead last on the list of countries The Economist recently reported a baby would best be born in, in 2013.
Ferguson's 2012 Giller-prize winning novel brings West Africa (or at least a sliver of it) to life through the cesspool of desperation, greed and poverty that is directly responsible for breeding the many forms of the '419' scheme: "Dearest Madame, my uncle a wealthy businessman is terminally ill and needs to deposit $34,739,952 in your bank account...".
It starts with a simple and intriguing premise: who responds to these things anyway? It proceeds to link four parallel plots together to show what happens when someone does, and how complex the web of corruption and responsibility is: who owes, who pays, who wins, who loses. Who is prey, and who is predator?
The plot has a classic detective story feel to it and that remains the centrifugal force holding it together, but I think it's Ferguson's unique sensibility as a travel writer that really lifts this story out of the ho-hum. There is so much movement in it - three of the four plots involve journeys: 1) an impoverished woman, Amina, travels south from the Sahel to seek a better life for herself and her unborn child; 2) a young man of great promise, Nnamdi, travels north out of the Nigerian Delta to do the same; 3) a sad and lonely copy editor, Laura, travels east (or would she travel west?) from Alberta to Nigeria, to avenge her father's death. The fourth plot - that of the scammer himself and the network that consumes and supports him - is still, with WWW-enabled reach, waiting to ensnare the three.
There's a proverb: Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning a lion wakes up. It knows it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn't matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle...when the sun comes up, you'd better be running.
In this story, everyone is running. Who is predator, and who is prey?
A most worthwhile read.
Ferguson's 2012 Giller-prize winning novel brings West Africa (or at least a sliver of it) to life through the cesspool of desperation, greed and poverty that is directly responsible for breeding the many forms of the '419' scheme: "Dearest Madame, my uncle a wealthy businessman is terminally ill and needs to deposit $34,739,952 in your bank account...".
It starts with a simple and intriguing premise: who responds to these things anyway? It proceeds to link four parallel plots together to show what happens when someone does, and how complex the web of corruption and responsibility is: who owes, who pays, who wins, who loses. Who is prey, and who is predator?
The plot has a classic detective story feel to it and that remains the centrifugal force holding it together, but I think it's Ferguson's unique sensibility as a travel writer that really lifts this story out of the ho-hum. There is so much movement in it - three of the four plots involve journeys: 1) an impoverished woman, Amina, travels south from the Sahel to seek a better life for herself and her unborn child; 2) a young man of great promise, Nnamdi, travels north out of the Nigerian Delta to do the same; 3) a sad and lonely copy editor, Laura, travels east (or would she travel west?) from Alberta to Nigeria, to avenge her father's death. The fourth plot - that of the scammer himself and the network that consumes and supports him - is still, with WWW-enabled reach, waiting to ensnare the three.
There's a proverb: Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning a lion wakes up. It knows it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn't matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle...when the sun comes up, you'd better be running.
In this story, everyone is running. Who is predator, and who is prey?
A most worthwhile read.
September 24, 2013
Dear Giller Prize judges,
Please stop giving the prize to authors who choose the most controversial subject matter and give it to the one who wrote the best book.
Thanks.
This book was almost there. Lots of good stuff about it, but in the end unsatisfying and unfocussed. It seems the author couldn't decide between a sort of travel-detective story and a modern fable and they sort of crashed awkwardly in the middle.
First off, if you want to set a book in Nigeria, set it there. Don't half-ass a Canadian setting just to be more accessible to readers. The Nigeria parts of this book were far more interesting and engaging and you could tell Ferguson was far more invested in writing them. This book plays so much with good guy/bad guy that it would have been so much more interesgin if there wasn't some obvious North American "good guy" to follow.
That "good guy", Laura, was just unbelievable anyway. Really, she goes from no life, boring copy editor eating in a mall food court to international avenger and comes out without a scrape? Could we maybe have seen her doing a little more research about her destination, planning her trip? However, as a lover of language and words, I did love how she turns forensic detective and uses her skills with language to catch the scammer.
Characterization was unbalanced- I loved the Nnamdi part and got invested in his story but couldn't really have cared less about the undeveloped Amina- and most of all couldn't buy into the tenuous and contrived link between them. And then she's the one who gets any kind of redemption in the end?? It would have been more meaningful to have no redemption for anyone.
Please stop giving the prize to authors who choose the most controversial subject matter and give it to the one who wrote the best book.
Thanks.
This book was almost there. Lots of good stuff about it, but in the end unsatisfying and unfocussed. It seems the author couldn't decide between a sort of travel-detective story and a modern fable and they sort of crashed awkwardly in the middle.
First off, if you want to set a book in Nigeria, set it there. Don't half-ass a Canadian setting just to be more accessible to readers. The Nigeria parts of this book were far more interesting and engaging and you could tell Ferguson was far more invested in writing them. This book plays so much with good guy/bad guy that it would have been so much more interesgin if there wasn't some obvious North American "good guy" to follow.
That "good guy", Laura, was just unbelievable anyway. Really, she goes from no life, boring copy editor eating in a mall food court to international avenger and comes out without a scrape? Could we maybe have seen her doing a little more research about her destination, planning her trip? However, as a lover of language and words, I did love how she turns forensic detective and uses her skills with language to catch the scammer.
Characterization was unbalanced- I loved the Nnamdi part and got invested in his story but couldn't really have cared less about the undeveloped Amina- and most of all couldn't buy into the tenuous and contrived link between them. And then she's the one who gets any kind of redemption in the end?? It would have been more meaningful to have no redemption for anyone.
April 24, 2019
3.5 stars
Never having read a Will Ferguson novel before, I didn't choose one of his travel pieces or belly laughing satires. 419 is perhaps a strange one to start with, but I found myself glued to this yesterday.
The story all starts with a Calgary man descending to his death. His grown daughter searches for answers that will take readers from Canada to Nigeria.
For once I agree with book critics, I truly enjoyed this story.
Never having read a Will Ferguson novel before, I didn't choose one of his travel pieces or belly laughing satires. 419 is perhaps a strange one to start with, but I found myself glued to this yesterday.
The story all starts with a Calgary man descending to his death. His grown daughter searches for answers that will take readers from Canada to Nigeria.
For once I agree with book critics, I truly enjoyed this story.
November 25, 2012
[Canadian Giller Prize Winner 2012].
Good concept – but a little too ‘concept’ (all the way to calling it ‘419’, which has a whiff of dystopian global SF about it at first). It’s rather let down by its character development and plot structure, which (I hate saying this) do feel ‘first novel’ and meant it struggled to satisfy. I’m a little surprised this one beat Alix Ohlin’s ‘Inside’.
Now, you can tell Will Ferguson is a travel writer. He’s done his Nigeria homework and that’s the book’s great strength. He’s strong on customs, ethnic relations, languages, food, war and politics. I came out of this with the sense of having travelled through a (yes, stereotypically) corrupt, dangerous and environmentally damned place (one that makes Russia, at its most heartless, look like Legoland).
He captures the 419 experience and machine very well too (emails are faithfully parodied), from internet café to victim. He also poses some interesting questions about the West and Africa (the thought hadn’t occurred to me that, arguably, 419 might be seen as some karmic payback for the rape of Africa. Interesting idea). It’s thorough and it’s didactic.
I particularly liked moments like the tourist-oriented bullshit banter the driver gives Laura about Lagos – it’s so very common for spokesmen of a city to talk about it as if it’s an exasperating but still adored lover ("That’s [city] for you… she’s a cruel mistress, but we [city residents] still love her. Ask any [city resident]…").
The book's central flaw is its character development. I wasn’t beguiled or interested in ‘Amina’, and she never really evolved beyond a rather bland, mute ‘innocent’ trying to get away from somewhere or other, for some reason or other – oh, and she’s expecting a baby. I struggled to buy into Nnandi’s interest in and commitment to her too. This being a place where ethnic group is everything, the fact that he not only takes her on board but her child-to-be (rather tweely) becomes ‘my child’. That commitment hangs on some shared food and the odd knowing, platonic exchange of smiles.
Nnandi’s own progression from boy to mechanic-wizard also seemed in need of a TV series style ‘three years later’ fade to black. Likewise, Laura’s transformation from anonymous Food Court patron to international scambuster didn’t really wash. Warren was just ‘angry white guy'.
The structure also frustrated me. Amina’s chapters are pretty arid (at times I wished for some pointer of where the hell she was heading, to help focus interest) and the flitting back for slender one-paragraph chapters to North America felt, again, self-consciously made-for-TV and shallow (as if to say, ‘Hey, I haven’t forgotten about the Canucks, right!?’).
In some respects, I had the feeling the writer enjoyed writing about Nigeria far more. The strongest chapters were actually the oil mission into the Sharia states – a kind of thug-lined road movie. Joe Igbo worked for me (a bandit with emerging warmth and a drink problem). The Canadian chapters felt thin.
The tie-up also felt a little hasty and perfunctory. Mom pretty much says it’s alright now ‘I never liked that house anyway’ – for me, rather taking the fire out of Laura’s vengeance. Amina completes the circle as Laura suddenly un-avenges Nigeria. So, we’re all square. Hmmm.
So, this one’s promising and strong on concept, but a little over-ambitious and ‘made for TV’. Think of it as a smarter mass-market airport thriller. Will Ferguson’s got plenty of promise. Next time, I’d get back into the Nigerian setting though. That’s where its strengths are and where his undoubted observational talents come through most strongly.
Good concept – but a little too ‘concept’ (all the way to calling it ‘419’, which has a whiff of dystopian global SF about it at first). It’s rather let down by its character development and plot structure, which (I hate saying this) do feel ‘first novel’ and meant it struggled to satisfy. I’m a little surprised this one beat Alix Ohlin’s ‘Inside’.
Now, you can tell Will Ferguson is a travel writer. He’s done his Nigeria homework and that’s the book’s great strength. He’s strong on customs, ethnic relations, languages, food, war and politics. I came out of this with the sense of having travelled through a (yes, stereotypically) corrupt, dangerous and environmentally damned place (one that makes Russia, at its most heartless, look like Legoland).
He captures the 419 experience and machine very well too (emails are faithfully parodied), from internet café to victim. He also poses some interesting questions about the West and Africa (the thought hadn’t occurred to me that, arguably, 419 might be seen as some karmic payback for the rape of Africa. Interesting idea). It’s thorough and it’s didactic.
I particularly liked moments like the tourist-oriented bullshit banter the driver gives Laura about Lagos – it’s so very common for spokesmen of a city to talk about it as if it’s an exasperating but still adored lover ("That’s [city] for you… she’s a cruel mistress, but we [city residents] still love her. Ask any [city resident]…").
The book's central flaw is its character development. I wasn’t beguiled or interested in ‘Amina’, and she never really evolved beyond a rather bland, mute ‘innocent’ trying to get away from somewhere or other, for some reason or other – oh, and she’s expecting a baby. I struggled to buy into Nnandi’s interest in and commitment to her too. This being a place where ethnic group is everything, the fact that he not only takes her on board but her child-to-be (rather tweely) becomes ‘my child’. That commitment hangs on some shared food and the odd knowing, platonic exchange of smiles.
Nnandi’s own progression from boy to mechanic-wizard also seemed in need of a TV series style ‘three years later’ fade to black. Likewise, Laura’s transformation from anonymous Food Court patron to international scambuster didn’t really wash. Warren was just ‘angry white guy'.
The structure also frustrated me. Amina’s chapters are pretty arid (at times I wished for some pointer of where the hell she was heading, to help focus interest) and the flitting back for slender one-paragraph chapters to North America felt, again, self-consciously made-for-TV and shallow (as if to say, ‘Hey, I haven’t forgotten about the Canucks, right!?’).
In some respects, I had the feeling the writer enjoyed writing about Nigeria far more. The strongest chapters were actually the oil mission into the Sharia states – a kind of thug-lined road movie. Joe Igbo worked for me (a bandit with emerging warmth and a drink problem). The Canadian chapters felt thin.
The tie-up also felt a little hasty and perfunctory. Mom pretty much says it’s alright now ‘I never liked that house anyway’ – for me, rather taking the fire out of Laura’s vengeance. Amina completes the circle as Laura suddenly un-avenges Nigeria. So, we’re all square. Hmmm.
So, this one’s promising and strong on concept, but a little over-ambitious and ‘made for TV’. Think of it as a smarter mass-market airport thriller. Will Ferguson’s got plenty of promise. Next time, I’d get back into the Nigerian setting though. That’s where its strengths are and where his undoubted observational talents come through most strongly.
September 25, 2019
Rather than letting down her long braid to be saved by a prince Rapunzel will tie the end to a post, lower herself down, cut her hair off and run free. Laura, the heroine of this fantastic story, not only reimagines the fairy tale she lives it. Ferguson explores the deeper thematic ideas about good, evil and revenge. A hypnotizing story told from multiple perspectives and locales that builds to something inevitable and ultimately satisfying.
November 18, 2021
Canadian naiveté meets Nigerian artfulness in this tale about a real-world phenomenon known as the 419 scam that all of us who dabble in the internet are open to.
Laura, a nondescript editor (who later surprises us when she rises to Herculean heights) is tracing the last months of her father’s life after he succumbs to a plea for help from “the other side” that sucks his life savings, drives him to his death, and throws his widow out onto the street. On the other side, in Nigeria, we are introduced to three disparate characters: Winston, the scammer who uses internet cafes and a multiple of aliases to con gullible Westerners; Nnamdi, a fisherman thrown out of his livelihood by the indiscriminate drilling for oil in the Niger Delta, and Amina, a Muslim from the north, pregnant and running away to a new life in the oil rich and corrupt south. Ferguson skilfully weaves these disparate story threads to culminate in a thrilling and unexpected ending that is deserving of the novel’s Giller win.
The 419 scam itself is simple: pretend that someone wealthy in Nigeria is in trouble and wants to get their money out. The Westerner contacted, volunteers to park the money in his bank account, but then complications arise and a fee for this and a fee for that is required, all to be deducted from the millions that will be coming shortly to his account. The millions never arrive, and the Westerner has to finally mortgage everything to keep paying those final, but final, unexpected fees.
The revelation for me was that Nigerians see 419 as a payback for decades of colonial exploitation. Oil, kidnapping and scams drive the economy, and Nigeria is portrayed as a failed state. And yet peculiar codes of conduct prevail: “We who traffic in falsehoods must put a premium on the truth,” says the blood- coughing Eronsi-Egobia, the criminal mastermind who runs the scam artists. And when looked through the eyes of the characters, they seem to be doing no wrong; they are just trying to survive. This common desire for survival also binds them together in strangely distorted relationships.
Laura turns forensic detective and uses her editing skills to pore through the e-mail transmissions, looking for sentence patterns, misused words and misplaced punctuation to connect the scammer, the single author, to the multitude of documents received from various government authorities and lawyers that had validated the scam in the eyes of her father and sent him downhill. She is also plagued by guilt that her father was reacting to “the young Nigerian woman in trouble,” out of love for his own daughter. Laura’s guilt finally pushes her to travel to Nigeria to recover the lost money. Her adventures in Lagos however, are a bit hard to believe, but the behaviour of the surrounding cast help to suspend disbelief.
Books of this kind are important to raise awareness of the devils dressed in lambs clothing who are afoot in the world. But in the end, it is up to us to have our antennae up and look beyond the words on our screen to the possible motivations behind them. 419 will continue, as the author posits, morphing into different guises as we wise up to them.
Laura, a nondescript editor (who later surprises us when she rises to Herculean heights) is tracing the last months of her father’s life after he succumbs to a plea for help from “the other side” that sucks his life savings, drives him to his death, and throws his widow out onto the street. On the other side, in Nigeria, we are introduced to three disparate characters: Winston, the scammer who uses internet cafes and a multiple of aliases to con gullible Westerners; Nnamdi, a fisherman thrown out of his livelihood by the indiscriminate drilling for oil in the Niger Delta, and Amina, a Muslim from the north, pregnant and running away to a new life in the oil rich and corrupt south. Ferguson skilfully weaves these disparate story threads to culminate in a thrilling and unexpected ending that is deserving of the novel’s Giller win.
The 419 scam itself is simple: pretend that someone wealthy in Nigeria is in trouble and wants to get their money out. The Westerner contacted, volunteers to park the money in his bank account, but then complications arise and a fee for this and a fee for that is required, all to be deducted from the millions that will be coming shortly to his account. The millions never arrive, and the Westerner has to finally mortgage everything to keep paying those final, but final, unexpected fees.
The revelation for me was that Nigerians see 419 as a payback for decades of colonial exploitation. Oil, kidnapping and scams drive the economy, and Nigeria is portrayed as a failed state. And yet peculiar codes of conduct prevail: “We who traffic in falsehoods must put a premium on the truth,” says the blood- coughing Eronsi-Egobia, the criminal mastermind who runs the scam artists. And when looked through the eyes of the characters, they seem to be doing no wrong; they are just trying to survive. This common desire for survival also binds them together in strangely distorted relationships.
Laura turns forensic detective and uses her editing skills to pore through the e-mail transmissions, looking for sentence patterns, misused words and misplaced punctuation to connect the scammer, the single author, to the multitude of documents received from various government authorities and lawyers that had validated the scam in the eyes of her father and sent him downhill. She is also plagued by guilt that her father was reacting to “the young Nigerian woman in trouble,” out of love for his own daughter. Laura’s guilt finally pushes her to travel to Nigeria to recover the lost money. Her adventures in Lagos however, are a bit hard to believe, but the behaviour of the surrounding cast help to suspend disbelief.
Books of this kind are important to raise awareness of the devils dressed in lambs clothing who are afoot in the world. But in the end, it is up to us to have our antennae up and look beyond the words on our screen to the possible motivations behind them. 419 will continue, as the author posits, morphing into different guises as we wise up to them.
October 31, 2012
4.5 stars.
I enjoy a book which transports me to another place. Some authors set their stories in foreign countries but are unable to capture the sense of place, so the background doesn't ring true. Will Ferguson does a superior job in describing the sights and sounds of Lagos, from the well-to-do business areas and homes to the squalid and dangerous slums. I have never been to Lagos, but felt that I was there. I have been to the sahel and the picture of Amina, clad in her indigo robe, and covered with dust as she walks through the semi-desert is vivid in my mind.
419 refers to the section of the Nigerian criminal code which refers to obtaining goods of money by false pretenses.The book opens with a man driving off an icy road in western Canada.It is found to be a suicide, and he leaves behind a wife and two grown children. It is soon learned that he was the victim of a 419 scam and has lost the family's life savings and the house has been heavily re-mortgaged and will soon be taken by the bank. The daughter, Laura, finds much of her father's email from Nigeria, and papers where he has signed everything away naively thinking he was saving the life of a Nigerian girl and would make lots of money eventually. Laura is able to trace the person who committed the fraud by grammatical errors and unusual phrasing and heads off to Nigeria to confront the man responsible for the death of her father and try and get the money back.
Other major, and well developed characters are Winston, author of these emails under different names; Nnamdi, a young man from a fishing village where a big oil company has devastated the river and the environment, destroying the villagers' livelihood and health; Ironi Egobia is a frightening mob boss in Lagos. The least developed character is Amina, the girl crossing the sahel on foot. We know she is pregnant, but not sure if this is the reason she is fleeing her desert tribe. In her great fear she intends to get as far away from home as possible.
When all these separate stories converge, the conclusion is tragic and unforgettable. At first I was cheering for Laura, by herself in a place far from home. She was resourceful, brave and looking for revenge. She causes some cruel things to happen and shows little remorse,and I stopped admiring her.
Thought this was a great thriller, and learned a lot about the Nigerian email scams, and how the big Western oil companies are exploiting the land and its inhabitants.
I enjoy a book which transports me to another place. Some authors set their stories in foreign countries but are unable to capture the sense of place, so the background doesn't ring true. Will Ferguson does a superior job in describing the sights and sounds of Lagos, from the well-to-do business areas and homes to the squalid and dangerous slums. I have never been to Lagos, but felt that I was there. I have been to the sahel and the picture of Amina, clad in her indigo robe, and covered with dust as she walks through the semi-desert is vivid in my mind.
419 refers to the section of the Nigerian criminal code which refers to obtaining goods of money by false pretenses.The book opens with a man driving off an icy road in western Canada.It is found to be a suicide, and he leaves behind a wife and two grown children. It is soon learned that he was the victim of a 419 scam and has lost the family's life savings and the house has been heavily re-mortgaged and will soon be taken by the bank. The daughter, Laura, finds much of her father's email from Nigeria, and papers where he has signed everything away naively thinking he was saving the life of a Nigerian girl and would make lots of money eventually. Laura is able to trace the person who committed the fraud by grammatical errors and unusual phrasing and heads off to Nigeria to confront the man responsible for the death of her father and try and get the money back.
Other major, and well developed characters are Winston, author of these emails under different names; Nnamdi, a young man from a fishing village where a big oil company has devastated the river and the environment, destroying the villagers' livelihood and health; Ironi Egobia is a frightening mob boss in Lagos. The least developed character is Amina, the girl crossing the sahel on foot. We know she is pregnant, but not sure if this is the reason she is fleeing her desert tribe. In her great fear she intends to get as far away from home as possible.
When all these separate stories converge, the conclusion is tragic and unforgettable. At first I was cheering for Laura, by herself in a place far from home. She was resourceful, brave and looking for revenge. She causes some cruel things to happen and shows little remorse,and I stopped admiring her.
Thought this was a great thriller, and learned a lot about the Nigerian email scams, and how the big Western oil companies are exploiting the land and its inhabitants.
October 24, 2012
I'm at a loss in how to write a review for this book. I obviously didn't get whatever the author was driving at—something I find unsettling when the book is garnering critical acclaim. What is it that I'm missing?
It felt to me like the author was trying too hard to make a story that didn't really have the legs to make it. Nigerian e-mail scams have provided office jokes for years, so this attempt at a taut political thriller on the same topic seems a few years too late in the making. Moreover, the exposition on the scam seems contrived. It doesn't flow naturally, making it seem impersonal and emotionally removed.
Almost halfway through the book we are taken on a long side trip to the tribal areas of Nigeria, and this diversion absolutely sings. There is African mysticism and mythology abounding, and we are introduced to the ecological and economic devastation caused by oil exploration, not to mention the political destabilization caused by vigilante action and black market siphoning. This is what the book should have been about, in my opinion, and it's a shame that the author got so caught up in e-mail scams when there was so much other material to work with.
It felt to me like the author was trying too hard to make a story that didn't really have the legs to make it. Nigerian e-mail scams have provided office jokes for years, so this attempt at a taut political thriller on the same topic seems a few years too late in the making. Moreover, the exposition on the scam seems contrived. It doesn't flow naturally, making it seem impersonal and emotionally removed.
Almost halfway through the book we are taken on a long side trip to the tribal areas of Nigeria, and this diversion absolutely sings. There is African mysticism and mythology abounding, and we are introduced to the ecological and economic devastation caused by oil exploration, not to mention the political destabilization caused by vigilante action and black market siphoning. This is what the book should have been about, in my opinion, and it's a shame that the author got so caught up in e-mail scams when there was so much other material to work with.
September 9, 2016
Would you die for your child?
This is the only question a parent needs to answer; everything else flows from this. In the kiln-baked emptiness of thorn-bush deserts. In mangrove swamps and alpine woods. In city streets and snowfalls. It is the only question that needs answering.
The boy's father, knee deep in warm mud, was pulling hard on fishing nets that were splashing with life. Mist on greens waters. Sunlight on tidal pools.
Unbelievable but true: Just last night, my husband showed me an email on his Blackberry, saying, "I don't know what this is, but this guy just connected with me on Linkedin this week and…" Before he could even finish his introduction, I had scanned the email from a "Gabonese businessman" that mentioned "large sums of money" and "lost heirs". Dave wasn't impressed that I didn't closely read the email before handing his phone back with a smile, and he said, a little put out, "What?"
"Don't you know what that is?" I asked. "That's the Nigerian Prince scam, pretty much the original internet fraud. That guy sends out thousands of these emails, hoping that just 1% of the people who get it reply to him politely, and then he starts reeling them in, asking them to pay small filing fees to access their 'inheritance', and the next thing you know, you're sending more and more money and then he disappears. That's been around for years." Now, I had heard of this scam years ago, but I didn't mention that I happened to be reading a book on the topic at the moment -- that wouldn't have been much comfort to my husband as he scowled at his phone and stomped away.
The title of 419 refers to the article of the Nigerian criminal code that deals with fraud, and in particular these internet schemes that the country has become famous for. The book is set at either end of one such scheme: In Calgary at one end, with the grieving family of a retired schoolteacher who had lost everything and committed suicide a la Willy Loman; and in Nigeria at the other -- and as we learn, Nigeria is one of those countries that has been cobbled together through colonial expediency; with numerous unrelated tribes who have mutually incomprehensible languages and customs; with people and landscapes so foreign to each other that the word "Nigerian" seems almost meaningless -- you might as well say "African" and expect it to mean just one thing.
I found the Canadian sections of the book to be the weaker -- with flat characters that didn't much interest me -- but I did appreciate the importance of showing the scam's effects and understand that their narrative had to be carried forward so that there could be the ultimate confrontation. I wonder if this wouldn't have worked better if it had been from the actual victim's point of view (had he been kept alive) -- his motivations for getting involved and his slow realisation that he had been scammed would have been more interesting and urgent.
However, I loved everything in the Nigerian sections. Amina may have been the least developed, but her mysterious journey by foot out of the sandstorms of the Sahel was compelling and fascinating. Winston's story -- privileged and educated but unable to find lawful employment -- was a nice counterpoint to Ironsi-Egobia -- raised in an orphanage but ultimately to become a fearsome criminal boss. Yet the heart and soul of the story is Nnamdi -- his childhood in the Delta area was so beautifully described that it was heartbreaking when the oil companies moved in and destroyed his community's way of life. His journey from here had an inevitability to it -- as did the entire story: This is a slow motion car crash where the reader can understand why everyone acts the way they do, can see that there will be tragedy ahead, but it's unavoidable. The plot and pacing totally worked for me.
Will Ferguson won the Giller Prize for 419, and although I understand it's a departure from his usual award-winning humour writing, I'll be sure to look out for his other books; this one was a happy find.
October 27, 2020
Well done Will Ferguson! No wonder this was a Giller Prize winner!
This was a much anticipated read for me. It had been on my TBR for some time and finally it reached the top of my book club list.
It did not disappoint!
Clearly the author did some deep investigative research in order to make this story believable. Most people, I would guess, are aware of the email scams that originate in Nigeria and profess to request your assistance in saving some “prince” or “princess’s” fortune for which you will receive a tidy sum of a reward. This type of fraud is dealt with in section 419 of the Nigerian Criminal Code, and hence the book title.
This is the manner in which the story begins, the email received by a retired teacher in Calgary, asking to help the daughter of a diplomat, but it takes a turn. There are two other stories being told as well, both taking place in Nigeria. One is the “scammer’s” story and the other is a bit of a mystery for some time.
The author weaves each story with detailed complexity, seldom crossing each other’s paths, but certainly engaging others along the way to join in the parade, somewhat like a Pied Piper! The stories continue in a parallel fashion, each becoming more intriguing and without an obvious conclusion, and although you anticipate numerous different endings, none of those ever materialize.
This is really a well written contemporary adventure through cyberspace and on the ground in Nigeria. The descriptions place you directly in the various locations, and the venture into the minds of the characters let you feel their fear and anxiety.
The international intrigue of the crime and corruption in Nigeria is somewhat spell-binding, as the parallel anxieties of the characters intersect via fear of retribution and hope of recovery. While I was expecting the story to be told from the western side of the world, it is really explained from the African culture and subculture of international cybercrime. I found it to be most interesting and thought provoking, to be viewing the “scam” from its many facets, many victims, and yet to be portrayed as a means of survival for so many players, albeit a chosen means of survival, not that it was an only means.
This story has provided me an entirely new perspective on these type of events. A perspective I had not even considered. It doesn’t make these scams any less criminal, nor the perpetrators any less despicable, but it does make you view other parts of the world through a new lens. Perhaps people are more alike than they are different.
The game of survival takes many routes, many forms, involves many personalities, many risks, and in many ways parallels life.
A very provocative read!
This was a much anticipated read for me. It had been on my TBR for some time and finally it reached the top of my book club list.
It did not disappoint!
Clearly the author did some deep investigative research in order to make this story believable. Most people, I would guess, are aware of the email scams that originate in Nigeria and profess to request your assistance in saving some “prince” or “princess’s” fortune for which you will receive a tidy sum of a reward. This type of fraud is dealt with in section 419 of the Nigerian Criminal Code, and hence the book title.
This is the manner in which the story begins, the email received by a retired teacher in Calgary, asking to help the daughter of a diplomat, but it takes a turn. There are two other stories being told as well, both taking place in Nigeria. One is the “scammer’s” story and the other is a bit of a mystery for some time.
The author weaves each story with detailed complexity, seldom crossing each other’s paths, but certainly engaging others along the way to join in the parade, somewhat like a Pied Piper! The stories continue in a parallel fashion, each becoming more intriguing and without an obvious conclusion, and although you anticipate numerous different endings, none of those ever materialize.
This is really a well written contemporary adventure through cyberspace and on the ground in Nigeria. The descriptions place you directly in the various locations, and the venture into the minds of the characters let you feel their fear and anxiety.
The international intrigue of the crime and corruption in Nigeria is somewhat spell-binding, as the parallel anxieties of the characters intersect via fear of retribution and hope of recovery. While I was expecting the story to be told from the western side of the world, it is really explained from the African culture and subculture of international cybercrime. I found it to be most interesting and thought provoking, to be viewing the “scam” from its many facets, many victims, and yet to be portrayed as a means of survival for so many players, albeit a chosen means of survival, not that it was an only means.
This story has provided me an entirely new perspective on these type of events. A perspective I had not even considered. It doesn’t make these scams any less criminal, nor the perpetrators any less despicable, but it does make you view other parts of the world through a new lens. Perhaps people are more alike than they are different.
The game of survival takes many routes, many forms, involves many personalities, many risks, and in many ways parallels life.
A very provocative read!
June 12, 2017
You can definitely tell that Will Ferguson has written travel books—the scenes in this book which are set in Nigeria are the most vivid and colourful sections of 419. By contrast, the Canadian parts are rather bland and cold, but perhaps he meant to have it that way.
It’s always interesting to see your own city portrayed in fiction and not only did the Canadian family live in Calgary, Laura lives in my neighbourhood. I recognized both the building that she lives in and the mall where she seems to do most of her eating. It’s not a fine dining establishment, but once again, perhaps that was the point. Laura has some “arrangement” which allows her to live in a condo tower that I couldn’t ever aspire to afford. These are Canadians who are getting by. By African standards, they are rich, but by North American standards they are just treading water. On my only trip to Africa in 2000, I visited Kenya—there are dozens of vendors at every toilet stop, aggressively selling their wares. As a not-very-well-travelled Canadian (at that point in time), I had difficulties, as I was on a budget and I am not by nature a bargainer. At least one woman told me, “You are rich, buy something from me!” I didn’t bother to argue with her—compared to her, I was rich, although I had used every spare dollar I had to make that trip.
One of my friends, the child of a diplomat, lived in Nigeria for a time. She claimed that it was every bit as awful as it is portrayed in the book—violence is rampant, environmental issues overwhelming, poverty is everywhere and politicans are corrupt. And yet, there are relatively decent people who live there and just want to survive and raise their children safely, just as Nnamdi does.
The enduring message that I came away with: there are people of all kinds in every society. Some are exploiters and some are exploited. And the world would be a better place if we could eliminate these exploitative relationships.
It’s always interesting to see your own city portrayed in fiction and not only did the Canadian family live in Calgary, Laura lives in my neighbourhood. I recognized both the building that she lives in and the mall where she seems to do most of her eating. It’s not a fine dining establishment, but once again, perhaps that was the point. Laura has some “arrangement” which allows her to live in a condo tower that I couldn’t ever aspire to afford. These are Canadians who are getting by. By African standards, they are rich, but by North American standards they are just treading water. On my only trip to Africa in 2000, I visited Kenya—there are dozens of vendors at every toilet stop, aggressively selling their wares. As a not-very-well-travelled Canadian (at that point in time), I had difficulties, as I was on a budget and I am not by nature a bargainer. At least one woman told me, “You are rich, buy something from me!” I didn’t bother to argue with her—compared to her, I was rich, although I had used every spare dollar I had to make that trip.
One of my friends, the child of a diplomat, lived in Nigeria for a time. She claimed that it was every bit as awful as it is portrayed in the book—violence is rampant, environmental issues overwhelming, poverty is everywhere and politicans are corrupt. And yet, there are relatively decent people who live there and just want to survive and raise their children safely, just as Nnamdi does.
The enduring message that I came away with: there are people of all kinds in every society. Some are exploiters and some are exploited. And the world would be a better place if we could eliminate these exploitative relationships.
November 3, 2017
419 is very interesting. I knew almost nothing about Nigeria going into it and now I feel some real sympathy for their people and plight. I'm always in awe with books that can take me to real life locations and make me feel like I've been there or have a new understanding of that place.
A section of the story takes place in my home city of Calgary (Canada). It's a bit odd to read about landmarks and roads I know so well (author Will Ferguson lives here himself) but also a little exciting. Right up until an apartment building could be seen from a road that is too far away (lol). I get it, fictional license and all but it was a bit odd to me because I do know the city so well.
I'd highly recommend 419 for book clubs as it is sure to generate a lot of conversation. The basic story is a struggle between what we all feel we need to do to survive and what we are willing to do within our own moral compass. It's often surprising what lengths humans will go to protect themselves and others. I don't want to say too much else as I think the intricacies of the setting, plot and characters are all best discovered as you read 419.
My four stars is merely because I wasn't dying to read the last 1/3 of the book. I'm very glad I did but it lost something at some point. I believe is was when we spent a large chunk of time with the same characters; instead of the back and forth that happens in the rest of the novel between locations and characters. Or perhaps I was just too concerned that one of our focal characters was not going to make it very far. There are some intense moments that really brought home to me how lucky I am to live where I do.
Overall I think that this is an interesting book, it shares stories from a part of the world many are not very familiar with and it reveals more details about the "Nigerian Prince" email scams than most of us are likely to know. Ferguson does a good job of making you like characters that are morally ambiguous and a good job of telling the stories that are seemingly unrelated to start with. I will guarantee that it all ties together and the end felt perfect to me. Not necessarily happy or sad; just realistic.
I am definitely going to pick-up more by Ferguson. Not only because he's local to me and meets my Canadian author criteria; but because I did really enjoy the set up and loved the end of 419.
A section of the story takes place in my home city of Calgary (Canada). It's a bit odd to read about landmarks and roads I know so well (author Will Ferguson lives here himself) but also a little exciting. Right up until an apartment building could be seen from a road that is too far away (lol). I get it, fictional license and all but it was a bit odd to me because I do know the city so well.
I'd highly recommend 419 for book clubs as it is sure to generate a lot of conversation. The basic story is a struggle between what we all feel we need to do to survive and what we are willing to do within our own moral compass. It's often surprising what lengths humans will go to protect themselves and others. I don't want to say too much else as I think the intricacies of the setting, plot and characters are all best discovered as you read 419.
My four stars is merely because I wasn't dying to read the last 1/3 of the book. I'm very glad I did but it lost something at some point. I believe is was when we spent a large chunk of time with the same characters; instead of the back and forth that happens in the rest of the novel between locations and characters. Or perhaps I was just too concerned that one of our focal characters was not going to make it very far. There are some intense moments that really brought home to me how lucky I am to live where I do.
Overall I think that this is an interesting book, it shares stories from a part of the world many are not very familiar with and it reveals more details about the "Nigerian Prince" email scams than most of us are likely to know. Ferguson does a good job of making you like characters that are morally ambiguous and a good job of telling the stories that are seemingly unrelated to start with. I will guarantee that it all ties together and the end felt perfect to me. Not necessarily happy or sad; just realistic.
I am definitely going to pick-up more by Ferguson. Not only because he's local to me and meets my Canadian author criteria; but because I did really enjoy the set up and loved the end of 419.
January 10, 2013
This book has too many disjointed threads to keep my interest. There are four distinct stories and only two of them are remotely connected. The other two are completely separate and their relevance to the story eludes me. The incessant and unexplained wandering of the starving pregnant woman was irritating in the thread's randomness.The transitions were abrupt and unpolished. I did not finish this book for these reasons. Ferguson's description of the 419 scam is creatively and articulately described. The reader is exposed to the skill and cruelty employed by the scam artist. But essentially, Will Ferguson is a travel writer and It seemed that he was unable to focus on a theme but was distracted by other facets of place and time. I am surprised this work garnered the Giller Prize this year as one of the most fundamental rules, that of maintaining the story line, was broken. Perhaps it all came together in the end, but if so, I wasn't there to see it. I got bored and went home.
July 5, 2020
excellent read....scary what can happen what people can get caught up in....sad
February 12, 2013
In present day Alberta, a car plummets over the edge of a ravine, killing the elderly driver. There are two sets of tyre marks on the road above, and at first the police suspect the dead man was being chased. But the marks belong to the same car: it had taken him two tries to get the angle right to miss the guard rails in order to drive off the road.
His family never suspected a thing. Never realised how troubled the retired high school teacher was, never realised he had sent all his and his wife's money to someone in Nigeria, even taking out a second mortgage against the house already long paid for, and is well over a hundred thousand dollars in debt. Never realised that he felt like he was being watched, that he was being threatened, that he had increased his life insurance policy before killing himself, putting his daughter Laura down as the sole beneficiary.
But the police discover it all, and ask the family: Do you know anyone from Nigeria? Have you ever heard of 419?
Laura takes her father's death particularly hard. A reclusive copy editor who works from home, she is distracted by all the grammatical and spelling errors in the emails her father received, until she notices that there is a pattern - like the authors she edits, the writers of the emails have a style, and it might be possible to find the person behind her father's death through the way they write. It's not about the money, she tells herself: it's about losing her father, a man who had been trying to reach out to her but to whom she had not given her time. A man she misses deeply.
In Nigeria, a lone woman walks through the desert with a jerry can of water balanced on her head. Pregnant, she has long ago traded her jewellery for food and is reduced to scavenging at campsites and chewing on nuts. Finally reaching the city of Zaria, the furthest she's ever been in her life. But even here, there are people who recognise the ritual tribal scars on her face that can tell a person exactly which village she is from; even Zaria is not far enough away. And she she keeps walking, heading to the next city.
And in the west, in the Niger Delta, European oil companies strike deals with the government to drill for oil, destroying the mangrove swamps, poisoning the water, killing the fish that are the livelihood of the Igbo people who live there. Nnamdi is a boy when the Dutch first come and a teenager when they give him, and many other boys, jobs in an attempt to pacify the tribe and give them a vested interest in protecting the pipelines that snake through their land. What Nnamdi learns on the refinery island will save his life several times, and take him far from home.
All three - Laura, the unnamed woman, and Nnamdi - are on a trajectory that will bring them together in unexpected ways.
This is an epic story and demonstrates Ferguson's ability to weave seemingly disparate plot lines and characters together. It also shows the impressive depth of his research, which I had noticed from reading his earlier novel, Spanish Fly . In the latter book - about three con artists during the Depression in the United States - you could tell that Ferguson's research and fascination with the cons was stronger than his storytelling, and his characters suffered for it. With 419, though, there was a much better balance between the scope of his research - which is truly extensive - and the storytelling. As a story, I really enjoyed this. As insight into life in Nigeria and the situation between the locals and the oil companies, it's enlightening and terrifying and disheartening. Where it falters a bit is with Laura and her side of the story, especially towards the end. I would say that Ferguson wrote the Nigerian side of the story, and the Nigerian characters, more believable, honest and human than he did Laura. Which is curious, when you think about it.
It begins in an unnamed city in Canada which I figure is either Calgary or some more northern city - the Rockies are mentioned, and Laura absently tracks the ups and downs of the oil industry by watching the cranes move on the horizon: when they're still, it's a bad day. (Alberta is home to the infamous Tar Sands.) I'm always curious about why authors decide to leave a city unnamed like that. The bulk of the novel is set in Nigeria and covers pretty much the entire country - it was easy enough to picture the individual settings and get an idea of how close they are, as well as the very diverse landscape, based on how things are described, but I would still have loved a map. I love maps, and I find them useful in creating a more three-dimensional picture in my imagination.
If you're unfamiliar with what "419" is, it is an email scam that nets millions of dollars for Nigeria and is one of their biggest industries, after oil. It begins with an email, and it's a fair bet that by now, anyone who has at least one email address would have received at least one of these messages. I hadn't had one in a really long time - well I get spam mail on gmail (never Hotmail) but I never open them; most of those are about winning lots of pounds from Britain for something-or-other (or messages from Canadian banks telling me there's a problem with my account - right, and I don't even have accounts with those banks!). Incidentally, we also get one via phone here, someone Indian asking us about the Microsoft bug reported on our computer - a-ha, yeah, nice try. You ask yourself, how can these possibly work? They're so blatantly obvious, so incredibly stupid. But they do. Not with you or me, but with other people. In the case of Ferguson's novel, the 419 scam that lured in Laura's dad - a lovely, kind-hearted man whose two children didn't have much time to give him anymore - it was a plea for his help in aiding a young woman. And of course, the sender had done their research, having found out lots of information about him via the woodworking forum he frequented, which enabled the sender to make his message personal, intimate even - clearly, they had the right person.
Ironically, the day I wrote this review I received a private message through Goodreads - the user was deleted before I could report it so they're very quick on catching them, but just goes to show that they really do find people everywhere, on forums etc. I thought, before I deleted it, I'd include it here as a sample message, very typical of 419:
I honestly couldn't have made that up (to say the least, I'm incapable of writing something with that many errors!), but it's interesting to note it's talking about Ghana - 419 seems to have spread. The messages are always like that: help us liquidate someone's money before the government seizes it, all you have to do is hold it in your account, and you'll get a commission. But there is no money, and that's not how it works. In Nigeria, it's a huge underground business, employing thousands. As one of the RCMP officers explains to Laura and her family, it's named after "the section in the Nigerian Criminal Code that deals with obtaining money or goods under false pretenses." [p.111] I did notice, though, that this one wasn't half as well-targeted as the one that nets Laura's dad. It doesn't even use my name!
In the story, Laura's blustering older brother Warren is the character created as a foil, the person added to the story to show just how easily people can fall for things. In fact, the whole conversation with the RCMP when they're shown the emails, the forged documents, and had it all explained to them, is pure exposition.
Learning about 419 and its effect on the victims - whom the Nigerians see as merely greedy and so not people to feel sorry for - was naturally fascinating. As was learning about the state of Nigeria's oil industry, which is plain frightening. I read this book for a book club and one of the other readers brought along a slideshow of images from the Niger Delta, of the water slick with spilled oil, the natural gas flares, burning off the gas that would normally be collected. As Ferguson describes in the novel, these fires create acid rain and the people's skin burns. Their food source is gone, and they have resorted to sabotage and guerilla warfare: opening up the pipes to siphon off the oil to sell on the black market; kidnapping foreign (white) workers and holding them to ransom; terrorising their own people on the rivers and in villages. When their own people aren't attacking them, the government sends in soldiers to kill them, burn their villages, take anything left. It's amazing the Igbo have survived at all.
Nnamdi's people, the Ijaw, was the tribe who used to capture people from other tribes, take them to the coast and sell them to the white slavers. So in Nigeria, they're not particularly well-loved, and the government views their protests against the oil industry as a kind of anti-Nigerian act of terrorism. Reading Nnamdi's story, it pretty much breaks your heart, watching along with him as the precious mangrove swamps - mangroves being one of those instrumental vegetation needed to filter CO2 from the air - are annihilated, the water poisoned, the fish and animals obliterated. So much waste - it's unbelievable. Anywhere else, the industry is fairly well regulated, but in Nigeria, either no one cares or it's simply too dangerous - the locals have made sure that any attempts to repair pipelines, for instance, are a death mission.
That's another aspect touched upon in 419: colonialism and inter-tribal conflict. There are running jokes about the different tribes, of which there are many, who, like everywhere in Africa, now find themselves lumped together in one country thanks to the borders drawn by European colonists.
The unnamed woman from the Sahel, who calls herself Amina, is decidedly foreign, alien, yet sympathetic - especially woman-to-woman. We never learn the real reason why she's fleeing her tribal land, her village, her people - the way she talks about them gives me the idea she still has pride in who she is and where she's from, but something happened to drive her out, most likely linked to her pregnancy. I found that not knowing increased the mystery of her, and kept you wary, but also made you proud of her too. In the end, it didn't matter that we don't learn the truth, it becomes irrelevant. Nnamdi is a hugely likeable character. Unlike many others that fill the background of the story, he is loyal, trustworthy, respectful, intelligent and full of life and even laughter. He is only about eighteen years old, and the fact that he was the most sympathetic character of all of them makes his story the hardest to read about.
The weak link is Laura, though part of this is deliberate on Ferguson's part and the rest is a let-down in what was strong storytelling up to the end. Laura comes from a different world, and when she arrives in Nigeria she represents the quintessential white colonist, caught up in her own objective, her own wishes, with zero empathy or any wish to understand the people she encounters. She blunders in in typical white-foreigner fashion, making things so much worse, and effectively kills one character. While I could see her side of it and understand her actions, because I had got to know the other characters and their world a bit, I found her abhorrent and unsympathetic. It just goes to show what knowledge and education can do to your perspective, in opening your mind. The question then becomes, Just who is the real victim? There are many ways to be a victim, and it's never black-and-white like you wish it was, like Laura makes it out to be.
The trouble is that Laura's not a very convincing character. Interestingly enough, Ferguson did a much better job at capturing the Nigerians, than he did his own countrywoman. It's hard to really understand her, because she's so withdrawn and lives like a hermit. I would have respected her but that, after making her point, she then demands the money - when all this time she's claimed it wasn't about the money. I don't know whether to think that in the heat of the moment, she lashed out to hurt more deeply, or whether, deep down, it really is about the money, always. Food for thought.
The novel is full of parallels, between the oil pumping like hot blood through the Niger Delta contrasted with the wealth of industry and progress in Laura's city, to the parallel between the description of a man having a tyre put around his chest and arms, doused in petrol and set alight, to the detective investigating a scene near Laura's apartment building in which a homeless man has been set alight: these juxtapositions show both the interconnectedness of the world (the fact that what's happening in one country - that we all like to frown upon - often benefits our own - like China's emissions, largely created by the demand for cheap products consumed by us), as well as showing that the cruelty seen in one country, like Nigeria, is not confined to it - that we can be cruel and violent and heartless, too. A lot of the time, these parallels were a bit obvious, a bit heavy-handed, but I still appreciated their presence.
As a story, 419 is an impressive work, richly layered, complex, nuances and empathetic, fleshing out a country that's easy to demonise and isolate as its own downfall. As the winner of Canada's most prestigious literary award, I'm not so sure. This is solid fiction, but not what I would expect of the Giller Prize. It has some absolutely lovely prose, some beautiful - if harrowing - descriptions, and speaks to the condition of humanity and the human heart with touching honesty and wry humour. It is a story I definitely recommend, one that shows great sensitivity towards another culture and people and tells their story with much respect. It was a better story, overall, than Spanish Fly. But I don't think I would have picked it for a Giller winner.
His family never suspected a thing. Never realised how troubled the retired high school teacher was, never realised he had sent all his and his wife's money to someone in Nigeria, even taking out a second mortgage against the house already long paid for, and is well over a hundred thousand dollars in debt. Never realised that he felt like he was being watched, that he was being threatened, that he had increased his life insurance policy before killing himself, putting his daughter Laura down as the sole beneficiary.
But the police discover it all, and ask the family: Do you know anyone from Nigeria? Have you ever heard of 419?
Laura takes her father's death particularly hard. A reclusive copy editor who works from home, she is distracted by all the grammatical and spelling errors in the emails her father received, until she notices that there is a pattern - like the authors she edits, the writers of the emails have a style, and it might be possible to find the person behind her father's death through the way they write. It's not about the money, she tells herself: it's about losing her father, a man who had been trying to reach out to her but to whom she had not given her time. A man she misses deeply.
In Nigeria, a lone woman walks through the desert with a jerry can of water balanced on her head. Pregnant, she has long ago traded her jewellery for food and is reduced to scavenging at campsites and chewing on nuts. Finally reaching the city of Zaria, the furthest she's ever been in her life. But even here, there are people who recognise the ritual tribal scars on her face that can tell a person exactly which village she is from; even Zaria is not far enough away. And she she keeps walking, heading to the next city.
And in the west, in the Niger Delta, European oil companies strike deals with the government to drill for oil, destroying the mangrove swamps, poisoning the water, killing the fish that are the livelihood of the Igbo people who live there. Nnamdi is a boy when the Dutch first come and a teenager when they give him, and many other boys, jobs in an attempt to pacify the tribe and give them a vested interest in protecting the pipelines that snake through their land. What Nnamdi learns on the refinery island will save his life several times, and take him far from home.
All three - Laura, the unnamed woman, and Nnamdi - are on a trajectory that will bring them together in unexpected ways.
This is an epic story and demonstrates Ferguson's ability to weave seemingly disparate plot lines and characters together. It also shows the impressive depth of his research, which I had noticed from reading his earlier novel, Spanish Fly . In the latter book - about three con artists during the Depression in the United States - you could tell that Ferguson's research and fascination with the cons was stronger than his storytelling, and his characters suffered for it. With 419, though, there was a much better balance between the scope of his research - which is truly extensive - and the storytelling. As a story, I really enjoyed this. As insight into life in Nigeria and the situation between the locals and the oil companies, it's enlightening and terrifying and disheartening. Where it falters a bit is with Laura and her side of the story, especially towards the end. I would say that Ferguson wrote the Nigerian side of the story, and the Nigerian characters, more believable, honest and human than he did Laura. Which is curious, when you think about it.
It begins in an unnamed city in Canada which I figure is either Calgary or some more northern city - the Rockies are mentioned, and Laura absently tracks the ups and downs of the oil industry by watching the cranes move on the horizon: when they're still, it's a bad day. (Alberta is home to the infamous Tar Sands.) I'm always curious about why authors decide to leave a city unnamed like that. The bulk of the novel is set in Nigeria and covers pretty much the entire country - it was easy enough to picture the individual settings and get an idea of how close they are, as well as the very diverse landscape, based on how things are described, but I would still have loved a map. I love maps, and I find them useful in creating a more three-dimensional picture in my imagination.
If you're unfamiliar with what "419" is, it is an email scam that nets millions of dollars for Nigeria and is one of their biggest industries, after oil. It begins with an email, and it's a fair bet that by now, anyone who has at least one email address would have received at least one of these messages. I hadn't had one in a really long time - well I get spam mail on gmail (never Hotmail) but I never open them; most of those are about winning lots of pounds from Britain for something-or-other (or messages from Canadian banks telling me there's a problem with my account - right, and I don't even have accounts with those banks!). Incidentally, we also get one via phone here, someone Indian asking us about the Microsoft bug reported on our computer - a-ha, yeah, nice try. You ask yourself, how can these possibly work? They're so blatantly obvious, so incredibly stupid. But they do. Not with you or me, but with other people. In the case of Ferguson's novel, the 419 scam that lured in Laura's dad - a lovely, kind-hearted man whose two children didn't have much time to give him anymore - it was a plea for his help in aiding a young woman. And of course, the sender had done their research, having found out lots of information about him via the woodworking forum he frequented, which enabled the sender to make his message personal, intimate even - clearly, they had the right person.
Ironically, the day I wrote this review I received a private message through Goodreads - the user was deleted before I could report it so they're very quick on catching them, but just goes to show that they really do find people everywhere, on forums etc. I thought, before I deleted it, I'd include it here as a sample message, very typical of 419:
Hello ,
I am Barr. Richard Spencer residing in Accra-Ghana,a personal attorney to late Mr.Robert ,a nationality of your country who died in tragic motor accident by running into a stationery Trailer without warning sign on December 26 , 2006.
I have contacted you to assist in repatriating his fund valued at USD$45,200,000.00 left behind by my late client before it gets confiscated or declared unserviceable by the Security Finance Firm where this huge amount were deposited.
Reply to my private email address for more details: richrdspencer1790@gmail.com
Regards,
Barr.Richard Spencer.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Please I will advise you to create a new email address at YAHOO,HOTMAIL OR GMAIL and contact me back because this site is rejecting the the full details of what I wanted to send you.
I honestly couldn't have made that up (to say the least, I'm incapable of writing something with that many errors!), but it's interesting to note it's talking about Ghana - 419 seems to have spread. The messages are always like that: help us liquidate someone's money before the government seizes it, all you have to do is hold it in your account, and you'll get a commission. But there is no money, and that's not how it works. In Nigeria, it's a huge underground business, employing thousands. As one of the RCMP officers explains to Laura and her family, it's named after "the section in the Nigerian Criminal Code that deals with obtaining money or goods under false pretenses." [p.111] I did notice, though, that this one wasn't half as well-targeted as the one that nets Laura's dad. It doesn't even use my name!
In the story, Laura's blustering older brother Warren is the character created as a foil, the person added to the story to show just how easily people can fall for things. In fact, the whole conversation with the RCMP when they're shown the emails, the forged documents, and had it all explained to them, is pure exposition.
"Your father signed a document granting power of attorney to the law office of Bello & Usman in Lagos."
"So why aren't you contacting them?" asked Warren.
"Because they don't exist," said Laura. "Jesus Christ, Warren, what part of this don't you understand?"
"Language," said their mother, roused from her indifference.
"What if someone took them up on their offer?" Laura asked. "Flew to Lagos and confronted them face to face?"
Detective Saul looked at her. "People have tried that. They've gone over there and started poking about in the city's underbelly.
"And?"
"Like I said, they usually end up floating in Lagos Lagoon."
"But what if - what if you made them come to you, pretended to be an investor, say? Turned the tables."
"That's a dangerous game. You'd be on their turf."
"But couldn't you meet them on neutral ground? An embassy or something."
"Odds are, even if you made it out alive, you wouldn't get your money back," said Rhodes.
"What if," Laura said, "it wasn't about the money?" [p.139]
Learning about 419 and its effect on the victims - whom the Nigerians see as merely greedy and so not people to feel sorry for - was naturally fascinating. As was learning about the state of Nigeria's oil industry, which is plain frightening. I read this book for a book club and one of the other readers brought along a slideshow of images from the Niger Delta, of the water slick with spilled oil, the natural gas flares, burning off the gas that would normally be collected. As Ferguson describes in the novel, these fires create acid rain and the people's skin burns. Their food source is gone, and they have resorted to sabotage and guerilla warfare: opening up the pipes to siphon off the oil to sell on the black market; kidnapping foreign (white) workers and holding them to ransom; terrorising their own people on the rivers and in villages. When their own people aren't attacking them, the government sends in soldiers to kill them, burn their villages, take anything left. It's amazing the Igbo have survived at all.
One of the boys was wavering on his feet. His eyes were milky and unfocused. It reminded Nnamdi of the glassy gaze of the Egbesu boys, but without the bravado or the gin.
"The hardest part is protecting your line from other boys. We have to stand guard twenty-four hours. Take turns, work it in shifts. But dey fumes is always leaking, from the hose or from the valve. So you inhale a lot of it. Gives you headaches."
Nnamdi looked at his sickly friends, grown wan and thin. "You have to stop," he said. "The gas will make you ill. It will poison you."
"It already has, Nnamdi." And then, in Ijaw: "It was our bad fortune, wasn't it, Nnamdi? To sit on top of wealth that others wanted. Why do you think the gods punished us like that? Cursed us with oil. Why?"
"I don't know."
"Do you suppose the oil is tainted by the souls of the Igbo and others that we captured? Do you suppose it's the blood of those, come back to haunt us?"
"If that was the case, my friend, the oil would make the oyibos [white men] ill as well."
"I think it has, Nnamdi." [pp.289-290]
Nnamdi's people, the Ijaw, was the tribe who used to capture people from other tribes, take them to the coast and sell them to the white slavers. So in Nigeria, they're not particularly well-loved, and the government views their protests against the oil industry as a kind of anti-Nigerian act of terrorism. Reading Nnamdi's story, it pretty much breaks your heart, watching along with him as the precious mangrove swamps - mangroves being one of those instrumental vegetation needed to filter CO2 from the air - are annihilated, the water poisoned, the fish and animals obliterated. So much waste - it's unbelievable. Anywhere else, the industry is fairly well regulated, but in Nigeria, either no one cares or it's simply too dangerous - the locals have made sure that any attempts to repair pipelines, for instance, are a death mission.
That's another aspect touched upon in 419: colonialism and inter-tribal conflict. There are running jokes about the different tribes, of which there are many, who, like everywhere in Africa, now find themselves lumped together in one country thanks to the borders drawn by European colonists.
What was Nigeria?
It was a net, loosely thrown, a name on a map, one created by the British to paper over the gaping cracks in the joinery. A conjurer's trick, where the many became one, a sleight of hand, like the tired magic of old men making coins disappear. "There is no Nigeria." This was the lesson [Amina's] uncle had wished to impart. "There is Fulani and Hausa, Igbo and Tiv, Efik and Kanuri, Gwari and Yoruba. But Nigeria? That is on the pail we carry these in."
But she knew better.
She knew that the naming of a place helped bring it into existence. The naming of a location - or a person, a child - was a way of claiming them. Until you named something, it wasn't fully real. The trick to staying invisible, then, was to remain nameless. Without a name, you couldn't be pinned in place, couldn't be cornered or captured. [p.82]
The unnamed woman from the Sahel, who calls herself Amina, is decidedly foreign, alien, yet sympathetic - especially woman-to-woman. We never learn the real reason why she's fleeing her tribal land, her village, her people - the way she talks about them gives me the idea she still has pride in who she is and where she's from, but something happened to drive her out, most likely linked to her pregnancy. I found that not knowing increased the mystery of her, and kept you wary, but also made you proud of her too. In the end, it didn't matter that we don't learn the truth, it becomes irrelevant. Nnamdi is a hugely likeable character. Unlike many others that fill the background of the story, he is loyal, trustworthy, respectful, intelligent and full of life and even laughter. He is only about eighteen years old, and the fact that he was the most sympathetic character of all of them makes his story the hardest to read about.
The weak link is Laura, though part of this is deliberate on Ferguson's part and the rest is a let-down in what was strong storytelling up to the end. Laura comes from a different world, and when she arrives in Nigeria she represents the quintessential white colonist, caught up in her own objective, her own wishes, with zero empathy or any wish to understand the people she encounters. She blunders in in typical white-foreigner fashion, making things so much worse, and effectively kills one character. While I could see her side of it and understand her actions, because I had got to know the other characters and their world a bit, I found her abhorrent and unsympathetic. It just goes to show what knowledge and education can do to your perspective, in opening your mind. The question then becomes, Just who is the real victim? There are many ways to be a victim, and it's never black-and-white like you wish it was, like Laura makes it out to be.
The trouble is that Laura's not a very convincing character. Interestingly enough, Ferguson did a much better job at capturing the Nigerians, than he did his own countrywoman. It's hard to really understand her, because she's so withdrawn and lives like a hermit. I would have respected her but that, after making her point, she then demands the money - when all this time she's claimed it wasn't about the money. I don't know whether to think that in the heat of the moment, she lashed out to hurt more deeply, or whether, deep down, it really is about the money, always. Food for thought.
The novel is full of parallels, between the oil pumping like hot blood through the Niger Delta contrasted with the wealth of industry and progress in Laura's city, to the parallel between the description of a man having a tyre put around his chest and arms, doused in petrol and set alight, to the detective investigating a scene near Laura's apartment building in which a homeless man has been set alight: these juxtapositions show both the interconnectedness of the world (the fact that what's happening in one country - that we all like to frown upon - often benefits our own - like China's emissions, largely created by the demand for cheap products consumed by us), as well as showing that the cruelty seen in one country, like Nigeria, is not confined to it - that we can be cruel and violent and heartless, too. A lot of the time, these parallels were a bit obvious, a bit heavy-handed, but I still appreciated their presence.
As a story, 419 is an impressive work, richly layered, complex, nuances and empathetic, fleshing out a country that's easy to demonise and isolate as its own downfall. As the winner of Canada's most prestigious literary award, I'm not so sure. This is solid fiction, but not what I would expect of the Giller Prize. It has some absolutely lovely prose, some beautiful - if harrowing - descriptions, and speaks to the condition of humanity and the human heart with touching honesty and wry humour. It is a story I definitely recommend, one that shows great sensitivity towards another culture and people and tells their story with much respect. It was a better story, overall, than Spanish Fly. But I don't think I would have picked it for a Giller winner.
October 24, 2012
I learned a lot of things about the Nigerian email scams that have plagued and plugged our email boxes. I once actually even finished reading an entire entreaty, shaking my head in disbelief that a) someone could actually write such a thing and think that someone would fall for it, and b) that some people actually do fall for it. But I never knew anything about that world, and this book sure opened my eyes to that world of conniving thievery.
By far the most interesting parts of the book are those set in Nigeria -- it was fascinating to read about the devastating effects on society of the oil industry, and of the webs of intrigue involved in the email scamming industry, and even of the scam-the-scammers roles. Just as the NIgerian story lines about Winston and Nnamdi would get perking along nicely, the story would switch disappointingly back to the Canadian lines. There were multiple, too many, frayed threads that were woven clumsily together. The Nigerian sideplot with Amina -- what was that for? It was boring and didn't fit and seemed irrelevant and contrived. And what was up with the longing eyes of the detective, staring at the apt building of Laura? The characters were poorly developed and unconvincing.
There was far too much journalistic digression about the mechanics and explanations of the 419 scams; a little would be good, but this was too much. It felt lecturing and preachy.
No, there were just too many confused storylines which synergistically weakened the whole thing.
Some sharp editing could have pared this down in half and resulted in a taut twisty thriller. Makes me wonder again: why don't editors' names ever appear in books?
By far the most interesting parts of the book are those set in Nigeria -- it was fascinating to read about the devastating effects on society of the oil industry, and of the webs of intrigue involved in the email scamming industry, and even of the scam-the-scammers roles. Just as the NIgerian story lines about Winston and Nnamdi would get perking along nicely, the story would switch disappointingly back to the Canadian lines. There were multiple, too many, frayed threads that were woven clumsily together. The Nigerian sideplot with Amina -- what was that for? It was boring and didn't fit and seemed irrelevant and contrived. And what was up with the longing eyes of the detective, staring at the apt building of Laura? The characters were poorly developed and unconvincing.
There was far too much journalistic digression about the mechanics and explanations of the 419 scams; a little would be good, but this was too much. It felt lecturing and preachy.
No, there were just too many confused storylines which synergistically weakened the whole thing.
Some sharp editing could have pared this down in half and resulted in a taut twisty thriller. Makes me wonder again: why don't editors' names ever appear in books?
May 19, 2014
Sometimes when I read books, I am delighted to find that an author has captured in words small experiences, feelings, quirks, or occasions in ways I never expected to see in print. If they're really good, like Proust or Alice Munro, they capture experiences I never consciously thought about, but deeply recognize.
Other times, books make the alien understandable. People who react in ways utterly unlike the ways I think I would in similar circumstances, and I understand why they did, because the author teaches me to see through their eyes. In these ways, books do what I strive to do when I teach - make the familiar strange and the strange familiar.
Note: The rest of this review has been withdrawn due to the recent changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook
Other times, books make the alien understandable. People who react in ways utterly unlike the ways I think I would in similar circumstances, and I understand why they did, because the author teaches me to see through their eyes. In these ways, books do what I strive to do when I teach - make the familiar strange and the strange familiar.
Note: The rest of this review has been withdrawn due to the recent changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook
Read
April 10, 2013Overall I would have to say I enjoyed this book, although I found some parts very slow and almost boring while others caught my interest and wanting to know more.
October 10, 2012
"419," an intricate novel about internet fraud and family ties, is one of the five books nominated in 2012 for Canada's main fiction award, the Giller Prize -- with the jury hailing it as a new-style form of global literature. To read it is to enter an inter-connected world, where a retired school teacher in Calgary becomes the counterpart of a displaced pregnant refugee fleeing from the Sahel -- both buffeted by forces beyond their ken yet trying to fulfill their duty as parents. In a superbly rendered plot structure of back and forth vignettes and narratives, Will Ferguson takes us deep into the social and economic texture of Nigeria, while he dissects the details of a deadly car crash in Calgary. The echo of the oil industry reverberates in each location as does the desperation of young men who turn to violence.
Ferguson writes beautifully, and his images are compelling. The school teacher's daughter comes to see herself as a modern Rapunzel, cutting her hair to escape from her hermit-like life. The Ijaw dissidents formed "mosquito crews" that tapped into oil pipelines "through a thousand pinpricks." The oil tanker that Nnamdi and Joe drive north to Kaduna is "a quicksilver coffin." This book is a fine read, it has vivid characters, and Ferguson has clearly done a great deal of research on the ambiguous impact of the oil industry in Nigeria, and on the mechanisms of the "419" internet frauds that have come to be associated with Lagos. This is far more than a thriller, too, despite its high-powered plot and dying bodies. Most of the figures in the book are agonized by their family relationships, with such ties, both positive and negative, shaping and distorting what they do.
And yet. And yet. I feel a sharp unease about "419." The core of my difficulty is this: Ferguson has taken on an extremely ambitious task. He has set himself to write a book set mostly in Nigeria, and write it mostly from the perspective of its black Nigerian characters, especially Nnamdi, the young Ijaw man from the south-eastern Delta area (whose father dies, as does the school-teacher father of Laura in Calgary,) Winston, the gifted Lagos storyteller who spins scams (that lure Laura's father,) and Amina, the young Sahel refugee woman whom Nnamdi befriends. This difficult goal is made even more complex by the fact that Ferguson has never been to Nigeria and experienced first-hand its complicated texture. By writing so much of the book from these perspectives, Ferguson makes the novel much more powerful. But can such writing have the authenticity to be truly insightful and honest?
In the end, others will have to provide a more definitive judgement than I can -- writers such as Yejide Kilanko (who wrote Daughters who Walk this Path,) or Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (who wrote Half of a Yellow Sun.) However, I have worked in Nigeria, been there a number of times, and know West Africa reasonably well -- so I feel that I can legitimately raise some serious questions. Four substantive issues worry me:
1) Like most of Africa, I have seen family ties in Nigeria to be extremely strong. In view of this, I do not find it credible that Nnamdi's mother would force him in effect to leave their village with Amina, rather than welcome her to stay there until her child is born. Her action seems to me especially unlikely given the greater leverage of men in Nigerian society relative to women, especially since Nnamdi has just returned with considerable earnings from his successful tanker expedition to Kaduna -- and since he is now head of the household given his father's death.
2) The treatment of the book's main villain, Ironsi-Egobia, also raises questions for me. That he should be heartless is fair enough. Also that he should carry resentment from being left as an orphan as a child. But the idea that he should have such detailed and constant knowledge of what is happening throughout Lagos, and should be able to intervene so efficiently with the police -- that perspective contradicts every characteristic that makes Lagos the chaotic, pulsating, unknowable amoebe that it is. The essence of Lagos is that there is no control, no coherence, no logic but the force of unchecked weather or markets or movements of people.
3) Then there is Amina. Her compulsive, driven need to escape is never explained. She is apparently from a tiny tribe, that has had major economic reverses. What is making her run? Is someone after her? If so, that is never explained. Why would a Moslem from the north want to go to the south of Nigeria, given the dangers and prejudice she will meet there? Perhaps her pregnancy might lead to sharia law punishment. But not all northern states apply such laws harshly. Could she not have stayed in Zaria or Kaduna, seemingly far from her tribe yet still in a Moslem area where her grasp of the Hausa language would help her?
4) I would raise one final point. Nigeria has a relatively low incidence of HIV-AIDS compared to southern Africa. Yet Ferguson has chosen to build in considerable reference to the disease -- Joe is said to die of it, Ironsi-Egobia's illness shows symptoms of HIV, another high-life singer is described as dead from AIDS. This seems to me to be playing a bit too much to the Western stereotype of Africa.
Overall, then, I have a concern with the authenticity of the story being told, and that troubles me. But at the same time, the points that worry me do not destroy the power of the novel and the force of its characters. I wish Ferguson had been more faithful to the Nigerian reality as I have seen it. But there is a deeper reality, related to family, to love, to obligation and to honesty, that this book treats. And the strength of this novel on that level cannot be questioned.
Ferguson writes beautifully, and his images are compelling. The school teacher's daughter comes to see herself as a modern Rapunzel, cutting her hair to escape from her hermit-like life. The Ijaw dissidents formed "mosquito crews" that tapped into oil pipelines "through a thousand pinpricks." The oil tanker that Nnamdi and Joe drive north to Kaduna is "a quicksilver coffin." This book is a fine read, it has vivid characters, and Ferguson has clearly done a great deal of research on the ambiguous impact of the oil industry in Nigeria, and on the mechanisms of the "419" internet frauds that have come to be associated with Lagos. This is far more than a thriller, too, despite its high-powered plot and dying bodies. Most of the figures in the book are agonized by their family relationships, with such ties, both positive and negative, shaping and distorting what they do.
And yet. And yet. I feel a sharp unease about "419." The core of my difficulty is this: Ferguson has taken on an extremely ambitious task. He has set himself to write a book set mostly in Nigeria, and write it mostly from the perspective of its black Nigerian characters, especially Nnamdi, the young Ijaw man from the south-eastern Delta area (whose father dies, as does the school-teacher father of Laura in Calgary,) Winston, the gifted Lagos storyteller who spins scams (that lure Laura's father,) and Amina, the young Sahel refugee woman whom Nnamdi befriends. This difficult goal is made even more complex by the fact that Ferguson has never been to Nigeria and experienced first-hand its complicated texture. By writing so much of the book from these perspectives, Ferguson makes the novel much more powerful. But can such writing have the authenticity to be truly insightful and honest?
In the end, others will have to provide a more definitive judgement than I can -- writers such as Yejide Kilanko (who wrote Daughters who Walk this Path,) or Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (who wrote Half of a Yellow Sun.) However, I have worked in Nigeria, been there a number of times, and know West Africa reasonably well -- so I feel that I can legitimately raise some serious questions. Four substantive issues worry me:
1) Like most of Africa, I have seen family ties in Nigeria to be extremely strong. In view of this, I do not find it credible that Nnamdi's mother would force him in effect to leave their village with Amina, rather than welcome her to stay there until her child is born. Her action seems to me especially unlikely given the greater leverage of men in Nigerian society relative to women, especially since Nnamdi has just returned with considerable earnings from his successful tanker expedition to Kaduna -- and since he is now head of the household given his father's death.
2) The treatment of the book's main villain, Ironsi-Egobia, also raises questions for me. That he should be heartless is fair enough. Also that he should carry resentment from being left as an orphan as a child. But the idea that he should have such detailed and constant knowledge of what is happening throughout Lagos, and should be able to intervene so efficiently with the police -- that perspective contradicts every characteristic that makes Lagos the chaotic, pulsating, unknowable amoebe that it is. The essence of Lagos is that there is no control, no coherence, no logic but the force of unchecked weather or markets or movements of people.
3) Then there is Amina. Her compulsive, driven need to escape is never explained. She is apparently from a tiny tribe, that has had major economic reverses. What is making her run? Is someone after her? If so, that is never explained. Why would a Moslem from the north want to go to the south of Nigeria, given the dangers and prejudice she will meet there? Perhaps her pregnancy might lead to sharia law punishment. But not all northern states apply such laws harshly. Could she not have stayed in Zaria or Kaduna, seemingly far from her tribe yet still in a Moslem area where her grasp of the Hausa language would help her?
4) I would raise one final point. Nigeria has a relatively low incidence of HIV-AIDS compared to southern Africa. Yet Ferguson has chosen to build in considerable reference to the disease -- Joe is said to die of it, Ironsi-Egobia's illness shows symptoms of HIV, another high-life singer is described as dead from AIDS. This seems to me to be playing a bit too much to the Western stereotype of Africa.
Overall, then, I have a concern with the authenticity of the story being told, and that troubles me. But at the same time, the points that worry me do not destroy the power of the novel and the force of its characters. I wish Ferguson had been more faithful to the Nigerian reality as I have seen it. But there is a deeper reality, related to family, to love, to obligation and to honesty, that this book treats. And the strength of this novel on that level cannot be questioned.
August 10, 2021
"419" на Уил Фъргюсън е доста трудно да бъде определен жанрово, има доста елементи на пътепис, художествената фабула е доста разнородна, може би малко накъсана и некохерентна, но е достатъчно опростено поднесена, за да е лесно да се проследят всяка от трите на пръв поглед нямащи нищо общо истории, които биха могли да си останат такива, но все пак за създаването на художествена цялост ще се преплетат някъде.
Семплият стил в случая е много подходящ за този роман, авторът изгражда една въздействаща и достоверна картина на живота в съвременна Нигерия. Блясъка на Лагос айлънд и чуждестранните сгради, срещу бедността, мизерията и мръсотията в други райони. Хаосът на трафика, мотоциклетистите-такси окада, клаксоните са само част от образа на Лагос:
"Същинският Лагос приличаше на медена пита от кошер, която е била извадена с ритник навън. Наглед всичко се движеше, дори сградите. Миризма на риба и плът. Тесни алеи и предизвикващи клаустрофобия улици."
В този роман историята остава на заден фон, тя има някои нелогични моменти, някои клишета и сама по себе си не би впечатлила, но атмосферата е поглъщаща, трябва да се потопиш във всеки детайл, за да усетиш и опознаеш многото лица на Нигерия. В книгата има много полезни бележки, свързани с различните племена, историята, управляващите, превратите, което е добра отправна точка за интересуващите се като мен. Етническият състав на Нигерия е доста разнообразен (йоруба – 21 %, хауса – 21 %, игбо – 18 %, фулани – 11 % ... иджо – 2 % според Гугъл), всички тези имена се споменават в романа и на моменти е трудно да се запомни кои герой, от коя етническа група е, но цялото това разнообразие е толкова подробно и увлекателно описано, че за миг сякаш се докоснах и до тяхната култура и до различията им. На север са предимно мюсюлмани, на юг християни, но въпреки това са останали части от старите вярвания и суеверия, което за мен също беше безкрайно интересно.
На пръв поглед историята започва много далеч от Африка, в Канада една зимна вечер кола и��лиза от пътя и шофьорът загива на място, в хода на разследването става ясно, че Хенри Къртис е бил въвлечен в нигерийската измама 419. Темата за измамите е все толкова актуална и макар сюжетно някои неща да куцат, има много възможности за осмисляне от читателя. Обстоятелствата позволяват на Лора (дъщеря му) да замине на едно кратко и опасно пътуване в Нигерия, в търсене на отговори.
Далеч на север, Амина, дъщеря на някога гордите конници на Сахел, върви все напред покрай запуснати градчета по шосето, за да напусне завинаги пясъците в търсене на ново нача��о
"Нейният род бяха хора,чийто произход не се свързваше с прелъстяване на лунна светлина или прокудени племена, а със самия прах: народ, получил формата си от самия пейзаж, сред който обитаваше.
Коя бе тя - и откъде бе дошла - бе запечатано в кожата ѝм, то присъстваше във фината геометрия от зараснали белези, врязани в лицето ѝ, белези, които не само подчертаваха красотата ѝ, но и удостоверяваха принадлежността ѝ към рода."
Назад в спомените виждаме фрагменти от нейното минало (за съжаление непълни и това разваля донякъде цялата идея), а по пътя напред екзотиката и очарованието на пейзажа и градовете - Зария и Кадуна, заедно с глада и усилията, които полага, за да остане незабелязана и да оцелее.
В делтата на Нигер, едно момче пораства сред бедни колиби и хора, препитаващи се със земеделие и риболов, върху едно от най-богатите на нефт места в Африка. Но експлоатацията на нефта от Европейците променя всичко. Саботажите и източването на нефтопроводите от местните, черния пазар и екологичните катастрофи в следствие на разливите са сериозно и добре поднесени. Парите от нелегалната продажба на нефт са възможност за по-добър живот.
"Ако нас, нигерийците, ни бива да крадем, научили сме това от британците. Ние може да плячкосваме банкови сметки - те са плячкосали цели континенти. ... И ви уверявам, ние ще си върнем онова, което ни е било откраднато. Банките в Европа и Америка - те се въргалят сред пари като прасета в локвите, те са затлъстели от нашата немотия. ... Къде изтичат парите от нефтените полета в делтата? В офшорни сметки, в чуждестранни банки, връщат се при потомците на търговците на роби. .... защо да не може да би върнат част от ограбеното на нашия континент, който с тяхна помощ е докаран до просешка тояга? Изисква го справедливостта."
Въпреки цялата истина в тези думи, това е удобно оправдание за измамата 419, защото никой не се интересува от възстановяването на някаква имагинерна справедливост, а от собственото си аз, от задоволяването на собствената си алчност, чувството за власт.
Семплият стил в случая е много подходящ за този роман, авторът изгражда една въздействаща и достоверна картина на живота в съвременна Нигерия. Блясъка на Лагос айлънд и чуждестранните сгради, срещу бедността, мизерията и мръсотията в други райони. Хаосът на трафика, мотоциклетистите-такси окада, клаксоните са само част от образа на Лагос:
"Същинският Лагос приличаше на медена пита от кошер, която е била извадена с ритник навън. Наглед всичко се движеше, дори сградите. Миризма на риба и плът. Тесни алеи и предизвикващи клаустрофобия улици."
В този роман историята остава на заден фон, тя има някои нелогични моменти, някои клишета и сама по себе си не би впечатлила, но атмосферата е поглъщаща, трябва да се потопиш във всеки детайл, за да усетиш и опознаеш многото лица на Нигерия. В книгата има много полезни бележки, свързани с различните племена, историята, управляващите, превратите, което е добра отправна точка за интересуващите се като мен. Етническият състав на Нигерия е доста разнообразен (йоруба – 21 %, хауса – 21 %, игбо – 18 %, фулани – 11 % ... иджо – 2 % според Гугъл), всички тези имена се споменават в романа и на моменти е трудно да се запомни кои герой, от коя етническа група е, но цялото това разнообразие е толкова подробно и увлекателно описано, че за миг сякаш се докоснах и до тяхната култура и до различията им. На север са предимно мюсюлмани, на юг християни, но въпреки това са останали части от старите вярвания и суеверия, което за мен също беше безкрайно интересно.
На пръв поглед историята започва много далеч от Африка, в Канада една зимна вечер кола и��лиза от пътя и шофьорът загива на място, в хода на разследването става ясно, че Хенри Къртис е бил въвлечен в нигерийската измама 419. Темата за измамите е все толкова актуална и макар сюжетно някои неща да куцат, има много възможности за осмисляне от читателя. Обстоятелствата позволяват на Лора (дъщеря му) да замине на едно кратко и опасно пътуване в Нигерия, в търсене на отговори.
Далеч на север, Амина, дъщеря на някога гордите конници на Сахел, върви все напред покрай запуснати градчета по шосето, за да напусне завинаги пясъците в търсене на ново нача��о
"Нейният род бяха хора,чийто произход не се свързваше с прелъстяване на лунна светлина или прокудени племена, а със самия прах: народ, получил формата си от самия пейзаж, сред който обитаваше.
Коя бе тя - и откъде бе дошла - бе запечатано в кожата ѝм, то присъстваше във фината геометрия от зараснали белези, врязани в лицето ѝ, белези, които не само подчертаваха красотата ѝ, но и удостоверяваха принадлежността ѝ към рода."
Назад в спомените виждаме фрагменти от нейното минало (за съжаление непълни и това разваля донякъде цялата идея), а по пътя напред екзотиката и очарованието на пейзажа и градовете - Зария и Кадуна, заедно с глада и усилията, които полага, за да остане незабелязана и да оцелее.
В делтата на Нигер, едно момче пораства сред бедни колиби и хора, препитаващи се със земеделие и риболов, върху едно от най-богатите на нефт места в Африка. Но експлоатацията на нефта от Европейците променя всичко. Саботажите и източването на нефтопроводите от местните, черния пазар и екологичните катастрофи в следствие на разливите са сериозно и добре поднесени. Парите от нелегалната продажба на нефт са възможност за по-добър живот.
"Ако нас, нигерийците, ни бива да крадем, научили сме това от британците. Ние може да плячкосваме банкови сметки - те са плячкосали цели континенти. ... И ви уверявам, ние ще си върнем онова, което ни е било откраднато. Банките в Европа и Америка - те се въргалят сред пари като прасета в локвите, те са затлъстели от нашата немотия. ... Къде изтичат парите от нефтените полета в делтата? В офшорни сметки, в чуждестранни банки, връщат се при потомците на търговците на роби. .... защо да не може да би върнат част от ограбеното на нашия континент, който с тяхна помощ е докаран до просешка тояга? Изисква го справедливостта."
Въпреки цялата истина в тези думи, това е удобно оправдание за измамата 419, защото никой не се интересува от възстановяването на някаква имагинерна справедливост, а от собственото си аз, от задоволяването на собствената си алчност, чувството за власт.
January 24, 2013
419 won this year's Giller Prize, perhaps Canada's premiere literary award (some may argue for the Governor-General's prize). It is a fascinating book which rests on a simple premise - what if one believed one of those Nigerian emails that flood our inboxes or spam folders on a daily basis. You know, like this:
And so on. The novel follows in part, the effects on a Canadian family after their father dies and they discover that there is no money. While this story in itself is rife with possibility Ferguson melds it with three other stories: the pilgrimage of a young woman out of the Sahel desert to Lagos; the journey of a young Ijaw tribesman from his village to Lagos; and the tale of the young scammer himself. Their stories, although slowly developed, will converge in the book's conclusion. Ferguson paints a vivid picture of the new Nigeria. In a interview with the Calgary police commercial fraud unit, the two children of the man duped hear about the country from an officer:
All this will be demonstrated in the book. Parts of Ferguson's description of Lagos and the Delta mirrored for me that of Los Angeles in Bladerunner and 2047 India in Ian McDonald's River of Gods. Here, though the time is now and the poverty, corruption, fear and desperation are heart-rending, Nevertheless, this is a well-plotted and controlled book that also demonstrates both human passion and frailty. In a strange way, it's also ennobling and inspiring.
(419, by the way, is the number of the Nigerian statute that bans Internet fraud)
Subject : MR SULEMAN BELLO
FROM THE OFFICE MR SULEMAN BELLO
AFRICAN DEVELOPMENT BANK (ADB).
OUAGADOUGOU BURKINA FASO.
WEST AFRICA.
TRANSFER OF ($ 25,200.000.00) TWENTY FIVE MILLION, TWO HUNDREN THOUSAND DOLLARS.
I AM SULEMAN BELLO, THE AUDITOR GENERAL OF AFRICAN DEVELOPMENT BANK HERE IN BURKINA FASO. DURING THE COURSE OF OUR AUDITING, I DISCOVERED A FLOATING FUND IN AN ACCOUNT OPENED IN THE BANK BY MR JOHN KOROVO AND AFTER GOING THROUGH SOME OLD FILES IN THE RECORDS I DISCOVERED THAT THE OWNER OF THE ACCOUNT DIED IN THE (BEIRUT-BOUND CHARTER JET) PLANE CRASH ON THE 25TH DECEMBER 2003 IN COTONOU (REPUBLIC OF BENIN).
And so on. The novel follows in part, the effects on a Canadian family after their father dies and they discover that there is no money. While this story in itself is rife with possibility Ferguson melds it with three other stories: the pilgrimage of a young woman out of the Sahel desert to Lagos; the journey of a young Ijaw tribesman from his village to Lagos; and the tale of the young scammer himself. Their stories, although slowly developed, will converge in the book's conclusion. Ferguson paints a vivid picture of the new Nigeria. In a interview with the Calgary police commercial fraud unit, the two children of the man duped hear about the country from an officer:
"You seem to know an awful lot about Nigeria," said Warren.
"I do."
Laura looked at the detective. "You've been there, haven't you?"
"I have."
"Lagos?"
He nodded.
"What was it like?"
"It was like looking into the future."
"That bad?"
He nodded.
All this will be demonstrated in the book. Parts of Ferguson's description of Lagos and the Delta mirrored for me that of Los Angeles in Bladerunner and 2047 India in Ian McDonald's River of Gods. Here, though the time is now and the poverty, corruption, fear and desperation are heart-rending, Nevertheless, this is a well-plotted and controlled book that also demonstrates both human passion and frailty. In a strange way, it's also ennobling and inspiring.
(419, by the way, is the number of the Nigerian statute that bans Internet fraud)
December 4, 2012
I am not sure that it was my favourite book on the Giller list, but I enjoyed reading it. I appreciated the complexity of the interrelated stories and especially all the different threads of Nigeria that were depicted. In the acknowledgments Ferfuson suggests that this was based on a true story. I would be curious to know more about the true story.
March 5, 2013
This book won the Giller Prize in 2012. It was an interesting read especially because I grew up in Calgary and know the geography of much of the narrative. If you ever wanted to know, Who answers those emails about the Nigerian relative with millions to deposit into your bank account?, this book furnishes the answers. The book is a page turner in addition to being very informative about email scams. I am not going to spoil the plot, except to say that the plot revolves around a Calgary family victimized by a Nigerian email scammer who gets his comeuppance. There are many avenues of the relation between a white family in Calgary and a Nigerian poor man making his way through the world by preying criminally on westerners that I am not sure Ferguson either didn't explore, or left so subtly buried in the plot that I am not intelligent enough to see (I intend no irony). Since much of the Nigerian side of the plot centres around the annihilation of indigenous culture on the NIgerian coast thanks to oil exploration and destruction of habitat through drilling, it seems an obvious, if ironic, link (though I'm not sure Ferguson has recognized this) to situate the white victimized family in oil town Calgary. As the plot unfolds we gain deep insights into the destruction of Nigerian local cultures through oil industry and we see people surviving by their wits, and crime, to make their way in a new social and cultural situation. As the Calgarian protagonist travels to Nigeria to avenge her father's death, however, the pathos of the situation seems not to emerge, namely that there are two victims or sets of victims in this story: the family that has been scammed and the man who has become part of a crime syndicate to live and support his family. We do learn about a chief character who gets "work" through Shell oil, but under dehumanizing conditions. From a post-colonial perspective one could argue that the Nigerian scammer is engaging in his own form of capital enterprise by preying on and exploiting a native Calgarian. In that regard he is engaging in a form of colonial mimicry. However, the novel appears to end on a note of Schadenfreude, without the protagonist comprehending (or the reader for that matter) the deeper international logic that pits protagonist and antagonist against one another, and makes of them both perpetrators and victims. I would have thought that at the very least one would have had some link between the kind of gum-shoes Calgary detective story with its setting as the symbol of big oil and Nigeria as at once benefiting and suffering because of oil. I note that the author is a native Albertan and lives in Red Deer, so that left me wondering if the setting is accidental or familiar territory. If one wants to be even more suspicious, one might wonder if there is another kind of Albertan narrative going on here that is studiously uninformed about the oil industry's impact on the world. But that would I think be too deconstructive.
April 10, 2013
The problem with prize-winning novels is, we can’t read them without thinking, “Would I have given this a prize?” We can’t read them without comparing them with the other contenders and second-guessing the work of the judges.
419 received the 2012 Scotiabank Giller Prize—a rather big deal here in Canada. No matter what people think about this book, with a Giller Prize win Will Ferguson won’t have any trouble signing book contracts for future projects.
Is he deserving? I think so.
419 begins with the stories of four very different, seemingly unconnected, people: Laura, a copy editor living in Calgary; Winston, a Nigerian internet scammer; Amina, a pregnant Muslim woman travelling through Nigeria alone to flee a mysterious threat; and Nnamdi, a boy from the Nigerian Delta who leaves his village to work for American oil interests. As savvy readers, we know they will inevitably connect, but Ferguson unfolds the story carefully, so we must keep reading to see how these disparate threads intertwine. Even when the inevitable meeting happens, we can’t predict the final outcome, so we must keep reading to see what transpires. I wouldn’t call it a page-turner, but I would call it compelling.
419 is the section in the Nigerian Criminal Code that deals with obtaining money through fraudulent means—internet email scams, for example. A significant portion of this book is set in Nigeria, and Ferguson does an outstanding job (Dare I say prize-winning?) of portraying Nigeria with harsh truths but respect and love. While reading, I thought repeatedly, “A Canadian wrote this?” How could a writer not born, raised and steeped in Nigerian culture capture it with such sensory precision? When reading Ferguson’s description of a car trip through Lagos, I could almost see, hear, smell the African city.
Ferguson wrote some beautiful phrases that I stopped and savoured. “She had outwalked her own dialect . . .” “Wealth produced garbage as surely as food produced feces.”
The book didn’t resolve itself in the way I would have wished, but it did resolve in a way that was true to the story.
So, what are the flaws? Perhaps the subject? Most North Americans have armed themselves with spam filters and skepticism enough to avoid falling prey to schemes like those portrayed in the book. I didn’t read it from an “If I’m not careful, this could happen to me” perspective, but more a “This is what used to happen to people” point of view.
I had to read this book because it won the Giller Prize. I tried to set its prize-winning status aside when reading. Was it deserving? I think so. But you should definitely give the other shortlisted books a try, too.
419 received the 2012 Scotiabank Giller Prize—a rather big deal here in Canada. No matter what people think about this book, with a Giller Prize win Will Ferguson won’t have any trouble signing book contracts for future projects.
Is he deserving? I think so.
419 begins with the stories of four very different, seemingly unconnected, people: Laura, a copy editor living in Calgary; Winston, a Nigerian internet scammer; Amina, a pregnant Muslim woman travelling through Nigeria alone to flee a mysterious threat; and Nnamdi, a boy from the Nigerian Delta who leaves his village to work for American oil interests. As savvy readers, we know they will inevitably connect, but Ferguson unfolds the story carefully, so we must keep reading to see how these disparate threads intertwine. Even when the inevitable meeting happens, we can’t predict the final outcome, so we must keep reading to see what transpires. I wouldn’t call it a page-turner, but I would call it compelling.
419 is the section in the Nigerian Criminal Code that deals with obtaining money through fraudulent means—internet email scams, for example. A significant portion of this book is set in Nigeria, and Ferguson does an outstanding job (Dare I say prize-winning?) of portraying Nigeria with harsh truths but respect and love. While reading, I thought repeatedly, “A Canadian wrote this?” How could a writer not born, raised and steeped in Nigerian culture capture it with such sensory precision? When reading Ferguson’s description of a car trip through Lagos, I could almost see, hear, smell the African city.
Ferguson wrote some beautiful phrases that I stopped and savoured. “She had outwalked her own dialect . . .” “Wealth produced garbage as surely as food produced feces.”
The book didn’t resolve itself in the way I would have wished, but it did resolve in a way that was true to the story.
So, what are the flaws? Perhaps the subject? Most North Americans have armed themselves with spam filters and skepticism enough to avoid falling prey to schemes like those portrayed in the book. I didn’t read it from an “If I’m not careful, this could happen to me” perspective, but more a “This is what used to happen to people” point of view.
I had to read this book because it won the Giller Prize. I tried to set its prize-winning status aside when reading. Was it deserving? I think so. But you should definitely give the other shortlisted books a try, too.
December 11, 2012
Overall, I enjoyed reading this. I found the writing to be a bit clunky, and the changes of narrator to be abrupt and confusing - it took me a while to sink into the novel, as I was getting comfortable with the circumstances of each narrator. The story itself, though, was original and intriguing - centering around young people in Nigeria who commit fraud by luring people into sending them money via the internet - the classic "Nigerian prince in trouble" scams that most of us filter right to our inboxes, referred to as "419" scams. The central theme that stood out to me had to do with guilt and responsibility, and the escalation of retribution and entitlement. Do foreign companies have the right to purchase oil from Nigeria, decimating the culture and means to life of citizens? Do these citizens have the right to fight back, vandalizing and "stealing" from the oil companies? Do people living in America (and other countries benefiting from foreign oil) have the right to a good life fuelled by the oil and profits extracted from places like Nigeria? Do young Nigerians, displaced and dispossessed by deals made between governments and international business interests, have the right to steal it back through a scam? Is it more unfair that a Nigerian boy should have his village, family, and dreams dashed by the interests of oil companies, or that this boy should drive a trusting, kind American to suicide by scamming him out of his life savings?
Definitely worth picking up.
Definitely worth picking up.
March 23, 2015
This is a story about a man who was duped by a Nigerian scam artist. I was immersed in this story from the beginning. So vivid was it that I could smell and taste Nigeria as I was reading.
I think we all have received these types of letters and emails, usually from someone calling himself "Mr." The story is realistic to the point that you wonder if this has truly happened.
For anyone who uses the internet, this is a must read.
I think we all have received these types of letters and emails, usually from someone calling himself "Mr." The story is realistic to the point that you wonder if this has truly happened.
For anyone who uses the internet, this is a must read.
September 17, 2020
I have read this work of fiction for book club and although not my genre during these troubled times, there was great insight into the world of 419 and Nigeria. The name comes from a section of the Nigerian Criminal Code that deals with obtaining money or goods under false pretences. Big business as we all know in real life as we deal with emails and telephone calls from scammers daily. An interesting ending to say the least.
April 8, 2021
Well, to be honest, I skipped over a number of pages that had Ndamdi & others from the oil consortium as I did not know what it had to do with the story. And, I struggled with the portion of Ndamdi and Amina story-line until the very end of the book.
Laura's character was well conceived and written, same for Winston, Joe and Ironsi-Egobuia.
I learned a little more about the internet scams and how easily some people are taken in by these and it shows by the amount of research the author did when writing the book.
I was disappointed in the ending as I figured Laura would just take the money and be happy that she resolved the issue between the scammers and her dad.
Laura's character was well conceived and written, same for Winston, Joe and Ironsi-Egobuia.
I learned a little more about the internet scams and how easily some people are taken in by these and it shows by the amount of research the author did when writing the book.
I was disappointed in the ending as I figured Laura would just take the money and be happy that she resolved the issue between the scammers and her dad.
March 2, 2013
At the section titled "Fuel," I started to get interested in this book. But unfortunately, that was about half way through its pages. "Fuel" is where we start to follow Nnamdi, the boy we meet on the outskirts his Nigerian village — the same place he runs into the "Shell man," (the guy from the oil company who's scoping out the Delta for places to drill).
Prior to that point in the novel, I found myself becoming repeatedly annoyed by the writing. The book starts with choppy sentence fragments that seem designed to function as cinematic montage, quickly introducing us to the different worlds inhabited by the main characters by setting their disparate moods - from lush jungle to parched desert and to the car crash on a deserted road late at night in an unnamed Canadian city. I don't know as much about the craft of writing as I do that of cinema, but I know that in filmic storytelling, you can only get away with that kind of fast editing at the outset of your tale if you can immediately invest it with narrative and emotional intensity so it really throws the whole thing into gear right away. Otherwise you have to wait until the viewer is particularly heavily invested in the story first. But in this case, the fragmentation of the beginning, and in fact, first half of the novel with its eventually-to-converge story lines popping back and forth, felt contrived. I kept thinking that the author had switched to one of the other stories because he'd run out of ways to continue the part he'd been writing and decided to try to amp up the interest by pointing to something else. I actually ended up skimming through a few chapters — not what I'd expected from the winner of the Giller prize.
What made this book worth reading, in the end, were the descriptions of Nigeria and the way that energy colonialism decimates not only a landscape, but human relationships and the structure of the colonized society. I don't know how Nigerians would respond to this book. Perhaps it would seem artificial to them, but to me, although I've never been to Nigeria, the description of this world seemed real and honest and present on the page. And Will Ferguson gets points for not trying to make this a story where everything turns out okay in the end, because it isn't a world where that happens.
Just a few words about the characters: Amina was boring - a cipher, which I think is kind of insulting to anyone who might find herself in the position she was in. And by the way - why exactly was she on her lengthy pilgrimmage?
Laura's purpose on the other hand was always very clear - perhaps a little too clear. I mean, everyone knows that copy editors are imbued with wisdom and great insight and are oracles of language and all that, but she seemed to be a bit too much mild-mannered copy editor by day/Laura Croft, Tomb Raider by night – capable of outwitting evil bad guys and carrying home the prize. I didn't really buy it.
Winston, the internet scam artist, was interesting, but his parents were a lot more interesting. I wanted to stay on after dinner and maybe spend the weekend with them.
Nnamdi was likeable because he was clever and kind, but I couldn't help thinking that he was being set up for sacrifice (spoiler alert) so that the ending would leave that desired sour taste in the mouth.
But what on earth was going on with Sergeant Brisebois? So he never rescued anyone. And … ?
Anyway, I thought I was going to write something a lot more positive than this when I sat down to write it. I actually did enjoy the last half of the book, but on closer analysis …
After Esi Edugyan's Half Blood Blues, and Joseph Boyden's Through Black Spruce, I had been all set for something wonderful from the Giller winner. I'll keep reading Will Ferguson's books as they come out, and hoping that the clunkiness of this one was just because it was a first novel. From all I know of is work, I think he's got some good things to say and will find more elegant ways of saying them.
Prior to that point in the novel, I found myself becoming repeatedly annoyed by the writing. The book starts with choppy sentence fragments that seem designed to function as cinematic montage, quickly introducing us to the different worlds inhabited by the main characters by setting their disparate moods - from lush jungle to parched desert and to the car crash on a deserted road late at night in an unnamed Canadian city. I don't know as much about the craft of writing as I do that of cinema, but I know that in filmic storytelling, you can only get away with that kind of fast editing at the outset of your tale if you can immediately invest it with narrative and emotional intensity so it really throws the whole thing into gear right away. Otherwise you have to wait until the viewer is particularly heavily invested in the story first. But in this case, the fragmentation of the beginning, and in fact, first half of the novel with its eventually-to-converge story lines popping back and forth, felt contrived. I kept thinking that the author had switched to one of the other stories because he'd run out of ways to continue the part he'd been writing and decided to try to amp up the interest by pointing to something else. I actually ended up skimming through a few chapters — not what I'd expected from the winner of the Giller prize.
What made this book worth reading, in the end, were the descriptions of Nigeria and the way that energy colonialism decimates not only a landscape, but human relationships and the structure of the colonized society. I don't know how Nigerians would respond to this book. Perhaps it would seem artificial to them, but to me, although I've never been to Nigeria, the description of this world seemed real and honest and present on the page. And Will Ferguson gets points for not trying to make this a story where everything turns out okay in the end, because it isn't a world where that happens.
Just a few words about the characters: Amina was boring - a cipher, which I think is kind of insulting to anyone who might find herself in the position she was in. And by the way - why exactly was she on her lengthy pilgrimmage?
Laura's purpose on the other hand was always very clear - perhaps a little too clear. I mean, everyone knows that copy editors are imbued with wisdom and great insight and are oracles of language and all that, but she seemed to be a bit too much mild-mannered copy editor by day/Laura Croft, Tomb Raider by night – capable of outwitting evil bad guys and carrying home the prize. I didn't really buy it.
Winston, the internet scam artist, was interesting, but his parents were a lot more interesting. I wanted to stay on after dinner and maybe spend the weekend with them.
Nnamdi was likeable because he was clever and kind, but I couldn't help thinking that he was being set up for sacrifice (spoiler alert) so that the ending would leave that desired sour taste in the mouth.
But what on earth was going on with Sergeant Brisebois? So he never rescued anyone. And … ?
Anyway, I thought I was going to write something a lot more positive than this when I sat down to write it. I actually did enjoy the last half of the book, but on closer analysis …
After Esi Edugyan's Half Blood Blues, and Joseph Boyden's Through Black Spruce, I had been all set for something wonderful from the Giller winner. I'll keep reading Will Ferguson's books as they come out, and hoping that the clunkiness of this one was just because it was a first novel. From all I know of is work, I think he's got some good things to say and will find more elegant ways of saying them.
February 12, 2013
When I think of Canadian author Will Ferguson, it is his travel memoirs that immediately spring to mind. That and his rich sense of humour (He has won The Leacock Medal for Humour numerous times.)
419 takes us in a completely different direction....
We've all received them. In fact Barrister Salvadore Gallarto sent me one this morning. Can I help him with repatriating 8.5 million euros? It's a simple matter really. I'm sure that every reader has had one of these land in our inbox. And we promptly trash them. But what if you didn't?
Laura Curtis is heartbroken when her elderly father Henry is killed in an auto accident. But on further investigation, it appears he deliberately left the road. Why would he do such a thing? Further digging by the local Calgary police on his computer uncovers the truth - he had become embroiled in a 419 scam...."I can help...." (419 is the Nigerian criminal code for "obtaining money or goods under false pretenses.)
On the other side of the world in Nigeria, we follow the story of Winston - a 419 scammer. And Amina - a young pregnant woman walking her way across the country, escaping from something. And Nnamdi, a young man from the depths of the Niger Delta.
In the beginning, I wondered how these disparate stories would tie together, but Ferguson deftly weaves an absolutely riveting plot. The criminal underbelly of Nigeria is presented in all of it's seediness. But really, it is the story of Nnamdi that captured me the most. His story is given the most page space and he is the character I felt I 'knew' the most. The effect of the oil industry on a country and its' people is disheartening. The death of her father changes Laura as well. She becomes single minded, after years of staying safely within the confines of the small world she has created. She decides to go to Nigeria and find the man responsible for her father's death. I didn't feel I really got to know Laura and found her sudden about face to be a bit of a stretch.
419 is many things - a mystery, a thriller and a social commentary. I turned the final page with a sense of sadness. Varying degrees, but for most of the characters. Ferguson's tale of the story behind one of these schemes brings a very human face to what most see as a simple nuisance entry handled by a quick tap on the delete button.
An unusual, introspective and recommended read.
419 takes us in a completely different direction....
We've all received them. In fact Barrister Salvadore Gallarto sent me one this morning. Can I help him with repatriating 8.5 million euros? It's a simple matter really. I'm sure that every reader has had one of these land in our inbox. And we promptly trash them. But what if you didn't?
Laura Curtis is heartbroken when her elderly father Henry is killed in an auto accident. But on further investigation, it appears he deliberately left the road. Why would he do such a thing? Further digging by the local Calgary police on his computer uncovers the truth - he had become embroiled in a 419 scam...."I can help...." (419 is the Nigerian criminal code for "obtaining money or goods under false pretenses.)
On the other side of the world in Nigeria, we follow the story of Winston - a 419 scammer. And Amina - a young pregnant woman walking her way across the country, escaping from something. And Nnamdi, a young man from the depths of the Niger Delta.
In the beginning, I wondered how these disparate stories would tie together, but Ferguson deftly weaves an absolutely riveting plot. The criminal underbelly of Nigeria is presented in all of it's seediness. But really, it is the story of Nnamdi that captured me the most. His story is given the most page space and he is the character I felt I 'knew' the most. The effect of the oil industry on a country and its' people is disheartening. The death of her father changes Laura as well. She becomes single minded, after years of staying safely within the confines of the small world she has created. She decides to go to Nigeria and find the man responsible for her father's death. I didn't feel I really got to know Laura and found her sudden about face to be a bit of a stretch.
419 is many things - a mystery, a thriller and a social commentary. I turned the final page with a sense of sadness. Varying degrees, but for most of the characters. Ferguson's tale of the story behind one of these schemes brings a very human face to what most see as a simple nuisance entry handled by a quick tap on the delete button.
An unusual, introspective and recommended read.
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