A tour de force.” — Washington Post Book World
“Brilliant. . . . This is a remarkable novel that suggests a dazzling literary future.” — People (****)
“A startling debut…. Iweala’s acute imagining allows him to depict the war as a mesh of bestial pleasures and pain.” — The New Yorker
“An outstanding first novel. . . . Resonant, beautiful. . . . Iweala’s book will be readily embraced by readers.” — Janet Maslin, New York Times
“Electrifying. . . . A harrowing read. . . The story is gripping enough. But even more stunning is the extraordinarily original voice. . . . Always breathless, often breathtaking, and sometimes heartbreaking.” — Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Searing and visceral. . . . Agu’s unblinking innocence gives the story its most powerful and disturbing beauty.” — San Diego Union-Tribune
“The hypnotic present tense, first-person narration draws the reader deep into the child soldier’s shattered psyche.” — Washington Post
“Remarkable. . . . Iweala never wavers from a gripping, pulsing narrative voice. . . . He captures the horror of ethnic violence in all its brutality and the vulnerability of youth in all its innocence.” — Entertainment Weekly (A)
“Devastating. . . a raw and brutal story about the horrifying effects of cruelty and the incredible power of hope.” — Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“This is an extraordinary book. . . . so vivid [and] powerful.” — Sunday Telegraph
“Uzodinma Iweala is a gifted and brave writer.” — Chris Abani, author of GraceLand
“A harrowing account of the intoxication of violence…that offers no easy answers or explanations.” — Library Journal
“In Beasts of No Nation Uzodinma Iweala has crafted a voice that is equal to the demands of a blood-soaked reality. This is a work of visceral urgency and power: it heralds the arrival of a major talent.” — Amitav Ghosh, author of The Glass Palace
“An astonishing debut. . . . Iweala writes with great restraint, mindful that the most important battle is for a boy’s soul: Redemption is possible, even if a return to innocence is not.” — Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“Iweala gives his hero a voice that is literary yet poetic. . . . The acute characterization, the adroit mixture of color and restraint, and the horrific emotional force of the narrative are impressive. Still more impressive is Iweala’s ability to maintain not only our sympathy but our affection for his central character.” — New York Times Book Review
“Searing. . . . An extraordinary debut novel.” — Time magazine
“Stark, vivid. . . . Written like a nightmare in progress, this story is a fever dream of voice and consciousness.” — San Francisco Chronicle
“Uzodinma Iweala is receiving not just hype but praise from reviewers for the frighteningly convincing voice of a preteen soldier.” — New York Magazine
The hypnotic present tense, first-person narration draws the reader deep into the child soldier’s shattered psyche.
This is an extraordinary book. . . . so vivid [and] powerful.
An outstanding first novel. . . . Resonant, beautiful. . . . Iweala’s book will be readily embraced by readers.
Brilliant. . . . This is a remarkable novel that suggests a dazzling literary future.
A tour de force.
Washington Post Book World
A startling debut…. Iweala’s acute imagining allows him to depict the war as a mesh of bestial pleasures and pain.
Devastating. . . a raw and brutal story about the horrifying effects of cruelty and the incredible power of hope.
Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Searing and visceral. . . . Agu’s unblinking innocence gives the story its most powerful and disturbing beauty.
Remarkable. . . . Iweala never wavers from a gripping, pulsing narrative voice. . . . He captures the horror of ethnic violence in all its brutality and the vulnerability of youth in all its innocence.
Uzodinma Iweala is receiving not just hype but praise from reviewers for the frighteningly convincing voice of a preteen soldier.
Uzodinma Iweala is a gifted and brave writer.
Iweala gives his hero a voice that is literary yet poetic. . . . The acute characterization, the adroit mixture of color and restraint, and the horrific emotional force of the narrative are impressive. Still more impressive is Iweala’s ability to maintain not only our sympathy but our affection for his central character.
New York Times Book Review
Searing. . . . An extraordinary debut novel.
In Beasts of No Nation Uzodinma Iweala has crafted a voice that is equal to the demands of a blood-soaked reality. This is a work of visceral urgency and power: it heralds the arrival of a major talent.
Stark, vivid. . . . Written like a nightmare in progress, this story is a fever dream of voice and consciousness.
Stark, vivid. . . . Written like a nightmare in progress, this story is a fever dream of voice and consciousness.
This is an extraordinary book. . . . so vivid [and] powerful.
A startling debut…. Iweala’s acute imagining allows him to depict the war as a mesh of bestial pleasures and pain.
The hypnotic present tense, first-person narration draws the reader deep into the child soldier’s shattered psyche.
Devastating. . . a raw and brutal story about the horrifying effects of cruelty and the incredible power of hope.
Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers Beasts of No Nation is not merely the description of a physical battle but of a spiritual one -- the battle for a boy's very soul. And by the book's end, we can glimpse redemption.
(Holiday 2005 Selection )
Iweala's visceral debut is unrelenting in its brutality and unremitting in its intensity. Agu, the precocious, gentle son of a village schoolteacher father and a Bible-reading mother, is dragooned into an unnamed West African nation's mad civil war-a slip of a boy forced, almost overnight, to shoulder a soldier's bloody burden. The preteen protagonist is molded into a fighting man by his demented guerrilla leader and, after witnessing his father's savage slaying, by an inchoate need to belong to some kind of family, no matter how depraved. He becomes a killer, gripped by a muddled sense of revenge as he butchers a mother and daughter when his ragtag unit raids a defenseless village; starved for both food and affection, he is sodomized by his commandant and rewarded with extra food scraps and a dry place to sleep. The subject of the 23-year-old novelist's story-Iweala is American born of Nigerian descent-is gripping enough. But even more stunning is the extraordinarily original voice with which this tale is told. The impressionistic narration by a boy constantly struggling to understand the incomprehensible is always breathless, often breathtaking and sometimes heartbreaking. Its odd singsong cadence and twisted use of tense take a few pages to get used to, but Iweala's electrifying prose soon enough propels a harrowing read. (Nov. 8) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Have you ever wondered how children become enlisted as soldiers, and men become desensitized to slaughter? Iweala's aptly titled debut takes us into the belly of the beast from the perspective of the school-aged Agu. Separated from his family when a civil war erupts, he is taken captive and adopted as a soldier by a band of lawless men and boys. It could be anywhere and anytime in Africa, when desperation, fear, and hatred fuel bloodshed and inhumanity. Agu is cajoled into his first killing, with his commandant telling him it is like falling in love: "You are just having to doing it, he is saying." The soldiers are told to view their enemies as dogs or goats, as meat. With hunger and confusion propelling him, Agu gets a taste for killing-a taste that galls him in the moments when he lets his guard down. The terror that Agu witnesses and engages in is told in his simple, declarative voice that makes the violence all the more senseless and immediate. This slim, harrowing account of the intoxication of violence and how quickly it can escalate is a cautionary tale that offers no easy answers or explanations. Recommended for public and YA libraries. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 7/05; see also "Fall Editors' Picks," p. 40-44.]-Misha Stone, Seattle P.L. Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
This astonishing debut by a gifted 23-year-old American of Nigerian ancestry tracks an African child soldier's descent into hell. Resilient but terrified, Little Agu is a wide-eyed, preteen boy thrown among the demented and the depraved. At the start, in an unspecified West African country, he's being dragged out of a shack in the bush and beaten by another child. There are trucks, and soldiers in rags. They offer Agu food and water and the chance to be a soldier. Agu accepts (as if he had a choice). He has lost his loving, close-knit family. His mother and sister were evacuated by the UN, and his schoolteacher father was shot before his eyes. Agu inherited their Christian and animist beliefs; the smartest kid in his one-room school, he loved to read the Bible. Now he must kill. It's not so hard if you're high on "gun juice." Explains Agu: "They are all saying, stop worrying. Stop worrying. Soon it will be your own turn and then you will know what it is feeling like to be killing somebody. Then they are laughing at me and spitting on the ground near my feets." Agu comes across a mother and daughter and butchers them with his knife. He wants to be a good soldier, yet he is fearful of being a "bad boy"-and there is no way to resolve the contradiction. Agu is always tired, always hungry, and his ordeal stretches into the night when he is used as a sex toy and sodomized. There are no pitched battles, just these ragtag rebels killing and plundering. Iweala writes with great restraint, mindful that the most important battle is for a boy's soul: Redemption is possible, even if a return to innocence is not. The outrageous conscription of children has its own heartbreaking lament.
