
For instance, a friend of mine once lost a parent. In some ways, it is normal human behavior to be so empathetic that we wind up accidentally centering ourselves in other people’s struggles. And yet Harry is also a sympathetic character in the sense that he really is trying his best. The real heart of the novel, of course, lies in the Black, Black African, immigrant, and general POC communities whose narratives Harry empathizes with but also feels entitled to. Writing the story in his point of view (POV) was simply an extension of that metaphor of a man who centers himself in a narrative that is not his to claim. But in all his allyship, he winds up centering himself in the struggle for racial justice to the point of essentially seeing himself as the victim. He sees himself as better than his parents. What drew you to this point of view?Ĭhinelo Okparanta: Harry is essentially a character who believes that he is a great ally. The Rumpus: The novel takes place entirely in first person, and is told from Harry’s perspective. I spoke with Okparanta over email about Harry and about the book. The portrait drawn in the book is irreverent and critical, yet always sympathetic. And when Maryam begins to pull away, Harry is forced to confront his identity as he never has before. The story continues as Harry tries to make a life in New York City with Maryam, at times bumbling and loud-mouthed and at others, seemingly paralyzed by the world around him. In college, Harry meets a fellow student, a Nigerian woman named Maryam, and falls in love. Her second novel, Harry Sylvester Bird, follows its titular white protagonist from his teenage years into young adulthood, as he struggles to make a place in the world, despite a difficult relationship with his racist, unemployed father and his germaphobe mother. She has published work in journals such as The New Yorker, Granta, Tin House, and Kenyon Review. Chinelo Okparanta’s first novel, Under the Udala Trees, won the 2016 Lambda Literary Award for General Lesbian Fiction, and was long-listed for a number of prizes including the Center for Fiction’s First Novel Prize, an NAACP Image Award, and a Hurston-Wright Legacy Award.
