I greeted the news from a friend of Chimamanda Adichie winning the 2007 Orange Prize for Fiction for Half of a Yellow Sun with ambivalence. It was more in regards to the book than the talent of the author. I must preempt the following explanation by stating how much I admire Adichie as a writer. I think without question she is one of the most gifted and refreshing authors to come out in recent years. Her first novel Purple Hibiscus took me unawares and left me with no doubt that it was a seminal piece. It was one of those books that became a yardstick by which I measured other novels and writers. Its beauty is in its simplicity. Ask me to tell you what it’s about and it’s a stretch – in short not a lot happens. Through it’s main character Kambili, it deals with very familiar topics like domestic violence, religious zealotry and hypocrisy and coming-of-age. Here lies the genius of Purple Hibiscus. In the hands of any ordinary writer the book would have been derivative but Adichie masters the art of taking age-old issues and presenting them in a refreshing, sensitive and accessible way. Not overly reliant on elaborate imagery and with a similar prosaic narrative-voice so effectively used in Chinua Achebe’s Things fall Apart (one of Adichie’s literary heroes) her first outing managed to be at once empathetic and emotive without the reader feeling they were being manipulated to react this way.

I cannot however say the same for Half of a Yellow Sun. Having held her debut in such high esteem I could not wait to get my hands on the follow-up and pre-ordered my copy. It soon became apparent to me that what made Purple Hibiscus so special was missing in the second novel. There was a sense of self-consciousness in the writing that was not apparent in her debut, as if she wanted this to be regarded as an epic piece. The young author admitted in a recent interview with BBC Africa Beyond that there was not the same sense of expectation with ‘Purple Hibiscus’, obviously because she was a new kid on the block. This self-awareness made the book seem less sincere in parts.

‘…Yellow Sun’ ticks all the boxes of what makes a controversial and sensational novel – sex, war/violence, issues of class, badass language – and yet it lacks the soul of Purple Hibiscus. The debut did not need to resort to these plot devices to be such a worthy read. If you think this is coming from a socially conservative standpoint think again. I recently discussed the book with a friend who is not prone to prudishness by any count. To my surprise he commented the book was overly reliant on graphic scenes when he said, and I paraphrase, that he doubts any one anywhere would have been so liberal sexually even in the swinging 60s, let alone a middle class family in Nigeria. This is a country that still has a very conservative outlook on many things, as I experienced on my recent trip there.

‘…Yellow Sun’ is told from multiple viewpoints but the characters in the first novel seem a lot more 3-dimensional and easy to relate to despite the fact it is told from one perspective. Now this could be down to my own predilection for character as opposed to plot-driven stories. However the majority of people I know who have read both novels, with the exception of one, found it easier to connect with ‘Purple Hibiscus’ and an altogether better book. And whilst the first novel was short and sweet and got to the point, ‘…Yellow Sun’ seemed too long in parts and much was superfluous to the novel’s needs. Ironically I think it’s Adichie’s skill as a writer that saves ‘…Yellow sun’ from being barely-readable melodrama.

Now Adichie should be commended for tackling such a sensitive topic as the Biafran war. She has certainly achieved what I believe she set out to do in raising awareness of the war especially amongst young Nigerians of her generation, like myself. As a result of reading the book I started to take an active interest in researching the causes of the war although finding texts with a non-Biafran bias has proved difficult indeed. I don’t doubt that her desire to deal with this subject has been a long time coming. In a recent interview in the Guardian Miss Adichie reflects on how she started writing about Biafra at 16. Being of the Igbo tribe of eastern Nigeria, who suffered great loss of life prior to and as a cause of the war, she felt the need to explore this dark and seldom-discussed part of the country’s history.

Nevertheless I have my own cynical view as to why she chose such a monumental and ambitious subject matter and it is the same reason I believe the Orange Prize judges decided to award her with the prize this year. It seems little do with the actual quality of writing but more to do with literary politics. Adichie was long listed for the Man Booker Prize and short listed for the UK Orange Prize for Fiction with 'Purple...’ in 2004 but lost out on the latter to another epic novel Andrea Levy's 'Small Island' which also had a good dose of sex, war and questionable language in parts. Don’t misunderstand, ‘Small Island’ is a great novel but Levy had several books to her credit by this time. Yet even as a debut novel ‘Purple…’ was in a league of its own. But it seems that for the panels judging these book awards the more sensational the novel and ambitious the topic the better and more likely it is to win. I imagine Miss Adichie felt slighted and cheated when she did not win the prize 3 years ago – and so she should. Miss Adichie wants to win awards too and it's my estimation she feels the need to play 'the game' – hence a change of tack. But surely it takes more dexterity to write a novel that takes the simple and mundane aspects of the quotidian, makes the reader care about the protagonist(s) daily struggles without it all becoming a bit too self-indulgent. The debut novel had that quality –despite it’s ‘ordinary’ subject matter.

I cannot say I am familiar with most of the other books short-listed for this year's Orange Prize except the ‘Inheritance of Loss’ by Kiran Desai, which won the 2006 Man Booker Prize. Ms Desai has undeniable skill but I found the novel less inspired than it was acclaimed to be. Once again we find the author deals with major issues such as class conflict in post-colonial India, the repercussions of colonialism, disenchantment with the American dream, romance, cultural displacement and anything else that has plagued man since the dawn of the modern age. The novel tried to deal with so much at once I was distracted and much of the sympathy and sense of engagement that I should have had for the characters didn’t have a chance to develop. But what do I know? ‘Inheritance…’ is an epic novel and the Man Booker judges duly rewarded Ms Desai for her efforts.

The same theory could be applied to Zadie Smith. One of the most prodigious and distinctive writers of the new millennium and a personal favourite, Smith’s gift of characterisation is second to none. She is also very adept at writing books, which are not big in the way of story line but make compulsive reading nonetheless. Her characters are so believable the reader could be convinced they have always known them and that they are merely a phone call away. She won the Orange Prize 2006 for ‘On Beauty’. This too is a good book – I believe Smith is incapable of writing an unengaging read – but not necessarily her best work. Yet it has a healthy dose of sensationalism, graphic scenes and yes, ticks those all-important boxes. I also think Smith’s winning of the Orange Prize last year was to compensate for her two previous books, the iconic ‘White Teeth’ and ingenious but underrated ‘Autograph Man’ being snubbed by the prestigious award. That leads to the second reason I feel Miss Adichie won this year – a consolatory gesture for what was denied her in 2004.

Of course all of this is conjecture and without a signed confession from the judges of these awards, hard to prove. But there does appear to be a pattern forming for what it takes to win these awards – and quality of work I fear is not always the paramount consideration.

There is hope that the simple but effective novel can sometimes triumph. Diana Evans was awarded none other than the Orange Prize for New Writers in 2005 for the sublime ‘26A’. Once again this is not a book so heavy on plot and more interested in exploring the diverse personalities of the two main characters, twins Bessie and Georgia, the dynamics of their relationship with each other, their family and the big wide world around them. Not to say that there are not meaty issues addressed in the book but these are discussed and driven by way of the characters and not vice versa.

I should be ecstatic that Miss Adichie is being recognised for her indisputable gift as a writer even if I do not feel as strongly about her second book as I do about ‘Purple Hibiscus’. Still it seems a phyrric victory that ‘…Yellow Sun’ is receiving so much attention compared to her, arguably, superior debut. Perhaps Richard & Judy and the like feel obligated to laud her efforts due to the topic of the Nigerian civil war and how it’s packaged in the book as oppose to the quality of writing itself. It is my hope that Miss Adichie’s third novel will see a return of the style and magic that set ‘Purple Hibiscus’ apart.

* is a trainee solicitor living in London.

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