Average Reviews:
(More customer reviews)I received this book via the Amazon Vine program. It's the no-frills, pre-published edition complete with typos and inexpensive binding. My understanding is the final edition has a map or two + some lovely photos to accompany the story. I certainly could have used both but honestly, this book was so good I didn't really care.
McKinley has taken what might have been a rather dull, dry topic and turned it into something incredibly compelling. However the title of the book is misleading and my sense is perhaps the publisher wasn't really sure how best to categorize it. This isn't just a history of indigo...it's also a seamless series of travel essays, a memoir, a social, political, and cultural commentary, and lastly -- an unflinching homage to Africa and art. The writing is eloquent and poetic, the descriptions vivid...an excellent reminder of what good writing looks like. McKinley is incredibly respectful of her subject matter without coming across as stiff...she treats people and places with a quiet dignity and a gentle sense of humor. And she doesn't flinch from depicting the harsh realities of life in Gold Coast Africa, especially for women and children.
I've never been to Africa...and, for the most part, I've never had a burning desire to go. But McKinley has sparked an interest in me, a desire to see for myself some of the things she brought to life in the pages of her book. Even though her primary focus was the Gold Coast areas (with a beautiful glimpse into the Tuareg culture of North Africa) she did an excellent job of giving me a sense of the sheer enormity of the continent and the seemingly rich, infinite sub-strata of languages and cultures that it holds. And the clothes! As someone who's wardrobe consists of black, white, and brown...I found the sheer variety, color, and detail of the West African women's clothing deeply fascinating and inspiring.
As for indigo -- its definition takes on many shapes as the book progresses. It is simply a color, then a livelihood, then a political tool, then an art medium, then a link to the rapidly vanishing African past, then a euphemism for life, death, and everything in-between. And McKinley's quest for indigo becomes a quest for herself, for meaning. The ending is very satisfying but with so much left unsaid, it leaves the reader with the hope that this story is far from over. More please!
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