Adichie's Use Of Figurative Language

This clever use of figurative language continues when Adichie describes Ginika after a dialogue exchange, “There was a metallic, unfamiliar glamour in her gauntness, her olive skin, her short skirt that had risen up, barely covering her crotch, her straight-straight hair that she kept tucking behind her ears, blonde streaks shiny in the sunlight” (150). This sentence, as long and detailed as it is, gave me an idea of who Ginika had transformed into: an immigrant like Ifemelu, but one that had adapted to an American lifestyle quickly. And this was done by the hyperbole: the metallic, unfamiliar glamour, which is followed by specific detail. Adichie could have easily described Ginika’s behavior in a different way, perhaps using the short similes she did in the past with Obinze. However, the style is different here—giving us this striking language in the middle of the passage instead of the end. Both of these examples are one sentence and all of this description packed into one exaggerated sentence proves to have a clear impact on readers. We are struck by the language, by the way American women appear to an immigrant. I did note, though, that the figurative language is not
It makes readers curious about what the writer meant instead of curious about Ifemelu. However, the use of figurative language here showed me the boundaries the writer surpasses. When Adichie wants to use simple similes to describe another character’s actions, she does. When she wants to use layered figurative language that is at times hard to unravel and understand, she does. Almost always, though, she saves her burst of creativity for the end of the passages— showing readers that she is in fact doing what she wants. It was helpful to note, too, that even though this layered figurative language did not have the same effect that most of the others did on me and perhaps other readers, Adichie trusts us to dissect it on our