DNFing books, Dream Count & more

The Reading Nook #17

Mar 31, 2025

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What kind of reading month was it?

It was both satisfying and lacking. There were times when I was immersed in a book and thoroughly enjoyed myself and there were times when none of the books I picked up appealed to me and I kept starting and stopping, like a faulty engine that can’t decide if it wants to stay on or off.

On DNF(did not finish)ing and the shame/guilt attached

I used to be one of those people who always finished every book they start. No matter how terrible the book was or how much I disliked it, I always felt like I had to finish it, as if it was an unwritten rule. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago, that I realised quitting books isn’t a bad thing. It’s actually a brave choice to let go of a book that doesn’t interest you. And like Austin Kleon said, “When it comes to books, quitters finish more.” So I created my Goodreads ‘DNF’ list and began putting books in it.

But when I tag a book as DNF, I occassionally feel a kind of way. Sometimes it’s shame over disliking a widely acclaimed book and other times it’s guilt that I found a book a loved one recommended boring.

This month, I excitedly started my first Haruki Murakami book; his short story collection Men Without Women. I also started Matyr! by Kaveh Akbar. Before I start a book, I usually skim through reviews from my Goodreads friends to get a sense of what to expect. Men Without Women had good reviews and Matyr! had excellent reviews. But I DNFed both. With Matyr! I pushed myself to read on because I felt I should like it since my mutuals did and even extolled it. And because I didn’t connect with the book, I felt like I wasn’t ‘intellectual enough’ to see the splendour that everyone else was seeing.

I’ve decided these fleeting negative feelings are more endurable than trudging through a book I’m not enjoying. I’m also accepting that it’s completely fine for a book that appeals to so many people not to appeal to me because my goal is to create a reading experience that is fully and genuinely mine. So, I hope to DNF more shamelessly.

March Reading Journey

A Woman is No Man by Etaf Rum

I read Evil Eye, another book by this author, and loved it so I wanted to read her other book. This novel focuses on the lives of Palestinian women. It follows three different generations of women: Isra, Deya and Fareeda. Isra is the only daughter of a traditional Palestinian couple and is reminded at every turn that her place in their home is temporary. Her life is uprooted when at 17, she is married off to a Palestinian man who lives in America and she has to leave all she has ever known behind. Isra has hopes that America will be a better place for women like her, but she is disappointed by the life she meets. Years later, we meet her daughter Deya who is born and raised in America but still struggles with the same plights as her mother. Deya battles with her culture and her desire for more. Lastly, there is Fareeda, Isra’s mother-in-law and Deya’s grandmother. Her perspective is juxtaposed with both Isra’s and Deya’s and we see things from the point-of-view of a woman steeped in tradition. We see how her beliefs interact and impact her relationship with the younger women in her family. This book did an amazing job in portraying the lives of average Palestinian women, their struggles and how tradition permeates and affects every aspect of their lives.

The Parlour Wife by Foluso Agbaje

I absolutely adored the cover of this book and I was sold when I saw it was historical fiction. There isn’t a lot of Nigerian historical fiction especially ones centred on women. The Parlour Wife is set in colonial Lagos, Nigeria, between 1939 and the mid 1940s. The novel opens with the 18th birthday of our protagonist Kehinde and her twin brother Taiwo. Kehinde is raised by loving parents but their kindness doesn’t blot out their inherent sexist ideals. Because her parents couldn’t afford to keep both children in school, Kehinde relinquishes her final year of secondary school for her brother and is to be married off as a third wife to Mr Ogunjobi, a wealthy businessman who is older than her father. Kehinde has received a dream job offer: to work at the West African Pilot, a leftist newspaper founded by Nnamdi Azikiwe, but this doesn’t fit the blueprint created for her. The story follows Kehinde as she navigates being a ‘parlour wife’ (whose purpose, amongst other wifely duties, is to be displayed to guests in the parlour) with her ambitions of being a writer and her dreams of changing women’s lives. The author defly captured the setting of this story and I enjoyed getting a glimpse into the impact of the second world war on a colony. I really enjoyed reading this but felt as if the author held back with the conflict and watered down parts where she could have taken advantage of the tension to create a stronger story.

Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Like many Nigerian girls and women, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie means a lot to me. Her books, along with her brazen declaration of feminism in our blatantly misogynistic country Nigeria, was exciting and inspiring to teenaged me who loved reading, dreamed of becoming a writer and was just discovering feminism. So I was elated when I heard about the new book.

Dream Count follows four women: Chiamaka (Chia), a wealthy travel writer who lives in America; her best friend Zikora, a lawyer who also lives in America; Kadiatou, Chia’s housekeeper who is a Guinean immigrant and Omelogor, Chia’s cousin, who has found huge success in the banking industry and lives in Abuja, Nigeria.

The book is set in lockdown but does a lot of time travelling back and forth and focuses on one of each woman’s story at a time, starting out with Chia, the thread that joins all of these women’s lives. Chia’s part of the book is mainly her reflecting on her many romantic relationships with different shades of men. Zikora’s story similarly focuses on her romantic relationships, how her intense desire for marriage and motherhood impacted them and eventually her experience with single motherhood. Kadiatou’s narrative was dissimilar from the rest because her experiences are vastly different. Her story shows her childhood in a small Guinean village, her experience with poverty, loss, female genital mutilation, etc., and then her journey to and stay in America. Last is Omelogor, the confident and no-nonsense finance expert. We get a glimpse into the life she has built for herself, her minimal romantic relationships, and watch her grapple with whether it is all enough.

I think this book had complex (and utterly annoying) characters and I loved reading about Nigerian and African women—I liked Kadiatou and Omelogor’s stories the most. And although there are parts of the book I thoroughly enjoyed, there were also parts I felt dragged on longer than necessary (especially with Chia). I enjoyed reading this, but not as much as I thought I would.

Here is an interesting conversation about the book with so many points I agree with: