Homegoing: Intentional Clichés 

by Maddy Nienow

May 2022


I have had a relatively easy life. I have not had the gut wrenching moments where I do not know how to move forward, so when I read truly mesmerizing stories of hardships, I pause to take it in. This year I read the tales from Yaa Gyasi, a Ghanaian-American who wrote a novel of a bloodline that began in the beginning of the slave trade all the way through modern day. Although her characters may be made up, the history that started a few centuries ago are real difficulties that are relevant today that are emphasized through overused phrases and plots, but these moments make her point clear.  

In her novel there are multiple cliché moments, but it adds to the novel as a whole. Gyasi’s implementation of these clichés shows that they occurred so often in the past, that the phrases and the events themselves are still prominent in today’s culture. There are some things that don’t change over time, and clichés are born from this. Isabel Wilkerson uses the quote from Gyasi, “You sound like a white girl,” to prove that she uses many clichés, but I think it shows how even over time some things still need to be addressed. These clichés point out the continuous problems that still have not been fixed.

Similarly to Wilkerson, Laura Miller writes that Gyasi made her characters “retreat into love and family but then to show how history will, inevitably, trample that dream.” Miller believes that the characters have a sense of love in their family but only betray it in the end. However this is not completely true. Abena and her father, James, are finally honest with each other at the end of her chapter. He explains how he is happy with his life and wouldn’t change anything he has done. This statement is in response to Abena leaving her family to pursue her own future, just as James did. His support only comes from love and doesn’t feel his dream is abandoned, as Miller claims it to be. 

Erin Vanderhoof writes how Gyasi moved from Ghana, at 2 years old, and landed in Alabama, where she calls home. When I first read this I realized Gyasi incorporated herself into her book. Marjorie, a character, is a girl who came from Ghana and is living in the south, where slavery is abolished but left a lasting scar. Incorporating herself through the character Marjorie, Gyasi is able to have a deeper connection and understanding with the novel as a whole. This is also recognized by the readers, so I can only imagine the rush Gyasi feels when she reads Marjorie’s chapter. She [Marjorie] faces difficulties with having ties to Ghana and to Alabama. Caught between both societies but not included fully in either, she faces hardship to find her place in the world. Her displacement from both places touches on the meaning of the novel that Gyasi incorporates throughout each chapter, Marjorie’s feeling of being an ‘outcast’ which is also considered a cliché. Gyasi’s usage of this cliché alludes to the idea that there are always moments when a person feels out of place until they are met with love. Specifically with Marjorie, she finally is free when she feels unjudged as she floats atop of the water off of the beach in Ghana. I think this meaning of the work of being lonely without freedom is strengthened as Gyasi comes to a close in her novel.