Little Bee

Over the summer, I traveled up the Oregon coast, stopping in a number of small town bookstores. Over and over, the same book caught my eye, and I knew I’d stumbled onto something special. I’d Other Hand, by author Chris Cleave.

On the back of the book, among countless great reviews, I found a short description. It read, in a British accent, that they didn’t want to spoil anything, because Little Bee is a truly special story, and the found Little Bee, or, as it was published in the U.K., The magic of it lies in how it unfolds. The blurb set a comedic and cocky tone, which was completely misleading, and I was very unimpressed.

However, despite the unattractive confidence boasted on the back page, I was intrigued.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I ordered it the next day.

I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.

Little Bee is the story of two women, whose lives collide during a tragic incident on a beach in Nigeria. The book begins in England two years later, as the women continue to process and heal from that day. Gradually, the reader learns the horror of the situation they faced, while watching as their lives continue to weave together.

In American media, the United Kingdom’s politics are portrayed as Prime Ministers, Queens, and once in a while, a royal wedding that shows striking resemblance to the one in Cinderella. It’s hard to find any other representations: another side of the story, dare-I-say, the other hand.

I think it’s even less likely to remember to look.

That’s what I found so eye opening while reading Little Bee.  Through exposing some of England’s immigration policies, it offered another perspective, and served as a reminder that U.K. politics are just as damaging as America’s.

Yet, although the politics are a huge part of the plot, the real beauty of this story is how Chris Cleave reveals the complexities of human emotion in such subtle and poignant ways. For example, once in a while Little Bee will think about how she would explain things to the girls at home in Nigeria, imagining their disbelief at ordinary things like dirty magazines or televisions. By doing so, Cleave adds even more depth to her character–to the point that she seems like an old friend I’ve known for years, or a wise, story-telling grandma. I couldn’t be sure which.

Little Bee is a very important and meaningful book, and definitely worth overlooking the back blurb for.