"So it goes."

There is so much emotion and so many important themes packed into SPEAK NO EVIL, it's impossible to properly cover everything Uzodinma Iweala touches upon. Any one of the themes could be a full novel, so when we leap into this book, it's a bit like leaping into a boiling pot of water. That felt uncomfortable and even false at the beginning. By the end it all fit into place.

First and foremost, it's a book about a young gay black man. Niru is the privileged son of Nigerian immigrants living in Washington DC. He is as American as apple pie, but his father still calls Nigeria "home" and like many immigrant parents, he worries that his son is becoming too American. This American influence is a conflict that runs through most immigrant families and yet it's always individual. It's treated both seriously and with humor. It's easy to imagine any of the words coming from many people living in similar situations.

Then there is the story of a young black man who lives in Washington, drives a nice car, attends a private school. His best friend Meredith is white, and it is within the context of a teenaged sexual encounter that he reveals he is gay. Meredith does what any young liberal BFF would do and signs him up for all the gay dating apps. She's preternaturally optimistic and blind to the conflict that might come from jumping with two feet and no thought.

Niru wants to stay rooted in his family and community, but he is who he is. Steeped in Christianity, headed to Harvard, Niru is torn between love for his family, long-held beliefs, comfort with the way things are and his sexuality. They don't seem to be allowed to fit together. This is made clear when his father drags him to Nigeria where Reverend Olumide has found people who can "deliver" him and "clear this abomination" from Niru.

He is angry with Meredith, blames her meddling, rails against his parents, then wonders if spiritual counseling might not be helpful? He wants to meet men, fantasizes about being away at school where he can meet them, then wonders if he is truly abominable. Maybe he has spent too much time in the US soaking up awful things. Maybe a week with Nigerian prayer warriors will cure him? Or not. Niru is clearly torn and conflicted. His friendship with Meredith is strained to the point of breaking.

Then something happens and the tone of the book changes in every way. The story of a young gay man's struggle for individuality and belonging morphs into something else entirely. The narrator changes and everything is thrown into a different light. The issues remain but are now on a back burner. The angles have all changed. It is abrupt but didn't knock me away from the book. Instead it drew me in.

In many ways this is an extraordinary book. Every character is in serious conflict. There are no easy answers ripped from slogans here. No fake happy endings or flat personas. Both Meredith and especially his parents, who could have become caricatures in less deft hands, are fully-formed. The change of narrator and of plot to a large extent could have been a train wreck, but it worked for me. I cared about the characters, and if I didn't like them at first, I felt empathy for all by the end. It is a weighty book, with loads of heavy issues, treated with varying heft at various times. Nothing is solved, but it's all laid bare, asking the reader to understand.