OPINION - Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: a beautifully written triumph
The novel opens unglamorously in the middle of the pandemic, with Chia worrying about having touched her face before washing her hands and having dismal discussions over Zoom about loo roll shortages. Yet lockdown is a vehicle for Chia to do that very 2020 thing: to pause and reflect. She looks back on a catalogue of failed romances which have culminated in her being 'confronted with the crime of singleness' in her forties, with relatives begging her to get IVF.
First there is Darnell, a moody intellectual who is contemptuous of Chia's frivolous travel writing and family money (her father is a wealthy businessman in Nigeria) yet also preoccupied with the spoils of it. Chia is constantly seeking the approval of Darnell and his sanctimonious academic friends, who are 'tribal, but anxiously so' and describe everything as 'problematic'. To them, Chia is a contradiction. As her cousin puts it: 'They can't stand rich people from poor countries, because it means they can't feel sorry for you.'
Others attempt to mould Chia into the person they think she ought to be: a New York editor expresses interest in her, but asks if she'll write about, say, the war in Sudan.
Our expectations are confounded in real time alongside the characters. There is Chuka, the man who seems so square, who wears his shirt tucked in even at weekends and reads books about leadership and project management. Chia has sex with him not because she wants to, but because 'he somehow deserved it, being so proper and attentive'. She thinks the sex will be pedestrian, yet he ends up proving her 'unutterably wrong'. Chia pivots from describing him as a strait-laced bore to admitting that 'Chuka was my old fashioned fantasy: a manly man'. Just as in real life, the characters' perceptions of each other are constantly overwriting themselves.
Half of a Yellow Sun
Adichie's second novel is about the Nigerian Civil War — it won the 2007 Women's Prize for fiction
Americanah
Her third, beautifully observed, novel follows Ifemelu as she moves from Nigeria to study in America
Notes on Grief
A non-fiction book published in 2021, after the death of her father, James Nwoye Adichie, in the first wave of Covid
Dream Count is Adichie's first novel since Americanah, which was published in 2013. If that was a coming-of-age story, then Dream Count examines what happens when the happily ever after doesn't quite go to plan. The author had writer's block in the years between the two novels, during which she had her first child. Adichie has spoken of the 'violence' and animalistic nature of childbirth, which is reflected in the novel through Zikora's own experience of feeling 'briefly and brutishly reduced' to an animal in the delivery room.
Adichie's fiction has a lightness of touch and never feels instructive
Women's bodies and the tribulations they go through are a constant theme. While Adichie is both political and politicised, her fiction has a lightness of touch that never feels instructive. Unlike Sally Rooney, whose books about love and relationships are punctuated by characters having lengthy discussions about socialist ideology which feel like authorial interjections, Adichie's writing about love and relationships naturally makes space for her feminism.
Adichie is the master of writing about feelings which are difficult to put a finger on, whether it's the 'exquisite ache of wanting to love a lovely person that you do not love,' or the way our minds work in the counterfactual when we think about regret. Chia, looking back on her failed relationships, says this: 'I grieved what I did not even know to be true, that there was someone out there who had passed me by, who might not just have loved me but have truly known me.'
Adichie often says she is preoccupied with telling the truth. How often you will read a line from Dream Count and think how utterly true it is.
Claudia Cockerell is editor of Londoner's Diary
Out now (4th Estate, £20)
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Yahoo
a day ago
- Yahoo
Kylan Darnell went viral during Bama Rush. Now, she's ready to talk about the toll it took.
On Aug. 6, 2022, Kylan Darnell, then a freshman at the University of Alabama, woke up with excited jitters. It was the first day of sorority recruitment, a milestone that she says felt like the start of adult life. Dressed in a carefully curated outfit — Gucci patterned shorts, a Zara top and a stack of Cartier, Louis Vuitton, Kendra Scott bracelets — she hit 'record' from her dorm room, posting an outfit video that launched her into virality. It marked the beginning of her persona as a sorority girl, one that would come to define her online brand once she joined Zeta Tau Alpha at the school. 'Hey y'all, today is the first day of Bama Rush and I am so excited,' Darnell shared in a TikTok as she walked through her outfit of the day, or #OOTD. 'I'm so excited for this new chapter of my life and I hope you stay tuned with me.' Nearly four years and more than a million followers later, Darnell has become the face of 'Rush Tok,' the nickname for the corner of the internet documenting sorority recruitment. But behind the brand deals, designer outfits and elaborate costumes, the process was taking a toll. 'When I did essentially get famous online, I was really vulnerable,' Darnell says. 'I didn't really know how to navigate it… I tried my best to be absolutely perfect.' Over the years, she's figured out ways to manage the pressure. But this year, some of the online negativity she faced crossed the line. In an Aug. 11 video, Darnell shared with her followers that she was taking a break from the recruitment process to focus on her mental health. 'I'm in a mental health spot where I've been struggling,' Darnell said in the recent video. 'I won't lie to you guys about it, like, I've just not been enjoying it…. if I was to go on there and show these outfits and like, keep going, I would be lying to you guys and myself.' More: The Bama Rush obsession is real: Inside the phenomena of OOTDs, sorority recruitment Navigating online fame at a young age The video sparked discourse about Darnell's journey as a public figure and a wider conversation about the rush experience. Sorority recruitment, or rush, is a multi-day process at colleges across the country where young women interested in joining a sorority meet current members of Greek organizations with the hope of receiving an invitation to join a chapter. The intensity and experience varies by school, but the ones that tend to go viral highlight over-the-top dance routines, packed schedules and make-it-or-break-it outfits. The sorority recruitment process was thrust into the spotlight with the rise of #RushTok — a TikTok trend that took off in 2021, largely centered around the University of Alabama. Girls like Darnell went viral by posting OOTDs for each round, dramatic Bid Day reveals, and later, behind-the-scenes glimpses of life inside their sorority houses. The phenomenon inspired a 2023 HBO Max documentary on the process and a new Lifetime special, "A Sorority Mom's Guide to Rush!" When Darnell posted that initial OOTD video, she didn't expect to be placed 'on a pedestal.' Years of pageants and dance recitals had prepared her for sorority life, but as the first woman in her family to enter the rush process, she says she went in 'completely clueless' about social media guidelines or the reputations between different houses. 'Whenever I go back and watch the rush videos, I kind of want to cry every time I watch them, because I look so scared,' Darnell says. Recruitment days are often in scorching temperatures, and might start as early as 7 or 8 a.m. after schedules are released for the day. Many girls bring rush bags from house to house full of the essentials — mints, bobby pins, dry shampoo, hairspray, oil blotting sheets, perfume, fans, portable phone chargers, Advil, floss and deodorant. 'It's very exhausting,' says sorority rush consultant Trisha Addicks. 'You have to process what sororities you're invited back to, also process some disappointment, a lot of times, and get ready to go and be positive and open minded for eight hours.' Addicks says the rush process can take a toll on one's self esteem. She still remembers when she first rushed a sorority in 1986 at the University of Georgia and opened up her Bid Day envelope to find out that no house accepted her. She ultimately joined a sorority the following year after rushing again. 'I was devastated,' Addicks says, adding those feelings stayed with her years later. 'I felt isolated. I was embarrassed; I was crying.' More: New, unscripted sorority rush show drops Aug. 11. Here's how to watch. 'What's online is not always the clear picture' When Addicks went through recruitment, girls lined up in a hallway to open their bids, learning about each sorority's reputation, and who eventually accepted which bid, through word of mouth. Now, choreographed dance videos and Hollywood-level productions, complete with brand partnerships, props, and elaborate costumes, bring millions of viewers into the process. Bid day videos capture young women squealing and crying with joy as they rip open their envelopes and sprint down sorority row to their new homes. Their captions amplify the day's excitement: 'BEST DAY OF MY LIFE,' says one video. 'HOME AT LAST AT PHI MU,' reads another. 'only the best go AXO,' another declares, sporting the sorority's hand signs. 'What makes the sting of rejection so much worse and the feelings of inadequacy and all of that, is because you're seeing other people on social media so excited, so happy, living their best lives, even though we all know that what's online is not always the clear picture,' Addicks says. Darnell says her experience was so genuine because she went in without preconceived notions, and she worries TikTok could set up unrealistic expectations for girls going through the same process. 'I feel bad because I've had so many girls in my DMs through the years text me and say, 'Hey, I'm gonna go to University of Alabama because of you, I've seen some of your videos, it looks so much fun, I want to live the way that you're living '' Darnell shared in a TikTok. In some ways, Darnell is reliving that process again through her younger sister Izzy, a freshman at the University of Alabama who shared her recruitment journey online throughout the week before ultimately revealing she dropped out of the process. Unlike her older sister, Izzy is coming into college with more than a million followers, upping the online scrutiny she's facing. Darnell shared that part of her decision to step back from rush was influenced by the negativity her younger sister was facing online. 'It's hard to watch any family member get picked on,' Darnell says. 'I started to become a mama bear, and I really had to take a step back and be like, 'OK, this is your process, not mine.'' There was a point in Darnell's life where her whole personality was her sorority, but as a senior, she's looking ahead to life after college. She hopes to pursue sports broadcasting. Online, it's been harder to separate her brand from sorority life. When she took a step back from posting Greek life content last year, rumors swirled that she had dropped Zeta, which she clarified is not the case. In recent days, users online have flooded Zeta social media accounts with comments asking about Darnell, to the point where Darnell asked the sorority's social media manager to delete comments. 'People thought that they were supporting me, but they didn't get that by going and commenting negative things on my friends pages, that just makes it awkward between us,' Darnell says. 'I had to take a step back after that.' If she could go back in time, 'I would tell my freshman self to really take it in and to appreciate being a freshman in college, but I would also tell myself to not take everything to heart,' Darnell says. 'Now I'm more comfortable in my own skin, I've learned so much about myself. I've got a different level of confidence than I had back then.' Rachel Hale's role covering Youth Mental Health at USA TODAY is supported by a partnership with Pivotal and Journalism Funding Partners. Funders do not provide editorial input. Reach her at rhale@ and @rachelleighhale on X. This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Sorority star Kylan Darnell was a RushTok sensation. It took a toll Solve the daily Crossword
USA Today
a day ago
- USA Today
Kylan Darnell went viral during Bama Rush. Now, she's ready to talk about the toll it took.
On Aug. 6, 2022, Kylan Darnell, then a freshman at the University of Alabama, woke up with excited jitters. It was the first day of sorority recruitment, a milestone that she says felt like the start of adult life. Dressed in a carefully curated outfit — Gucci patterned shorts, a Zara top and a stack of Cartier, Louis Vuitton, Kendra Scott bracelets — she hit 'record' from her dorm room, posting an outfit video that launched her into virality. It marked the beginning of her persona as a sorority girl, one that would come to define her online brand once she joined Zeta Tau Alpha at the school. 'Hey y'all, today is the first day of Bama Rush and I am so excited,' Darnell shared in a TikTok as she walked through her outfit of the day, or #OOTD. 'I'm so excited for this new chapter of my life and I hope you stay tuned with me.' Nearly four years and more than a million followers later, Darnell has become the face of 'Rush Tok,' the nickname for the corner of the internet documenting sorority recruitment. But behind the brand deals, designer outfits and elaborate costumes, the process was taking a toll. 'When I did essentially get famous online, I was really vulnerable,' Darnell says. 'I didn't really know how to navigate it… I tried my best to be absolutely perfect.' Over the years, she's figured out ways to manage the pressure. But this year, some of the online negativity she faced crossed the line. In an Aug. 11 video, Darnell shared with her followers that she was taking a break from the recruitment process to focus on her mental health. 'I'm in a mental health spot where I've been struggling,' Darnell said in the recent video. 'I won't lie to you guys about it, like, I've just not been enjoying it…. if I was to go on there and show these outfits and like, keep going, I would be lying to you guys and myself.' Taking a break, Love yall! #BamaRush #bamarushtok #bama More: The Bama Rush obsession is real: Inside the phenomena of OOTDs, sorority recruitment Navigating online fame at a young age The video sparked discourse about Darnell's journey as a public figure and a wider conversation about the rush experience. Sorority recruitment, or rush, is a multi-day process at colleges across the country where young women interested in joining a sorority meet current members of Greek organizations with the hope of receiving an invitation to join a chapter. The intensity and experience varies by school, but the ones that tend to go viral highlight over-the-top dance routines, packed schedules and make-it-or-break-it outfits. The sorority recruitment process was thrust into the spotlight with the rise of #RushTok — a TikTok trend that took off in 2021, largely centered around the University of Alabama. Girls like Darnell went viral by posting OOTDs for each round, dramatic Bid Day reveals, and later, behind-the-scenes glimpses of life inside their sorority houses. The phenomenon inspired a 2023 HBO Max documentary on the process and a new Lifetime special, "A Sorority Mom's Guide to Rush!" When Darnell posted that initial OOTD video, she didn't expect to be placed 'on a pedestal.' Years of pageants and dance recitals had prepared her for sorority life, but as the first woman in her family to enter the rush process, she says she went in 'completely clueless' about social media guidelines or the reputations between different houses. 'Whenever I go back and watch the rush videos, I kind of want to cry every time I watch them, because I look so scared,' Darnell says. Recruitment days are often in scorching temperatures, and might start as early as 7 or 8 a.m. after schedules are released for the day. Many girls bring rush bags from house to house full of the essentials — mints, bobby pins, dry shampoo, hairspray, oil blotting sheets, perfume, fans, portable phone chargers, Advil, floss and deodorant. 'It's very exhausting,' says sorority rush consultant Trisha Addicks. 'You have to process what sororities you're invited back to, also process some disappointment, a lot of times, and get ready to go and be positive and open minded for eight hours.' Addicks says the rush process can take a toll on one's self esteem. She still remembers when she first rushed a sorority in 1986 at the University of Georgia and opened up her Bid Day envelope to find out that no house accepted her. She ultimately joined a sorority the following year after rushing again. 'I was devastated,' Addicks says, adding those feelings stayed with her years later. 'I felt isolated. I was embarrassed; I was crying.' More: New, unscripted sorority rush show drops Aug. 11. Here's how to watch. 'What's online is not always the clear picture' When Addicks went through recruitment, girls lined up in a hallway to open their bids, learning about each sorority's reputation, and who eventually accepted which bid, through word of mouth. Now, choreographed dance videos and Hollywood-level productions, complete with brand partnerships, props, and elaborate costumes, bring millions of viewers into the process. RAIN OR SHINE, WE'RE GETTING SET FOR PC 25 💝👏💃 WORK WEEK DAY TWO!!! #RUSHAPHI #UGA #RECRUITMENT #RUSHTOK #ALPHAPHI #ATHENSGA Bid day videos capture young women squealing and crying with joy as they rip open their envelopes and sprint down sorority row to their new homes. Their captions amplify the day's excitement: 'BEST DAY OF MY LIFE,' says one video. 'HOME AT LAST AT PHI MU,' reads another. 'only the best go AXO,' another declares, sporting the sorority's hand signs. Never been happier #bama #banarush #bamarushtok 'What makes the sting of rejection so much worse and the feelings of inadequacy and all of that, is because you're seeing other people on social media so excited, so happy, living their best lives, even though we all know that what's online is not always the clear picture,' Addicks says. Darnell says her experience was so genuine because she went in without preconceived notions, and she worries TikTok could set up unrealistic expectations for girls going through the same process. 'I feel bad because I've had so many girls in my DMs through the years text me and say, 'Hey, I'm gonna go to University of Alabama because of you, I've seen some of your videos, it looks so much fun, I want to live the way that you're living '' Darnell shared in a TikTok. In some ways, Darnell is reliving that process again through her younger sister Izzy, a freshman at the University of Alabama who shared her recruitment journey online throughout the week before ultimately revealing she dropped out of the process. Unlike her older sister, Izzy is coming into college with more than a million followers, upping the online scrutiny she's facing. Darnell shared that part of her decision to step back from rush was influenced by the negativity her younger sister was facing online. 'It's hard to watch any family member get picked on,' Darnell says. 'I started to become a mama bear, and I really had to take a step back and be like, 'OK, this is your process, not mine.'' There was a point in Darnell's life where her whole personality was her sorority, but as a senior, she's looking ahead to life after college. She hopes to pursue sports broadcasting. Online, it's been harder to separate her brand from sorority life. When she took a step back from posting Greek life content last year, rumors swirled that she had dropped Zeta, which she clarified is not the case. In recent days, users online have flooded Zeta social media accounts with comments asking about Darnell, to the point where Darnell asked the sorority's social media manager to delete comments. 'People thought that they were supporting me, but they didn't get that by going and commenting negative things on my friends pages, that just makes it awkward between us,' Darnell says. 'I had to take a step back after that.' If she could go back in time, 'I would tell my freshman self to really take it in and to appreciate being a freshman in college, but I would also tell myself to not take everything to heart,' Darnell says. 'Now I'm more comfortable in my own skin, I've learned so much about myself. I've got a different level of confidence than I had back then.' Rachel Hale's role covering Youth Mental Health at USA TODAY is supported by a partnership with Pivotal and Journalism Funding Partners. Funders do not provide editorial input. Reach her at rhale@ and @rachelleighhale on X.
3 days ago
RushTok backlash: Why sororities aren't letting prospects post
TUSCALOOSA, Ala. -- Kylan Darnell became an overnight celebrity in the TikTok niche that documents the glitzy, ritualistic recruitment process for sororities. As a 21-year-old rising senior four years later, she's taking more of her sorority life offline. Darnell has until now been the embodiment of RushTok, a week-long marathon that has teens at schools around the country meticulously documenting their efforts to land a cherished spot in a sorority during the colorful, girly and enigmatic recruitment process known as rush week. Reactions to the content that once catapulted her to fame — depicting her life as a Zeta Tau Alpha member at the University of Alabama — had become so negative that it was affecting her mental health, she said. 'This year it was just like a whole different level of hate," Darnell said. Citing a need to protect prospects from harassment, many sororities have made similar moves, issuing a de facto ban against talking to the press or posting on social media during rush week at Alabama, where almost 13,000 students participate in the nation's largest on-campus Greek life. Across the country, rush is typically a 10-day event where 'prospective new members' try out sororities through rounds of activities prescribing a strict slate of outfits and etiquette. In the lead-up, girls often submit "social resumes" and letters of recommendation from sorority alums. Participation often requires an eye-opening price tag. After spending sometimes tens of thousands of dollars on outfits, makeup and plane tickets, each of this week's 2,600 recruits paid $550 to participate. It's non-refundable if they don't get picked. If accepted, they'll pay an average $8,400 a semester to live in the sorority house, or $4,100 if they live elsewhere, according to the Alabama Panhellenic Association. The pressure can be so intense that an industry of consultants now helps girls navigate the often mysterious criteria for landing a desired sorority. Some charge up to $10,000 for months of services that can begin in high school. Throughout rush, many events are invite-only. At any point, girls can get a dreaded call informing them they've been dropped — that a sorority is no longer interested in letting them join. Matches are finally made on bid day as prospects rank top choices and sororities make offers. Morgan Cadenhead, now 20, gained such an audience on RushTok despite being dropped that she covered most of her tuition with income from social media. Then came the social cost as she was slammed online for criticizing Greek life. Now the marketing major — featured on Lifetime's 'Sorority Mom's Guide to Rush!' — said she's looking for offline work. A fixation with rush was renewed when sororities resumed in-person recruiting after the pandemic. Social media became flooded with 'outfit of the day' and 'get ready with me' videos showing sorority members and recruits in well-lit rooms, sometimes flaunting exorbitantly priced designer wear or pieces purchased on Amazon, always precisely curated. Alabama's Greek life got attention before, when its traditionally white sororities racially integrated, accepting their first Black members in 2013. Targeted by protests following allegations of racial discrimination, the university agreed with the Justice Department in 2016 to encourage diversity. Today, Black students outside of traditionally Black sororities and fraternities represent 2% of the total Greek membership, the university website says. Meanwhile, online attention to rush has led to books, a polarizing documentary and the reality television series, widening the appeal of sororities in the South in particular, according to Lorie Stefaneli, a New York City-based consultant who flies to Tuscaloosa each year for rush. Stefaneli coaches girls from around the country, and about a third of her clients enroll at Alabama. She says many are drawn by the vibrant depictions of sisterhood, showing female friendships that can ensure girls feel seen and supported. 'That's the reason why a lot of them want to go to Alabama, is because they see it on TikTok,' Stefaneli said. If they gain enough followers to become social influencers, RushTok participants can earn ad revenue and brand deals. Darnell's posts brought her financial independence, more than covering the $58,000 it costs her annually to attend Alabama from out-of-state. Rush can be fun and help girls build confidence, but it's also an 'emotional rollercoaster,' especially for girls who feel they need to reveal themselves to a massive audience, Stefaneli said. She answers phone calls at all hours of the night during rush week. 'I'm literally a therapist, I'm talking these girls down from a ledge,' she said. Numerous incoming freshmen told The Associated Press this week that they were expressly prohibited from speaking with the media or even posting about rush at Alabama. Darnell said the most selective 'Old Row' houses will automatically drop prospects who do. 'Now a lot of girls just come to the university to be influencers,' she said. 'It kind of gets in the way of sisterhood.' Some incoming freshmen — including Darnell's 19-year-old sister Izzy, with a vast social media following of her own — have chosen to post anyway, satisfying a demand that can reach millions of views within days. Izzy Darnell — who wouldn't share her choices for sorority ahead of Saturday's bid day — said her older sister's acumen has equipped her to navigate criticism and potentially predatory business deals. But she worries about how other girls might handle the fame and money. 'I just fear what some girls will do because they think they have to,' Izzy Darnell said.
