Mengestu’s How to Read the Air

How to Read the Air seems, at first, like any other book about the immigrant experience. Published in 2010, this book was written by Dinaw Mengestu; an Ethiopian American who was praised for his first novel, The Beautiful Things that Heaven Bears. 

It’s on the heels of this success that he wrote How to Read the Air, which, much like his first work, explores how Ethiopians are adjusting to life in the United States. 

And even though Mengestu was criticized for repeatedly writing about immigration and the complexities of diaspora life, there is a lesson in his second book that has been severely overlooked. 

Especially by readers here at home. 

So, let’s get into it. 

How to Read the Air follows the life of Yosef and Mariam, a husband and wife that migrate to the United States in search of a better life. 

Their expectations, as hopeful as they were grand, would soon be tempered by some harsh realities. Whether it was racial prejudice, social exclusion or the economic hardships they faced, their time in the United States was not at all what they thought it would be. 

In time, they would not only begin to resent each other. They would also feel frustrated, isolated and come to regret their decision to leave Ethiopia.

And as their marriage takes the brunt of these feelings, they would have a son called Jonas. Who, like them, would have a complicated relationship with both Ethiopia and the United States. 

Now some readers have blamed Yosef for his family’s discontent, as his unpredictable and violent ways were too much for his dependent wife and vulnerable son. 

Others have chosen to blame Mariam, as her emotionally guarded attitude did not help Jonas understand why he felt so anxious and alienated in the United States. 

But such readings tend to overlook, or at the very least downplay, one of the book's most important lesson.

You can, for example, find this lesson in this quote from Mariam: 

“No one had ever told me what happened in those places. The only thing we had ever really learned in school about America was that it was very rich…” 

You can also find this lesson in Yosef’s views on his move to the United States. And as his certainty of having a comfortable life in the West was met with the painful reality of what waited for him, he would say this: 

“You have no idea what I’ve been through. If I could start all over again I would. I’d go back to my father’s house and I’d stay there forever. I’d become a farmer. I’d die in the same place I was born.”

But, most importantly, you see this lesson crystalizing in the reflections of their son. Whether it’s seeing how much his parents sacrificed, how much they were unhappy or how they ultimately resented each other, Jonas slowly realizes what causes such profound disappointment in his, and many other, immigrant households: 

“When it came to Europe or America, men supposedly hardened by time and experience were susceptible to almost childish fantasies. They assigned to these faraway lands all the ideals of benevolence and good governance lacking in their own, because who among us doesn't want to believe that such places exist."

This, in my mind, is what makes this book so special. 

And as Ethiopian readers continue to view this novel as a story about the failings of two unlucky immigrants, a more nuanced reading would not only be insightful to us. 

It would also be extremely useful.  

For we would learn an important lesson. A lesson that Dinaw Mengestu is trying to teach us. 

A lesson on How to Read the Air. 

For one of the main reasons why so many immigrant dreams turn into diasporic discontent is because we don't care to examine our deeply held assumptions about the West and what life is really like there. 

And the more we delude ourselves for the sake of our ambition, our idealism and our deep longing for a better life, the more we, and our loved ones, suffer the brunt of our uninformed, unrealistic and unrealized expectations. 

So the next time you find yourself daydreaming about your imagined life in the West, do yourself and your loved ones a favor: 

Try to remember Dinaw Mengestu’s How to Read the Air. Try to learn from Yosef, Mariam and Jonas.  

Try to understand, objectively, what life is really like in these places that you have placed so much faith in. 

Try to read about these societies. Try to ask those diasporas that are willing to openly and honestly tell you about their adoptive countries. And even if you don't like what you read or hear, don't be so quick to dismiss the lived experiences of so many people for the sake of unchecked ambition. 

Never forget that it’s easy to doubt everything when you know nothing.

So try to see the value in being critical of your preconceived ideas. Make it a habit to never substitute your informed judgment with your naive assumptions or the unexamined beliefs of others.

And the more you do that, the more your loved ones will thank you for it. 

For you are one step closer to avoiding the type of disappointment, frustration and resentment that is as common as it’s thinly veiled in our diaspora community.