Arrow of God

Drums are a critical element of communication in Ibo culture. Messages sent out with drums contrast with British written communications, which can be rewritten within Achebe’s pages and which anyone can access. Ezeulu insists that Oduche “must learn [English] until [he] can write it with [his] left hand” (189), despite knowing that his own community’s forms of communication are more important.

When Winterbottom hears drums from afar, they make him think of “unspeakable rites” and “the heart-beat of the African darkness” (30). This mystical language runs counter to the reality that drums mostly bring communities together, through messaging, and then set the rhythm for local celebrations. As they grow louder, energy builds. The drums are part of the rhythm of life in Umuaro, but they signify events as significant and universal as birth, death, or the need for a meeting.

Within the Umuaro community, the “king of all drums” (70) is deeply respected. The passion with which he beats the drum inspires other around him to draw energy. Drums create a sense of performance and divinity, especially in the moments across the text when deities reveal themselves. 

When mortal bodies wear masks, in Umuaro, they transform into deities. Ancestral masks are an important part of ceremonies, masks that have their own names and carry significant power. It is also a source of mystery: no one really knows how a Mask transforms its wearer into one with a different kind of power. Arrow of God takes its reader inside the experience of wearing a mask, especially through Obika, to show that wearing one is not merely a chance to act like a deity but is a transformative experience.

Masks also inspire awe in those who view them. Ezeulu gives his sons the advice that “the world is like a Mask dancing. If you want to see it well you do not stand in one place” (46). He cautions them to watch the white man, whose power is also mysterious, as if they were watching a Mask with hidden power. To look at it simply as a familiar man playing dress-up, as the villagers increasingly tend to do, is dangerous. Masks, in Arrow of God, stand for the mystery and unpredictable power that surrounds human existence. Not to be attuned to it is to endanger oneself and one’s family.

Edogo, Ezeulu’s eldest son, carves masks. Although “there were other carvers in Umuaro besides him” who might do the work even better than he does, he has “a reputation for finishing his work on time” (50). He recognizes the subtle differences between masks that release different kinds of energies and transform into excellent masks as they move. Edogo’s struggle with his own father’s divinity (and the degree of it) connects to his own immersion in the world of masks: because he looks at them constantly, conceiving of their power, he must constantly face the line between man and god.