“But when my father noticed that I could not do any work more than to drink, he engaged an expert palm-wine tapster for me; he had no other work more than to tap palm-wine every day.”

The Drinkard is presented as an entitled, indolent figure who is content to dedicate his life to the hedonistic practice of drinking vast quantities of palm-wine. This behavior, however, is enabled by his father. With his considerable resources, the Drinkard’s father is willing to indulge his son’s hedonism. More than just approving of his son’s behavior, he hires a tapster to enable his son to consume even more palm-wine. The novel suggests, in this manner, that the Drinkard’s entitlement and indolence are a product of his upbringing rather than a random manifestation.

“When it was early in the morning of the next day, I had no palm-wine to drink at all, and throughout that day I felt not so happy as before; I was seriously sat down in my parlour, but when it was the third day that I had no palm-wine at all, all my friends did not come to my house again, they left me there alone, because there was no palm-wine for them to drink.”

This passage highlights the Drinkard’s dependency on palm-wine, equating its absence with deep unhappiness and social isolation. His friends, purely companions in drink, abandon him immediately, reinforcing the superficiality of his relationships. The addiction is the central, organizing principle of his social existence, an existence which is as indulgent and hedonistic as it is superficial.

“He told me to go and bring ‘Death’ from his house with the net.”

This command from the old god sets up the Drinkard’s first major trial, a task of mythological proportions. The challenge to capture a powerful abstract entity like Death establishes the surreal, high-stakes nature of the journey. It showcases a world where supernatural beings and allegorical figures are tangible forces that the protagonist must confront directly using his magical juju.

“As they were travelling along in this endless forest then the complete gentleman in the market that the lady was following, began to return the hired parts of his body to the owners and he was paying them the rentage money.”

This sentence marks the beginning of a gruesome and iconic transformation, revealing the complete gentleman as a composite being. The casual, transactional language—“hired parts” and “rentage money”—contrasts with the imagery of bodily dismemberment. This scene encapsulates the idea of deceptive appearances, illustrating the dangers of judging based on superficial beauty.

“I could not blame the lady for following the Skull as a complete gentleman to his house at all. Because if I were a lady, no doubt I would follow him to wherever he would go, and still as I was a man I would jealous him more than that, because if this gentleman went to the battle field, surely, enemy would not kill him or capture him and if bombers saw him in a town which was to be bombed, they would not throw bombs on his presence, and if they did throw it, the bomb itself would not explode until this gentleman would leave that town, because of his beauty.”

The Drinkard’s justification reveals a worldview wherein beauty confers supernatural power, blending folkloric sensibilities with modern technology like bombers. This anachronistic juxtaposition is a hallmark of the novel’s style, showing how Western technological concepts are absorbed and reinterpreted within a traditional mythological framework, creating a unique narrative logic.

“[A]t the same time there appeared a half-bodied baby, he was talking with a lower voice like a telephone.”

This simile merges a supernatural being with modern technology, a hallmark of Tutuola’s syncretic style and a reflection of the theme of The Encroachment of Western Technology. The comparison grounds the fantastical event in a recognizable, contemporary context for his readers, creating a surreal image where ancient magic and 20th-century inventions coexist.

“When we carried him to the place, there we saw the creatures that we called ‘Drum, Song and Dance’ personally and these three creatures were living creatures as ours.”

Tutuola employs personification by treating abstract concepts of performance as tangible, living characters who directly intervene in the plot. This literary device reflects a worldview whereby concepts have physical presence and agency, deepening the novel’s mythological atmosphere. The creatures provide a deus ex machina-style resolution, freeing the Drinkard from a problem he cannot solve himself.

“I commanded one juju which was given me by a kind spirit who was a friend of mine and at once the juju changed me to a big canoe.”

This passage highlights the recurring motif of Supernatural Transformation as the Drinkard’s primary problem-solving tool. His use of magic for a commercial enterprise subverts the trope of a hero who relies on wit or strength. This constant reliance on external power frames him as an anti-hero whose success is enabled by magical charms, not innate virtue.

“So I became a big bird like an aeroplane and flew away with my wife, I flew for 5 hours before I came down, after I had left the dangerous area, although it was 4 o’clock before I came down, then we began to trek the remaining journey by land or foot.”

This simile blends traditional magic with 20th-century technology, a hallmark of Tutuola’s style. The Drinkard’s casual tone treats this extraordinary transformation as a common, practical solution, normalizing the surreal collision of worlds. This nonchalant acceptance of the fantastical reflects the protagonist’s resourcefulness within his bizarre journey and subverts epic quest tropes.

“[A]o if somebody continue to laugh with ‘Laugh’ himself, he or she would die or faint at once for long laughing, because laugh was his profession and he was feeding on it.”

This passage personifies an abstract emotion, turning laughter into a dangerous, living entity with a profession. This literalization of the abstract is central to the novel’s surreal logic. The idea that Laugh feeds on laughter suggests a parasitic relationship, transforming a joyous act into a life-threatening one, subverting conventional expectations.

“These unknown creatures were doing everything incorrectly, because there we saw that if one of them wanted to climb a tree, he would climb the ladder first before leaning it against that tree.”

This description establishes the illogical and perverse nature of the town’s inhabitants through absurdist imagery. Their inverted logic is a dark satire, showing the arbitrary nature of social conventions and creating an atmosphere of menace. By defining the town as a place where fundamental rules are broken, it subverts expectations.

“After they had cleared some of the hair, they left us there unloosened and went to grind pepper, after a while, they brought the pepper and rubbed our heads with it, then they lighted a thick rag with fire and tied it on the centre of our heads so that it nearly touched our heads.”

The Drinkard’s detached, factual tone contrasts with the horror of the torture being described, creating an unsettling effect. The specificity of the cruel acts—using broken glass, pepper, and fire—makes the scene visceral and emphasizes the extreme physical suffering inherent in the quest, pushing the characters to the brink of death.

“[W]e had ‘sold our death’ to somebody at the door for the sum of £70: 18: 6d and ‘lent our fear’ to somebody at the door as well on interest of £3: 10: 0d per month, so we did not care about death and we did not fear again.”

This quote treats deep metaphysical concepts as simple financial transactions, blending the spiritual with colonial bureaucracy. The use of British colonial-era pounds, shillings, and pence emphasizes the transactional nature of imperial bureaucracy, while also placing it in contract with the more fantastical, more abstract ideas of the local colonial subjects. The blending of the colonial and the colonized creates the fervent atmosphere of absurd, fantastical, and bureaucratic existence, a tension which imitates the struggles of life as a colonial subject.

“This would be a brief loss of woman, but a shorter separation of a man from lover.”

The wife’s statement is a piece of proverbial foreshadowing, suggesting she understands that the Drinkard’s apparent sacrifice will not be permanent because he has already sold his death. Her calm, poetic response demonstrates her wisdom and attunement to the supernatural logic of their world. This moment distinguishes her from her husband, who acts on magical power without such insight.

“But at last ‘Drum’ was beating himself till he reached heaven before he knew that he was out of the world and since that day he could not come to the world again.”

This passage offers a mythic explanation for the origin and transcendent power of music. The personified Drum literally beats himself into a celestial realm, transforming from a performer into a permanent part of the cosmos. This act blurs the line between art and the divine, suggesting that powerful creativity can alter reality.

“[B]ut my wife said that the man would be a—‘WONDERFUL HARD WORKER, BUT HE WOULD BE A WONDERFUL ROBBER IN FUTURE.’”

The wife’s capitalized prophecy highlights her wisdom and foreshadows the Pawn’s destructive nature. This warning introduces a recurring pattern in which supernatural aid has dangerous consequences, subverting the idea of a simple boon. Her foresight contrasts sharply with the Drinkard’s naivete, reinforcing her role as the more perceptive of the pair.

“This man thought now that the king was pleased that somebody killed his son in the farm and that was the reason why the king told the attendants to dress us and take us on a riding horse about in the town.”

This moment employs irony, as the prince’s killer misinterprets a pre-execution ritual as a celebration. His greedy desire for what he perceives as a reward leads him to confess, ensuring a just, if circuitous, outcome. The scene is a self-contained folktale, demonstrating the wise king’s cleverness and moral resolution.

“Then he told me that he could not follow me back to my town again, because a dead man could not live with alives and their characteristics would not be the same.”

This quote is the climax of the Drinkard’s quest, explicitly stating the theme of the uncrossable divide between life and death. The tapster’s explanation confirms that death is an irreversible state with its own incompatible reality. This realization marks the failure of the Drinkard’s primary goal, forcing his journey to pivot from retrieval to return.

“But when we saw that these dead babies did not care to branch for us then we stopped at the side for them to pass peacefully, but instead of that, they started to beat us with the sticks in their hands, then we began to run away inside the bush from these babies, although we did not care about any risk of that bush which might happen to us at night, because these dead babies were the most fearful creatures for us.”

The surreal image of aggressive dead babies subverts expectations of infant innocence, transforming them into terrifying figures. This encounter dramatically illustrates the hostility of the dead toward the living, reinforcing the theme of an uncrossable divide. The scene is an example of the author’s unique and nightmarish imagination.

“But when I thought within myself that he might harm us, then I performed one of my jujus and it changed my wife and our loads to a wooden-doll and I put it in my pocket.”

This passage highlights the Drinkard’s characteristic problem-solving method: relying on the external power of juju rather than personal courage or wit. The magical transformation emphasizes his unheroic nature, as he chooses not to fight, but rather to magically conceal his wife. The ease of this act emphasizes the fluid, surreal reality of the narrative world.

“But the whole people in the court insisted me to point out who was guilty among them all. Of course when I had thought it over for two hours, then I adjourned the judgement for a year, and the court closed for that day.”

The Drinkard’s decision to adjourn the case for a year highlights a clash between traditional Yoruba logic and the imposed structure of a Western-style court. This act subverts the expectation of a definitive legal resolution, showing a world where moral complexity defies simple judgment. The Drinkard’s journey, itself long and drawn out without a real resolution, is mirrored in his judgements.

“[O]f course, before they could do anything to me, I myself had changed into a flat pebble and was throwing myself along the way to my home town.”

This moment exemplifies the motif of supernatural transformation, the Drinkard’s primary survival tool. His metamorphosis into an inanimate object to escape danger emphasizes his complete reliance on juju rather than heroic virtues like courage. This repeated device subverts the epic hero archetype, presenting a protagonist who succeeds through magical means alone.

“One morning when I woke up from my bed, it was hard to open the door of my house, because all the people from various towns and villages had come and waited there to eat, even they were too numerous to count and before 9 o’clock my town could not contain strangers.”

The magical egg, a gift from the dead, is a symbol of miraculous but ultimately unsustainable solutions. The overwhelming response of the populace highlights the disruption caused by this supernatural intervention in the natural order. As easily as the Drinkard is able to resolve the famine, the crowd destroys, breaking the egg which has saved them.