Out of Africa by Isak Dinesen

Published 1937 · 400 pages · 105,096 words · about 6 hours at an average pace · memoir, literary nonfiction, travel writing, autobiography

How hard is Out of Africa to read?

Out of Africa scores 29 out of 100 for difficulty on ReadingRate, making it relatively accessible. The score is a weighted composite of nine measures: four of how hard the prose is to parse, five of how hard the meaning is to extract.

Vocabulary: 60 out of 100
The text employs a sophisticated and often formal vocabulary, including words like 'limpid,' 'luxuriance,' 'scintillated,' 'precipitous,' 'hypotaxis,' and 'congenial upheaping.' While not laden with highly archaic or invented terms like 'Ulysses,' it frequently uses precise, elevated language and occasional specialized terms (e.g., 'shambas,' 'Morani,' 'tembu') that require a strong vocabulary or contextual inference. This places it above 'The Great Gatsby' but below 'Moby-Dick' in its demands.
Sentence structure: 65 out of 100
Dinesen's prose is characterized by long, elaborate sentences that often feature multiple subordinate clauses and parenthetical phrases, requiring sustained reader attention. While generally navigable, these structures can be demanding, particularly when combined with extensive descriptive passages. The syntax is more complex than 'The Great Gatsby' but less labyrinthine than the extreme hypotaxis found in 'The Golden Bowl'.
Abstraction: 70 out of 100
Beyond its concrete descriptions of farm life and African landscapes, the narrative frequently delves into philosophical and theoretical content, exploring themes of human nature, cultural differences, justice, and the meaning of existence. The author often abstracts from specific events to broader insights, such as the 'mythological or theological mentality' of the Natives or the 'infinite freedom' of the African night. This level of conceptual engagement is higher than 'The Great Gatsby' and approaches the philosophical depth of '2666'.
Information density: 68 out of 100
The text is rich with layered observations, detailed descriptions, and interwoven reflections, presenting a high volume of concepts and sensory details per page. The narrative moves fluidly between personal anecdotes, cultural analysis, and vivid imagery without much 'breathing room,' demanding continuous engagement from the reader. This density is considerably higher than a plot-driven novel, requiring careful attention to absorb the full scope of the author's insights.
Narrative indirection: 45 out of 100
The narrator's voice is generally direct, explicitly stating observations, feelings, and interpretations of events and people. While she acknowledges the inscrutability of the Natives and the mysteries of Africa, she often provides her own philosophical framework or interpretation for these ambiguities, such as her concept of 'brass-serpenting.' This direct interpretive guidance keeps the reader from having to infer meaning as extensively as in works with unreliable narrators like 'Lolita'.
Symbolic density: 80 out of 100
The text is exceptionally rich in symbolic meaning, frequently elevating literal events, people, and the landscape itself into profound metaphors. Characters like Kamante and Lulu are presented as archetypes, and the African environment is consistently imbued with spiritual and philosophical significance, as when the narrator describes 'Africa distilled up through six thousand feet' or the Natives as 'Africa in flesh and blood.' This pervasive use of symbolism requires readers to constantly seek meaning beyond the surface narrative, placing it closer to 'To the Lighthouse' in its depth.
Ironic distance: 60 out of 100
A subtle, often self-aware irony permeates the narrative, stemming from the narrator's detached observations of human nature and cultural clashes. She describes her own medical practice as that of a 'great quack' and presents Kamante's view of her as 'one of the greater fools,' demonstrating a gentle self-deprecation. This ironic lens, while present, is less biting or subversive than in works like 'Lolita' or 'The Great Gatsby', serving more as a philosophical commentary on life's absurdities and colonial encounters.
Resolution withholding: 70 out of 100
While many individual anecdotes and conflicts find a narrative conclusion, the larger thematic concerns of the memoir remain open-ended and ambiguous. The ultimate fate of Lulu is left to speculation ('probably Lulu has died a long time ago'), and the narrator's final reflections on Africa's memory of her, or the 'darkness' of Kamante's letters, resist definitive closure. This creates a lingering sense of unresolved mystery and longing, making the overall experience more open-ended than a straightforward narrative.
Structural complexity: 55 out of 100
The memoir employs an episodic structure, frequently interweaving personal anecdotes with philosophical digressions and retrospective reflections ('Looking back on a sojourn in the African highlands'). While it maintains a consistent first-person point of view and a clear chapter organization, the non-linear flow of thought and the thematic rather than strictly chronological arrangement of events introduce a moderate level of structural complexity. This is more intricate than a linear narrative but lacks the radical formal experimentation of works like 'Flights' or 'Ulysses'.

How Out of Africa is regarded

Out of Africa holds a literary regard score of 83 out of 100, weighing its place in the canon, its critical reception, its influence on other writers, and the standing of its author. Regard is measured separately from difficulty: a demanding book is not necessarily an admired one.

About the author

Isak Dinesen