A friend bated me into reading Napoleon Hill’s Think and Grow Rich because he was so sure I would loathe the author and would not read it cover to cover.  

We both agreed a clean diet is necessary, but immunity only works when you can actively fight diseases. So, I approached this book, originally published in 1937, as a form of vaccination against the cult of capitalism and the self.   

And this book is exactly what a man who is not as rich took dictation from the so-called self-made men of America would write. He lavishly tells their stories and foolishly expects us to believe it all. 

Hill wants us to look at the men who caused and survived the economic depression through their conniving capitalist tendencies, such as repressing organised labour and monopolising the financial markets, with awe.  

Hill thinks of America as such a great nation that it can and should be seen as the revelation of the best principles of how society could be organised. He wants us to believe that the genius and industriousness of certain American capitalists have, time and again, saved America and made it the best possible place in the world for anyone who dreams of succeeding as a capitalist in any venture. 

Therefore, he shares some of their ‘secrets’ in this book of their self-affirmation practices that made them grow filthy rich. But in his own words, Hill shows us the true cost of this assumed greatness. 

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When describing why an American has a higher chance of success in business ventures, Hill lists South American bananas and Cuban sugar as breakfast items that are already provided for at an affordable price. 

We all know of the never-ending horror of the US business interests in the Americas and how the stories of Cuba and the Banana Republic unfold years after the publication of the book.

Not the first person

Hill would not be the first or the last of the Euro-American heritage scribes to think that no place in the world and in no previous time has had success, majesty, and greatness ever achieved as much as in their own. This attitude comes with belittling those whose land, resources, and labour they exploit. 

To the extent that a buffoon named his campaign Make America Great Again and went on to become a US president says it all. If the rich knew of themselves as an exceptional breed, they would have no need to continue perfecting instruments of repression such as technologies of policing and surveillance. 

We know Hill to be a liar because it is not a genius but a crude display of violence that saved his idol Andrew Carnegie’s business against organised labour. Repression was so perfect that Carnegie, in 1892, only had to keep communication without breaking his holiday routine.  

As if trying to rescue a meal already served, Hill throws in a dash of the East here and there. It is obvious his favourite Eastern equal is Gandhi. According to Hill, Gandhi’s little material possessions and great conviction of his beliefs led India to independence. 

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If Indian social reformer Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar, popularly known as Babasaheb, hadn’t documented Gandhi’s scandalous behaviour towards untouchables, I would have nice things to say about him. 

But the fact that Gandhi is all that the Indian government can export to the world while actively killing and dispossessing non-Hindus at home, I shall say no more. My point is that Hill sounds even more stupid sharing these stories to save face than if he kept to his own American exceptionalism!

Illusions of greatness

Our master here, Hill, is so drunk in his illusions of greatness that he thinks a strong will can bend things that we cannot directly control. Technically, he declares himself a god and promises you to get the power to wish things into being. And Hill knows that his ideas are so ridiculous that he even asks the reader to repeat them out loud! 

If you have doubt, he still offers you the story of his own son, born deaf-mute but who went on to conquer the world just after graduation. 

The son, in Hill’s own proclamation, was able to achieve so much in life because the father didn’t believe the disability would determine the life of his child. And the son eventually turned that disability into an opportunity to manufacture and market hearing aids.

We should have sympathy for any parent who receives a baby with defects at birth. But was this son of Hill not born with a silver spoon in his mouth? How many phone calls away were the best doctors when they were trying to find their way around the deaf-mute destiny of their son? 

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When the son comes to conquer his condition as a young adult, how many phone calls away were industrialists seeking to tap into the deaf-mute market? And here is Hill after so many resources were poured into curing his son’s condition, telling us it was his will. 

Fate

Hill confuses how we face situations with what situations we face. All humanity knows certain things just fall on us without preparation or choice. When these things are good, we celebrate. 

When they are difficult, we find ways to soothe ourselves and live with them. I don’t know if I would trust the life directions of a man who cannot differentiate between fate and how to live with fate.

I was going to comment on the book’s organisation but Think and Grow Rich is not even organised. It is like you wanted wool yarn for crocheting but instead had sheep fleece thrown at you so that you could process the yarn. Only then would you be worthy of that wool for that crochet item you initially wanted. 

The author presents one vignette after another and a litany of things to observe in almost every chapter. I am unsure what made this book spread this far into time instead of vanishing. 

Fine, we accept that, as adults, we should not be given baby food. But those adults who accepted this manuscript, the opportunists who market it and the minions who swear by it are all evil.  

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I have never written a book, so you do not have to trust me, but I have seen enough books to know this one is not even something I would send to the publisher. Of course, it was Mr Carnegie’s dictation. Or is this book beyond me to understand the genius of these American men? 

You can read the book at your own peril, and if you still have the energy to answer my question, please reach out.  

Diana Kamara identifies herself as a daughter of Adria Kokulengya. She can be reached at dianakkamara@gmail.com. The opinions expressed here are the writer’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of The Chanzo. If you are interested in publishing in this space, please contact our editors at editor@thechanzo.com.