Search This Blog

Thursday, 7 January 2021

Percy Jackson: The complete series (2005-2009)

Admittedly children's fiction is not usually my choice of literature but I read this pentalogy to support the reading of a nephew; he loves these books so I chose to read what he liked to engage in it more deeply. I did not initially intend to write up a blog about these books but since it did take up quite some of my reading time, I thought I may as well. Rick Riordan authored these books between 2005 and 2009, and my kindle edition was published by Puffin (Penguin). The whole series formed a 1149-paged text, so roughly 200 pages per book. I will summarise the content of the series (no spoilers), then look at a few general themes and share my personal reaction to the books.


The novels merge Greek mythology with contemporary American life, as Olympus has moved to America, the most powerful Western country in the world. We follow the adventures of Percy Jackson, who discovers he is a half blood (or a demi-god, like Hercules). This alters his experience of the world and towards himself, given that he begins as a "problem child", feeling unwanted both at home (due to his step-father) and at school (due to his ADHD and dyslexia). Discovering his new identity empowers him with a renewed sense of self-confidence and purpose. He finally feels important. Each book sends Percy on a new adventure to essentially save the (Western) world in incremental stages. They are written from a first-person perspective in the voice of Percy Jackson himself. 

A major recurring theme in the novels is that of environmentalism. Riordan consistently makes reference to various types of pollution ad how it is destroying the planet. In one of the books he delves a little deeper into the notion of animal mistreatment though the solutions are often simplistic, i.e. planting more trees and not selling meat to the "bad guys". He hardly addresses the issue that the "cheeseburger culture" that America embodies, is also participating to this. There is not enough critique into the culture that creates this destructive environment in my opinion. 

As with most action and fantasy fiction, there is a battle that the protagonist has to fight for and it is a battle of good versus evil. The battle in this series is essentially between saving or destroying the West as it is. While Riordan recognises that there are deficiencies in the West (namely pollution and bullying etc.) it still represents one of the best things in the world. This bias is understandable given the white American perspective it is written from but I cannot deny that it made me roll my eyes a little. However, in a more positive light, I did find the novels to be engaging simply due to the fact that there is a lot of action. It keeps the plot moving and the tense battle scenes keep up the suspense. In this respect, I can understand why young boys and girls may enjoy the series. 

Relationships are important in this series. Percy's relationship with his parents is central to his identity, due to simultaneously feeling deeply loved by his mother and neglected by his father and step-father. His poor relationship with academia adds to his insecurities and sense of instability. He tends towards befriending vulnerable peers, to protect them from bullies and this indicates his innate goodness and heroic inclinations. Through the course of the series his relationships develop, as he goes from 12 years old to 16 years old. He therefore has more complex challenges to face and more profound questions to ask himself in order to protect relationships he holds dear to him. 

Historical knowledge in relation to Greek mythology is given great importance in the plots of these novels. For those like my nephew, it compounds their interest in Greek mythology while for others, it may pique their interest in this alternative world. Having this knowledge saves the day in many of the encounters with mythological creatures, so I hope that this translates into a desire to take interest in research and learning for children; knowledge is power, after all. 

A couple of things that bothered me about the books were firstly, the elements seemingly "inspired by" Harry Potter (which was most evident in the first book). I have not read all of the Harry Potter books so cannot go into detail with these comparisons but there were a whole host of things that were evident in the first book especially that just made me feel like this series was not all that original. Though in the case of my nephew it seems like Greek mythology made him like Percy Jackson more than Harry Potter. I also was fatigued by the constant repetitions and reminders of what happened in the previous novel in each of the texts. Since I read them straight after each other, it seemed obvious and like a wasted explanation. In that sense, the descriptions bored me. However, I did notice that the books were released a year apart so for eager early fans (not 15 years behind like me), I can understand the value of these reminders (but maybe a glossary would have also done the job?). I also just did not like the Americanisation of things, just how junk food was referred to as normal food made me uncomfortable. Maybe that's my 'healthy adult' bias in there though. 

Overall, I cannot say that this series is my favourite or that it takes me back to childhood but I recognise how some young children may identify with the feelings of being inadequate and are waiting (hoping) for their own personal moment of self-discovery, when they learn their power and purpose in the world. I also see how the action creates suspense and therefore makes them want to read on. I am not a fan of the biases of the novel, but I do hope that the historical parts of the novel encourage children to learn and retain their learning to apply to the real world. The themes of relationships and history are interlinked given that your "history" is where you have come from, which also reveals your relationships. 


Friday, 18 September 2020

Homegoing (2016)

I found Yaa Gyansi's novel Homegoing on my to-read list when I was choosing a title for a bookclub with my teenage niece and her mother at the beginning of lockdown. It made it on my list via bookstagram (though I can't quite recall who exactly made the recommendation). The novel was published by Penguin in 2016 and is 220 pages long (Kindle edition noted 315 pages). It consists of two parts with 14 chapters. The story spans a period of three hundred years, following the descendants of two Ghanaian sisters. I will explore the format and style of the book as well as discuss some of the key themes alongside my personal reflections. 



The novel begins with an Akan proverb that notes the importance of every member of the family. Gyansi then provides a family tree for the reader to refer back to. The structure of the novel follows a generational format, where each chapter follows a character of the next generation of one of the family lines. As such, the chapters are named after the focalised character. Homegoing is written with a third person narrator who focalises into the central character of the chapter, and through their interactions the reader engages with auxiliary characters. I found that this generational approach to the chapters was really effective and powerful in exploring how social conditions changed (if at all). It also permitted the author to navigate and demonstrate the effects of intergenerational traumas as well as lost lineage and identity. Since each character represents a familial generation as well as a socio-political environment, their chapter can almost be read as a short story, albeit interwoven with the preceding and succeeding narratives. 

Homegoing begins in Ghana at the beginning of colonisation and is implicated in the slave trade. The social dynamics are complex and hierarchies are being continuously challenged. This environment brings to the fore the dehumanising and racist discourse at the heart of these injustices. As one family line remains in Ghana and the other is sent to toil in America, Gyansi demonstrates how whiteness, whether in the context of slavery or colonisation and missionary efforts, shaped the characters' experiences on the two continents. That being said, she also highlights how colonisation and slavery have morphed to take on other forms in the present (i.e. modern day prison systems). It provokes debate as to how deeply rooted the problem really is to this day. 

Women and womanhood are a huge theme in the novel, and they explored from so many angles that my short paragraph definitely will not do it justice (perhaps someone can write an essay or thesis on the matter instead). However, I do still want to note some significant points. The matrilineal line of descendants is a distinct reminder of the status of women and the power of womanhood in society, especially given that they are also subject to violence, and risk being treated as assets, thus making them vulnerable. These oppositions consequently demonstrate the complexity of womanhood as we witness empowered femininity and subjugated femininity. In addition to this, we see how the trauma women experience is passed down through generations, compounding the struggles each generation inherits. 

I was pleased to read Gyansi's representation of (historic) tribal Africa, where polygamous households are a norm and not looked upon condescendingly. As with all family structures, there are complexities but it was refreshing to visualise a co-operative society with joint families where there is mutual respect between men and women, each bringing to the table their own contributions for the prosperity of the whole family. No doubt it is also a competitive society where tribes and tribesmen compete for strength, reputation and power, yet there is a notion of responsibility towards others that is enshrined in this, combatting excess selfishness.

Naturally, sex is a prerequisite to form generations in a family line and therefore sexual encounters are fairly frequent in the novel. I mention this in case you are selecting this for younger readers, as I was unaware of this when choosing to read this with my 13-year old niece. Her mother also read the book and decided she would rather her daughter read the book at a later age, as sexual violence is also explored. Otherwise, I found that these scenes were always relevant and carefully written, unlike some texts that are rather gratuitous and vulgar in this regard. Gyansi represents the nuances of sexual relations, as they demonstrate power dynamics between couples as well as sources of pleasure, or how they play an important spiritual and cultural role. I also considered Gyansi's writing to be sensitive to "forbidden" love and notions of homosexual desire.  

Overall, Homegoing is an excellent novel that everyone ought to read for both the content and the writing style (age permitting). It deals with deep emotions and a realm of complex situations and scenarios that underline the complexity of history and the present of Black lives. Of course it is also heartbreaking to read this knowing that it is "merely" fiction, thus the reality of injustice must be significantly worse, however unpalatable that may seem. This is a valuable book because of the story it tells and it is also well-written and engaging in its form and style. The stories are a powerful reminder of just a fraction of the dark history of domination this world has seen. 

***

Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 



Monday, 13 July 2020

A Little Life (2015)

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara was published by Picador in 2015. It was nominated for several literary prizes, including the Booker Prize (2015), Women's Prize for Fiction (2016) and the National Book Awards (2016). My kindle edition comprises 737 pages and the novel is divided into 7 parts, with three chapters each. I read this book with my siblings as part of our book club. My brother had been gifted it 6 years earlier and had only read a few pages. I am often hesitant to read American fiction but agreed to this one because it is by a woman of colour. I will briefly discuss the general outline of the novel and how it is written before exploring some of the core themes and my final thoughts.


The novel is about four graduate friends who are trying to make it in New York. We are immediately introduced to them, that is Malcolm, JB, Jude and Willem, through scenes of them together or in pairs. Yanagihara then focalises into each protagonist's background to contextualise them. Jude's contextualisation comes last, and is the most ambiguous and lingering. It consequently takes several chapters to finally piece together Jude's history. Generally, the novel follows a chronological structure, with some flashbacks which are interspersed with other narratives in the present and future, which discuss events retrospectively. The narrative spans around three decades, if not five.

Thematically, Yanagihara explores profoundly human and haunting social issues. The most obvious theme is that of friendship, but this is nuanced as she explores the spectrum from co-dependency to betrayal. In addition to this, the novel examines notions of belonging, race and ethnicity, identity, sexuality, understanding of success and fulfilment, addiction, disability, child abuse, mental health and family. As the protagonists are going from youth into adulthood, we witness their disillusionment of youth and their attempts to navigate adulthood. This requires facing up to their own insecurities or they risk ending up being self-sabotaged by them. 

Yanagihara varies the narrative voice throughout the novel, which adds diversity and offers different perspectives to specific events. Sometimes the narrative voice is in the third person with an 'omniscient' narrator who focalises into certain characters' lives and at other times it is in the first person (of either Harold or Willem). Gradually more of the novel focuses in onto Jude and the other characters' interactions with him. The writing style competently deals with dark themes with a lightness that does not overly traumatise the reader, yet Yanagihara is also able to effectively evoke shock, for example, of violent relationships. 

I noticed that this novel opposed traditional literature as it is a woman writing about four male protagonists. Though my brother remarked that it does not discuss manhood as such, and thus could have been equally a story about four women. In that respect, the novel is genderless. This fluidity of gender and sexuality has been one of the praised points in reviews. Moreover, it was interesting to note how Jude, considered an enigma, is race-less and genderless. This protects and frees him from the readers' bias and prejudice but it also means that the reader cannot place him. This neutrality emphasises that he lacks belonging to any "origin" and, for me, meant that I could not deeply empathise with him. 

Another remarkable feature of this novel is how secular it is. There is no belief system in place and it is a space that simply deals with everyone's emotions and subjectivities, which are thus taken as realities. Despite the presence of names with religious connotations, such as Father Gabriel, Ahmed and Jude St. Francis, there is extremely little religious critique or commentary, if at all. That is to say, none of the catastrophes or epiphanies in the book are attributed to religion. In this respect, the novel fully embraced a liberalism that I had never read in fiction before now. For me, it felt strange and somewhat hollow in some respects due to this; it seems to be a novel about just existing for the self and others, which is a struggle as both can massively betray you. 

In sum, I found the writing to be fluid and I was glad that it did not have the American twang that I usually struggle with in American literature. It is a very well-written novel but is extremely long and I, personally, did not find it life changing and would argue that you could live a good life without ever reading it. 

***

Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 

Sunday, 28 June 2020

The Sultan's Daughter (2020)

An ARC of this fantasy novella, written by P.E. Gilbert was gifted to me in exchange for an honest review. The Sultan's Daughter is a quick read of 11 chapters and around 50 pages. It will be self-published by the author in July 2020 in print edition and kindle edition. I will offer a brief, spoiler-free outline of the novella before addressing a few key themes and my thoughts on how they were addressed. 



The story is a set in a pre-modern, oriental fantasy world, which has its own "Charted Map" found at the beginning of the book. This region forms a kingdom and experiences conflict due to power struggles linked to bloodline but more significantly relating to religious beliefs. The initial scene introduces the dying Sultan in his deathbed bestowing heavy responsibilities onto his daughter's shoulders. The rest of the plot relates to how she executes these last wishes. Gilbert provides several discussion questions at the end of the book to provoke further reflection on some of the plot's themes and events. 

The central theme of the novella is the fight between good and bad, which in this case is between the religiously devout and the religious fanatics of the imaginary faith that believes in Abyars as a deity. It is striking that the "hardline" Aybars' laws include lashing for fornication and cutting off hands for stealing and one of their erroneous desires is to want to wage a holy war to regain access to the holy city of Zenith. These parallels to things attributed to some Muslims and/ or governments or groups is hard to ignore. Ultimately we find two Eastern sects fighting each other for faith-based reasons, and these oppositions are not particularly nuanced or subtle. Interestingly the good side, show little evidence of actual devotion. There is much political commentary to be made in this respect, but I will not delve into this in this post. 

As the title suggests, this novella is about a young woman, namely Nalini, who is the Sultan's daughter. Nalini's character evolves significantly through the rapid turns of events.  She begins as a rather submissive and overly-obedient daughter. She later develops into a determined and, arguably, stubborn, albeit insecure, character. Personally, I did not find her character to be amiable. While I admit that not all protagonists need to be beautiful, I found it noteworthy that Nalini is described as one with "little beauty" and has a "darker complexion" than her husband Emilio, the fair-skinned heathen, who happens to be a more sympathetic character than Nalini herself. These characterisations are problematic especially when considering a post-colonial reading of texts. 

Moreover, with a largely male character cast and central female protagonist, there appears to be an attempt to assert feminine empowerment. This power is bestowed upon a woman by men, and Nalini is hesitant to accept it but does so mainly because it is not prohibited in the religious laws. While she is hard-working and demonstrates immense self-restraint, sometimes it is to unhealthy degrees and makes me question her actual competence. She seems to go from being an extremely passive feminine stereotype to someone trying to avoid association to femininity through any expression of weakness. In my opinion she is yet to reach her full potential by the end of the story. This transition of feminine expression requires more depth and nuance. 

The writing style of the novel is fluid. Gilbert makes use of a third-person narrator who focalises into Nalini's experience of events. In this respect, the novella's perspective is highly influenced by her subjectivities, including her inner turmoil and outer appearances. Due to this dual access, it is easier to criticise her more precisely than the other characters. I found Gilbert's discussion questions to be a a nice way to engage more thoughtfully in a short read. 

Overall, the novella was a quick read, with an eventful plot. In some ways it seems like it is not just an oriental fantasy but also an orientalist fantasy. Gilbert deals with major, complex issues and the length of the work may have been a restriction in fully exploring them with due justice. I would like to thank the author P.E. Gilbert for the opportunity to honestly review his hard work.

***

Is this a novella genre that interests you? What do you normally like to read? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear about your reading preferences. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 

Thursday, 28 May 2020

Le Cri des Oiseaux Fous (2000)

This autobiographical novel was first introduced to me in my final year of my Bachelors (2014) in one of my French modules; it was one of the primary texts and one of the first full-length novels in French I was to read. I really enjoyed reading it at the time, and even revising the text during exam season! So I decided to re-read the novel to begin reading more in French again and to see how my relationship with the text has developed. I am writing this review in English for fellow French-reading anglophones, though there is a French version too. 



My edition was published by Le Serpent à Plumes in 2002, though it was originally published by Lanctot Ã‰diteur in 2000. Dany Laferrière's 346-paged novel is divided into short time-stamped chapters during the course of 24 hours, which are the last 24 hours the author experiences in his homeland Haiti before being exiled indefinitely. It is written with a first-person narrative, following the protagonist's thoughts where he offers a very personal perception of people, things and events. I will explore some of the key themes and reflections in the book alongside my own reading experience. 

Vieux Os (Old Bones), La Ferrière's pseudonym, is driven to exile following the unprecedented assassination of his close friend Gasner. This assassination sets the scene of 1976 politics in Haiti, a country living under the harsh dictatorship of Baby Doc (Jean-Claude Duvalier) which is in itself a legacy of Papa Doc (Francois Duvalier). Therefore this a highly political novel, as we learn much about the culture and lifestyle this dictatorship creates. Vieux Os compares the two dictatorships with the latter seemingly even more corrupt than the former, yet both with their own approach to brutality and control. Such torture and suffering is no doubt feared yet there are notions of whether it is better to be tortured by your own (Haitian government) or by others, referring to suffering at the hands of white people in foreign countries or even during the period of enslavement. Does it matter who is subjecting you to mistreatment?

Gasner's assassination raises many reflections on the nature of friendship and various types of friendships that Vieux Os holds close to his heart. We learn the secret "codes" they hold between themselves as well as the rarity of good, safe friendships in a world ridden with spies, traitors and "tonton macoutes", the dictatorship's police force. Since friendship is the catalyst for exile in many ways, it cannot go without analysis in our very contemplative protagonist's mind. 

As we learn about Haiti's culture through our protagonist, we are soon exposed to its unique religious environment where two dominant religions reside: Catholicism and Vaudou (or Vodou). This religious dichotomy not only represents ancient practises versus colonial teachings, it also shows different approaches to faith and seeking strength and hope in the tense environment. Laferrière does not shy away from intertwining Vaudou gods or beliefs in his writing, even in subtle ways when recalling his deceased friend thus engaging the reader with the religion.

Women play an important role in Haiti and in Vieux Os' last day in the country. We are introduced to many different types of women, from the saintly, grief-stricken mothers to vulgar temptresses and many somewhere on the spectrum between those extremes. Thus Laferrière explores lust and temptation as well as love and commitment. We learn how women are integral to keeping homes and the country running, as men are so often being persecuted. Laferrière shines a light on the strength of womanhood in such extreme conditions. 

The novel also delves into the world of prostitution, a strategic industry nurtured by the dictatorship to contribute to weakening the population. Moreover, prostitutes have access to a world of deep, dark secrets and are thus valuable sources. In some ways we see the human side of such a vulnerable and potentially brutal career.

Overall, I found it a pleasure to read this autobiographical novel. Laferrière explores a vast range of themes connected to his life and nation from family and friendship to life and death. Because this novel is based on the author's real life experiences and many of the characters are presumed to be real to some capacity or another, I was left with the desire to know more about what happened to the author himself and his parents- which would mean I need to look for the corresponding books in his long series. I enjoyed the writing style as I found it amusing in places, which balanced out some of the sorrow

***

Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts.

Le Cri des Oiseaux Fous (2000) - français

Ce roman autobiographique Ã©crit par Dany Laferrière m'a Ã©té présenté pour la première fois pendant ma licence de français. Il m'avait beaucoup plu à l'époque et je voulais le lire à nouveau afin de voir si mes impressions ont changé depuis. Mon édition est celle du “Serpent à Plumes” de 2002, mais le roman a été publiée une première fois par Lanctot Éditeur en 2000. Cette oeuvre de 346 pages est divisée en petits chapitres horodatés, en poursuivant les dernières 24 heures à Haiti avant l'exil indéfini de l'auteur. Il est écrit à la première personne et suit les pensées profondes du protagoniste qui propose des réflexions très personnelles Ã  propos des choses, des gens et des événements. J'examinerai plusieurs thèmes importants et donnerai ma réaction personnelle dans ce compte-rendu. 


Vieux Os, le pseudonyme de l'auteur dans le roman, est obligé de partir de son pays en exil après l'assassinat de son ami proche, Gasner. Les assassinats et l'exil sont des circonstances bien connues dans le contexte politique de Haiti sous la dictature de Baby Doc (Jean-Claude Duvalier), héritier du pays après le décès de son père Papa Doc (Francois Duvalier). Il s'agit donc de la politique de la dictature et ses conséquences dans la culture nationale. Vieux Os compare les deux dictatures où la première semblait être moins corrompue que la seconde, mais où chacune a eu sa manière de surveillance et de brutalité sur le peuple. Une réflexion approfondie amène la question importante suivante : vaut-il mieux être torturé par les siens (son propre gouvernement ou ses congénères) ou par des étrangers (rappelant l'oppression de l'esclavage, la colonisation et même la domination raciale)? Comment cela importe-t-il? 

En perdant soudainement un ami proche, Vieux Os se retrouve à analyser ses amitiés variées qu'il tient à coeur. Nous apprenons ses "codes" privés entre amis et aussi comment les bonnes amitiés, sans danger, sont si rares dans un monde rempli d'espions, de traîtres et de tontons macoutes, la police de la dictature. Les réflexions à propos de l'amitié de notre protagoniste contemplatif ne peuvent être ignorées car l'amitié est le catalyseur même de son exil.

La culture de Haiti révèle un environnement religieux unique qui consiste de deux religions principales: le Catholicisme et le Vaudou. Ces deux religions représentent à la fois les anciennes pratiques et les enseignements coloniaux; nous voyons aussi des approches différentes pour trouver l'espoir et la force dans les conditions difficiles. Laferrière entrelace son histoire avec les dieux et les croyances Vaudou de manière subtile et évidente. 

Les femmes jouent un rôle important dans le pays et durant les dernières 24 heures de Vieux Os dans le pays. Il nous présente des femmes de toutes sortes, des mamans angéliques accablées de douleur aux séductrices impétueuses, et toute une variété entre ces deux extrêmes. Ainsi, Laferrière nous présente une exploration du désir et de la tentation ainsi que l'amour pur et l'engagement. Les femmes semblent faire fonctionner le pays et leurs maisons pendant que les hommes font face à la persécution politique, ce qui souligne la force de la féminité dans des conditions extrêmes.

Le roman plonge aussi dans le monde de la prostitution, un secteur stratégique de la part de la dictature pour affaiblir la population. De plus, les prostituées sont des sources d’informations précieuses grâce à leur accès à un monde rempli des secrets les plus profonds. Nous découvrons aussi un côté humain à une profession tellement vulnérable et potentiellement brutale. 

Dans l'ensemble, le roman était encore une fois un plaisir à lire et j'ai pu l'apprécier différemment cette fois-ci comme mon français s’est amélioré. Laferrière étudie un grand nombre de thèmes liés à sa vie et son pays, de la famille et l'amitié à la vie et la mort. La présence de passages amusants compense la tristesse poignante. Parce que ce roman est inspiré de la vie réelle de l'auteur, je me suis retrouvée extrêmement curieuse de la suite des événements surtout par rapport à ses relations avec ses parents. Cette curiosité me poussera à chercher les romans correspondants que Laferrière a écrit.   

***

Est-ce que vous avez lu ce roman? Comment vous l’avez trouvez? J’aimerais bien lire vos pensées ci-dessous! 


Monday, 20 April 2020

Lords of the Horizons: A History of the Ottoman Empire (1998)

Lords of the Horizons: A History of the Ottoman Empire by Jason Goodwin was first published in 1998 by Chatto & Windus. The edition I read was published by Vintage (Random House) in 1999. My kindle edition comprises of 370 pages and it is divided into three parts, a total of 25 chapters with added Epilogue, a list of Ottoman Sultans, an Ottoman Chronology and Glossary at the end. This review is exceptional and I hesitated whether to write it at all, since I have not finished reading the whole book, and may not ever do so. However, I thought my reasons for halting this read were sufficient enough to be mentioned in a brief review. I will note my intentions for reading it as well as how I found it and why I stopped. 



My sister suggested we start a bookclub during our social distancing and self-isolation practises. With my brother also in the group we decided to read this book as it was on his "to-read" list as he had heard many good things about it and how it provided a good insight into Ottoman/ Turkish history. I agreed to this book because this period of history also interests me, yet I know little to nothing about it. It was also one of the cheaper options on the kindle bookstore (compared to our other candidates). I preferred the kindle option to avoid delivery logistics (waiting and over-burdening the system in this unusual climate). 

An initial critique of the book is that Goodwin failed to describe the context of Europe or Asia prior the Ottoman Empire, thus making it difficult to understand in which environment this empire emerged and how it changed the landscape of these places. We learn that the contemporary world still holds relics of this time gone by but unfortunately there is no real reference to the state of the world before Osman took power. 

In addition to this, it is also a massive shame that the root of the Empire, its values, its raison d'être and the character of its founder are hardly explored. This is apparently due to the seemingly little amount of information there is about Osman I but it seems unusual and like there was not enough justice done to discovering the foundational character of such a significantly powerful and old empire. The first two to three Ottoman leaders were not discussed in any great detail, which would have been of great interest and also would have better marked the distinction between the tribal origins to the sultanate that was later formed.  

It took me a couple of chapters to get into the writing style, but even then I found it less than engaging and far from captivating. I recognise that the Ottoman Empire spans over a vast amount of time (dating from 1300 to 1924) so this book made for an immense project in itself and it would be hardly possible to get into the minutia but even core events in the chronology were not written in a engaging manner. It felt haltingly described and somewhat patched together. In this sense I would disagree with the Time Out review that claimed that this book was "Perhaps the most readable history ever written". My sister also noted that the spelling of the names of the Ottoman leaders were inconsistent between the chronology and the actual book and were thus a tad confusing. 

When we changed books, I considered reading it alongside anyway, to not leave a book unfinished but then I decided against it because of the orientalist attitude and the misinformation shared by the writer. Three core examples of this include: 1) Goodwin attempts to describe the reason for the Sunni-Shi'a conflict and gets it completely wrong: he claims it is due to a disagreement about the Prophetic lineage coming from Ali or Fatima. (They do not disagree on this at all but differ as to whether Ali or Abu Bakr should have been the Caliph after the Prophet's demise). 2) He calls the Kaaba "the weird stone cube", which is highly disrespectful and inappropriate language. This is the direction of worship for all Muslims and marks a sacred geographical, historical and spiritual point in the world. 3) Goodwin describes the Black Stone, a corner stone in the Kaaba, as "God's eye on earth". No sane Muslim has every believed or claimed such a thing, and it is definitely not understood to serve this purpose at all. It is considered to be a sacred stone from the heavens that was initially white then darkened with the sins of mankind. It also is known to have no power, but is revered because the Prophet Muhammad showed respect towards it (i.e. kissed it). 

Since history books are an interpretation of historical events, that are substantiated through documental or other evidence, I felt like I could not really trust Goodwin's interpretation of a history I already know very little about given that he so blatantly made huge gaffes and showed his negative bias in this way. This is the main reason I did not continue reading his work, nor would I recommend it to others.

Admittedly, I only read a small percentage (my kindle told me 20%) of the book, and if my bookclub buddies had decided to proceed with the book, I would have gone along reading it. But since I did not have this commitment, I could not fully trust Goodwin's version of events, nor did I enjoy his writing style, I abandoned ship. 

***

Have you read this book? What did you think? Have you ever found yourself abandoning a book? What made you do it? Let me know in the comments. 


***

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts

Monday, 23 March 2020

Extreme Economies: Survival, Failure, Future - Lessons from the World's Limits (2019)

I was honoured with a gifted copy of this book as my sister was a research assistant for the author, Richard Davies. I'm reviewing it, as with all my reviews, primarily as a personal record of my thoughts of the book and secondly to share my impressions with others who seek to read or may have already read the book in order to provoke constructive discussion. This non-fiction work was published by Transworld Publishers, Bantam Press (Penguin). I have a hardback copy, which comprises of 337 pages (without Notes and References) although the book is also available as an e-book and audiobook. I will discuss the structure of the book as well as the writing style and recurring themes or "lessons". 



Extreme Economies: Survival, Failure, Future - Lessons from the World's Limits is divided into three main parts, as the title suggests. Each part uses three case studies to illustrate distinct extreme scenarios. The first part explores "Survival: The Economics of Resilience", which is explored through three locations namely Aceh, Zaatari and Louisiana. The second part delves into "Failure: The Economics of Lost Potential", covering Darien, Kinshasa and Glasgow and finally, the third part examines the "Future: The Economics of Tomorrow", taking in example Akita, Tallinn and Santiago. Therefore we are given nine core chapters to discover the workings of poor and successful economies around the world. The heart of the book is dedicated to a collection of photos that Davies took and collected during his travels researching the locations described in each chapter. They are vivid, high-quality photos that add a valuable visual element to his detailed descriptions.

In my brief readings of texts related to economics, I have felt that it is a somewhat "cut-throat" field of study where humans are objects required to produce desired financial results and it only wants to know the statistics and numerical value of things. I definitely had my own bias against the field for such reasons and was thankfully pleasantly surprised when this presumably stats-and-figures book managed to maintain a human connection and relevance. Davies does this primarily by incorporating valuable interviews concerning the economic condition of a place with locals. 

Something I particularly liked about Davies' presentation of an economic scenario is the historical context he provides of the places he visited in order for us to better understand how they became what they are today. I found these historical "flashbacks" to be both interesting and informative. These dips into history are also rich and varied as this research offers a broad and international analysis, since the focus areas are dotted in widely different points in the world. 

I found that Davies actively seeks to find a balance to present a fair analysis of the positives and negatives of each scenario, highlighting where they counter-balance each other, or not. Significantly, Davies also explores the value and utility of informal economies and markets, which are often overlooked or even frowned upon. Often this insight opens up a window into human resilience, creativity and resourcefulness. 

To conclude, I found that it was easy and fascinating to read even for someone with no economics background. If anything, I found myself recommending the book to various people I know because of its relevance and significance to our everyday lives as well as the societies we are living in. An important lesson from this research is to recognise that human bonds are vital for prosperous societies and thus economies. 

Have you read this book? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts




Wednesday, 18 March 2020

In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts (2008)

I downloaded In The Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction after listening to Dr Rangan Chatterjee's podcast interview with the author, Dr. Gabor Maté, In the podcast they briefly discuss this book and it piqued my interest. 2018 marked the ten-year anniversary of the first publication of this work, after it has already been translated into several languages around the world. My edition is the 2018 kindle edition published by Vermilion London, who are related to the Penguin Publishing House. This is a non-fiction study into addiction patterns. The book is divided into seven parts, with a total of 34 chapters. It is 496 pages long. I will provide a little background on the author, then move on to discuss his approach to this topic and the contents of the book before offering my overall thoughts. 




Dr. Maté is a Hungarian-born, Canadian medical doctor who is now retired. He is a Jewish survivor of the Holocaust and has family members who did not survive it. He has primarily worked with heavily drug-addicted patients in his long career, although he has also worked in palliative care among other fields. It is through his research working with drug-addicted patients and also exploring his own addictive tendencies that he explores the deeper causes and potential ways to heal this social phenomena. He is also known for his studies into Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder and generally understands there to be a mind-body connection when it comes to both mental and physical health.

While Dr. Maté consults a range of scientific studies in his exploration of addiction, he does not limit his scope to simply chemical reactions and responses to substances. If anything he elaborates on such research and explores how there are limitations to a chemical-dependent explanation of these disorders. He explores the functions of the human brain in relation to addictive behaviours and also how trauma and/or addictions themselves shape the condition of the brain. This broadens the assumptions of developing addictions as well as notions of how to combat them. 

His research explores patterns at the root of addictions, from as early as when a child is still in the womb, to early childhood and even triggers in adult life. As is expected in his approach, we see him piece together emotional and spiritual health as well as physical health to piece together the puzzle of addictive and compulsive behaviour. While much of the book deals with hard drug addicts, there are many connections made with other types of addictive behaviours, thus broadening the relevance and understanding of such phenomena in the human. 

The book, despite being a form of medical research, is written with a range of explanatory anecdotes of the doctor's patients as well as his own experiences. Not only does this make it easier to read and understand the concepts being described, they also serve to contextualise and humanise the scientific research and a demonised segment of society. In this book Maté critiques modern society for nurturing addicts in the first place and then ignoring or punishing the consequent behaviours and people trapped in negative cycles. Therefore Maté ultimately argues for compassion at a basic level as well as at an institutional level in order to minimise the suffering of an already vulnerable community. 

Overall, I have found myself recommending this book to several people quite simply because it develops a deeper understanding of the hurt experienced by people at a personal and social level. The variety of addictive tendencies we see around us are vast and not unrelated to what Dr. Maté discusses in this piece of work. While not a "how to overcome addiction" book, it opens many doors and puts you on the right track. His approach is holistic and meaningful, in such a way that we can take away lessons on how to better treat ourselves and those around us struggling with internal battles. 

***

Have you read this book? What did you think of it? How did you come across this work? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 

Tuesday, 3 December 2019

Rich People Problems (2017)

Rich People Problems is the final novel in the trilogy by Kevin Kwan, published in 2017 by Doubleday (Penguin). My digital edition was 393 pages (paperback 384 pages) and the novel was divided into four parts with a total of 56 chapters with added prologue and epilogue. I will share my thoughts on the content, form and generally compare it to the two preceding novels. 



Kwan chooses to play with his writing in this novel by keeping some elements the same (chapters headed by locations) but also offering the readers more "first-hand" information from sources like magazine articles, adverts and other literary sources. This, as well as the different focuses Kwan offers in each chapter, provide a range of perspectives for the reader in an intertwined plot. Kwan pulls this off really well and it keeps the novel dynamic and engaging. He competently adapts his writing styles to the literary sources, from diary entries to gossip articles and they help to make the reader feel more involved with the whole intrigue. A few new settings (especially in India) added a new flavour to the range of experiences he described too, and I definitely appreciated those brief "visits". 

As far as the storyline goes, Rich People Problems gave me what I wanted (to develop the story between Nick and his grandmother- and Tyersall Park) and much more. Kwan manages to combine and tie up both the first and second novels extremely well. It justifies and compensates the second novel, for China Rich Girlfriend does provide a fair amount of background for half of this novel's story. I found this final story to be extremely eventful, which offered a good pace to all the happenings. Kwan managed to keep the balance between creating suspense and filling scenarios with emotion without them lingering on for too long and allowing the reader some relief or at least some progress on the issue(s) at hand. 

I also valued Kwan's approach to history in this novel. Crazy Rich Asians and Rich People Problems offer a colonial context to Singapore, especially in its architecture, but I liked how Kwan went the extra mile in this novel. By taking the reader into the past, Kwan characterised Su Yi more thoroughly as well as deepen our understanding of the relationships in the novel. 

Overall, I have to say I loved this book as much as the first one and it gave me much more than what I was expecting. I'm glad I chose to read the final of the trilogy despite the slight "slump" in the middle. Believe it or not, this novel shows that rich people do have a whole host of problems. Ranging from being accepted into high society to inheritance and being released of the "shackles" of elite norms, Rich People Problems definitely offers readers an enjoyable and emotional experience into this wealthy world.

***

Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 

Monday, 25 November 2019

The Watermelon Boys: A Novel (2018)

When I found out that my brother’s best friend’s sister had published a book, I had to get my hands on it, albeit a year late. Since, this novel has received the Betty Trask Award. The Watermelon Boys by Ruqaya Izzidien is a 349-page novel (or 352 with the Author’s Note) published in 2018 by Hoopoe, Cairo. It comprises of 57 chapters divided into three parts. I’ll firstly note the details of her award and include the book’s description (or blurb) before going into my review. Note, I read this novel in April 2019 and just gotten round to publishing my thoughts now.

Izzidien’s novel is one of the six winners of the 2019 Betty Trask Awards, bestowed annually by the prestigious Society of Authors’ Awards in recognition of the best and most promising first novels written by authors under the age of 35 in a traditional or romantic, but not experimental, style. (Source below)



Book description:
It is the winter of 1915 and Iraq has been engulfed by the First World War. Hungry for independence from Ottoman rule, Ahmad leaves his peaceful family life on the banks of the Tigris to join the British-led revolt. Thousands of miles away, Welsh teenager Carwyn reluctantly enlists and is sent, via Gallipoli and Egypt, to the Mesopotamia campaign. Carwyn’s and Ahmad’s paths cross, and their fates are bound together. Both are forever changed, not only by their experience of war, but also by the parallel discrimination and betrayal they face.


The narrator powerfully begins the novel in the first-person plural (we), implicating each of us into history before switching to a third-person voice, focalising into Ahmad’s experience, but then later also that of Carwyn, To a lesser degree the narrator focalises into other characters’ experiences too. Izzidien chooses an effective writing style for the story she has crafted. She skilfully recounts several tender scenes and also succeeds in creating tension and expressing passion, thus taking the reader through an emotional journey as well as a historical one. The narrator offers deep words of truth and contemplation on several occasions in the novel, which call out the ongoing state of the world and contemporary human relations. Bringing in these reflections and connecting history to the present day serves to spark reflection in terms of what we can learn from history and how much of it we allow to be repeated. It also prevents us from disassociating ourselves from people of the past as mere characters. 


While this novel focuses largely on Ahmed and his sons in the light of historic events, as they are the titled watermelon boys who sell the fruits along the Tigris, we also meet strong female characters. They are gracious and admirable without being clichés or cringingly naive. Izzidien creates a warmth in her female characters, who are both pleasant and powerful in their own ways. I would have loved to delve deeper into their lives, but for that to be satisfied, the novel would have had to be much longer. Thankfully she gives us just enough though more wouldn’t have gone amiss. 

In terms of the historical period, I found that I was reading about a part of British colonisation that I had never known or heard about (having been more exposed to Indian and African narratives). Izzidien proposes a provocative depiction of historical events, which I doubt would be typically read in a British classroom. Izzidien is not afraid to take the British to account in this piece and it is rather refreshing to say the least. This critical exploration makes this novel, in my opinion, a valuable and arguably necessary read for anyone who does not know about British involvement in the region as early as WWI. 

As Izzidien describes a time gone by and a city (Baghdad) that no longer exists as it used to, I could not help but to feel remorse and grief at the architecture, life and how this city, as many others in the world, mark history in the absence of monuments and relics rather that in the solid walls of historic architecture and museums. Thankfully history is also contained in people’s hearts, memories and in literature. Izzidien's descriptions of the city are vibrant and create a longing for a place that unfortunately no longer exits in its fully glory. 

Overall, I found the novel to be both historically informative and emotionally nuanced. I enjoyed reading Izzidien's writing and felt it was a brave piece of work. My biggest criticism would be that I would have liked to read even more about some of the other characters and sub-plots but also recognise that it would have been beyond the scope for a first novel.  

Source: https://hoopoefiction.com/2019/06/19/izzidiens-first-novel-the-watermelon-boys-wins-big/

Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 

Friday, 30 November 2018

The Monk of Mokha (2018)

The Monk of Mokha is a non-fiction and true account of Mokhtar Alkhanshali's attempt to revive the Yemeni coffee trade and find his own place in the world. Alkhanshali is a Yemeni American and this book was written by Dave Eggers following years of interviews and research. The book was published in 2018 by Hamish Hamilton (Penguin) and the hardback edition is 323 pages long. Eggers divides this work into a prologue, five "books" (which comprise of a total of 42 chapters), and an epilogue. I will share some of the different components that make up this account as well as my thoughts on this type of writing.





The book begins by introducing the reader to Mokhtar Alkhanshali. We quickly learn about his childhood, immigrant background and his general upbringing, which contribute to his developing a quick-witted character. Eggers smoothly describes the series of events that result in Alkhanshali's transition into the coffee world. And yet trying to establish oneself with the intention Mokhtar had, is shown to be hardly a piece of cake. Alkhanshali is not only introduced to this idea somewhat coincidentally, he also has a lot to lose if he chooses to pursue this vision and he is, for the majority of this book, quite a desperate fellow. 

The reader, like Mokhtar himself once was, is immersed into the history and origins of coffee, which comprise of spirituality (Islamic ascetics), politics (colonisation) and criminality. This background not only shows how far coffee has come since its humble beginnings but also the extent to which the coffee trade has expanded and been exploitative on a global level. This history is fascinating in and of itself but even more so when we consider ethical trading and historical practises. 

We also learn about the delicate process of producing coffee as we know it today. Mokhtar Alkhanshali had to learn about the nature of coffee agriculture as well as the whole processing procedure and how to prepare coffee for roasting, grinding and finally preparation. As we learn the delicate nature of coffee production from his research and experiences, it reestablishes an increased level of respect for this "common" beverage. In fact, good coffee is far from common and if anything a privilege to drink. Of course coffee, as with anything in the world, comes in all shapes and sizes (and qualities) but Mokhtar learns and Eggers explains the labour intensive work behind this beverage. In some ways it explains that the "hipster" obsession with coffee connoisseur-ship is no joke.

Eggers also places these events in the context of contemporary American politics, and recognises the significance of islamophobia in the the US for Muslim Americans. In addition, Alkhanshali's adventures happened to take place while the Yemeni war began to develop, and he intended to visit Yemen to realise his project. In one of his visits he found himself stuck in the Yemeni war and had to try to get out for the sake of his life and business. Eggers does not ignore the social distinction Alkhanshali felt due to his background, and the implied privilege white Americans enjoy in the world. This is not elaborated on in detail as we also see how Mokhtar also experiences the privilege of holding an American passport when he is in Yemen, highlighting international hierarchies and bias. 

For much of the book, the events Alkhanshali experiences create much of the tension and suspense, as they are extremely delicate situations that vary from theft and poverty to matters of life and death. However, Eggers conveys the urgency of each situation accordingly and does not overly dramatise or exaggerate in a way to make you feel like you're reading a piece of fiction. The reader is very much reading about the real world, which is not short of its own dangers. Eggers' writing style is clear and engaging. I personally found the cultural insight into Yemeni society (as tribal as it is) quite fascinating and Eggers, an "outsider" himself, effectively conveys cultural distinctions so as to explain the reasons behind uncommon behaviour for Westerners. 

This is my first time reading a book by Eggers and even reading non-fiction about something so contemporary. Both the book and the company are so new (and real) that it is quite a new experience for me as a reader, especially for someone who is more attracted to historical works. The book was a birthday gift to me from my siblings, and definitely made for a change in my reading. I find Alkhanshali's cause (to revive Yemeni coffee trade and value its labourers) to be noble and his chosen approach to be befitting. At the very least this book offers readers the opportunity to learn a little more about the complexity of an "everyday" hot beverage but it otherwise has the potential to spark a little motivation in being more ethical about our coffee selection and seek quality where possible. 


***

Have you read this book? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 

Wednesday, 28 November 2018

China Rich Girlfriend (2015)

The sequel to Kevin Kwan's Crazy Rich Asians was published in 2015 by DoubleDay (Penguin books). The novel is 526 pages long (a digital edition 400 in print) and is divided into three parts. Kwan chooses to title his chapters largely by the location of the given scene but occasionally opts to focus on particular characters, thus reflected in his chapter headings. I will share my thoughts on the continuation of this story and compare it to the previous novel as well as how it met my expectations.



In terms of the progression of the storyline, the China Rich Girlfriend begins a couple of years after the previous one's end. I was glad that both the Nick and Rachel and Astrid and Micheal plots were developed. The latter definitely offered great value to the novel as a whole and I felt it was well presented and delicately recounted. Astrid's character is still like-able and I appreciate the way Kwan presented her relationship struggles. The former storyline was fairly steady though there was not tremendous focus on their relationship in relation to the many other events.

I personally wanted this sequel to develop the drama between Nick and Rachel and Nick's family (especially in Tyersall Park) yet the title clearly indicates the shift away from Singaporean affairs into Chinese territory. For this reason we have a host of new characters and an unexpected focus on
a smaller character from the first novel (who I won't disclose to avoid potential spoilers). While I wasn't personally too keen on this storyline, it did offer a perspective on trying to enter Hong Kong high society despite one's history.

Before getting hold of this novel, I was warned by other readers that it was a good book but not as good as the first one (as is often the case). Someone on instagram mentioned that they felt that this novel had "too much brand identification" and upon reflection, I can see why. The storyline is interesting but not quite as gripping as the first and often it feels like there are long lists of brands and other expensive things.

Overall, I found this novel was less rich in history and culture and despite the shortcoming of expensive lists, it makes for a nice casual read. I intend to read the final of the trilogy because it seems to offer the storyline I was hoping for: the dynamics between Nick and his family, especially with his grandmother.

***

Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts on it below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 

Thursday, 25 October 2018

Crazy Rich Asians (2013)

Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan has recently been turned into a successful Hollywood movie, with the first ever all-Asian cast. The novel was a bestseller and was published in 2013 by Corvus in the US and later by Doubleday. I got hold of the Kindle edition as it was on offer for 99p. The novel is 538 pages long and divided into three parts. I'll briefly cover the writing style and key insights that I found refreshing in my reading. 


The novel is preceded by a disturbing yet fabulous prologue. Each part begins with a quote about the Chinese. The first two parts are divided into chapters that focus into specific characters, either one at a time or as a family. In this way we are gradually introduced to the key personages who make up the complex social dynamic of the novel. In the third part, the chapters are headed by location and the earlier characters are merged into mutual social situations. By focusing onto characters separately at the beginning, the novel reminded me of Shafak's The Forty Rules of Love, however Kwan's insights and style of writing are immensely more interesting and engaging. Through his unnamed narrator Kwan gives the reader selected snippets of information about given characters, sometimes choosing to flashback in time to contextualise their present circumstances. Kwan also includes lots of "Singlish" terminology and words from various Chinese dialects, but these terms and others are comprehensively explained in the footnotes. 

While this novel does have a central romantic couple, it does not feel like a romance in the conventional sense, because this couple's relationship has already been long established (two years) so there is little courting involved. Even so, the couple are (for me) quite likeable because they are mature (nearing 30) and are generally reasonable and sensible personalities. Nicholas's "fatal flaw" is his naivety but no one is perfect and this also drives the plot. 

As Kwan admits, his motive for writing this novel was to give Americans an insight into another lesser known reality of contemporary Asia. For this reason, the book works very much as a socio-cultural tour guide or travel book into the wealthy world of Singapore. There is a sense of it being more of a touristic adventure which allows the reader and Rachel (a Chinese-American) to gain an exclusive insight into a new culture, world and family. In some ways I felt that the extreme wealth of the Singaporeans functioned as some sort of magical powers (money is power, right?) and so it felt other-worldly and bordered on fantasy in my personal experience. This made it even more fun to read.  

Some of the issues that Kwan touches on include racial discrimination as well as social class and standing. He also explains the difference between Old Money and New Money Chinese families and how this is relevant historically as well as in contemporary circles. In this way I felt that I learnt a little about the history of China and its people, including their migration. We also quite quickly realise that Singaporeans love their food, which can result in some friendly argumentation. 

Overall, I found the writing to be dynamic and catchy. I was immediately gripped into the novel and felt like I was exploring a whole new world and culture. Despite being worlds apart to the protagonists, they still captured my interest and care, and Kwan competently deals with socio-political issues while maintaining a strong narrative and plot. I'm on the verge of buying the sequel, and I hope I won't be disappointed! 

***

Have you read this novel or watched the film? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts. 

Sunday, 14 October 2018

The Forty Rules of Love (2009)

I finally bought a copy of The Forty Rules of Love, because kindle was offering it for 99p so I obviously had to download it. Elif's Shafak's novel was initially published in 2009 though I downloaded the 2015 edition published by Penguin. It is 350 pages long and divided into five parts, which are associated with the four elements and "The Void". I'll briefly summarise what the novel is about, and then share my thoughts on the writing style and some of the ideas expressed in the novel. 



The novel follows two plots. It begins with Ella, who is a wealthy middle-aged, (non-practising) Jewish American housewife with three children. She is at a turning point in her life as she takes up a job with a literary agency. Her first manuscript that she needs to report on is the source of the second plot, and it is a novel about Shams of Tabriz and Rumi, the renowned Sufi mystics of the 13th century. Ella is dissatisfied with her life and the manuscript and the author's words push her to view and experience life differently. 

In terms of structure and style, Shafak plays with the chronology of the two plots by firstly intertwining them but also by revealing scenes from the end at the beginning and then taking the reader through the journey of revealing how those initial decisions came to be made. I'm not sure if this was a good structural move for the Shams story. The novel within a novel Sweet Blasphemy is written through the perspectives of numerous characters, who are interconnected by circumstance. In doing so, it offers several people's engagement with faith and religion, varying from indifference and hopelessness to the "zealot" and the mystic, which are valuable in their own ways. 

However, despite creating these different characters, who speak in their own chapters, and who offer their own experiences (thus changing the content), the style of writing seems fairly unchanging. The lack of variation in these characterisations resulted in me not being able to really get invested in any of the characters. Also, each character's chapter is relatively short (even if we meet them several times) and so this limits one's attachment too. Ella's emails provided a slight change, but that may have also been because it was a change of plot too. So I mainly continued to read for the characterisations of Rumi and Shams of Tabriz, who are renowned personages outside of this novel and thus piqued my interest more greatly. 

The novel's main theme, as expressed in the title, is love. It explores the transformative powers of love (and not only romantic love) and it contextualises Shams of Tabriz's forty rules of love by engaging with various characters and human experiences. I think this is a really nice idea, though I am less convinced by the execution of this concept due to the writing style and some structural reservations. 

As well as love, Shafak clearly wants to write about faith and religion. I appreciate her nuanced viewpoints of this controversial and delicate subject (since in many ways religion is considered hugely problematic and almost taboo or backwards now). This is a brave topic to engage with and she provides her readers with an opportunity to look at religion with a more open-eyed approach. Despite this, I did have some reservations about a couple of her descriptions of Sufis, that I felt were problematic, such as a protagonist claiming to be "spiritual not religious" and that Sufis are "not violent even when they have a reason". I felt that these expressions in particular pander to Western expectations of Sufism so it suits them. The first one is problematic because it seems to absolve the likeable character of the "ugly" label of religion, when rather the label should not be considered ugly, as religion comprises of spirituality. The second is problematic because it implies that Sufis (the good guys in this book and the "good Muslims" in Western discourse) ought to be passive and pacifists, which removes their right to self-defence, for example. Later in the novel Shafak counters the second notion slightly by stating that "There's a difference between patience and passivity", which I agree with more. 

Overall, I found that the idea behind the novel was promising, but the execution of it was not to my liking. The writing took some getting used to and perhaps that may be partly because Shafak is not a native English speaker. I do not know if that is the case or rather because I personally did not find myself invested in the story or characters. Nevertheless Shafak shares the importance and universality of love and how it can break barriers and transform people from all backgrounds and experiences, including those most "disconnected" from the real world or notions of injustice. The praise this novel received no doubt created high expectations and I was somewhat let down. I would give it about 3 stars. 

***

Have you read this novel? What did you think of it? Comment your thoughts on it below, I'd love to hear what you thought. 

*** 

Follow me on instagram @nafisasiddique for updates on my latest posts.