anisa9's review against another edition
3.0
Very mixed feelings about this book (debating between 3 starts to 2 stars) I feel like a lot of the ideas and conflicts were repeated so often it became redundant. I wouldn’t say it’s a plot driven book, but it does pick up its pace at moments. The prose is beautiful but the characters were two dimensional and weren’t engaging. There is a lot of jumping between perspectives and maybe that isn’t for me. I found that the ending wasn’t as impactful, and almost predictable. The ending only picked up in the last 10 pages and it felt slightly disconnected from the rest of the story. Nonetheless the characters’ conflicts with religion and morality was really interesting and reflective of their society. I just wish that instead of circling around the same issues and same dilemas throughout the entire story, something more was presented.
skipjack's review against another edition
4.0
Zeina follows the lives of Zeina bint Zeinat, the biological daughter of Bodour, Bodour's other daughter Magheeda, Bodour's husband Zacharia, Bodour's cousin "the emir," and a whole cast of characters who appear, disappear, re-appear, die, live again, or are lost forever. At 19, Bodour becomes pregnant with a fellow protester, Nassim. He is killed shortly thereafter (don't worry, that's not a spoiler). Afraid of the scandal of having an illegitimate child, Bodour abandons her daughter, Zeina, on the street. Zeina grows up to become one of the foremost performers in Egypt, mesmerizing fans and critics alike - appearing and disappearing as a mirror by which the subjects of the book analyze their own successes and failures.
Really, though, this book is a glimpse into the mind of a woman who is dead while still alive. The narrative is disjointed and dream-like, returning over and over again to a few snippets of experience. It is unclear when in time certain passages occur, and often a 2-page passage of plot will end with the person waking up. It's a bit of a maddening read, but so lyrical - and so much like memory itself - that the recursiveness is an asset.
That's not to say that the book didn't have flaws. El Saadawi is definitely didactic. Just as there are snipets of experience that appear over and over, there are viewpoints that do as well. The senseless violence of men, the devaluation of women in religion (not just Islam), how men want to control women. It gets a little tiring. The men in the story (except for the few who die too early to become corrupted) rape anyone and everyone: children, their wives, sex workers, servants, and others' wives. Only in the last part of the book does the narrative go beyond the senseless violence men do to women, and on to the agency of women. Which is not to say that senseless violence by men is not worth writing about, but that as a reader I grew frustrated with the female characters' clouded minds.
Overall, though, a beautiful, confusing read.
Really, though, this book is a glimpse into the mind of a woman who is dead while still alive. The narrative is disjointed and dream-like, returning over and over again to a few snippets of experience. It is unclear when in time certain passages occur, and often a 2-page passage of plot will end with the person waking up. It's a bit of a maddening read, but so lyrical - and so much like memory itself - that the recursiveness is an asset.
That's not to say that the book didn't have flaws. El Saadawi is definitely didactic. Just as there are snipets of experience that appear over and over, there are viewpoints that do as well. The senseless violence of men, the devaluation of women in religion (not just Islam), how men want to control women. It gets a little tiring. The men in the story (except for the few who die too early to become corrupted) rape anyone and everyone: children, their wives, sex workers, servants, and others' wives. Only in the last part of the book does the narrative go beyond the senseless violence men do to women, and on to the agency of women. Which is not to say that senseless violence by men is not worth writing about, but that as a reader I grew frustrated with the female characters' clouded minds.
Overall, though, a beautiful, confusing read.
lisagray68's review against another edition
1.0
This book looks great - and I love reading translated books and books about other cultures. However, I just couldn't get through this one.
I was often unsure who was speaking - seems like the author switches narrators/narration often and sometimes it is first person from the daughter Mageeda, sometimes it is third person about the mother, Bodour. Also, the mother has written a novel that parallels her life, and sometimes the book goes off on a long tangent about the main character of the book. I couldn't make any sense of it.
It's possible that it is a translation problem...?
I was often unsure who was speaking - seems like the author switches narrators/narration often and sometimes it is first person from the daughter Mageeda, sometimes it is third person about the mother, Bodour. Also, the mother has written a novel that parallels her life, and sometimes the book goes off on a long tangent about the main character of the book. I couldn't make any sense of it.
It's possible that it is a translation problem...?
thatothernigeriangirl's review against another edition
3.0
Review Copy gifted by Saqi Books
Zeina is the second book from Nawal el-Saadawi’s oeuvre that I’ve read and I went into it with very high expectations. Like in Woman at Point Zero, el-Saadawi’s writing in Zeina is very poetic and every sentence hits its target with precision. But like a couple of reviewers pointed out in their reviews of The Fall of the Imam, el-Saadawi interweaves the characters’ stories so that the present, the past and future of every character became one confusing narration — which was frustrating. Yet I still felt the need to finish it.
Zeina tells the story of a renowned literary critic, Bodour, in a loveless marriage. She has a love affair in her younger days that resulted in a child, Zeina, that she had to give up. Zeina grows up on the streets, unknowingly, calling her paternal grandmother, mother. Her voice and love for music nudged her become an Egyptian sensation. Bodour, unaware that Zeina is her own, began to write a biographical fiction to fill the void her lost daughter left — then the novel went missing.
While the blurb gave the overall backdrop, el-Saadawi focused largely on religious hypocrisy especially where lust and desires are concerned. There were lots of repetition that I found irritable but that stressed the poetry of the narration— like how songs have choruses but make it 256 pages. Another social issue that piqued my interest is that where society allows men to freely satisfy their lusts, which results in tons of fatherless children who live their lives with the stigma of “children of sins”—and of course, they are made to feel shame for carrying their mothers’ names.
In addition to that is the thin line of love and hate that men nurture for rebellious women; they are taken in and turned on by this rebellion but harbor deep hatred for these women because of that rebellion — this is still very common nowadays. The way el-Saadawi seems to blend “God” and “satan” into one, is also interesting. The characters themselves were lost in the confusion, especially the women. I think this is a perfect allusion to why women can’t get on board with the “not all men are” phrase. Because while the characters know that God and satan are separate, they get confused to the point that they can no longer tell; similarly, women are aware that not all men will kill or break you, but every men blends into the next so that it’s difficult to tell.
I’ll still make my way through el-Saadawi’s oeuvre because I think she tells women’s stories beautifully.
Zeina is the second book from Nawal el-Saadawi’s oeuvre that I’ve read and I went into it with very high expectations. Like in Woman at Point Zero, el-Saadawi’s writing in Zeina is very poetic and every sentence hits its target with precision. But like a couple of reviewers pointed out in their reviews of The Fall of the Imam, el-Saadawi interweaves the characters’ stories so that the present, the past and future of every character became one confusing narration — which was frustrating. Yet I still felt the need to finish it.
Zeina tells the story of a renowned literary critic, Bodour, in a loveless marriage. She has a love affair in her younger days that resulted in a child, Zeina, that she had to give up. Zeina grows up on the streets, unknowingly, calling her paternal grandmother, mother. Her voice and love for music nudged her become an Egyptian sensation. Bodour, unaware that Zeina is her own, began to write a biographical fiction to fill the void her lost daughter left — then the novel went missing.
While the blurb gave the overall backdrop, el-Saadawi focused largely on religious hypocrisy especially where lust and desires are concerned. There were lots of repetition that I found irritable but that stressed the poetry of the narration— like how songs have choruses but make it 256 pages. Another social issue that piqued my interest is that where society allows men to freely satisfy their lusts, which results in tons of fatherless children who live their lives with the stigma of “children of sins”—and of course, they are made to feel shame for carrying their mothers’ names.
In addition to that is the thin line of love and hate that men nurture for rebellious women; they are taken in and turned on by this rebellion but harbor deep hatred for these women because of that rebellion — this is still very common nowadays. The way el-Saadawi seems to blend “God” and “satan” into one, is also interesting. The characters themselves were lost in the confusion, especially the women. I think this is a perfect allusion to why women can’t get on board with the “not all men are” phrase. Because while the characters know that God and satan are separate, they get confused to the point that they can no longer tell; similarly, women are aware that not all men will kill or break you, but every men blends into the next so that it’s difficult to tell.
I’ll still make my way through el-Saadawi’s oeuvre because I think she tells women’s stories beautifully.
kikiandarrowsfishshelf's review against another edition
4.0
It is interesting reading this book after discovering that El Sadwaal camped out in Tahir Square. Zeina is a book about the roles or lack of them that men and women are forced to play. The primary focus is on the treatment of women.
At first glance the novel appears to be a story about Bodour and her illegitimate daughter Zeina, the novel is more a story of alternating viewpoints, mostly those of various women, but every so often a view of a man creeps in. It also deals with how religion can be used to subjugate, not just in Islam but also in Christianity and Judaism.
The use of language is beautiful and pointed. From a statement like “How He [God] command a woman to desire her husband when he dominated her” to a description like “Her [Zeina’s] eyes were two blue volcanic stones, two dark flames that changed with the movement of the earth around the sun”.
If you are not bothered by the shifting viewpoints and lack of traditional structure this is a lovely book.
At first glance the novel appears to be a story about Bodour and her illegitimate daughter Zeina, the novel is more a story of alternating viewpoints, mostly those of various women, but every so often a view of a man creeps in. It also deals with how religion can be used to subjugate, not just in Islam but also in Christianity and Judaism.
The use of language is beautiful and pointed. From a statement like “How He [God] command a woman to desire her husband when he dominated her” to a description like “Her [Zeina’s] eyes were two blue volcanic stones, two dark flames that changed with the movement of the earth around the sun”.
If you are not bothered by the shifting viewpoints and lack of traditional structure this is a lovely book.
whatadutchgirlreads's review against another edition
challenging
dark
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
Content Warnings
Moderate: Child abuse and Rape
josiegz's review
challenging
dark
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.75
This is a moving, albeit difficult novel to read, taking place in the backdrop of revolution in Cairo. Nawal El Saadawi gives the reader an insight into what it is like for women to grow up in Cairo, through the eyes of both rich (but highly controlled and restrained) women, as well as those who grow up in poverty, but with greater freedom.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Rape, Child abuse, Violence, Toxic relationship, Sexual violence, Religious bigotry, and Gun violence
reallifereading's review
2.0
I’ve been wondering what to say about this book for over a week now.
While I like reading translated books (and I made it my personal goal this month to read more translated works – quick update: I am not doing very well, having only read 5 translated books so far), many of these books tend to be serious, heavy reads. Zeina is no exception. It is such a heavy hitter. It took me nearly the whole library-sanctioned three weeks to read. And every time I put it down, I was exhausted, my brain nothing more than scrambled eggs.
And so I present to you, the synopsis from Goodreads. Because that was what made me decide to pick it up:
Bodour, a distinguished literary critic and university professor, carries with her a dark secret. As a young university student, she fell in love with a political activist and gave birth to an illegitimate daughter, Zeina, whom she abandoned on the streets of Cairo.
Zeina grows up to become one of Egypt’s most beloved entertainers, despite being deprived of a name and a home. In contrast, Bodour remains trapped in a loveless marriage, pining for her daughter. In an attempt to find solace she turns to literature, writing a fictionalized account of her life. But when the novel goes missing, Bodour is forced on a journey of self discovery, reliving and reshaping her past and her future.
Will Bodour ever discover who stole the novel? Is there any hope of her being reunited with Zeina?
It sounds like a potentially great story, doesn’t it?
Zeina starts out ok enough. Bodour, despite her hard life, is a decent character. She had to abandon her daughter and see her grow up right in her very neighbourhood, and play with her legitimate daughter Mageeda. Her daughter Zeina has this goddess-like aura about her, her gift for music enabling her to blast past her humble background and into the hearts of everyone. Bodour’s husband, a newspaper columnist, is such a loathsome man who cheats on her. Mageeda inherits her writing skills from her parents (if that is possible) and becomes a journalist but seems to be filled with self-loathing. It’s an ugly life.
But the narrative switches too quickly from one character to another, and from childhood to present, and with little warning. I suppose this must be some kind of psychological tactic. To create the confusion in the reader’s mind that Bodour probably feels. There are parts that are repeated and the general feeling while reading it is one of disconnect, of an uneasiness, a disconcertedness. It is an uncomfortable, difficult read. Perhaps it needs someone with better literary understanding? I don’t know. I’m at odds with this book. Is this something that Nawal El Saadawi does with all her fiction? I’m hesitant to pick up another of hers now….
While I like reading translated books (and I made it my personal goal this month to read more translated works – quick update: I am not doing very well, having only read 5 translated books so far), many of these books tend to be serious, heavy reads. Zeina is no exception. It is such a heavy hitter. It took me nearly the whole library-sanctioned three weeks to read. And every time I put it down, I was exhausted, my brain nothing more than scrambled eggs.
And so I present to you, the synopsis from Goodreads. Because that was what made me decide to pick it up:
Bodour, a distinguished literary critic and university professor, carries with her a dark secret. As a young university student, she fell in love with a political activist and gave birth to an illegitimate daughter, Zeina, whom she abandoned on the streets of Cairo.
Zeina grows up to become one of Egypt’s most beloved entertainers, despite being deprived of a name and a home. In contrast, Bodour remains trapped in a loveless marriage, pining for her daughter. In an attempt to find solace she turns to literature, writing a fictionalized account of her life. But when the novel goes missing, Bodour is forced on a journey of self discovery, reliving and reshaping her past and her future.
Will Bodour ever discover who stole the novel? Is there any hope of her being reunited with Zeina?
It sounds like a potentially great story, doesn’t it?
Zeina starts out ok enough. Bodour, despite her hard life, is a decent character. She had to abandon her daughter and see her grow up right in her very neighbourhood, and play with her legitimate daughter Mageeda. Her daughter Zeina has this goddess-like aura about her, her gift for music enabling her to blast past her humble background and into the hearts of everyone. Bodour’s husband, a newspaper columnist, is such a loathsome man who cheats on her. Mageeda inherits her writing skills from her parents (if that is possible) and becomes a journalist but seems to be filled with self-loathing. It’s an ugly life.
But the narrative switches too quickly from one character to another, and from childhood to present, and with little warning. I suppose this must be some kind of psychological tactic. To create the confusion in the reader’s mind that Bodour probably feels. There are parts that are repeated and the general feeling while reading it is one of disconnect, of an uneasiness, a disconcertedness. It is an uncomfortable, difficult read. Perhaps it needs someone with better literary understanding? I don’t know. I’m at odds with this book. Is this something that Nawal El Saadawi does with all her fiction? I’m hesitant to pick up another of hers now….
skorned's review
1.0
This book was really weird, and it took me forever to finish. It jumps around from character to character, without warning, and from first person to third person, from a book a character is writing to the real world of the novel and back in forth in time, without warning. Most of the time I spent reading this was rereading parts that came before because I was confused. The author also focused a lot on certain physical characteristics of characters, which was weird; I probably read the phrase "chubby fingers" a dozen times, maybe more. I also had a hard time connecting with any of the characters, firstly because it was so confusingly written, and secondly because it seemed like they said and thought the same things over and over again, but we never really got to know them. I'm sure there is a lot that I'm missing due to not being Egyptian, but I really wanted to enjoy this book, but instead slogged my way through it, wishing it made more sense and were just plain better. I'd like to try something else from Nawal El-Saadawi, because I can't believe this is her best work.
lisagray68's review
1.0
This book looks great - and I love reading translated books and books about other cultures. However, I just couldn't get through this one.
I was often unsure who was speaking - seems like the author switches narrators/narration often and sometimes it is first person from the daughter Mageeda, sometimes it is third person about the mother, Bodour. Also, the mother has written a novel that parallels her life, and sometimes the book goes off on a long tangent about the main character of the book. I couldn't make any sense of it.
It's possible that it is a translation problem...?
I was often unsure who was speaking - seems like the author switches narrators/narration often and sometimes it is first person from the daughter Mageeda, sometimes it is third person about the mother, Bodour. Also, the mother has written a novel that parallels her life, and sometimes the book goes off on a long tangent about the main character of the book. I couldn't make any sense of it.
It's possible that it is a translation problem...?
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