mbondlamberty's review against another edition
5.0
Enjoyed this book very much. The different experiences of being a Muslim woman in different parts of the world/country is very informative.
tarinahmed's review
emotional
funny
informative
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
geving28's review
hopeful
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
4.0
yara13's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
edenrosezabo's review against another edition
5.0
This is a beautiful piece of writing. As someone who grew up in Indiana and attends Indiana University, I loved reading about the Muslim experience in setting I identify with and understand. Kahf captures the feelings of confusion when outgrowing fundamental religion and her narrator’s search for her own personal truth within religion is beautiful. I loved this book and the many emotional situations it addresses.
towardinfinitybooks's review against another edition
2.0
Mohja Kahf's fiction debut tells the story of Khadra Shamy, a Syrian Muslim girl who, at a young age, moves with her family to the United States during the 1970s, and grows up in Indiana. Khadra's parents struggle to raise their children in accordance with Islamic values, while awash in a mostly Caucasian, Christian, and very American environment. The reader follows Khadra's journey to understand herself as an American Muslim well into adulthood. She travels to Syria after her marriage breaks down, and while there, learns her mother's secrets and the meaning of prayer. She lives in Philadelphia, away from the confines of the Indiana community she was raised in, and discovers Jewish friends and a passion for photography. And finally, the reader follows Khadra when she is finally able to go home again.
Khadra's childhood and adolescence are peopled with other Muslim families with a wide variety of backgrounds. There's Aunt Khadija and Uncle Jamal al-Deen, who came to orthodox Islam by way of the Nation of Islam; the Abdul-Kadir family, Cambodian Muslims who work as doctors and engineers, rather than as full-time members of the Dawah Center; and Tayiba Thoreau's family, which consists of a Muslim American convert married to an African woman from Kenya. Through Khadra's childish perspective, Kahf creates a community of families born of differing backgrounds. As Khadra grows up, the reader also is introduced to the very real tensions that occur within the American Muslim community, as a result of immigrant beliefs about Islam colliding with converts' beliefs. There are also hints and mild suggestions that though the immigrant Muslims purport to hold different values from their American counterparts, there are more similarities than they would think.
Most of my complaints with Kahf's book are related to writing. I found the first half of the book, which describes Khadra's childhood and coming of age in Indiana, most engaging. It somewhat mirrored my personal experiences, but in terms of writing, I felt that it was too imitative of the style of Sandra Cisneros. Kahf herself has admitted in interviews that she has included direct quotes as tributes to her favorite writers (including Cisneros). There is no doubt that the quality of the writing was quite good, but I think I would have liked it better if it had more of an original effect, rather than the imitative effect that I perceived.
There is a certain "chick-lit" element to the book that I found irritating. It almost seemed as if a romantic possibility had been thrown into the book to make it more appealing to a certain type of audience or to make the book more mainstream. I wasn't and still am not entirely sure what the point of that side-plot was.
The book lacks a plot, which would not be a huge problem (for me) if some of the other issues were resolved. (Indeed, one of my favorite books, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, has the same sort of trajectory as Kahf's does - it is simply the story of a girl growing up in a certain time and in a certain place, and how she develops as a person.) The plot in Kahf's book is a girl growing up as a Muslim in America, and some may argue that that is enough of a plot as it is. Along the same lines, in terms of the structure of the book, the ending felt incomplete and was easily forgettable.
On a personal note, at times I found the content of the book unnervingly familiar. On the other hand, the book is almost too familiar, and may have lent to my dislike of it. I think I may be entering a phase, personally, where I've heard enough of the points that often get raised about political and religious progress in conversations among Muslims, so that when those discussions were described in the book, I got impatient. It seemed that there was nothing there I hadn't heard already. However, I recognize that to readers who haven't grown up in similar situations, these discussions would be new, and perhaps, interesting.
I read a couple of reviews by non-Muslims online because I was curious to see whether they had had the same reaction. I personally would not recommend this book to non-Muslims who want to learn more about the tenets of Islam. It seems like it would be more appropriate as a casual read to understand one (of many) types of environments in which American Muslims grow up. Most of the reviews I read by non-Muslims saw the book as an eye-opener to both Muslims living in the United States and those abroad (in the Middle East). Many of them do note, however, that a glossary and guide to Kahf's invocation of Arabic terms would have been useful, and that they did not have a greater understanding of Islam as a religion.
Khadra's childhood and adolescence are peopled with other Muslim families with a wide variety of backgrounds. There's Aunt Khadija and Uncle Jamal al-Deen, who came to orthodox Islam by way of the Nation of Islam; the Abdul-Kadir family, Cambodian Muslims who work as doctors and engineers, rather than as full-time members of the Dawah Center; and Tayiba Thoreau's family, which consists of a Muslim American convert married to an African woman from Kenya. Through Khadra's childish perspective, Kahf creates a community of families born of differing backgrounds. As Khadra grows up, the reader also is introduced to the very real tensions that occur within the American Muslim community, as a result of immigrant beliefs about Islam colliding with converts' beliefs. There are also hints and mild suggestions that though the immigrant Muslims purport to hold different values from their American counterparts, there are more similarities than they would think.
Most of my complaints with Kahf's book are related to writing. I found the first half of the book, which describes Khadra's childhood and coming of age in Indiana, most engaging. It somewhat mirrored my personal experiences, but in terms of writing, I felt that it was too imitative of the style of Sandra Cisneros. Kahf herself has admitted in interviews that she has included direct quotes as tributes to her favorite writers (including Cisneros). There is no doubt that the quality of the writing was quite good, but I think I would have liked it better if it had more of an original effect, rather than the imitative effect that I perceived.
There is a certain "chick-lit" element to the book that I found irritating. It almost seemed as if a romantic possibility had been thrown into the book to make it more appealing to a certain type of audience or to make the book more mainstream. I wasn't and still am not entirely sure what the point of that side-plot was.
The book lacks a plot, which would not be a huge problem (for me) if some of the other issues were resolved. (Indeed, one of my favorite books, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, has the same sort of trajectory as Kahf's does - it is simply the story of a girl growing up in a certain time and in a certain place, and how she develops as a person.) The plot in Kahf's book is a girl growing up as a Muslim in America, and some may argue that that is enough of a plot as it is. Along the same lines, in terms of the structure of the book, the ending felt incomplete and was easily forgettable.
On a personal note, at times I found the content of the book unnervingly familiar. On the other hand, the book is almost too familiar, and may have lent to my dislike of it. I think I may be entering a phase, personally, where I've heard enough of the points that often get raised about political and religious progress in conversations among Muslims, so that when those discussions were described in the book, I got impatient. It seemed that there was nothing there I hadn't heard already. However, I recognize that to readers who haven't grown up in similar situations, these discussions would be new, and perhaps, interesting.
I read a couple of reviews by non-Muslims online because I was curious to see whether they had had the same reaction. I personally would not recommend this book to non-Muslims who want to learn more about the tenets of Islam. It seems like it would be more appropriate as a casual read to understand one (of many) types of environments in which American Muslims grow up. Most of the reviews I read by non-Muslims saw the book as an eye-opener to both Muslims living in the United States and those abroad (in the Middle East). Many of them do note, however, that a glossary and guide to Kahf's invocation of Arabic terms would have been useful, and that they did not have a greater understanding of Islam as a religion.
gwend's review against another edition
4.0
Gives a detailed portrait of what it is like to grow up in America within a Muslim immigrant culture. I really enjoyed learning about all the aspects of American culture that seemed so weird and poor form to the Syrian family. She uses lots of Arabic words and references to Muslim religion and culture, and I got lost at times, so I gave it just 4 stars for that reason. Would have been nice to have more explanation. But a very worthwhile read to understand current events via a coming of age novel.
bbygotbooks's review against another edition
emotional
informative
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
I really loved this book. The language was very poetically descriptive in places while completely diving you into Islam and all of its principles and how conflicting nationalities aren’t conflicting at all and it’s just a beautiful book. Definitely will be revisiting it.
crankylibrarian's review against another edition
4.0
I can not recommend this book highly enough.
Mohja Kahf's somewhat autobiographical novel about growing up Muslim in 1970s Indiana is often a tough read, especially for anyone who clings to myths of the US as a fair-minded and welcoming place for immigrants: (“Liar,” she says to the highway sign that claims “The People of Indiana Welcome You.”) It will be equally disturbing for those who insists that there is no racism within Islam, or that allegations of sexism are a Western canard. Instead this brilliant debut novel presents Muslim American life in all its complexity and contradictions.
Khadra is the daughter of Syrian missionaries, determined to establish a Muslim community in the heart of the Midwest. While in some ways the center they create is an idyllic blend of Muslims from various ethnicities and traditions, there are conflicts; between Shia and Sunni, between political factions, and between ethnic groups. Then there are the pressures from outside; while some neighbors are friendly the majority of the white community makes it clear that these "towel heads" are not wanted.
Khadra's school experience is traumatic, especially after the Iranian revolution and American hostage crisis of 1979. Relentlessly bullied, she has her hijab ripped off and soiled while teachers silently watch, white teens drive around the center shouting "Go Home ragheads!' and elderly "militia" members threaten to report them to immigration. Even those who are not openly hostile are culturally clueless, blithely unaware of the pain Khadra and her friends feel watching Muslim homes in Iran, Iraq, Palestine and later Syria under attack. Most traumatically, a brilliant young Muslim woman fro the center is murdered, her killer never found.
As a young adult Khadra experiments with various levels of Islamic fervor and political militancy, eventually settling on a level of observance that feels right for her, while resisting the judgements of friends and her parents. A beautiful element of Kahf's writing is how she presents the spiritual incandescence of Khadra's faith. While on hajj in Saudi Arabia, the call to prayer
"thrilled her, bringing pure glory to all her senses. She'd never experienced a real adhan before, the kind that rang out over the rooftops...She had run to the window, flinging it open and leaned her head out in the early morning darkness as if to bring her whole self closer to the call. It was the long awaited invitation".
Yet while she never loses faith in Islam, the Islamic community continues to disappoint her. Following the beautiful call to prayer, she slips out to pray in the mosque...and is promptly accosted by the Saudi religious police, who mock her (valid) assertion that Islam grants women this right. Her supposedly progressive husband, uncomfortable with what others will say, forbids her to ride her bicycle. Her parents and her beloved Aunt Teta turn out to have racist beliefs.
After a spiritually healing visit to Syria with Teta, Khadra comes to accept herself and reject rigid definitions of what it means to be Muslim...or American. She moves to Philadelphia, and connects with a politically conservative upper class African American Muslim family, a young Iranian survivor of the Iranian revolution, (who sees Khadra's dark blue hijab as a reminder of the people who murdered her parents), and a "secular Muslim" guy who attempts to pressure her into having sex and who, like her mother sees Islam as "rigid and homogenous".
Khadra also develops a remarkable relationship with Bluma, a young Jewish woman, whose struggles with Orthodoxy parallel Khadra's own. And here's what I love about this story: unlike almost every fictional and nonfictional depiction of Muslim/Jewish friendships Kahf makes it clear that their only conflict is political, over Zionism. Blu is a staunch Zionist, while Khadra remembers her great uncle's murder by Zionists during the Nakba of 1948. They manage to preserve their friendship but it is clear that while Blu is not Islamophobic and Khadra is not antisemitic, this issue will always be a barrier between them.
Throughout the novel, Khadra's hijab, and her relationship to veiling and unveiling, mark stages in her spiritual maturity. As a child, buying her first hijab is an important mother/daughter moment, as well as a spiritual coming of age:
The sensation of being hijabed was a thrill. Khadra has acquired vestments of a higher order. Hijab was a crown on her head. She went forth lightly and went forth heavily into the world, carrying the weight of a new grace. [. . .] hijab soon grew to feel as natural to her as a second skin, without which if she ventured into the outside world she felt naked.
As a rigid, judgmental Islamist student, she wears dark heavy hijab, but during her transformational visit to Syria she begins to wear a beautiful lightweight tangerine scarf, a gift from Teta, which symbolizes everything she loves about Islam: faith, family, heritage, and spiritual joy. No matter how much "every Middle East crisis dredges up more American hate" she will never give it up.
A remarkable and beautiful novel which many Americans desperately need to read.
Mohja Kahf's somewhat autobiographical novel about growing up Muslim in 1970s Indiana is often a tough read, especially for anyone who clings to myths of the US as a fair-minded and welcoming place for immigrants: (“Liar,” she says to the highway sign that claims “The People of Indiana Welcome You.”) It will be equally disturbing for those who insists that there is no racism within Islam, or that allegations of sexism are a Western canard. Instead this brilliant debut novel presents Muslim American life in all its complexity and contradictions.
Khadra is the daughter of Syrian missionaries, determined to establish a Muslim community in the heart of the Midwest. While in some ways the center they create is an idyllic blend of Muslims from various ethnicities and traditions, there are conflicts; between Shia and Sunni, between political factions, and between ethnic groups. Then there are the pressures from outside; while some neighbors are friendly the majority of the white community makes it clear that these "towel heads" are not wanted.
Khadra's school experience is traumatic, especially after the Iranian revolution and American hostage crisis of 1979. Relentlessly bullied, she has her hijab ripped off and soiled while teachers silently watch, white teens drive around the center shouting "Go Home ragheads!' and elderly "militia" members threaten to report them to immigration. Even those who are not openly hostile are culturally clueless, blithely unaware of the pain Khadra and her friends feel watching Muslim homes in Iran, Iraq, Palestine and later Syria under attack. Most traumatically, a brilliant young Muslim woman fro the center is murdered, her killer never found.
As a young adult Khadra experiments with various levels of Islamic fervor and political militancy, eventually settling on a level of observance that feels right for her, while resisting the judgements of friends and her parents. A beautiful element of Kahf's writing is how she presents the spiritual incandescence of Khadra's faith. While on hajj in Saudi Arabia, the call to prayer
"thrilled her, bringing pure glory to all her senses. She'd never experienced a real adhan before, the kind that rang out over the rooftops...She had run to the window, flinging it open and leaned her head out in the early morning darkness as if to bring her whole self closer to the call. It was the long awaited invitation".
Yet while she never loses faith in Islam, the Islamic community continues to disappoint her. Following the beautiful call to prayer, she slips out to pray in the mosque...and is promptly accosted by the Saudi religious police, who mock her (valid) assertion that Islam grants women this right. Her supposedly progressive husband, uncomfortable with what others will say, forbids her to ride her bicycle. Her parents and her beloved Aunt Teta turn out to have racist beliefs.
After a spiritually healing visit to Syria with Teta, Khadra comes to accept herself and reject rigid definitions of what it means to be Muslim...or American. She moves to Philadelphia, and connects with a politically conservative upper class African American Muslim family, a young Iranian survivor of the Iranian revolution, (who sees Khadra's dark blue hijab as a reminder of the people who murdered her parents), and a "secular Muslim" guy who attempts to pressure her into having sex and who, like her mother sees Islam as "rigid and homogenous".
Khadra also develops a remarkable relationship with Bluma, a young Jewish woman, whose struggles with Orthodoxy parallel Khadra's own. And here's what I love about this story: unlike almost every fictional and nonfictional depiction of Muslim/Jewish friendships Kahf makes it clear that their only conflict is political, over Zionism. Blu is a staunch Zionist, while Khadra remembers her great uncle's murder by Zionists during the Nakba of 1948. They manage to preserve their friendship but it is clear that while Blu is not Islamophobic and Khadra is not antisemitic, this issue will always be a barrier between them.
Throughout the novel, Khadra's hijab, and her relationship to veiling and unveiling, mark stages in her spiritual maturity. As a child, buying her first hijab is an important mother/daughter moment, as well as a spiritual coming of age:
The sensation of being hijabed was a thrill. Khadra has acquired vestments of a higher order. Hijab was a crown on her head. She went forth lightly and went forth heavily into the world, carrying the weight of a new grace. [. . .] hijab soon grew to feel as natural to her as a second skin, without which if she ventured into the outside world she felt naked.
As a rigid, judgmental Islamist student, she wears dark heavy hijab, but during her transformational visit to Syria she begins to wear a beautiful lightweight tangerine scarf, a gift from Teta, which symbolizes everything she loves about Islam: faith, family, heritage, and spiritual joy. No matter how much "every Middle East crisis dredges up more American hate" she will never give it up.
A remarkable and beautiful novel which many Americans desperately need to read.
sarahbowman101's review against another edition
4.0
This book is about growing up Muslim in Indiana in the 1970s. I think that there was a lot that I didn’t get from the first reading, lacking the cultural references, but overall I found this book enjoyable. Really the main character as she develops into a woman is searching her spiritual, cultural, feminist, intellectual and religious identity. And while all her cues were different than mine, I felt that it was still identifiable. Her parents are fundamentalist Islam, but I liked them. And Kahdja self awareness moments were soft and seemed real. I will have to read this book again, but look forward to taking my time with it the second time around, as I think there is a lot to uncover. Or cover. Depending.