menniemenace's review
3.0
As a fellow Cairo dweller, I was so excited when I heard about this book. It was an interesting read, but I don't know how I feel about it.
I didn't know Diwan was established by women. That's super cool. It's even cooler that it's a passion project done by women who love reading and books.
I liked the chapter on self-help. I really get her point about these books not resonating with our culture most of the time. The Egyptian self-help isn't that great either, but she doesn't read in Arabic so I guess she wouldn't know.
I liked many things about this. The all-around experience of reading it was positive. I will recommend it to people.
However, some stuff about it irked me. They triggered emotional responses because of things that I felt were insensitive bourgeoisie rants.
Had I been a rich woman who has a driver and a team of people to pay my bribes and haggle for me, I would have seen myself here. Sadly, I'm not. (I totally wish I were, though. Paying bribes is a minefield.
Full disclosure: I have never been to Diwan. It's too expensive. The author doesn't really talk much about how ridiculously expensive books are in Egypt.
The whole book has a very "I'm too rich for this" vibe. I mean it's about a woman who started her own business in Zamalek. She doesn't read in Arabic because her Arabic isn't all that good, she talks about her helpers - servants, employees, people she buys stuff from- in a vaguely pitying way... "Oh, those poor public schoolers who live in unattractive places and can't read in 3 languages... Disgusting"
Honestly, my biggest problem with this book is the mimic woman vibe it gave off. It had nothing Egyptian about it. The everyday people were basically caricatures; kind but racist/sexist/traditional and stiff. No one was really fleshed out as a person except the author who was not keen on the country.
I get it. People are sexist, bureaucracy is a nightmare, and the cultural scene isn't that impressive. However, she wasn't living the normal life of an everyday person, which she barely acknowledges. She doesn't speak about the readers, she doesn't mention any Egyptian contemporary writers and the whole book feels like it was adapted to Egyptian culture instead of being written by an Egyptian person.
I didn't know Diwan was established by women. That's super cool. It's even cooler that it's a passion project done by women who love reading and books.
I liked the chapter on self-help. I really get her point about these books not resonating with our culture most of the time. The Egyptian self-help isn't that great either, but she doesn't read in Arabic so I guess she wouldn't know.
I liked many things about this. The all-around experience of reading it was positive. I will recommend it to people.
However, some stuff about it irked me. They triggered emotional responses because of things that I felt were insensitive bourgeoisie rants.
Had I been a rich woman who has a driver and a team of people to pay my bribes and haggle for me, I would have seen myself here. Sadly, I'm not. (I totally wish I were, though. Paying bribes is a minefield.
Full disclosure: I have never been to Diwan. It's too expensive. The author doesn't really talk much about how ridiculously expensive books are in Egypt.
The whole book has a very "I'm too rich for this" vibe. I mean it's about a woman who started her own business in Zamalek. She doesn't read in Arabic because her Arabic isn't all that good, she talks about her helpers - servants, employees, people she buys stuff from- in a vaguely pitying way... "Oh, those poor public schoolers who live in unattractive places and can't read in 3 languages... Disgusting"
Honestly, my biggest problem with this book is the mimic woman vibe it gave off. It had nothing Egyptian about it. The everyday people were basically caricatures; kind but racist/sexist/traditional and stiff. No one was really fleshed out as a person except the author who was not keen on the country.
I get it. People are sexist, bureaucracy is a nightmare, and the cultural scene isn't that impressive. However, she wasn't living the normal life of an everyday person, which she barely acknowledges. She doesn't speak about the readers, she doesn't mention any Egyptian contemporary writers and the whole book feels like it was adapted to Egyptian culture instead of being written by an Egyptian person.
backpackfullofbooks's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
siria's review
informative
2.75
A memoir from Nadia Wassef about her experiences co-founding one of the best-known bookstores in Egypt, roughly chronological but arranged around themes like "Egypt Essentials" and "Pregnancy and Parenting." This wasn't really what I'd expected going into the book, and Wassef is such an obliviously abrasive narrator in so many ways that I didn't enjoy Shelf Life very much. Unlike many other GoodReads reviewers, I didn't care about Wassef's use of profanity—it's frequent, yes, but if you find yourself clutching your pearls over how many times she uses the word 'fuck' here, I would gently suggest you never visit Ireland or you'll find yourself having a fucking stroke. It's how she spoke about many of those around her that bothered me. If my employer ever handed me a uniform with the pockets already sewn up in it out of the presumption that I'm likely a thief? I would be walking out of there ASAP.