This book was chosen by Mohammad for April, and it reads close to home for the both of us. The author, Ameen Fares Rihani, is the founder of Adab Al-Mahjar, unknowingly then the progenitor of the Arabic Immigrant Renaissance in American Literature.
Self-acknowledged as half-autobiographical and half-fictional, Rihani’s protagonist, Khalid, is an immigrant from the Ottoman Empire, suffocating with hundreds and smelling of hundreds more to arrive at the chained feet of a tired Lady, torch unapologetically unlit. The structure and style of the story is very similar to the tempo and character revelations akin to "The Custom-House", the easter egg prologue within The Scarlett Letter, whereby its evidence and sources permeates with the fictional and non-fictional. Who knows? A good story is a good story.
The book reminds me of my own cultural transition living in the States. Hailing from Malaysia, a Muslim country, it was a mild surprise, to say the least, to have people speak so openly and publicly about their grievances. No shame in being forward; in fact, I feel it is a necessary characteristic so entirely lacking within the Southeast Asian, Chinese-Malaysian community I grew up in. I was taught that pain should only be borne alone and in silence, which in turn is a terrible generational family schema that enables unhealted trauma so prevalent in the family dynamics I am involved with and recognize around me. This, in my pinion, is the point Rihani wanted to drive home with each section of the novel: the differences in culture, traditions, and societal expectations, versus how to reconcile that.
I definitely felt Khalid’s lonelineness living so far away from the only reality he’s ever known, and his anger and frustration being treated less than human because he is an immigrant, as well as Muslim, and because he is dark-skinned, makes me feel a hollow slow burn inside. The book is a great refresher that:
Societal attitudes are manipulated by the rich and the powerful; we aren’t born hating brown people or hating brown immigrants
Your dream matters, period. Now nourish and discern why it does.
Surrounding yourself with caring, thoughtful and supportive friends is what you need to grow; not Usman next door texting you to shisha
That, contrary to the popular American belief, there is life beyond the shores of the U. S. and A., and some of those lives in those “foreign” countries can be pretty vastly definitely better than conditions in the States (especially right now, unfortunately).
That, contrary to the popular American belief, immigrants will keep going over oceans, seas, mountains, and borders, because, wall or wall, life is worth fighting for. A French man steals bread and there’s a musical justifying his actions, yet there’s an almost certain knee-jerk reaction to tell immigrants, especially illegal immigrants, to fuck off and not bring their problems to our land.
And lastly, that immersing yourself in the quiet solitude and company of foliage and babbling brooks, isn’t such a terrible idea.
However, it’s also a refresher for the active need to analyze the whys and hows of the institutionalized religion that one may be leaning towards/is in/has a personal, close, connection with. The novel also highlights a multitude of disparaging, hateful, anti-semitic statements, thoughts, and opinions, that clearly do not reflect the ever-growing and progressing Muslim community of today. I can’t speak for Rihani, neither do I want to, but I’d like to make clear thaat I do not condone bigotry, racism, or prejudice of any kind, and am vigilant at checking myself and learning at every opportunity.
4/5
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