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jenail's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
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
5.0
My absolute favorite book. The first time I read it (not on my own accord but for a class) I read it all in one night, closed the book and sobbed. An amazing characterization of Syria during the French mandate and an excellent message on Arab feminism that I don't think any western feminist pieces have captured.
nealadolph's review against another edition
3.0
I wasn't intending on reading this book. Christa Wolf's Cassandra was supposed to be read in it's place, but then I set that aside and reached out to this one instead. I think I'm fortunate to have it in my collection, though I'm not sure it will stay there for long. It mustn't have gotten many prints when it was released in English and so I assume it is quite rare. I found it at a used book sale - one of those massive charity events where you see all sorts of familiar classics and discarded contemporary works. I walked through looking for unfamiliar names that sounded like they weren't "North American". It isn't a perfect method, but I've got a good sense of genealogy and language and naming conventions around the world so I like to think I can recognize small things. And it has led me to some pretty fantastic discoveries in the past and helped me move further and further into the vast library of world literature that is so frequently invisible in the big box book store that holds a near monopoly over my city.
Ulfat Idilbi fit my intrigue on that day in that book sale, so I picked up the book, read the back cover, and decided to add it to my small but growing pile to be purchased at a ridiculous discount. And given the Syrian Refugee crisis from the past several months I felt it was an appropriate time to give it a go - help me understand something of the nation which is at the heart of so much attention in the 2015 media.
I’m glad I read this book.
It caught me off guard in many ways.
First, I think it is worth noting that I know very little about Middle Eastern history or culture, just some snaps of the past and tiny episodes, and much of it is presented to me in an American or British or Canadian voice - sometimes I get to hear it from friends of mine who are Turkish or Iranian and the place becomes a great deal more remarkable and humane. These are both features that I strive for in my own work as a historian, but I work in a markedly different region with an entirely different history.
I think it is also worth noting that I haven’t read much literature from this region. Actually, I don’t think I have ever read any literature from this region - Naguib Mahfouz is on my shelf, and some others from North Eastern Africa might fit into that cultural zone as well. I haven’t even read any Israeli literature, though I have a book by a Palestinian that I would like to read soon, and The Owl has looked down and me at times and wondered why I haven’t decided to read it, and Elias Khoury looks marvelous. But for some reason or other I haven’t read any of these things, and so the literary of the voice of this area has always been silent for me.
I suppose that is no longer true, and certainly the voice Idilbi uses in this book is passionate and compassionate and opens up a whole different world than I can understand or truly appreciate without exploring more of the literature that her novel is talking to.
I can tell you that Idilbi’s work reveals a deep passion and love for her country - perhaps stronger than my own for Canada. The main character, Sabriya, loves Syria, she loves the Syrian people. She wants it to be free of the French who at one time had turned the region into one of its many colonial outposts. She admires the strength and fortitude of those who fight and those who support the fighters, and she herself helps as much as she is permitted to. She sells her pieces of jewellery, or gives it to fighters (including her brother) so that they can purchase their own armaments and food. This is, after all, a rebel force. It needs to be self-funded.
Sabriya is also incredibly intelligent - she has a clear sense of justice, of right and wrong, and she uses it to understand her world, including the potential threat of having Hitler come to the Middle East and become the new ruler over Syria. It is not something that Sabriya wants - she perhaps doesn’t have a thorough understanding of Hitler’s evil (but few of his contemporaries did) but she does understand him as another colonial ruler. No better or worse than the French, by her judgement. His tanks would offer no liberation to their country, but only a renewed oppression. Sabriya is skeptical.
Sabriya is also a feminist, fighting as best as she can against the various forms of oppression that she faces in her family, her society, her politics. This is perhaps the most impressive pairing of ideas that this novel provides - the mixing of the feminist ideal with the nationalist ideal, how easily the two could be combined but how quickly they founder at the hands of domineering and spiteful men who abuse their power (including her other brother). She wants to live without the veil, without the need to conceal, without the need to host the mourning for each dying family member, without the restrictions on her involvement in her country’s liberation.
And so it is quite sad to see that, though the connection between the liberation of the country and the liberation of the woman is clearly intended to be seen as partnered battles, one movement is a total success and the other is a lifelong struggle against oppressions of all sorts. Indeed, the entire story of Sabriya’s bittersweet life is one told in rememberance, from her diary, read by her neice who found her hanging body in the courtyard of her grandfather’s home. Suicide. Sabriya fought and fought and fought but in a moment of complete vulnerability, when conventions made her nothing more than the pawn in some game for her brothers and their wives to play, rather than accept the reality and continue living a life of disappointed hopes, lost love, and emotional exhaustion, she committed suicide.
It’s a striking story. Heartbreaking in retrospect. I’ve given the book to my mom. I think she will enjoy it.
Ulfat Idilbi fit my intrigue on that day in that book sale, so I picked up the book, read the back cover, and decided to add it to my small but growing pile to be purchased at a ridiculous discount. And given the Syrian Refugee crisis from the past several months I felt it was an appropriate time to give it a go - help me understand something of the nation which is at the heart of so much attention in the 2015 media.
I’m glad I read this book.
It caught me off guard in many ways.
First, I think it is worth noting that I know very little about Middle Eastern history or culture, just some snaps of the past and tiny episodes, and much of it is presented to me in an American or British or Canadian voice - sometimes I get to hear it from friends of mine who are Turkish or Iranian and the place becomes a great deal more remarkable and humane. These are both features that I strive for in my own work as a historian, but I work in a markedly different region with an entirely different history.
I think it is also worth noting that I haven’t read much literature from this region. Actually, I don’t think I have ever read any literature from this region - Naguib Mahfouz is on my shelf, and some others from North Eastern Africa might fit into that cultural zone as well. I haven’t even read any Israeli literature, though I have a book by a Palestinian that I would like to read soon, and The Owl has looked down and me at times and wondered why I haven’t decided to read it, and Elias Khoury looks marvelous. But for some reason or other I haven’t read any of these things, and so the literary of the voice of this area has always been silent for me.
I suppose that is no longer true, and certainly the voice Idilbi uses in this book is passionate and compassionate and opens up a whole different world than I can understand or truly appreciate without exploring more of the literature that her novel is talking to.
I can tell you that Idilbi’s work reveals a deep passion and love for her country - perhaps stronger than my own for Canada. The main character, Sabriya, loves Syria, she loves the Syrian people. She wants it to be free of the French who at one time had turned the region into one of its many colonial outposts. She admires the strength and fortitude of those who fight and those who support the fighters, and she herself helps as much as she is permitted to. She sells her pieces of jewellery, or gives it to fighters (including her brother) so that they can purchase their own armaments and food. This is, after all, a rebel force. It needs to be self-funded.
Sabriya is also incredibly intelligent - she has a clear sense of justice, of right and wrong, and she uses it to understand her world, including the potential threat of having Hitler come to the Middle East and become the new ruler over Syria. It is not something that Sabriya wants - she perhaps doesn’t have a thorough understanding of Hitler’s evil (but few of his contemporaries did) but she does understand him as another colonial ruler. No better or worse than the French, by her judgement. His tanks would offer no liberation to their country, but only a renewed oppression. Sabriya is skeptical.
Sabriya is also a feminist, fighting as best as she can against the various forms of oppression that she faces in her family, her society, her politics. This is perhaps the most impressive pairing of ideas that this novel provides - the mixing of the feminist ideal with the nationalist ideal, how easily the two could be combined but how quickly they founder at the hands of domineering and spiteful men who abuse their power (including her other brother). She wants to live without the veil, without the need to conceal, without the need to host the mourning for each dying family member, without the restrictions on her involvement in her country’s liberation.
And so it is quite sad to see that, though the connection between the liberation of the country and the liberation of the woman is clearly intended to be seen as partnered battles, one movement is a total success and the other is a lifelong struggle against oppressions of all sorts. Indeed, the entire story of Sabriya’s bittersweet life is one told in rememberance, from her diary, read by her neice who found her hanging body in the courtyard of her grandfather’s home. Suicide. Sabriya fought and fought and fought but in a moment of complete vulnerability, when conventions made her nothing more than the pawn in some game for her brothers and their wives to play, rather than accept the reality and continue living a life of disappointed hopes, lost love, and emotional exhaustion, she committed suicide.
It’s a striking story. Heartbreaking in retrospect. I’ve given the book to my mom. I think she will enjoy it.
chaolwestfall's review
4.0
I read this book for #DiversityBingo2017 as a book with an Arab protagonist (own voices).
Sabriya has committed suicide and left a journal of her life for her 15 year old niece. In this journal she narrates the Syrian revolution against the French occupation in the 1920's. She narrates the domestic and emotional abuse her family has put her through, the sexism and dichotomy of a society that confines women between the 4 walls of their houses, she also speaks of lost love and death and depression.
This book was so raw and hit on so many topics. If you're looking for an intersectional feminist story that depicts the lives of Syrian women in a historical period, then I would highly recommend you read this. One of the things that hit me the most is realizing that the majority of atoricities committed against the Syrians in this narration is not that far off from what's happening in Syria nowadays. It was also very enlightening and discusses an event I have not read about before.
The writing was so beautiful. You can genuinely feel when the Sabriya was at her happiest, and how events that she goes through change her in the way she writes, you can tell when she starts going mad, when she becomes depressed, you can foresee the suicide halfway through the book. It is somehow always in the back of my mind that this novel was written in the 80's about an earlier period all together. The author has herself had to leave school and was forced to be married at the age of 17 and discharge from her education. This made reading these personal entries even more heartbreaking because you can tell they come from personal experience.
I'm going to put some of my favorite quotes that discuss important issues:
"I am helpless, helpless. There are generations behind the way I have been brought up. Over the ages religion, customs, and tradition have imposed taboos with roots so strong in our hearts that the are venerated. "
"It was totally unacceptable for a young veiled girl to walk out with young men even when they were close relations. I felt a sense of oppression. I had been defeated. This humiliation made me introspective even at that tender age."
"I long for more freedom, for honor, and for a better life. We live in our own country, oppressed and despised."
"After this calamity Damascus became like a humble dove that fold its wings over a fracture and remains silent in steadfast defiance. Damascus, a smile of sorrow, harboring tragedy. The secret of your eternal survival, dear Damascus, is that silence in the face of disaster. You have suffered so much. Through raids and plunder, you remain forever." this quote in particular is so relevant to nowadays.
"Why is it that the people of my country demand freedom and at the same time cannot grant it to each other? Half the nation was shackled in chains created by men. That is a wrong we refuse to acknowledge." THIS QUOTE!!!
"Why aren't women taking part in the demonstration? Don't women have the right to defend their country? How long will half the nation remain paralyzed?"
Overall, this is an important read, with a lot to learn from.
Sabriya has committed suicide and left a journal of her life for her 15 year old niece. In this journal she narrates the Syrian revolution against the French occupation in the 1920's. She narrates the domestic and emotional abuse her family has put her through, the sexism and dichotomy of a society that confines women between the 4 walls of their houses, she also speaks of lost love and death and depression.
This book was so raw and hit on so many topics. If you're looking for an intersectional feminist story that depicts the lives of Syrian women in a historical period, then I would highly recommend you read this. One of the things that hit me the most is realizing that the majority of atoricities committed against the Syrians in this narration is not that far off from what's happening in Syria nowadays. It was also very enlightening and discusses an event I have not read about before.
The writing was so beautiful. You can genuinely feel when the Sabriya was at her happiest, and how events that she goes through change her in the way she writes, you can tell when she starts going mad, when she becomes depressed, you can foresee the suicide halfway through the book. It is somehow always in the back of my mind that this novel was written in the 80's about an earlier period all together. The author has herself had to leave school and was forced to be married at the age of 17 and discharge from her education. This made reading these personal entries even more heartbreaking because you can tell they come from personal experience.
I'm going to put some of my favorite quotes that discuss important issues:
"I am helpless, helpless. There are generations behind the way I have been brought up. Over the ages religion, customs, and tradition have imposed taboos with roots so strong in our hearts that the are venerated. "
"It was totally unacceptable for a young veiled girl to walk out with young men even when they were close relations. I felt a sense of oppression. I had been defeated. This humiliation made me introspective even at that tender age."
"I long for more freedom, for honor, and for a better life. We live in our own country, oppressed and despised."
"After this calamity Damascus became like a humble dove that fold its wings over a fracture and remains silent in steadfast defiance. Damascus, a smile of sorrow, harboring tragedy. The secret of your eternal survival, dear Damascus, is that silence in the face of disaster. You have suffered so much. Through raids and plunder, you remain forever." this quote in particular is so relevant to nowadays.
"Why is it that the people of my country demand freedom and at the same time cannot grant it to each other? Half the nation was shackled in chains created by men. That is a wrong we refuse to acknowledge." THIS QUOTE!!!
"Why aren't women taking part in the demonstration? Don't women have the right to defend their country? How long will half the nation remain paralyzed?"
Overall, this is an important read, with a lot to learn from.
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