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archytas 's review for:
I, The Divine: A Novel in First Chapters
by Rabih Alameddine
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
There is a conceit at the hidden heart of this novel - that there is an essential anecdote, story or statement which can sum someone up. In giving us repeated attempts for our protagonist Sarah to write the first chapter of her memoir, we see her cast around for the moment, the relationship, the aspect of her and her life that will explain her to us. And without doubt, for me, the most magnificent thing about the book is the way that Alameddine lands this, and uses this structure to deconstruct that concept, to challenge singularities. Throughout the book, I kept wondering how he would land the last first chapter; frankly, it was simply perfect.
Other themes thread the book, especially the functioning of extended families, the experience of fitting between cultures, and how we create our reality by telling stories just as we reflect it. These are wells of deep utility to Alameddine, and this combination reminded me of his Hakawati, a tonally sharply different book that feels like a different take on the same themes.
It wasn't perfect. I have high standards for Alameddine, one of my most loved writers, like perfection, dammit). The chapters have less stylistic variation than I expected, and for better or for worse, it was possible to simply forget sometimes that this wasn't a continuous narrative. I have often felt that authors without experience of sexual assault write in a way that it shows, and this didn't change my mind.
But ultimately, the strengths are strong - the characters so alive, and the tonal shifts so beautifully carried off - and last chapter so lovely in rounding it all off.
Other themes thread the book, especially the functioning of extended families, the experience of fitting between cultures, and how we create our reality by telling stories just as we reflect it. These are wells of deep utility to Alameddine, and this combination reminded me of his Hakawati, a tonally sharply different book that feels like a different take on the same themes.
It wasn't perfect. I have high standards for Alameddine, one of my most loved writers, like perfection, dammit). The chapters have less stylistic variation than I expected, and for better or for worse, it was possible to simply forget sometimes that this wasn't a continuous narrative. I have often felt that authors without experience of sexual assault write in a way that it shows, and this didn't change my mind.
But ultimately, the strengths are strong - the characters so alive, and the tonal shifts so beautifully carried off - and last chapter so lovely in rounding it all off.