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A review by clairealex
فيكتوريا by سامي ميخائيل, سمير نقاش, Sami Michael
5.0
I wanted to read this novel because of a comment made in Three Worlds: Memoirs of an Arab-Jew where Avi Shlaim said it portrayed lower class experiences that contrasted with his own. Unless I missed subtle cues that a native would recognize, there was only a little about interactions between Arab-non-Jews and Arab-Jews. There seemed to be more separation into neighborhoods, Jew and non-Jew, Victoria's family didn't seem to have non-Jewish friends as did Shlaim's, and the family time in Israel seemed to move from menial labor in the temporary tent city for immigrants to successful business. Differences were in life style and survival skills.
On to the novel as novel. Time is handled adroitly, the novel starting with Victoria contemplating suicide as she crosses a bridge with flashbacks to her earlier year's friendship with her cousin Miriam and their attraction to Rapheal, all this against a backdrop of family squabbles and rising and falling econimic moments. This includes the time of WWI and the desperate attempt to shield some village men from being drafted into the Ottoman army while some village men volunteer. This flashback, told chronolgically, covers many chapters, but there are always reminders of the present walking across the bridge and back among a crowd, a crowd that allows for creeping fingers and other assaults. The flashback catches up to the present where the two stories become one; now there are occasional flash forwards, moments that signal no situation will continue indefinitely.
It was an intrigueing read, a vicarious experience of a culture where women's roles and sexual values are mostly different from modern, western experience.
On to the novel as novel. Time is handled adroitly, the novel starting with Victoria contemplating suicide as she crosses a bridge with flashbacks to her earlier year's friendship with her cousin Miriam and their attraction to Rapheal, all this against a backdrop of family squabbles and rising and falling econimic moments. This includes the time of WWI and the desperate attempt to shield some village men from being drafted into the Ottoman army while some village men volunteer. This flashback, told chronolgically, covers many chapters, but there are always reminders of the present walking across the bridge and back among a crowd, a crowd that allows for creeping fingers and other assaults. The flashback catches up to the present where the two stories become one; now there are occasional flash forwards, moments that signal no situation will continue indefinitely.
It was an intrigueing read, a vicarious experience of a culture where women's roles and sexual values are mostly different from modern, western experience.