Scan barcode
A review by rhii_reading
The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
This book deals with so many heavy topics, yet still manages to tell a story that is as intimate as it is political. Grief has such a large presence here, not only in human loss - both fictional and real, given the partial setting in 1970s Cyprus - but in the ways in which the immigrant experience can affect subsequent generations.
Shafak conveys all the complexities of being a child to an immigrant and feeling different to everyone else, as well as the loneliness and sometimes anger at having what feels like a whole part of your heritage unavailable to you. The only part of the novel that doesn’t feel fully explored is Ava’s school bullying storyline, which at times feels like an over exaggeration of the power of social media and at others like a districting side plot to more engaging stories. However, this novel still feels like it satisfyingly fleshes out and develop all its characters to appropriate amounts. Ultimately, the story is reflective rather than needing to come to any specific answers about characters’ futures, remaining hopeful that it is always possible to move forward and find renewal.
Initially I thought the fig tree chapters were going to be too self indulgent and overly whimsical, but they became one of my favourite things about the novel, especially towards the end. Her chapters often offered a different, but no less poignant, perspective of the novels events, and often neatly tied into the immigrant experience that the novel attempts to encompass.
It can feel belittling or even offensive to draw parallels between (often white) eco-criticism, trauma, and war, but here I think Shafak manages to balance themes without trivialising human suffering in the face of the importance of nature or, more specifically, trees. Whether it is immigrant parents, political conflict, or tree generations, the past continuously informs the present, for better or for worse.
Shafak conveys all the complexities of being a child to an immigrant and feeling different to everyone else, as well as the loneliness and sometimes anger at having what feels like a whole part of your heritage unavailable to you. The only part of the novel that doesn’t feel fully explored is Ava’s school bullying storyline, which at times feels like an over exaggeration of the power of social media and at others like a districting side plot to more engaging stories. However, this novel still feels like it satisfyingly fleshes out and develop all its characters to appropriate amounts. Ultimately, the story is reflective rather than needing to come to any specific answers about characters’ futures, remaining hopeful that it is always possible to move forward and find renewal.
Initially I thought the fig tree chapters were going to be too self indulgent and overly whimsical, but they became one of my favourite things about the novel, especially towards the end. Her chapters often offered a different, but no less poignant, perspective of the novels events, and often neatly tied into the immigrant experience that the novel attempts to encompass.
It can feel belittling or even offensive to draw parallels between (often white) eco-criticism, trauma, and war, but here I think Shafak manages to balance themes without trivialising human suffering in the face of the importance of nature or, more specifically, trees. Whether it is immigrant parents, political conflict, or tree generations, the past continuously informs the present, for better or for worse.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death and War
Moderate: Alcoholism and Homophobia
Minor: Mental illness