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A review by brnycx
Guapa by Saleem Haddad
5.0
ugh. UGH. what a beautiful and absolutely, totally heartbreaking book.
guapa unfolds over 24 hours - peppered liberally with mrs dalloway-esque vignetted memories - in the life of rasa, a young gay man in an unidentified middle eastern city. the book follows him as he "digs through [his] roots to find out how [his] branches grow", searching for some place which allows him love, happiness, acceptance, and his habibi taymour - without having to sacrifice any for the others. all that against the backdrop of a failed revolution, a presidential crackdown, and a purported 'terrorist' insurrection.
there are many things this book does so well. the scathing wedding scene is particularly excellent - "i loathe sitting down and participating in inane conversations with proud parents and smug couples who all look like the might secretly hate each other". but its grappling with identity, and the hideous loneliness when 'society' (or societies, in this case) refuses to accept you unless you suppress or deny parts of yourself, is especially adept.
and don't even get me started on taymour and rasa. or rasa and his grandmother - bound together by family and grief, simultaneously drowning and anchoring each other in the apartment they share. i feel like i'll cry for weeks.
guapa unfolds over 24 hours - peppered liberally with mrs dalloway-esque vignetted memories - in the life of rasa, a young gay man in an unidentified middle eastern city. the book follows him as he "digs through [his] roots to find out how [his] branches grow", searching for some place which allows him love, happiness, acceptance, and his habibi taymour - without having to sacrifice any for the others. all that against the backdrop of a failed revolution, a presidential crackdown, and a purported 'terrorist' insurrection.
there are many things this book does so well. the scathing wedding scene is particularly excellent - "i loathe sitting down and participating in inane conversations with proud parents and smug couples who all look like the might secretly hate each other". but its grappling with identity, and the hideous loneliness when 'society' (or societies, in this case) refuses to accept you unless you suppress or deny parts of yourself, is especially adept.
and don't even get me started on taymour and rasa. or rasa and his grandmother - bound together by family and grief, simultaneously drowning and anchoring each other in the apartment they share. i feel like i'll cry for weeks.