A review by mia_difelice
Refuge by Dina Nayeri

4.0

Refuge is a book to find refuge in. It tells the story of a fractured Iranian family, the Hamidis, and centers on the father and daughter, Bahman and Niloo. As a child, Niloo left Iran with her mother and brother while Bahman stayed behind. Now, decades later in 2009, Niloo lives in Amsterdam with her European husband and Bahman is trying to end his third marriage. Bahman struggles with his opium addiction, with leaving Iran to join the rest of his family -- Meanwhile Niloo struggles with her marriage and her relationship with her father, fraught with embarrassing memories and her own quiet trauma as a once-refugee. The book moves back-and-forth between present day and the four visits Bahman and Niloo have shared since her departure, as Niloo reconnects with her Iranian roots in a refugee squat and her father becomes an increasingly unavoidable part of her life.

It's characters are occasionally opaque -- Fatimeh and Sanaz, Bahman's second and third wives, fade in and out of the narrative without much sticking power. Karim and Siavash are on similarly uneven ground (
SpoilerBahman's ruminations about Siavash at the end of the novel feel superfluous and puzzling given that the focus shifts so quickly and so completely
). Pari's own story feels weak compared to how much emphasis she receives at the end of the novel. Bahman's side of things is slow-going at first, and his appearances in the past are much more engaging than the ones in the present. By the end of the story you're left wondering --
Spoilerwill Niloo get back together with Guillame? Will Bahman stay in Amsterdam or will he be left to a fate like Mam'mad as Niloo fears? Does Niloo come to accept Bahman in the way that she was afraid to throughout the novel? And when these conflicts felt integral to the narrative, in the end Nayeri abandons them in favor of some sentiments about the importance of reconnecting with family.


Yet despite this, Refuge tugs at all the right heart strings through its depiction of Niloo's inadvertent quest for identity and belonging, through Bahman's earnest displays of affection and bumbling attempts to connect with his family. The two are infused with such humanness, intensified by graceful language that seems to flow in and out of their thoughts, their emotions, their idiosyncrasies with ease. You are immersed in their worlds, invited to laugh at Bahman's English approximations of Farsi sayings and Niloo and Guillame's inside jokes, invited to find comfort in traditions and a family that are not your own. In a time when the refugee narrative is dark and perilous, it is a relief to read of a family that, while imperfect, manages to scrape out its own refuge.