Take a photo of a barcode or cover
A review by reading_with_matt
Fundamentally by Nussaibah Younis
adventurous
challenging
dark
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
A Compelling and Original Story
This is a fundamentally good book that masterfully blends fiction with an almost documentary-like authenticity, punctuated by moments of dark humor. The story follows Nadia, a UN aid worker involved in a program to deradicalize foreign ISIS brides in Iraq, and Sara, a young Muslim woman from north London whom Nadia befriends after recognizing something of herself in her.
The writing is exceptional—precise without being overly literary, capturing my attention from the start and holding it throughout in a way few books have managed recently. The author creates a completely original narrative that feels both timely and timeless.
One of the book’s greatest strengths is its use of black humor, particularly through the character of Sheikh Jason, a converted American Muslim from California who arrives to help moderate the ISIS brides’ beliefs but is completely out of his depth. He reminded me of those substitute teachers who inevitably become the class’s target—providing perfect comic relief in an otherwise heavy narrative.
The heart of the story lies in exploring why people choose aid work and the complex dynamics between Nadia and Sara. Nadia suffers from a savior complex, seeing herself as Sara’s rescuer while completely failing to respect Sara’s beliefs. In trying to transform Sara into a version of herself, Nadia reveals her own cultural blindness. Meanwhile, Sara treats Nadia with contempt and shows what Nadia perceives as ingratitude, creating a fascinating tension between two women from vastly different worlds.
This relationship illuminates something crucial about cross-cultural understanding. We often strive to do good without recognizing that others may operate from entirely different moral and ethical frameworks shaped by their own experiences. The novel shows how neither woman can truly understand the other until Nadia reaches out to Sara’s parents, finally gaining insight into herself and her own relationship with her mother. This moment reveals that Nadia herself has perhaps undergone a form of radicalization through her rejection of her mother’s Islamic beliefs.
The book also handles LGBTQ+ themes with refreshing naturalness—there’s no struggle or angst around sexuality, just modern, contemporary life. Characters casually mention ex-girlfriends and sleep with men without any need for labels or explanations. It feels authentically contemporary rather than performative.
This is a brilliant, illuminating read that offers fascinating insights into Middle Eastern politics, women’s experiences, cultural relativism, and the white savior complex that pervades modern aid work. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in a thought-provoking story that challenges assumptions while delivering compelling characters and expert storytelling.
This is a fundamentally good book that masterfully blends fiction with an almost documentary-like authenticity, punctuated by moments of dark humor. The story follows Nadia, a UN aid worker involved in a program to deradicalize foreign ISIS brides in Iraq, and Sara, a young Muslim woman from north London whom Nadia befriends after recognizing something of herself in her.
The writing is exceptional—precise without being overly literary, capturing my attention from the start and holding it throughout in a way few books have managed recently. The author creates a completely original narrative that feels both timely and timeless.
One of the book’s greatest strengths is its use of black humor, particularly through the character of Sheikh Jason, a converted American Muslim from California who arrives to help moderate the ISIS brides’ beliefs but is completely out of his depth. He reminded me of those substitute teachers who inevitably become the class’s target—providing perfect comic relief in an otherwise heavy narrative.
The heart of the story lies in exploring why people choose aid work and the complex dynamics between Nadia and Sara. Nadia suffers from a savior complex, seeing herself as Sara’s rescuer while completely failing to respect Sara’s beliefs. In trying to transform Sara into a version of herself, Nadia reveals her own cultural blindness. Meanwhile, Sara treats Nadia with contempt and shows what Nadia perceives as ingratitude, creating a fascinating tension between two women from vastly different worlds.
This relationship illuminates something crucial about cross-cultural understanding. We often strive to do good without recognizing that others may operate from entirely different moral and ethical frameworks shaped by their own experiences. The novel shows how neither woman can truly understand the other until Nadia reaches out to Sara’s parents, finally gaining insight into herself and her own relationship with her mother. This moment reveals that Nadia herself has perhaps undergone a form of radicalization through her rejection of her mother’s Islamic beliefs.
The book also handles LGBTQ+ themes with refreshing naturalness—there’s no struggle or angst around sexuality, just modern, contemporary life. Characters casually mention ex-girlfriends and sleep with men without any need for labels or explanations. It feels authentically contemporary rather than performative.
This is a brilliant, illuminating read that offers fascinating insights into Middle Eastern politics, women’s experiences, cultural relativism, and the white savior complex that pervades modern aid work. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in a thought-provoking story that challenges assumptions while delivering compelling characters and expert storytelling.