Take a photo of a barcode or cover
A review by fatima_zafar11
Minaret by Leila Aboulela
3.5
I was liking it more the translator in the begining and it was REALLY good but then author did what she always does, ruins her perfect Muslim representation novel
He should not come close to me but he does and I cling to him, I cling to him because I am sour and he is sweet. He kisses me and he doesn't know how.
--
I don't know why there's always shit like this it was same in the translator
And last part was just embarrassing
`What's wrong with us Africans?' I asked Anwar and he knew. He knew facts and history but nothing he said gave me comfort or hope. The more he talked, the more confused I felt, groping for something simple, but he said nothing was simple, everything was complicated, everything was connected to history and economics. In Queensway, in High Street Kensington, we would watch the English, the Gulf Arabs, the Spanish, Japanese, Malaysians, Americans and wonder how it would feel to have, like them, a stable country. A place where we could make future plans and it wouldn't matter who the government was - they wouldn't mess up our day-to-day life. A country that was a familiar, reassuring background, a static landscape on which to paint dreams. A country we could leave at any time, return to at any time and it would be there for us, solid, waiting.
He should not come close to me but he does and I cling to him, I cling to him because I am sour and he is sweet. He kisses me and he doesn't know how.
--
I don't know why there's always shit like this it was same in the translator
And last part was just embarrassing
`What's wrong with us Africans?' I asked Anwar and he knew. He knew facts and history but nothing he said gave me comfort or hope. The more he talked, the more confused I felt, groping for something simple, but he said nothing was simple, everything was complicated, everything was connected to history and economics. In Queensway, in High Street Kensington, we would watch the English, the Gulf Arabs, the Spanish, Japanese, Malaysians, Americans and wonder how it would feel to have, like them, a stable country. A place where we could make future plans and it wouldn't matter who the government was - they wouldn't mess up our day-to-day life. A country that was a familiar, reassuring background, a static landscape on which to paint dreams. A country we could leave at any time, return to at any time and it would be there for us, solid, waiting.