A review by perpetualpages
The Thirty Names of Night by Zeyn Joukhadar

challenging emotional hopeful mysterious reflective sad medium-paced
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

 CWs: Graphic descriptions of medical complications due to menstruation, allusions to homophobia and racism, mentions of Islamophobic violence/hate crimes, brief descriptions of sexual assault, trauma relating to fires, exploration of grief and loss of a parent

"I think of the last time I used my hands to make something beautiful. As long as my body was not for myself, I stopped allowing myself the luxury of wanting...I bend and untangle and step out of my body. I lightning myself into this swollen room where boys like me are arcing and vaulting our unruly bodies, shaking the wet newness from our wings."

The Thirty Names of Night is a tremendous feat of literature. Ambitious in scope, unflinching in its prose, and characterized by deeply-felt emotion, this story weaves a narrative that is both haunting and hopeful in equal measures. It's about the echoes of love and grief that sound from the unlikeliest of places, searching for meaning in a world that all too often seeks to isolate and destroy that which is separate, and the ways we are wholly and irrevocably connected to the people who've come before us.

This is a story about a young Syrian-American trans man trying to find a place within his communities and a name for himself. He is haunted by the death of his mother, who was killed in an Islamophobic hate crime, and in many ways desperately trying to preserve her legacy by completing her ornithological research. The convention of naming is so powerful throughout this story. To give something a name is to give it power, to assign meaning, to recognize and understand where it belongs. So to have Nadir discovering and naming his own transness is powerful—to have him naming his grief, naming his own sense of loss and isolation, gives him a means to begin addressing those things. It's very much a story about him coming into his own, and what that means and looks like in a world where "different" is telegraphed "dangerous."

The way the two POVs interact with each other and support each other is especially profound. As Nadir goes through Laila's journals, you get the sense that history is always happening to us, the past is always with us, and those who came before us often fought for the same things we continue to fight for ourselves. There's an acknowledgement of the stories that the world has tried to erase, the stories that don't get a chance to be told because they're buried. But sometimes that burying is for safe-keeping, to ensure a means of these stories surviving so that they might live on in someone else and empower the generations we are not even capable of imagining yet. Some stories don't get a chance to be told, but that doesn't mean they're aren't valuable or important.

This book is a ballad, a poem, a love letter, and an entire world unto itself. It is a love letter to queer communities of color, immigrants, trans people, and those who are invested in expanding the world instead of shrinking it. It contains some of the most gut-wrenchingly honest descriptions of transness and transmasculinity that I've ever read, and really makes space for the sense of loneliness and placelessness that comes with that experience while also exploring and celebrating the beauty of transition.

I do not have the words to express how profoundly truthful and thoughtful this story is. An intricate blend of historical and contemporary fiction, The Thirty Names of Night is an incredible addition to the literary canon. I cannot wait to read so much more from Zeyn Joukhadar, whose vision and creativity I deeply admire after experiencing this truly phenomenal story. I cannot recommend it enough! 
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