In her debut novel, Isabella Hammad uses richly-textured prose to invoke the turbulence of the Middle East right after World War I. I recently read Kurt Seyt and Shura by Nermin Bezmen and The Carpet Weaver of Usak by Kathryn Gauci, both of which deal roughly with the Middle East pre-, during, and post- the War to End All Wars. Overall, they tie together nicely to give a sense of the tumult in Turkey, Anatolia, the Crimea, and Palestine.
When nineteen-year-old protagonist, Midhat Kamal, arrives in Montpellier, France, to study medicine he boards with a professor of social anthropology at the university, the widower Molineau. During Midhat’s stay, he falls desperately in love with Molineau’s daughter, Jeannette. This poignant romance fails. When he is betrayed by Molineu, Midhat moves to Paris and embarks on a hedonist journey. He constantly walks the knife-edge between fitting in and being different, being a woman’s amour exotique, of being on the outside looking in. When World War I keeps him in France, he becomes part of a group of expatriates who debate the future of Palestine. At last recalled home by his father, Midhat faces the same dilemma of not fitting in at home, held apart by his newfound sophistication.
This book deals beautifully with big issues: personal identity, cultural identity, the struggle between self-self-fulfillment and family set against a background of a nation struggling for independence. Hammad is particularly gifted at showing both these emotions and the setting in which they occur. She deftly handles a large, complex cast (ignore the long list at the beginning of the book—you won’t need it), multiple settings, and the turbulence of the times. The middle of the book drags a bit. There are many foreign terms, that while giving a sense of foreignness, also tend to clutter her writing. Overall, a lyrical book well worth taking a slow voyage through.
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