The Abadi Family saga begins when a modern-day Romeo and Juliet story between a Palestinian and a Jew ends in predictable tragedy. The family flees to America to mend, but encounters only more turmoil that threatens to tear the family apart.
In the wake of the 1967 Six Day War, Tamar Abadi’s world collapses when her sister-in-law is killed in what appears to be a terror attack but what is really the result of a secret relationship with a Palestinian poet. Tamar’s husband, Salim, is an Arab and a Jew. Torn between the two identities, and mourning his sister’s death, he uproots the family and moves them to the US. As Tamar struggles to maintain the integrity of the family’s Jewish Israeli identity against the backdrop of the American “melting pot” culture, a Palestinian family moves into the apartment upstairs and she is forced to reckon with her narrow thinking as her daughter falls in love with the Palestinian son. Fearing history will repeat itself, Tamar's determination to separate the two sets into motion a series of events that have the power to destroy her relationship with her daughter, her marriage, and the family she has worked so hard to protect. This powerful debut novel explores Tamar’s struggle to keep her family intact, to accept love that is taboo, and grapples with how exile forces us to reshape our identity in ways we could not imagine.
As a fan of my friend Zeeva Bukai's short fiction, I have been looking forward to this novel since I learned that it was in the pipeline. I cannot wait for it to make its official debut so I can talk about it with other readers!
I was lucky enough to get an advance copy of this beautiful book. The language is gorgeous and the characters are so real and heartwarming, and the best thing about this book is the brilliant story. These complex and interesting families who learn about themselves and each other and, through their journey, learn to open their hearts. Everyone should read this book!
Wow, it's hard to believe The Anatomy of Exile is a debut novel! It's an exquisitely written, thoughtful, profound, and often heartbreaking story that deals with one of the most complex and misunderstood issues, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, without dehumanizing or villainizing either side, told through a prism of familial and romantic dramas. The story gripped me from the beginning till the last page. It will stay with me for a long time. I highly recommend The Anatomy of Exile to readers who enjoy historical fiction and want to learn more about the modern history of Israel and Palestine.
This was an excellent book. It's not often that a book can change my perspective on something, but this one did. It caused me to view the Palestinian narrative in a new way. Regarding the main plot, the author did a great job showing the universal truth that families and heritage are complicated, and trauma can be inherited. Though the characters are flawed and often aggravating, their story was compelling. This is a book that will stay with me. One of the best books I've read this year.
Set in Israel and New York between the periods of the Six Day War and the Yom Kippur War, this powerful novel follows Tamar Abadi, whose life is torn apart when her closest friend and sister-in-law Hadas is murdered in an abandoned village, her killer also found dead at the scene. Hadas and her brother Salim (Tamar’s husband) had come to Israel as children, Jewish refugees from Syria, and had been resettled, for a period, in the village. The police write it off as a terrorist attack, but Tamar knows the truth: Hadas was killed by her Palestinian lover in a crime of passion. In his grief over his sister’s death, Salim uproots the family to America with promises to return after he’s made enough money. As their children assimilate into American culture and economic success is slow in coming, Tamar tries to maintain their Jewish Israeli identity, longing to return home. Without giving any spoilers, history threatens to repeat itself in New York. The narrative is an excellent and nuanced portrayal of identity, prejudice, politics, parenthood, race, gender, exile, forbidden love, seen through the lens of a woman who is trying to keep her family together through life’s most painful and beautiful moments. I think this will make an excellent choice for book clubs! Join me to hear Zeeva speak about her book at February Literary Modiin's event: https://bit.ly/3VtHRgt
In her tremendous, transporting debut, The Anatomy of Exile, Zeeva Bukai demonstrates the unique power of literature to transcend borders, excavate our shared humanity, and perhaps even heal.
A sprawling novel about the effects of intergenerational trauma, The Anatomy of Exile has all the makings of a modern American immigration epic.
In 1967 Israel, when when Tamar’s sister-in-law, Hadas, has killed in a suspected terrorist attack, Tamar soon comes to learn that the truth is much more complicated. Hadas was engaged in an affair with a Palestinian poet named Daoud, who killed Tamar in a crime of passion. Only Tamar knows the truth, which she keeps a secret even from her husband, Salim.
A few years later, Tamar immigrates to America with her husband and three children. But when Tamar’s daughter, Ruby, falls in love with the son of a Palestinian family upstairs, Tamar fears history will repeat, and she vows to stop the young lovers’ relationship.
I was blown away by what I could not believe to be the debut novel of this author. I found the writing poetic and elegiac, and I appreciated the choice to set a story during such pivotable moments in Israeli history, such as the 1967 and 1973 wars. I wish we got to know the Brooklyn that the characters inhabited a little better, but I found the chapters set in Israel especially fleshed out and vivid.
I also appreciated the author’s nuances when discussing Mizrahi – Ashkenazi relationships in early state Israel, and for being able to capture the sense of marginalization and outsiderness that many of these characters that have been placed on the cusp of their own societies face. We rarely see novels, let alone novels about taboo Israeli-Palestinian relationships, from the perspective of Mizrahim, despite the rich, complex and painful histories of many Jews from Arab countries.
I appreciated how the novel didn’t stereotype and offered no simple explanations on how to resolve the family’s understandable traumas, let alone the decades-long Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I liked how it stayed “zoomed in” on the family while still discussing how broader political changes impacted these people’s lives. I also learned that the author, who is Israeli-American, worked with a Palestinian sensitivity reader, which really showed off in chapters about Faisal and Daoud.
Overall, this was a powerful, heart-wrenching novel that offered no easy answers about immigration, diaspora, and how family secrets can snowball. Despite the heavy topics, it was a refreshing and hopeful read during these difficult times.
A beautiful and timely novel that explores the boundaries made and broken inside families, marriages, siblings, neighbors, lovers, cultures …inside humanity.
I very much enjoyed reading this book which did a great job of illustrating the setting of late 60s/early 70s Tel Aviv and Brooklyn, as the Six Day War ended and the Yom Kippur War began. The details and descriptions are very evocative of the time, place, and mood. I particularly enjoyed some unusual vocabulary that made the book seem almost translated – jalousies, vitrine, janissaries, naphtalene, Gobelin, asphodel. Brother and sister Hadas and Salim were born in Syria, smuggled into British Mandate Palestine, and then lived in an Israeli village that had formerly been Palestinian. Salim is married to Tamar, who was born in Israel to parents whose families had perished in WWII survivors. There is much exploration of where “home” is and who home belongs to; and likewise, what make up the components of someone’s identity. Within complicated relationships, the author looks at what elements tear people apart and what universal things bring people together. Following Hadas’ death, Salim and Tamar make what is supposed to be a temporary move to New York City with their three children. The oldest daughter falls in love with a neighbor boy whose parents are from Jaffa. The relationship between the two young people mirrors a former relationship between Salim’s sister Hadas and Daoud, who grew up in the village that Salim and Hadas moved to after 1948. The author does a great job of bringing the various threads to satisfying conclusion leaving enough room for some things to remain open to varied possibilities. It is a challenge to write about the places and people depicted without a political message, and yet the author makes it relatable, reflective, and nuanced rather than black and white or politicized.
One of the more depressing books I’ve read recently but it’s about the Israel-Palestine war so, to be expected. Told from the perspective of a Jewish woman in Israel, it’s an interesting study of culture and racism and the way our perceptions are shaped. I didn’t like any of these characters. I found the main character weak and naive. I found everyone else either hypocritical or annoying or narrow. But reading this did give me an appreciation of the issues involved in the war. And I understood the characters and the ways in which they acted/reacted. It was extremely well written. I wanted to know what would happen. Objectively, this is a 5 star book. I just personally found it so depressing that I can’t rate it 5.
It’s quite possible my feelings about this book were colored, in part, by reading SUNRISE ON THE REAPING at the same time. (Otherwise, I wish I’d actually gotten to this book physically as well—no shade to Gilli Messer, except that all of her accents kinda sounded the same. :P Mostly it has to do with the literary, interior language.)
But anywho. This novel is about an Israeli family and it takes place between the 1967 and Yom Kippur wars. In many ways a very different historical moment from now, and in others, not so much. Getting back to SUNRISE ON THE REAPING, where denied starvation and suppression of certain ideas/beliefs are the norm, it’s pretty easy to see similarities. But also frustrating, because at least when it comes to Israel and Palestine, the situation is also more complicated. Which was why I ultimately decided to read these books in tandem.
We are following the Abadi family, and the inciting incident here is the death of one of its members, Hadas. She’s found murdered at the dilapidated village she used to call home (and before her community of Mizrahi Jews, there lived in Arab Muslim Palestinian population.) It appears she was killed in a terrorist attack, but her sister-in-law, Tamar, knows better. Due to similar history and mourning the same lost past of “no borders,” Hadas had been in a long-term affair with her killer, Daoud. Hadas ultimately tried to call it off so the two of them could get on with their lives in the present. That’s why Daoud shot her, and then himself.
Tamar has been keeping this secret from her husband, Salim, because it would destroy him, and ultimately their relationship. But Salim is broken in other ways by Hadas’s death. Less tethered to Israel now that his sister is dead, he moves his family to Brooklyn with a “get rich” plan.
The plan doesn’t materialize, and the Abadis stay in the US for longer than Salim promised Tamar. Always patriarchal, Salim becomes more emotionally unstable as well. And into this mix, a Muslim Palestinian family moves into their apartment building, and Tamar’s daughter, Ruby, takes up with their son, Faisal.
Fearing a similar outcome to Hadas’s, Tamar takes matters into her own hands. She sets dire things into motion, though it’s uncertain to me whether she’s fully to blame. Bukai is opaque, imo, on whether Tamar “forced” her worldview onto everyone else, or if she just exposed the truth of their own. The fathers take extreme action against the teens once they find out about the romance, after all.
But it’s also true that the lines here are more blurred than they appear. As a Mizrahi Jew, Salim also identifies as Arab, and immigrated from Damascus, where Tamar is Ashkenazi, and lived her whole life in Tel Aviv. Bukai writes from Tamar's POV: “In her mind, Salim and Ruby were connected. Losing them was rooted in a world where she was a foreigner. The place where the Mahmoudis lived, where Radwa sent delicious treats each week, reminding Salim of his mother’s house in Damascus, of his beloved sister, Hadas…Losses that were about more than the music, language, and food they shared, but about a primal code that said, This is who we are. She was the outsider. Ruby was given entrée into that world now. What would happen when her daughter realized she couldn’t be both, the way Hadas had finally understood it?”
In America, Tamar and Salim’s relationship strains due to their own secrets and anxieties. In Israel, new dividing lines crop up. By the Yom Kippur war, direct victims of the Nabka, as well as the Arab towns themselves, are fading. But the Occupied Territories Israel won in 1967 give way to more stalwart Palestinian identity. It becomes more difficult for individuals like Ruby and Faizal to remain apart from differing nationalist narratives.
Tamar, arguably, finds more of her own voice, which is a bit of a breath of fresh air by the end of the story. The ending between her and Salim is a little ambiguous, though if I were to quibble, some of the subplots are tied up too neatly.
Still, the themes hold. “This is a vital exploration of what it means to be in exile, and how the loss of an anchor necessitates a reckoning with the self — a self without borders, without country, without land,” Sara Lippmann writes in her Jewish Book Council review. “Bukai writes with lyrical urgency and compassionate insight about identity, belonging, dispossession, and desire, capturing the doomed irony of homeland and the lengths to which people will go to insulate themselves in a false notion of safety.”
May we go forward in these troubled times, and act more out of compassion and empathy than anger and fear.
This is a beautiful--important--bittersweet novel. Timely and timeless and perhaps unique, it tells two intertwined Romeo-and-Juliet stories about Israeli Jews and Muslims. Those stories, in turn, limn the pain and hope of being outsiders, even when you think you're home.
From the first pages, safety is a dream too quickly shattered. Tamar and Salim Abadi, Jewish Israelis, are happily married with three children; he has a steady government job, their Tel Aviv apartment overlooks a lush garden, and Israel has just won the lightning-fast Six Day War of 1967. Then they learn that Salim's sister, Hadas, has been murdered. Then Tamar learns that the killer is the Palestinian man who has been Hadas's secret lover for years.
Abruptly, Salim decides that the family must move to the U.S. To escape the pain of constantly walking down streets where he'd walked with Hadas? Probably. He insists that they will stay in the U.S. only five years, just long enough to become wealthy and return to Israel to buy a dream house on the coast. Tamar, burdened by Hadas's secret and by what she assumes is a wife's role, reluctantly agrees.
Over the next six years--bracketed by the Israeli-Arab wars of 1967 and 1973--the novel explores identity from multiple vantage points: --Tamar's identity seems comfortable: She's a Sabra (an Israeli-born Jew) whose family comes from Israeli's then-dominant Eastern European class. --But what does it mean to be a wife? or a mother? --Salim and Hadas are Arab Jews, born in Syria, loyal to Israel and Judaism yet mourning the native culture lost to them forever. --In the U.S., the Abadi family are outsiders. Should they continue speaking Hebrew at home? How much should the children assimilate? --A Palestinian family moves in next door. Salim is clearly delighted to speak Arabic with them and share food memories. --Then Tamar and Salim's teenage daughter starts dating the Palestinian family's son. Tamar clumsily tries to break it up, because after they return to Israel, won't that relationship be impossible? (There are more complications of identity, which I won't go into.)
I'm writing this review in January 2025, when the naivete of those days seems too painfully prescient. As one Jewish character says, after the cease-fire with Egypt in 1973, "The war's over." Another character chides: "You don't get it. For them [Arabs], it isn't over."
Today, a cease-fire in Gaza has supposedly begun; three Israeli hostages have been released. And we know it's still not over. If only actual Jews and Muslims today could grow and learn as some (but only some) of the characters in this novel grow and learn.
(3.5 stars) This beautifully written debut novel is set both in Tel Aviv, Israel, and Brooklyn, New York between the Six-Day-War and the Yom Kippur War (1967 and 1973).
The book opens with the main characters, Tamar and Salim Abadi, learning of the death of Salim’s sister Hadas. At first they think it was a terror attack but eventually the truth comes out: Hadas died with her Arab lover, Daoud. Theirs was an unthinkable relationship, a kind of Romeo and Juliet situation - and unfortunately many still feel that way in 2025. The death sets off a string of events, including Salim insisting that they leave for America, leaving his brother-in-law and children to deal with the death on their own in Israel.
Another relationship situation is explored as well - Tamar is of Ashkenazi Jewish heritage, while Salim and Hadas are Syrian Jews (“Mizrahi” Jews). They speak fluent Arabic while Tamar, even years later, struggles with that language. The foods and other traditions are different as well.
Tamar and Salim have three children, the oldest of whom is Ruby, who, as a teenager in Brooklyn, falls for a neighbor’s son, also an Arab, originally from Jaffa. And so the generational trauma continues. The climax of the story occurs back in Tel Aviv in 1973,
The story was a good one. Unfortunately, I felt it was very slow moving and while I enjoyed reading it, when I would put it down, I didn’t feel the urgency to pick it back up and find out what would happen next. It didn’t help that I didn’t like any of the main characters either. The impact of current events probably also played a part in how long it took me to finish the book.
If you don’t mind a story that’s a bit slow, and you enjoy character-driven tales that highlight different cultures, The Anatomy of Exile would be a good choice.
Thank you to Kaye Publicity for the opportunity to read a review copy of the book. All opinions are my own.
Zeeva is a dear friend, whom I first met a decade ago in a writing workshop, and was immediately taken by her writing - deep, subtle, rhythmical and instantly addictive. She was working on this novel... I liked her writing so much, that I invited her to read at my literary Salon, long before the book was publisehd, because I just knew - this novel will be one of the best I've read. And it is.
Zeeva gave me a galley; I just finished it. This book is a remarkable achievement indeed. Not only the writing is gorgeous, but the plot weaves with such twists that at times I held my breath in anticipation of how the crescendos might get resolved. The narrative flow is so charged yet so subtle, delicate and smooth. Bravo!
And of course the true mastery is in the seamless weaving of the very personal and intimate with the geo-political and unresolved (unresolvable?): forbidden love and war, mother’s heartache, the highs of intimacy and the lows of betrayal, hard choices and destiny. The reader is invested in each character, and we continue to wonder, as Tamar does: who is in charge - we or the higher power? can we reconcile the circumstances that are at opposite ends and beyond our control? Can we survive the pain and go on living?
My favorite part is of course Tamar's longing for home, her desire to belong - geographically, spiritually and emotionally. In that regard, she reminds me of Inga, the main character in my first novel. Tamar is all of us, really. Thank you, Zeeva!
P.S. I hope the audio book will be in your own narration. You are such a great reader. Let your acting talents shine, too.
Thanks Kaye Publicity for sending me a gifted copy at the start of the year. I can’t believe it took me so long to get to this one. I didn’t know until last month about Jewish Book Month which leads up to Hanukkah, so I knew that this would be a perfect time to read it. I also found an audio available on Libby and utilized this too.
This tender, honest story depicts the tension of racial identities, loyalty, family, and love against the background of the Middle East conflict and the American Dream that so many idealistically, even blindly, pursue. Ruby’s adolescent arrogance got on my last nerve, Salim was hypocritical and intentionally aloof about several things, but I could understand and sympathized with the inner turmoil that Tamar battles throughout in regards to family, courage, truth, faith, and compassion.
The audio was beautifully done and I liked this one a lot. I hope to read more from Bukai in the future as she has a short novel releasing in February titled The World Between. I appreciated the vulnerability in this, for characters from all sides, and the reminders of not to judge outward appearances, to show compassion, because truthfully, we all are suffering in various ways, often in ways either others don’t understand at all or ways very similarly; that ultimately we are all humans deserving of love, kindness, connection, and not just a sense of but actual safety. Content includes murder, racism and a targeted assault, brief child punishment, infidelity, war violence and descriptions of injuries.
This heartbreaking novel that takes places between the Six-Day War in 1967 and the Yom Kippur War of 1973, both in Israel and New York, and focusing on two sets of star-crossed lovers, reminded me a lot of Sadness is a White Bird by Moriel Rothman-Zecher and All the Rivers by Dorit Rabinyan. I agree with the Kirkus Review: "Shying away from villains and heroes, the novel creates sympathy for a spectrum of individuals trapped by tribalism, land grabs, heartless government actions, and economics." And Sara Lippmann beautifully describes it for the Jewish Book Council: "This is a vital exploration of what it means to be in exile, and how the loss of an anchor necessitates a reckoning with the self — a self without borders, without country, without land. Bukai writes with lyrical urgency and compassionate insight about identity, belonging, dispossession, and desire, capturing the doomed irony of homeland and the lengths to which people will go to insulate themselves in a false notion of safety. Her characters are flawed, contradictory, and haunted by warring desires. Amid our current backdrop of polarization and snap judgments, Bukai’s novel is a beau��tiful antidote, reminding us that nuanced stories are more necessary than ever." However, while Kirkus claims that Zeeva Bukai's debut novel is "a book to read right now," I found it to be an incredibly difficult and distressing book to read right now.
This is a brave and at times compelling book. Not one I would normally read, but was drawn to the subject matter - book ended between the Arab Israeli war starting in 1948 and The Six Day war of 1967 to Yom Kippur in 1973, Ms Bukai examines exile, and life in America through the eyes of Tamar Abadi wrestling with duty, marriage and living as outsiders in New York.
It does have the feel of a debut novel, and maybe it required more ruthless editing. Heavy on exposition and light on characterisation and plot development, it falls uneasily between two stools of earnestness and a writing course proposal.
It also lacks humour - there are plenty of opportunities for light-hearted moments particularly the family interactions in the Big Apple, but it seemed mired primarily in winsome victimhood.
And the first book I've ever read where there isn't a mention of the Irish, either as neighbours or as law enforcement - in New York city. The Italians get a mention, but only as protagonists.
That said, it's a compelling read, but don't expect any new insight or surprises.
For those who enjoyed Frank McCourt's 'Angela's Ashes' & 'Tis', this might be an engaging read.
The Anatomy of Exile is a lyrical, heartbreaking novel that explores the weight of secrets -- how they burn through the past and present, and how they affect the future in unpredictable, often tragic ways. Tamar, the protagonist, is a sensitive, flawed woman who has always defined herself by others -- her mother, her sister-in-law, her husband, her children -- and who must learn to find and erect her own borders and boundaries. With passion and exquisite precision, the author Zeeva Bukai traces Tamar's journey toward self-definition and fulfillment as she moves from Israel to America and back to Israel. Bukai brilliantly describes the paradox that is Israel -- conflicting narratives of joy and rage, ruins and hope, nightmares and dreams -- a land that is more than a land, a place where it seems "easier to die than to live," and yet, a place that urges you to remember not only the pain, but the sweetness. I'll be thinking about this book for a long time.
The Anatomy of Exile is a lyrical, heartbreaking novel that explores the weight of secrets -- how they burn through the past and present, and how they affect the future in unpredictable, often tragic ways. Tamar, the protagonist, is a sensitive, flawed woman who has always defined herself by others -- her mother, her sister-in-law, her husband, her children -- and who must learn to find and erect her own borders and boundaries. With passion and exquisite precision, the author Zeeva Bukai traces Tamar's journey toward self-definition and fulfillment as she moves from Israel to America and back to Israel. Bukai brilliantly describes the paradox that is Israel -- conflicting narratives of joy and rage, ruins and hope, nightmares and dreams -- a land that is more than a land, a place where it seems "easier to die than to live," and yet, a place that urges you to remember not only the pain, but the sweetness. I'll be thinking about this book for a long time.
This book is tender and powerful and encompasses love and loss against the backdrop of an intractable conflict. Beautifully and sensitively written, the story encompasses the experiences, relationships, loves, and losses of people with differing backgrounds informed by the traumas of exile, war, identity, taboo, and stigma. Bukai took care to put forward the humanity of each character and make the reader understand each of their unique positions. European and Arabic Jewish and Muslim identities in Israel and then the US are portrayed in an unbiased and open hearted way with respect to the histories and climates that forged the complex situations the characters faced. Set in the 1960s, the story shows the immense obstacles that stand in the way of breaking cycles and the strength and love that it takes to persevere. It’s an emotional and thought-provoking read. Highly recommended.
Circling back to say that this was one of the very best books I read in 2025. The premise is original, the plot (despite its intentional Romeo and Juliette parallels) is entirely fresh, and the writing... oh, my GOD the writing is beautiful. I can't think of a writer who does a better job of weaving metaphors into her prose without making them feel forced or "stock," and I re-read almost every sentence- once to see what's going on in the story and again because it's like looking at a painting. Beautiful. Despite being set in Israel with Jewish and Arab characters, the book is not political, and although I consider myself pretty well-versed in the history of that part of the world, I actually learned a lot, without feeling like I was sitting in a classroom. Highest, highest recommendations... and eagerly awaiting her second novel, "The World Between," which comes out in 2026.
The Anatomy of Exile is an exquisitely written debut novel, mapping the trajectory of a woman and her family caught between two cultures, two countries, and the ongoing conflict between Israel and Palestine. The complexity and hard decisions that Tamar, her husband, her sister-in-law, and her daughter must make throughout the events of the novel are powerful and often achingly regrettable, but they also mirror the greater conflicts and complexities of the relationship between Israel and Palestine and those caught in between. Zeeva Bukai’s evocative prose captures perfectly the multiple settings of both Israel and Brooklyn, and the tension in the storytelling is calibrated expertly to pull us along on Tamar’s journey. I really loved this book.
This is a very thoughtful book that tackles difficult subjects and the relations between people and peoples. I was able to feel the challenges of the characters, the environment, and the complexity of the situation.
This book follows one family through a big loss, an international move, and forbidden love. It is the story of a mother who wants to protect her child but finds that her attempts cause more upheaval than she could’ve imagined. In the end, it is a story of hope.
One thing, of many, that I really appreciated is the focus on people. No one group is villainized. No one group is put on a pedestal.
Soon after the 1967 Six Day War, Tamar Abadi’s sister-in-law, Hadas is killed by what looks like a terrorist attack but turns out to be the tragic end of Hadas’s love affair with a Palestinian poet. Hadas and her brother Salim were born in and exiled from Syria, and now Salim moves his wife and children to the U.S. Tamar fears that history will repeat when her eldest daughter falls in love with a Palestinian neighbor in this beautiful novel about identity, love, marriage, history, culture, and politics. https://newbooksnetwork.com/the-anato...
The Anatomy of Exile tells the saga of the Abadi family, an Israeli family who flee to America with their three children following a family tragedy in the wake of the 1967 six day war. We feel the tensions and struggles as the different family members try to acclimate to their new homeland. Though the characters are not always likeable they are always well written, interesting, and engaging. The story kept me riveted as I followed the characters on their journeys, both emotional and physical, while they moved through life in search of who and what is important to them.
Some novels offer a simple plot, at least, at first glance. For example, readers might be excused for thinking that "The Anatomy of Exile" by Zeeva Bukai (Delphinium Books) is only a story of forbidden love between a Jewish Israeli and a Muslim Palestinian. However, this brilliant work offers insights into the meaning of family, religion and national identity. Its many conflicted characters are looking to create meaningful lives, but their choices are often governed by emotions and forces that are out of their control. See the rest of my review at https://www.thereportergroup.org/book....