Syrian immigrant Khadra Shamy is growing up in a devout, tightly knit Muslim family in 1970s Indiana, at the crossroads of bad polyester and Islamic dress codes. Along with her brother Eyad and her African-American friends, Hakim and Hanifa, she bikes the Indianapolis streets exploring the fault-lines between “Muslim” and “American.”
When her picture-perfect marriage goes sour, Khadra flees to Syria and learns how to pray again. On returning to America she works in an eastern state — taking care to stay away from Indiana, where the murder of her friend Tayiba’s sister by Klan violence years before still haunts her. But when her job sends her to cover a national Islamic conference in Indianapolis, she’s back on familiar ground: Attending a concert by her brother’s interfaith band The Clash of Civilizations, dodging questions from the “aunties” and “uncles,” and running into the recently divorced Hakim everywhere.
Beautifully written and featuring an exuberant cast of characters, The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf charts the spiritual and social landscape of Muslims in middle America, from five daily prayers to the Indy 500 car race. It is a riveting debut from an important new voice.
Poet and scholar Mohja Kahf was born in Damascus, Syria. Her family moved to the United States in 1971, and Kahf grew up in the Midwest. She earned a PhD in comparative literature from Rutgers University and is the author of the poetry collections Hagar Poems (2016) and Emails from Scheherazad (2003) and the novel The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf (2006).
Kahf’s experiences growing up in the United States shaped her perceptions of the differences and similarities between the cultures of her home and adopted countries. Her poetry is an amalgam of both Syrian and American influences; Lisa Suhair Majaj commented in ArteNews that Kahf’s work “draws on American colloquialisms and Quranic suras; it is informed not only by American free verse … but also by a lush energy that draws on the heart of the Arabic oral tradition and Arabic poetry.” Kahf sometimes satirizes stereotypes about Muslim women—she has tackled hairstyles, sex, and clothing. In Emails from Scheherazad, she locates Scheherazad in 21st-century Hackensack, New Jersey. Majaj observed that Kahf “unsettles assumptions about Scheherazad while also emphasizing aspects of the traditional tale that often get overlooked in western portrayals.” Kahf has also written about the hardships of immigration; The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf depicts a Muslim girl’s coming of age in Indiana.
Kahf co-writes a column on sexuality for the website Muslim Wake Up. Her nonfiction work includes Western Representation of the Muslim Woman: From Termagant to Odalisque (1999).
Kahf is a professor of English at the University of Arkansas.
I'd recommended Girl in the Tangerine Scarf for learning about Muslim American subcultures. Starting this, I thought, "Nice to see myself on the page, but this could get tedious after a while." Even though my upbringing wasn't nearly as religiously observant as that of the protagonist, Khadra, the ideas were well-worn for me. I liked seeing the diversity of Muslim practice and cultures reflected here, which was a lot more nuanced than the American popular perception (e.g. immigrant vs. second generation, African American practice, Shia, Sunni, age vs. youth) and even other works written by Muslims. In fact, you could say the whole book is about nuance and discussions around Islamic practice through Khadra's development and dilemmas.
That's the real appeal for me, seeing Khadra's Islam evolve over time in response, which is common and another facet of Muslim life many non-Muslims don't... realize. I was going to say, "see," but it's a matter of deduction, since any person's views, particularly their relationship with religion and their selves, evolve over time. Muslims are no different. Khadra addresses many of the questions and debates circulating in the Muslim community- naturally, not all of them. Tangerine Scarf certainly doesn't convey all Muslim ways of life or views in the States, but I loved her frankness.
Mohja Kahf's prose is lovely, her metaphors evocative. She populates Tangerine Scarf with a lot of fascinating supporting characters only challenging to remember for non-Arabic speakers, I'd imagine, much as it's difficult for me to remember words in languages I don't know. I read this book over months, so if anyone should have forgotten the characters, it's me, LOL. Reading for context remedies that and difficulty with non-English terms. I didn't notice that many, but that may be because they're unremarkable to me. I agree with another reviewer that this experience of fielding foreign words is useful for understanding Khadra's experience as a stranger in a new land, and I disagree with reviewers that this book is targeted towards Muslims. It has little to offer Muslims, for whom most of this is old hat, unless one is very young or sheltered, except for the feminism perhaps. That was nice. I hope to see more literature like this that reflects Muslims as they are, more books to add to the complexity of the picture offered, more voices. Oh, and definitely read until the end or you'll miss the point of the book. Four stars!
PS. I really enjoyed that older characters played such an important role in the novel as well!
I thought this book really captured what its like to grow up as an American Muslim- the author's attention to detail helps to capture the little idiosyncracies & contradictions within the community & the struggles the American-born have in confronting/reconciling with immigrant Islam. The main character's journey through various phases/types of Islam was done especially well. I also thought the book was good in showing the problems & issues within the American Muslim community while not demonizing any group/peoples. Really enjoyed reading it - nice to see a well-written work with characters I can really relate to.
Parts of this book I would rate five stars and parts of it I would rate less than one. That's how it usually is with works that try to be super-duper-awesome-sauce at social justice, but stop at the bare level of analyzing the genocide that is normalized discourse. Look. Freedom of diverse religions with the emphasis on the free of all religions necessarily limiting the abusive tendencies of any: great. Freedom of diverse religions intersecting with freedom of diverse races, again with the above emphasis: great. An almost 500 page semi casual look at the huge amounts of intricacies naturally involved in a religion that's be going on for the last 1400 years or so and is/has/will be the US' current mascot enemy for an unknown number of years: superb. However, as I said in a status update and will say again: Islamic eugenics is still eugenics, and no amount of self-awareness will fix that if you still use 'sane' as a measurement of 'worthy of life'.
I don't have much interest in sane and/or able Muslims. If they're anything like sane and/or able Christians, they'll want me locked up and/or sterilized and/or dead on an instinctive level. If you're going to write a book about Islam in the Real World, it's not going to be Real if I see ten white Muslim converts running around and no Arab Muslims in wheelchairs. Or Arab Muslims with Down Syndrome. Or Arab Muslims who can't follow all the rules and rituals of speaking and standing and moving and memorizing cause frankly, the fact that the majority of people fall into some prescribed range of acceptable when carrying on the tradition of any complex institution involved in centuries of canonized discourse is a luck of chemicals, not normality. I would spend less time on this and more on the fact that this is one of the best works I've ever read in terms of the sort of valuable insight that I can usually only dig up on Tumblr, as well as on how bits and pieces of the writing of thought truly soared above and beyond its usual secular and contemporary tone, if the same horseshit qualifier didn't repeat itself over and over again of sane, sane, sane. Intelligence as necessity for morality was thrown in at the very end, as if the more you know, the less likely you're going to use what you know to keep yourself comfy.
If I have any US citizens in my friends list who are also Muslim, I'm not aware of them off the top of my head. Assuming I have far more non-Muslim US citizens in my friends list, to those of you in this category, treat this as required reading. Europe's got its own share of Islamophobia, but the US is what I know. I spent more time critiquing than praising, but this review is for my own benefit first, those of a few who I know have an active interest in my writing second, and the random pedestrian third, the last never being for Entertainment. You can bypass this recommendation if you know the intricacies of Shia-Sunni relations, Black Muslims, Assyrians, Palestinians, Syrian Jewish people, Saudi Arabia, polygamy, arranged marriages, LGBTQIA in Islam, and menstruation during Ramadan. If you're looking for mental illness with regards to orthodox religions, sorry. You'll have to join me in looking elsewhere.
It is nice that there is a Muslim fiction book out. And on top of that, it all happened in Indianapolis. One problem though. We read it in school and it wasn't appropriate. It was kind of extreme. Some naive paren tmight pick it up from the library and take it home for their 12 or 13 year old child to read. The problem is that it can easily confuse ANYONE. If you don't discuss it with someone who has read it, you deen can be altered. Lucky enough for me, I had my english teacher and the rest of my class to discuss it with. The girl in the book immigrates from Syria and moves to Indianapolis area. It takes place in the 70s and 80s. It goes from when the girl, Khadra, is young and her innocent parents try to "protect" her and her siblings from the "evils" of America. My first problem was the language. In the first few pages, the F word shows up quite a few times. Other words show up throughout the book but in the beginning is what bothered me the most. If it wasn't for the fact that I was reading it for a grade, I would have put it down right away. I kept reading and noticed other things on the way. As the girl matures, we hear about everything! Literally, EVERYTHING. Right when she hits puberty, we know her graphic reaction. Kind of awkward when reading it in class, with Muslim boys with you! Anyway, then when she firsts starts feeling attraction for boys (the first being her brother's best friend), we laugh about her shyness. But then, it is time for her to get married. When she does get married, we see the horror she goes through when she marries a demanding husband. When she describes her, ahem, joyful times, we stare at the pages in shock. Is this really an Islamic book? Should we even be reading this? But then again, I remember I have to read this book to pass my class so I continue. I read about how she 'accidently' got pregnant but doesn't want to have a baby. Deciding to get an abortion, she drives to the clinic with her non-Muslim friend. We read about when she gets a divorce. Before her marriage, she goes for Hajj. I was thinking, "okay so maybe the book gets better from here." Was I wrong. She gets raped. During her time in Saudi Arabia, in MECCA! And WE read about it. How sad. We read about her struggles with hijab. We read about how she started as a hijabi. We read about when she questions it. We read about when she takes it off. We read about when she puts it back on. We read about when she takes it off AGAIN. We read about when she becomes a 'liberal' hijabi. She puts it on when she feels like it. We read about how she is friends with this other not practicing muslim guy, with whom she discusses about 'deepening' the friendship physically. I was in shock about their discussions. I don't even feel like continuing about the book anymore. I think I will take a break about this review and move on.
Please, if you do read this book, read it with care.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf is long and dense, but well worth the investment. Though this story is about Khadra, a Syrian-American Muslim who grows up in Indiana in the 1970s and 80s, it's really the story of finding a balance between your parents' beliefs and histories and your own. This could be the story of almost any child of immigrants, with slight modifications for culture and religion.
The plot is too complex to go into detail here, but if you're looking for a book that explores the complexities of being a Muslim in America, you've found a good starting point.
(Normally this book would be more of a 4 than a 5, but given our current climate of Islamphobia and Muslim extremism, I feel like the spiritual journey taken by Khadra Shamy is one that is important for us all).
Khadra Shamy's family is from Syria. They're Muslim. Her parents come to America to attend college in Colorado and upon graduating, her father finds himself accepting a position at a Muslim outreach center in Indianapolis, IN. It's the 70s in the Heartland, and Muslims are viewed with suspicion and hatred, which is the social structure young Khadra learns to navigate.
Khadra's parents are strictly observant. They are halal and haram. Khadra grows up to believe the way her parents have taught her. She enters into what should be a perfect marriage, and this is where her journey of self-discovery truly begins. Traveling to Syria to visit family and then moving to Philadelphia, Khadra slowly learns what it is that *she* believes and why. During this time, she discovers different narratives for the same events. For example, her parents taught her to support the over-throw of the Shah of Iran and believe that the Iranian students were correct. But then she has a Persian roommate, who breaks down in a terror describing how her mother was killed on the streets during the Revolution by women wearing the hijab and shouting propaganda. She finds that one of her best friends is a Jewish woman, who completely understand her religious observances and respects them. They have everything in common, except Israel. Khadra learns from her aunt how her uncle was killed by Jewish settlers when he tried to flee Palestine, but she also learns to see other perspectives.
Eventually she returns to IN to do a story on a Muslim conference. There she is reunited with many of her old friends. She learns that her ruthless piety as a teenager made them wary of her, but she also discovers that she has a place among them. They understand her and love her.
In what can only be described as delicious irony, the story comes to a close with her baby brother, Jihad, professing love for the Mormon girl, whose family were close friends with the Shamys all through Khadra's childhood. At this point she realizes how much her family has assimilated into American culture, yet how they've also maintained their sense of self. Indiana is no longer a hostile place with KKK members looking to rape and kill Muslim women driving alone. It has grown and changed as much as Khadra has.
I feel that this story is so important because everyone...no matter their beliefs...should have a period of reflection, painful growth, and shedding of one's skin. Khadra remains a devout Muslim woman throughout. She keeps her hijab because it makes her feel safer and more free, for example. But her practice of Islam becomes less narrow-minded and ritual bound. She sees the forest for the trees.
At a time in our world's history when we have greater understand and acceptance of "others", we also find ourselves in situations where we wish to use racism or hate or anger to fuel our decisions. We being the collective "we" of humanity. What I found beautiful about Khadra's story is that she could have closed herself off entirely and stayed firmly within the bounds as she'd been taught by her parents and community, but instead, she takes a spiritual journey and becomes true to herself while still having an open heart for others. We need more Khadras in the world right now.
I read this for my Women in Religion class, and I’m so glad it was assigned because it was amazing! This is a coming of age story about a woman and her relationship with Islam that changes and evolves overtime as she has new experiences throughout early adulthood. Overall, it’s such a beautiful story and I think almost every reader with find something in this book that will resonate with them.
And finally one day she was done. Exhausted. As if she'd traveled down the seven gates of hell, discarding at every door some breastplate or amulet that used to shore her up. She felt empty. Crumpled and empty, that was her. Like a jilbab you've taken off your body and hung on a nail.
In about 15 years, “Muslim Fiction” is going to claim it’s rightful place as a distinct and thriving genre, and The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf will be the first book in the canon.
Mohja Kahf’s book is a wildly familiar look into life in a Muslim-American family that rings true for people in all corners of the country (and probably Canada). While some of the other reviews here say this is a good read for non-Muslims who want a primer on the lives of Muslim Americans, let me say that I don’t think y’all are the primary audience of this book. Kahf writes from what is obviously very personal experience, but this is by no means a primer. This is a raw, uncensored, gotta-ask-your-imam-if-that’s-true-afterwards type of book. If you don’t know anything about Muslims, this will be a very confusing ride for you.
Anyway -- the actual book. It’s clear from the get-up that Kahf is a talented writer, moving effortlessly from 3rd person narration to the flow of stream of consciousness from Khadra’s perspective. It’s good stuff. While Khadra is not always this loveable, do-no-wrong protagonist, she comes across as a real human (a strong perk of writing such realistic fiction). She is not a hero or villain, role model or scare tactic; she is just Khadra from Indianapolis, and she’s the character that we all need to read sometimes to remind ourselves that our experiences are painful, amazing, unhappy, difficult, and above all that, normal.
Making peace with disillusionment Mohja Kahf presents an insider’s loving view of Islam through this coming-of-age immigrant novel, The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf . Khadra Shamy, a young Syrian girl, moves to Indiana with her family to be missionaries to the evil Western world and help the American Muslims navigate the difficulties in clashes between shariah law and American law. They face many difficulties as they build the small Dawah Center into an established Muslim community. Khadra struggles between doing what is expected of a proper Muslim girl -- the limitations it puts on staying true to herself – and the freedom that American culture offers. As Khadra grows, she sheds her black-and-white thinking with the stages of childhood: discovering that her idealistic view of Islam is not always perfectly practiced in Arab or American lands, that parents sometimes lie, and that she can be a good Muslim while also being an independent woman.
The author advocates Islam as love, a woman’s right to enter a mosque and pray and learn, and the importance of Mohammed’s wives. It also reveals that shariah law allows abortion up to 120 days, and wife-initiated divorce – showing how progressive Islam could be considered. This is juxtaposed with one character’s suicide bombing, polygamy, Holocaust denial, the delight the Muslims took in the Iranian hostage situation and the Iranian Revolution. As Khadra grows older, she meets many who disagree with the views she was brought up with, and she begins to challenge them and herself to seek a way to tie her beliefs and new understanding together.
I enjoyed reading this novel for the inside take on Islam. However, in my view, it is a little too easy to say, “oh their interpretation is wrong, that is why they commit these terrible acts.” It is too easy to say that jihad ought to be a war of words, not violence, when it is obvious that many interpret passages of the Quran to be a call to violence. I agree with the author that most Muslims are more apt to desire peace – as most people in general are – than to wish to be a radical and possibly lose their lives, but it also seems like a pat answer. Fundamentalists of any religion are dangerous, but the idea of martyrdom has drawn many after all. Kahf mentions the Islamic challenges to freedom, yet seems to believe that these will fade away as Muslims encounter Western culture and assimilate only the good aspects of it. This can be true for some communities, but certainly not all. This is in rather direct opposition to Ayaan Hirsi Ali’s portrayal of the Muslim interactions with the Western world and I am more inclined to believe Ali, who has gone through much tribulation for challenging woman's freedom and place in Islam.
For further reading: check out Ayaan Hirsi Ali’s two wonderful books: A Caged Virgin and Infidel.
I want to end with this quote by Khadra’s father from The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf. “Brothers, do not for a minute think that we will stop protesting against the immoral and unfair policies of America outside, in the Muslim world. May my tongue be cut off if I forget Jerusalem. But let’s face it: here inside American, there are many good qualities. Law and order, cleanliness, democracy, freedom to work and honestly seks the provision of the Lord, freedom to practice religion. These are Islamic qualities. America is like Islam without Muslims. And our sick and corrupt Muslim home countries – they are like Muslims without Islam” (144).
I heard about this on an NPR broadcast and was really interested by the premise - a Syrian immigrant girl growing up Muslim in the heartland. I found the writing a bit stilted at first, but then became absorbed in the story and in the view of the culture that Khadra grows up in. So many interesting traditions, stories, and ideas, even about things as mundane as cleanliness, that made me feel like the book opened up a whole new world for me. I read some comments saying that it seems like this book was written for Muslims since there are a lot of sayings or terms that Kahf doesn't define, but I found that parts of it did describe - although in a roundabout way - or explain what the terms meant, not necessarily so that I knew what they were exactly, but so that I had enough of an idea so that I could understand the progression of the story, without slowing the pace of the narrative to explain everything. In a way, I think it was a good as someone outside the culture to experience what it's like to have a barrage of new, unfamiliar words bandied about - I don't think the non-Muslim reader is supposed to feel fully comfortable with the way the novel is written, just as Khadra doesn't feel fully accepted or at home amongst her schoolmates. It felt like it reinforced her overall feeling of being a Muslim, being Syrian, and yet being American, and having to deal with the conflicting memberships and loyalties between those identities. (There were, however, a lot of characters, and it was difficult to keep them all straight, especially when they were referenced way later in the book without a contextual reminder of who they were... some sort of chart would have definitely been helpful.)
I liked how the book walked through Khadra's life and through that, showed many diverse forms of Muslim belief, showing how Islam is not a monolithic institution, but like many religions, has its different sects and more conservative and liberal strains that don't always agree with one another. Growing up in a conservative religious household myself (although more moderate on the spectrum than Khadra's family was), I could identify with parts of her story and with descriptions of her community, so that helped me to appreciate her story more. It was also interesting reading about her interactions with friends of different religions, and trying to make connections with them while also maintaining her values - not always an easy balance, as she shows.
I also liked how Khadra struggled with women's roles in Islam, sometimes finding the traditional roles comfortable and upright, and other times clashing with them and seeing them as limiting or unfair (as with her not being able to go into the mosque in Saudi Arabia, or not being able to participate in the recitation of the Quran). I was really surprised that the novel dealt with some of the issues that it did in that respect because I imagined that they would be so taboo, but I found that I respected Kahf more for bringing them up and for having her characters deal with real life - with things that we are not always comfortable with. Through all of that, Khadra's wearing or not wearing the hijab was an interesting symbol of her personal and religious growth and identity. I'm not sure that I would re-read this because a lot of the interest for me was discovering Khadra's world for the first time and tracing her path, but I would definitely read other books by Kahf.
Reading The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf felt strange to me - in a good way. It was the first time I had ever read a book in which I felt like I could have been on the next page, a part of the story. I KNOW the community; I have dealt with every character she described. It felt like "coming home" to a place I know and love with all its warts and scars.
The writing style was a bit sparse for my taste, hence the 4 stars rather than 5. But the story was riviting. I think there is a universal truth to the growth of the main character - Khadra - that I found compelling. If you have been in the Muslim community for more than 10 years, you simply MUST read this book!
I read up until pg. 339 and stopped because I just wasn't interested in the story. There's no plot..or, rather, there's no continuity in the events that take place in the novel. Persecution, alienation, resentment, radicalism, etc. Stages of a young woman's spiritual development. And that was it. Characters enter and leave, we don't get to know them at all. The prose is clunky at times. Maybe I would have enjoyed it more had I been able to relate to and understand Khadra's experiences. Maybe I was disappointed because I had read two chapters from the novel earlier and I had very high expectations before starting it.
I read this for an Islamic feminist class at my university, so I had the benefit of reading it with Muslim women nearby who grew up with similar experiences. It helped flesh out this story, which does its best to cover ALL the different varieties of backgrounds and traditions Muslim-Americans grow up with and try to incorporate their lives. A very, very good story if you're looking to learn something.
I read this for the 2021 Popsugar Challenge prompt "a book by a Muslim American author". It's an in-depth look in novel form of a young Muslim American coming of age, and changing her reaction to her faith as she matures. In the process I learned a lot about the Muslim faith and practices.
I loved this read. A privileged insight (was tempted to write a glimpse under the hijab, but dismissed it as too corny) into the life of a young Muslim woman in Midwest America. "How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" - Psalm 137
I read this book for a class in college. I saw something that made me think of the story the other day, and this is definitely a book that has stuck with me in many ways.
Great job unpacking what it was like growing up in the Midwest as a Muslim, with stories and characters illustrating the wide variations in American Islam. But the sweet vignettes of childhood were overshadowed by haunting stories of suffering... not an easy read in that sense.
This one has been on my TBR a long time. Sometimes this status doesn't bode well but have to say the book is amazing. It's set in Indiana, a place I lived, so I imagine that's also why it was on my list. You get a look at Islam and different ways of practicing, if you aren't familiar, but the themes are relatable either way. And you briefly visit Syria through the main character, too - always a plus to leave the US.
The quote about being hard on systems and gentle on people comes to mind. Also the old twilight zone show - people are alike all over. I had this experience running up against doubt, eldership, rules, question of truth, etc in Christianity that she had in Islam. I loved the people who taught me how to *be* in my religion and felt comfort from that in a certain way, but I chafed under the harsh system of control, like Khadra in the story. She compared feeling constrained to an insect shedding its outer chitin layer, which is perfect. But I think you can relate whether the system you feel confined by is white supremacy, capitalism, imperialism, patriarchy or whatever.
She had a character reading a volume of poetry, an 11th volume I think, by her, the author!! I still need to look up if this is real or just a fun cameo. I'm not so familiar with the author.
I thought The Girl in the Tangerine Scarf was very thought-provoking in the sense that it explores one's relationship with religion and family -- one's upbringing can be vastly different than the beliefs that shape one's adult life. I enjoyed reading about the intertwined community and roots that Khadra grew up in -- some parts of it good, some bad, but still deeply formative. Her aunt Téta was probably my favorite character, with her wisdom, hidden Ottoman coins, and vibrance. However, the fact is that Khadra goes through some really terrible stuff. Her friend's older sister is brutally raped and murdered by the Ku Klux Klan (and the community armors itself against this terrible incident, somewhat understandably, by shaking their head and blaming the victim, which I can't stand). As Khadra gets older, the veils of innocence fall away and she starts observing how sexist her community really is -- her brother, Eyad, and her parents are consistently against many of her headstrong actions, not to mention the rest of the community. One of the most nauseating parts of the book is definitely when Khadra and her family go on Hajj and then Khadra finds herself stuck with rich, druggie kids and then is raped -- the worst nightmare of any woman, but surely even worse after such a religious experience. When she gets married to a man she hardly knows, Khadra faces much the same from him and an even greater level of communal disapproval, and it's quietly crushing by the time she contracts severe depression and has an abortion -- which all but shatters her life. The rest of the novel deals with Khadra's self-exploration as she goes back to school, meets a wide cast of friends, and redefines what it means to be Khadra Shamys.
I liked the book, but I was nearly drowned by the grief and horror of Khadra's experiences. Not only that, but I also found the shifting tense irritating; it wasn't systematically organized, leaving the reader to deduce the shift from the 1970s to the present by the tense.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I gave this book five stars, not because it ranks up there with To Kill a Mockingbird or other classics, but because I did find it to be amazing--for me. It may be that it was just the right book for me at the right time. I'm a Muslim convert of almost two years and I admit to having been confused by all the different messages you get about what it means to be a Muslim. This book covers almost all of these messages and shows how one Muslim woman incorporated them into her heart and life.
Khadra is not a convert; she was raised in a fairly strict Muslim home from birth. The book follows her from childhood to the age of 26 and paints a convincing portrait of the seeking that a young adult goes through no matter what his or her religion. There are many issues dealt with here: the split between the West and the East, the struggle to find one's identity as an immigrant, racism and discrimination, fundamentalism, wearing the hijab, the meaning of faith, the different kinds of Muslims (Sufi, Shia and Sunni), the controversy over Palestine and Israel--a lot is packed into one book! But most of all, this is a coming-of-age story.
I don't know how confusing I might have found this book if I wasn't a Muslim. (Some reviewers have reported finding it confusing.) I think this would be an excellent book to use in an Intro to Islam course where the issues could be discussed with a knowledgeable teacher. Or in any context where there is dialogue between Muslims and non-Muslims. But it would also be a great book to use in a new Muslim class, to help converts understand the whole scope of Islam and not just see a small segment of it.
"A Tree Grows in Brooklyn", except with Muslims and in Indiana.
I dig coming of age stories, and stories about Islam because i'm a Middle Eastern studies student, so naturally I really enjoyed reading this book. Kahf uses beautiful prose to tell the story of Khadra's growth and change in her faith starting with her fundamentalist upbringing in Indiana, through a disastrous marriage, and to the streets of Damascus. I loved all of the complex themes and the multifaceted discussion of Islam. This book is 450 pages long, and it covers a lot of ground. Women in Islam, the troubles between Sunni and Shiites, racism within the faith, international politics, American perceptions of Muslims, love, dating, and much more. And at the heart is Khadra, an unforgettable heroine who you can't help but feel for. My heart hurt when I read about her struggles, and I soared with her triumphs.
However, I found that the HUGE cast of characters was hard to keep track of after awhile. Additionally I felt like there was no climax, and it ended very suddenly. I understand why this was done the way it was because it was meant to be a realistic story, but after over 400 pages of Khadra's life it felt like a bit of a let down.
I selected this book to fulfill the challenge category of a book set in my home state. I found it to be compellingly written, and quite informative of a faith other than my own.
Several women said this was the best book we have read thus far, and at the same time it brought out painful expressions related to race and culture. Our book group seemed to feel that this is an informative book that has a healthy sense of resolve at the end. There was an energetic discussion about a woman’s inward and outward relationship with the Hijab (and other forms of head coverings observed by our group members) and also the varying feelings about wearing it among different generations of women within the same family. It was a fascinating glimpse into a different way of life for many of us. We would highly recommend this book. Review by Andover Group.
A novel about a Syrian-American girl growing up in Indiana during the 1970s and 80s, in search of her own way in the world. Excellent book for reading and discussion; gave great insight on being raised a Muslim in America. (Merrimack Valley)
A young woman's coming of age story; coming of age as an American Muslim of Syrian-born parents in Indianapolis. An earlier working title was "Greetings from Islamistan, Indiana." Time is from the 1970's to the early 90's. The girl is Khadra, with one older and one younger brother. Her parents are political refugees from Syria but never talk about it. The politics are in the background but not off stage.
I chose to read it because the author is one of the contributors to the book "The Veil" which I finished reading a few months ago.
It's a bit long, but in being so it allows the reader to get immersed in the world of this community. The older Khadra gets the more interesting her story. True of all of us. There are tensions and stresses - else what would be the interest - but the familial and community ties stretch but do not break.
This book is about growing up Muslim in Indiana in the 1970s. I think that there was a lot that I didn’t get from the first reading, lacking the cultural references, but overall I found this book enjoyable. Really the main character as she develops into a woman is searching her spiritual, cultural, feminist, intellectual and religious identity. And while all her cues were different than mine, I felt that it was still identifiable. Her parents are fundamentalist Islam, but I liked them. And Kahdja self awareness moments were soft and seemed real. I will have to read this book again, but look forward to taking my time with it the second time around, as I think there is a lot to uncover. Or cover. Depending.
With exquisite, poetic prose, Kahf teaches us so much about the diversity of American Muslims. You can see the commonalities between the immigrant Muslim community and the conservative Midwestern culture, between the child of Christian missionaries and the child of those commissioned to shore up and educate the faith and practice of Muslims in America, between the orthodox Jewish woman and the conservative Muslim woman, and the outsiderness of any religious person In secular society. Perspectives that I only wondered about, but never heard--on the Iranian revolution, Palestine, The Gulf war, the immodesty of American women, and the varieties of hijab.
Wow. I read this book because I was considering using it in a course that I teach, but I found it to be utterly fascinating. It is extremely well written as it conveys the experience of someone who grows up in America but is not of the dominant cultural group. The experiences of the central character--as well as of her neighbors, friends, and family--as they navigate American culture along with their relationships with others from their homelands make for a compelling story. I was sorry when this book ended. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know all of the characters and to understand their lives, views, and experiences. I highly recommend this book
The writing isn't particularly good but the story is most excellent... a frank, engaging, down-to-earth narrative about growing up Muslim American that doesn't try to pull any punches or pretty up the experience of dealing with malicious and/or kindly well-meaning racism at every turn. It also deftly explores the experience of being too "foreign" for America but too American to go anywhere else, and looks at how one woman navigates these forces and works to make of her life what she wants to.