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Exit West by Mohsin Hamid -- Discussion/Spoilers
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The early relationship between Saeed's parents and how they met was also touching. They were both readers and I loved the scene that described their smoking:
He smoked and she said she didn't, but often, when the ash of his seemingly forgotten cigarette grew impossibly extended, she took it from his fingers, trimmed it softly against an ashtray, and pulled a long and rather rakish drag before returning it, daintily.
That scene still makes me smile while typing it.
Inevitably, we need to talk about the device of the doors. Hamid has said that he didn't want to talk about the obviously arduous journeys to get to the places of migration. Instead, he wanted to talk about the process of being in those places, the experience of being a migrant when they arrived. He made reference to the door in the The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe in one interview. It absolutely worked for me. Did it for you? In fact, I don't want to turn this into a discussion of The Underground Railroad which we discussed here earlier. But, while their devices are similar, this one worked better for me.

There was a long section of the book where Saeed and Nadia were housed in a former mansion in London. While there, Saeed joins a prayer group and Nadia joins a group of Nigerian residents. I thought the book was going to go in a different direction at this point, but it did not.


Sherry, I very much agree with you. The magical realism of the doors was jarring in this novel and off-putting for me, too. I recognize the brilliance of this writer but the novel as a whole did not work for me. The characters were so compelling but I almost think a longer, more fleshed out book would have been more to my liking. I know I am in the minority in my view of this book - I liked it but didn't love it.


Even though the door thing didn't work for me, I still would recommend the book for the wonderful writing.

For me, the door thing was a lazy invention that spared the writer the necessity of dealing with all it can take to relocate as an immigrant, and to me this is a great deal of the immigrant story.
The writing was sometimes nice (as was the quoted cigarette scene above between Saeed's parents), but more and more, as the story went on, it became kind of "and this happened, then this happened."
The book was an interesting effort that I would give 2.5 stars.

Overall, what struck me was the writing on a sentence and paragraph level. Tonya, I hope you decide to read it because I think you would like it for that reason.
One of the parts that has retained it's moving quality for me was Saeed's father's thought about the arc of life before Saeed left and the reasons why he refused to go. Part of it is here:
...the arc of a child's life only appears for a while to match the arc of a parent's, in reality one sits atop the other, a hill atop a hill, a curve atop a curve, and Saeed's father now needed to curve lower, while his son's still curved higher, for with an old man hampering them these two young people were simply less likely to survive.
I don't think I will forget that for a while.
Mary Anne, I was worried where Saeed's development was going in London for a while as well. But, one thing I love about Hamid's writing is the way he can present meanings of Islam for the average Muslim. I could very much relate to the feeling of comfort he got from the prayers. I am an atheist but was raised in a church that made me very happy when I was a little girl. So, when I hear church music or when I went back to church as a young adult, I find/found it very comforting. But, that was because of the memories. In Saeed's case, the actual belief is comforting as well. That makes total sense to me given the loss of his country and his family.


My first Mohsin Hamid, not my last. I loved his clear, simple, straightforward writing, the modern voice. I quite liked the unorthodox styling – I did wonder at the beginning about what was happening with the closet door man entering the bedroom and leaving by the window, but then it slipped into what seemed to all intents and purposes a more traditional format of a love story. But this was jarred into reality every so often by the increasingly civil unrest, grumbling in the background and then nearer to home and more impactful. The writer’s hand was very deft at slipping in those pictures of violence, of what would happen to people such as their shroom dealer. As a reader I was not prepared for Saeed’s mother’s death and actually felt a sense of shock at it, as the family would have, how the fighting had just become personal. The jolt as it is realised that the unnoticed slide into chaos and conflict slams home. Equally, the decay in Saeed and Nadia’s relationship with the strain of upheaval, movement, and dislocation was subtly handled, creeping along as it would have over bumps, with no instantaneous angry disintegration.
Re the doors - The fleeting glimpses of other doors, others’ migrations were like video newsreels playing out on the social media Saeed and Nadia were so connected to, and which kept them connected to the world. It would have been so easy for the author to write these as media stories, YouTube videos, but this way enhances their impact, conveys the almost unreality of the underground system of people smuggling, the rumour mills, gossip circles and chat rooms in which such shady dealing take place, and the darkness, the uncertainty of their crossings, the disorientation of the migrant’s landing, their washing up on beaches, their emergence from packed over ground transportation lorries in unknown, unnamed places, their dumping, their being left to fend. For me the doors worked, they added wonder, uncertainty, unfilled gaps whilst at the same time making survival and arrival that bit magical.
Every so often I was brought up sharp by his writing eg “….Saeed’s mother’s mental map of the place where she had spent her entire life now resembled an old quilt, with patches of government land and patches of militant land. The frayed seams between the patches were the most deadly spaces, and to be avoided at all costs. Her butcher and the man who dyed the fabrics from which she had once made her festive clothes disappeared into such gaps…” Beautifully ugly.
Overall I enjoyed the story and was glad I read it, so thanks to the nominee. It would make an interesting film.

I appreciate all the quotes you added, Barbara and Sheila. I read this in the spring and the quotes reminded me of the beauty in Hamid's writing.
I listened to this in audio read by the author. I am always skeptical when an author is also the narrator, but he was outstanding in bringing his story to life, definitely adding to my enjoyment of the book.

I don’t entirely believe in the reality of realism. Lived human experience is too weird. Neuroscientists tell us that our brains are constantly constructing a representation of the world that is useful but is also inaccurate, invented. Mystics tell us much the same. I’ve always had an element of the unreal in my books. A little bit of the unreal can heighten our sense of reality by allowing us to experience something that knows it is a fiction but feels at the same time true. In the past, the strand of unreality I’ve explored has mostly been a formal strand, one rooted in the form a novel takes, the way it sets up the story it is telling. This time, the strand of unreality is in the plot, in the physics of the world, with the existence of these doors. The doors felt quite real to me when I was writing them. I could imagine them existing. And they allowed me to compress the next century or two of human migration on our planet into the space of a single year, and to explore what might happen after.
Here's the whole interview - really interesting!https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-...


I've not read anything by him either, but also will search out his other books, especially The Reluctant Fundamentalist, which was made into a movie in 2012.

I only copied one sentence in my notes: Nadia's group is debating passive or active resistance, "But in the nearby house of his fellow countryfolk the man with the white-marked beard spoke of martyrdom, not as the most desirable outcome but as one possible end of a path the right-minded had no other choice but to follow, and advocated a banding together of migrants along religious principles, cutting across divisions of race or language or nation, for what did those divisions matter now in a world full of doors..."


Tonya wrote that from the start she felt that the book “is written and reads like a fable.” That was also my experience, and so I did not find the “doors” jarring.
I also saw the story as a look at a dystopian future, where the flood of immigrants has increased to a deluge, British nativists advocate murdering the refugees who have taken over large parts of London, and beautiful – and very rich- Mairin County has been transformed into huge refugee camps.
The problems of the present day are greatly magnified in this future. Hamid writes:
The news in those days was full of war and migrants and nativists, and it was full of fracturing too, of regions pulling away from nations, and cities pulling away from hinterlands, and it seemed that as everyone was coming together everyone was also moving apart. (p. 157)
And later:
All over the world people were slipping away from where they had been, from once fertile plains cracking with dryness, from seaside villages gasping beneath tidal surges, from overcrowded cities and murderous battlefields, and slipping away from other people too, people they had in some cases loved… (p. 213)
And yet, civilization steps back from the abyss.
the apocalypse appeared to have arrived and yet it was not apocalyptic, which is to say that while the changes were jarring they were not the end, and life went on, and people found things to do …(p 217)
Life goes on. Nadia and Saeed survive and even meet 50 years later.
A happy ending?



Suzy, you're the only other reader I've seen who thought that Exit West worked better for you than Underground Railroad. I had the same reaction. I wonder if it's because Whitehead changed past events while Hamid worked with the future.

That's an interesting thought, Barbara. Through so much of UR, I was wondering what was fact and what was fiction, which was unsettling and distracting.



Thanks, Mary Anne for sharing this! I love that he got his idea from a seemingly unrelated activity - I always enjoy knowing where people get their ideas from. And regarding his intention for the reader, I would say he succeeded brilliantly.

You seem to have many opportunities to hear writers speak. Lucky you! What organization sponsors the talks?

www.pittsburghlectures.org

In spite of its strengths, I have to say that I found parts of this novel incredibly boring. My problem is that I am deeply attached to character-driven novels, and Saeed and Nadia failed to come to life for me--they seemed absolutely stock figures, manipulated by the author for the sake of his parable. There's nothing wrong with that, it's just not to my personal taste. So, not for the first time, I'm in the minority on this one.


Books mentioned in this topic
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (other topics)Moth Smoke (other topics)
The Reluctant Fundamentalist (other topics)
How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia (other topics)
Exit West (other topics)
More...
Mohsin Hamid was born in Lahore, Pakistan and spent part of his childhood in the U.S. and also in Lahore. He received his education at Princeton and Harvard Law School. He also lived in London as an adult. He moved back to Lahore in 2009 with his wife and daughter. He's written 4 novels: Moth Smoke, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia and Exit West. He's also written a book of essays, Discontent and Its Civilizations: Dispatches from Lahore, New York, and London.
I listened to a great Fresh Air interview with him in March. You can find a transcribed link to it here: http://www.npr.org/templates/transcri...