I admit to
being fascinated by books that narrate stories away from me, not only from a
geographical point of view, but especially culturally. This novel by Tahmina
Anam, which tells of Bangladesh in the 80s (with some small glimpse
of the 70s), is one of those books that eventually attracts me right from the
cover and from the promise of an “exotic” story than this suggests. Only when
reading it I discovered that it was the second book of a trilogy, but you can
easily appreciate it without having read the previous one.
As always,
when I face these stories, I feel mixed feelings. I have a tendency to want to
find inside them some references that somehow recall what I know. In this
sense, I immediately identified with the character of the protagonist, Maya, a
modern woman, close to our Western idea of a woman, despite being showed in
distant country and in a relatively distant time (thirty years are many).
Beside her are small details, like her mother watching “Dallas ” on TV, exactly as I did in those
days as a child.
The rest is
largely different, almost alien, and sometimes disturbing. Her brother, who
became from atheist to religious fanatic, after the war, closing stubbornly
back into his world, drawing his son Zaid into it, makes you angry. His way of
being deaf in front of his loved ones makes you upset and curious, since it
leads to wonder why he has become so, and along with the protagonist you still
want to find in him a glimpse of the man who had been before. The desire, never
satisfied, to understand what goes into his head is with you for most of the
book.
And then
there are the personal and sentimental vicissitudes of Maya representing the
only comforting aspect of this story when you come to its conclusion.
Everything
is shown with an intense and evocative prose, combined with a game of
flashbacks that like pieces of a puzzle reconstruct the story of Maya and
Soheil, against the backdrop of a distant country, difficult to understand and
imagine, in a merciless reality where there is no place for a happy ending, but
only hope.
Although I
read this book with great pleasure, although I got carried away with ease by
its words, and although I decided to give it full marks, I won’t certainly read
the previous nor the following one. The author is so good at making you live
her stories that I prefer not to go forward, because I just cannot bear the
winding sense of bitterness that has remained with me in reading them.
The Good Muslim on Amazon.com.
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