Sara Yasin

A Thousand Rooms of Dream and Fear

alicia — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Yama Yari, Sarah Maguire, Atiq Rahimi

Set in Kabul in 1979, A Thousand Rooms of Dream and Fear is a surreal and beautiful account of the experiences of a young man who wakes up in the home of a widow following an altercation with checkpoint guards. Almost poetic in its descriptions, one sees the story develop through the cloudy and confused eyes of Farhad. Alternating between his lucid dreams and what actually is occurring around him, the reader is tossed into his confusion, in understanding how he ended up in the home of a widow, and why her son addresses him as ‘father’.

The structure that Rahimi uses is quite unique as it flows much like a poem, rather than a chronological story, but I felt that this technique was successful because it illustrated how confusing and simple it was for the protagonist to end up in his position, being protected by the widow, despite the danger that it would cause her.

While initially I was uneasy about the unstructured format of the novel, I eventually grew to appreciate it. However, by the time the plot began to gain momentum, the novel was finished, and I wished it were longer. The disconnected and dream-like voice of the author is effective in showing the emotions and confusion of being in the midst of political and religious unrest. We see the protagonist’s journey in trying to understand what is actually occurring around him. The lack of structure demonstrates the lack of stability that Farhad has, even as he gains consciousness.

The female characters in the novel are quite significant, as they are the ones that protect and save Farhad. The widow, in particular, is a character that I wish were developed more, and one of the main reasons why I wished that the novel were longer. She is not a romantic object for Farhad, even though he has a fleeting attraction to her. Instead, she acts as a maternal figure to him when he is recovering from his attack. In learning about her past, we learn more about the volatile atmosphere in Kabul, and eventually, how simple it was to have your life completely altered.

We eventually learn that Farhad was a university student, who had his life endangered because of an evening that involved too much drinking. Illustrating the relationship between the political and the personal, Rahimi shows how even the life of an uninvolved young man could be unravelled by the political unrest of the time. I wondered how much of Farhad’s voice reflected the experiences of Rahimi. The author exited Afghanistan following the Soviet invasion in 1979, the same year in which the novel is set. Rahimi eventually settled in France, where he is a filmmaker and writer.

I thoroughly enjoyed this novel, and I thought it was one of the strongest novels I have read this year. It is an easy, beautiful, and somewhat heartbreaking read.

Written by: Sara Yasin, February 7th 2011

Are You My Guru? How Medicine, Meditation, and Madonna Saved my Life

barbara — Sat, 13 Nov 2010 16:00:00 +0000

By Wendy Shanker

Penguin

Are You My Guru: How Medicine, Meditation, and Madonna Saved My Life is Wendy Shanker’s follow-up to The Fat Girl’s Guide to Life. It is a hilarious and inspiring account of Shanker’s battle with Wegener’s disease, a rare autoimmune disease that results in inflammation of blood vessels in various organs. Using her love of Madonna as well as her journey in trying to find treatment in traditional and alternative forms of medicine, Shanker dangerously treads Eat Pray Love territory but ultimately gives an honest account of her journey.

The book reads like an open conversation, and I could hear Shanker telling me about her struggles to juggle a fatal disease, her weight, and her stressful work life. Rather than writing as a distant and wise survivor, Shanker writes as a relatable source, another person struggling with her own conflict. Her strength is in writing about the struggles to maintain both physical and spiritual health, and how the two correlate. Rather than reading as a self-help novel, Shanker’s work serves as a self-reflection piece, serving as a conversation piece in understanding how we define health today, particularly as it pertains to women.

While Shanker clearly states that her book is her own journey with finding peace with her condition, Are You My Guru began to resemble Eat Pray Love in some of its more contrived moments of enlightenment. While Shanker used these moments sparingly, I was still hesitant about some of the conveniently “miraculous” moments of the book. Both Gilbert and Shanker speak of random moments of clarity, or messages from God in the most tight of situations. While some of Shanker’s more convenient moments (i.e something she prays for coming true at that moment), may be true, maybe the skeptic in me believes that those moments are there more for substance. Some may read her book and try to use it as the foundation of their own treatment of their own difficulties. However, Shanker is far clearer than Gilbert in cautioning readers that this was her own journey. Her book serves as an encouragement to find a regiment that suits the reader personally. Unlike Gilbert, Shanker maintains her ability to maintain intimacy with the reader.

Though I was more skeptical of some of the more “lucky” moments, where passages were stylized for the sake of substance, these moments did appear sparingly. I think the strongest aspect of Are You My Guru is Shanker’s relentless and honest optimism. Despite the hardships that are constantly thrown at her, she never asks the reader for pity, and that strength is inspiring. Shanker also changed my view of Madonna, someone that I did not really give much thought to as a feminist icon. However, her relationship with her idol is very poignant and entertaining.

Overall, I recommend Are You My Guru. Shanker is honest, vibrant, and hilarious, and I found her story to be thought provoking and well written.

Written by: Sara Yasin, November 13th 2010

This Is Where We Live

barbara — Mon, 08 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Janelle Brown

Random House

This Is Where We Live is the second novel of Janelle Brown. It is the tale of a struggling filmmaker, Claudia, and her marriage to Jeremy Munger, a struggling musician. A couple in their thirties who are also new homeowners, the Mungers deal with the financial burden of their home and the shortcomings of their luck in the ways of talent in different ways. While Brown has a funny and insightful writing style, the novel ultimately falls flat. Formulaic, harsh on women, and with underdeveloped characters, Brown’s novel could have been far more powerful, but instead stayed within the safe boundaries of the “chick-lit” genre.

The strength in Brown’s book was in its ability to inspire the readers to think about their own life choices. I thought that the struggles the Mungers faced were very relatable, particularly in facing the realities of financial hardship. Brown explores the question of what happens when people with creative aspirations give up on their dreams and deal with “reality.” The dialogue was honest and witty, and presented a great account of struggling to be an optimist in a world that has become obsessed with predictability.

The women in the novel were quite problematic. Brown reinforces a few binaries recycled from romantic comedies. Conveniently, in the midst of a quasi-quarter-life crisis moment for Jeremy, his wildly artistic and unpredictable ex-girlfriend, famous artist Aoki suddenly reappears. Aoki represents everything that Claudia is not. She is impulsive, confident, sexual, and just as Jeremy remembers her from his days dating her while he was a part of a successful rock band. Claudia represents the polar opposite: stability, comfort, and reality. The female characters are one-dimensional, lazy vehicles for two cliché stereotypes of women. Brown pits comfort and stability against the unpredictable and artsy woman, an epic battle already examined in many a romantic comedy. Thus, in focusing on the romantic struggles of Jeremy, the characters are left underdeveloped.

I did enjoy how Brown left loose ends, and how the tone of the book is not happy or sad. Despite its flaws, This Is Where We Live is a great easy and lazy read, particularly for an intelligent woman on the beach. While I predicted the plot and outcome of the novel before I even opened the book, Brown’s charming wit shined through this formulaic tale. However, the astounding number of cliches overpowers the funny and unique moments of the book, such as Claudia’s relationship with an elderly neighbor or her stint as a film teacher. Despite its honesty and ability to reach out to readers, This Is Where We Live is rendered mediocre because of its inability to stray from the formula.

Written by: Sara Yasin, November 8th 2010

Elizabeth's Women: Friends, Rivals, and Foes who Shaped the Virgin Queen

barbara — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 16:00:00 +0000

By Tracy Borman

Bantam

Tracy Borman’s book, Elizabeth’s Women: The Hidden Story of the Virgin Queen, is an account of the women in the court of Queen Elizabeth I, and her relationship with them. As an avid reader of historical accounts of royals, I found this particular book to be notable for a number of reasons. It was well written, honest, and reflected Borman’s passion for the life of Queen Elizabeth I. It also draws upon issues in female leadership that are still relevant today.

First and foremost, what makes this a powerful read is Bowman’s ability to convey her passion for Elizabeth’s life, without painting a romanticized account of her leadership style and relationship with the women around her. She paints her not as a sanctified royal, but rather in a very human light. However, this humanization is not meant to make the reader pity or love Elizabeth more. For example, I remember reading Lady Antoina Fraser’s biographical work, Marie Antoinette: The Journey . Despite being an interesting and historical read, the sympathetic tone interfered with the authenticity of the book. In contrast, Borman does not try to apologise for any of the inequalities that Elizabeth perpetuated. Instead, she tries to show the roles played by the various female courtiers and relatives around her, and ultimately, Elizabeth’s role as a woman in a man’s world, and how the other women around her played into that. Rather than showing her as a revolutionary feminist figure, as others may try to paint her, Bowman’s account is very sober. It was refreshing to read about women I had not heard about before. Through the discussion of women in Elizabeth’s court, Borman also explores the influence of the private sphere on Elizabeth’s public life, and it was very interesting to learn about.

While many accounts have romanticized Elizabeth’s life in the bedroom, Borman steers clear of the topic. What was most profound for me was learning about the influence of women on Elizabeth’s leadership style. I have read a number of articles and accounts commenting on the relationship of Elizabeth with the men in court, but only vague references to her relationship to the women around her. Rather than holding her on a pedestal, Borman is able to convey the conflicts Elizabeth had with her own sex. I was reminded of debates surrounding more contemporary female leaders, and their relationships to “femininity.”

Elizabeth’s Women is rich in historical accounts, easy to read and enthralling. Beautifully written and thought-provoking, Elizabeth’s Women is one of the most impressive books I have read this year.

Written by: Sara Yasin, November 7th 2010

Masquerades

admin — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Directed by Lyès Salem

Global Film Initiative

The first feature film of Lyès Salem, Masquerades is a lighthearted and quirky comedy about an Algerian gardener, Mounir Mekbek, who dreams of a life beyond the confines of his sleepy village. His arrogance combined with his “responsibility” for a narcoleptic younger sister, Rym, make him the laughingstock of his community. He is a misunderstood dreamer who has aspirations, but can’t quite seem to pull himself together to meet the goals he has set for himself. He blames his humiliation on his sister’s illness and dreams of using the prospect of finding a good match for her to improve his standing in his village.

Following an incident at a wedding, an inebriated Mounir declares to the entire village that he has promised Rym to the wealthy foreigner. As a means of damage control, the family leaves town, in order to return and state that Rym was not interested in the gentleman. However, in order to motivate her sweetheart, Khliffa, to propose to her, Rym declares her intentions to marry the stranger.

Thus, the entire village becomes involved in the exciting lie as everyone wants to be a part of, not only planning the wedding, but the new fortune of the Mekbek family. Salem does a great job of portraying the views and reactions of the village, as well as the aspirations of the other villagers. It becomes evident that Mounir was not ridiculed for his sister, or lack of material wealth, but because of his haughty attitude towards his neighbours. Mounir is swept away in the newfound respect that he earns for commanding the regard of such a highly regarded foreigner. The introduction of the wealthy foreigner is an effective device to show the hypocrisy, but ultimately the desire Mounir has to make a better life for his wife, son, and sister.

The female cast definitely makes the movie more powerful. The character who shines the most is Habiba, Mounir’s wife, played by Rym Takoucht. She sees right through Mounir’s cocky façade, and brings him back to reality from his schemes to gain respect from the village. Her relationship with Mounir represents the realities that she has had to face, despite having been very in love with him at the time of their courtship. I was grateful that the film did not depict her as a bitter hag, but as a woman who is discontented in a sense, but keeps her family grounded in reality. Their relationship provided an interesting parallel to the courtship of Rym and Khliffa. I became disappointed towards the end of the film, because the lie about the wealthy foreigner simply goes away, and Rym ends up with Khliffa, thus providing a clean and happy ending.

Overall, I really enjoyed this film, and I thought it was a great depiction of the restlessness that comes with wanting something more in the face of socioeconomic hardship—something that I feel that many can relate to. It was also refreshing to watch a film in which an Islamic community was not depicted as the barbaric site of oppression of women, but rather showed the complex nuances of life in a small village in a changing world.

Written by: Sara Yasin, August 15th 2010

Fall

admin — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By Colin McAdam

Riverhead

Fall is the second novel of Colin McAdam. Set in an exclusive Canadian boarding high school, it is the tale of Noel, who becomes obsessed with Julius and Fall, the most beautiful and most popular couple at school. He sees himself as becoming less of an outcast when he finds out that Julius is his new roommate. Then Fall disappears and this has a profound impact on the both of them.

As someone who shamelessly loves the scandalous lives of rich and irresponsible teenagers, I thought this novel would be a bit like a good and thought-provoking version of Gossip Girl. While the look into the lives in a private high school was interesting on some level, the confusing dialogue and narration, combined with a formulaic plot and a problematic female character, made this a primarily frustrating read for me. The novel involved a great deal of dialogue between the various characters, but it became hard to keep track of who was speaking. I am always open to new forms of dialogue, but it was very hard for me to get enveloped into a story that I did not feel was structured very well.

Much of the book switches between the perspective of Noel and Julius, and usually their thoughts involve Fall. Noel is one of the most unsympathetic characters I have ever encountered. He is obsessive and creepy, and I don’t even love to hate him. A quiet, smart, and selfish young man, he is convinced that there is a cosmic connection between him and Fall, if only she could notice him. I even sympathised more with Julius, who was a stock rich-athletic-handsome-cool-boy-with-a-heart-of-gold. Julius never really developed as a character, just as Noel remained one creepy teenager.

The character that irritated me the most was Fall. She was mainly spoken about and obsessed over, serving as the springboard of the fantasies of these two young men. She is merely a manic pixie dream girl in literary form. The only main female character in this novel exists in order to show the fantasies of two rich and irresponsible young boys. She is beautiful, mysterious, unattainable, and most importantly passive. It made me feel as though that was her most desirable characteristic. Throughout the entire novel, Fall is treated as an object, because the two boys are speaking about her. Maybe the intention is to show that she did represent a certain level of fantasy for them. But why do we need another character like this?

The combination of a problematic female character, not much suspense, and a main character that was so creepy it was boring, I found Fall to be a very disappointing read.

Written by: Sara Yasin, August 10th 2010

Visibly Muslim: Fashion, Politics, Faith

admin — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 05:01:00 +0000

By Emma Tarlo

Berg Publishers

In her new book, entitled Visibly Muslim: Fashion, Politics, Faith, Emma Tarlo captures the diversity in the way that Islam is practiced against the backdrop of multicultural Britain. Refreshingly, the book did not aim to answer whether or not covering was a part of Islam, and neither did it represent the views of Muslim women as a monolithic body.

In her book, Tarlo shows a snapshot of the way in which the veil has manifested itself within the Muslim population of Britain. In focusing on the way that different Muslim women struggle to find common ground between various identities, and the reactions of those around them, Tarlo looks at the veil as a part of the changing dynamics of members of a newer community, rather than an exposé that aims to penetrate the “secret world of Muslim women.”

Within the book, Tarlo moves from discussing high-profile Muslim women, to fashion, the hijab as a part of politics, and the fluid relationship between culture and religion. She does not gloss over the difficulties in finding a bridge between identities. When I saw the words “fashion” and “veil” together, I was worried that I would be confronted with a piece that would merely wax poetic about the intricate embroidery of hijab and the wonderful colors and trends that are starting to rival the Western fashion industry. Tarlo does depict changing fashions for Muslim women, but rather as a part of personal journeys. Furthermore, she analyzes the discourse surrounding the emerging market for “modest fashion.”

The most hard-hitting theme of the book was that of integration. In writing about some of the challenges faced by Muslim women within British communities, I could definitely relate. While Tarlo introduced a great deal of personal narratives from a wide range of women, she also brought into play some of the debate surrounding the hijab within the Muslim community itself. Finding a sense of identity and purpose is a concept which most people–not just Muslims–can relate to.

What was refreshing was that she did not glorify or vilify groups that were more “modern” than others, but simply left the reader to try to understand the realities of grasping for a sense of identity. In showing this theme of integration as a part of juggling different identities, rather than a poisonous and foreign part of society, it forced me to really reflect on how difficult it is for anyone to try to fit in on any level. Rather than trying to promote an “acceptable” level of integration, Tarlo merely provides a picture of the realities of the Muslim community in Britain. This is significant because she does not depict it as a threat, but rather as important debate that shows that the face of Islam is changing and growing, as with many immigrant communities.

What I felt was monumentally missing from Tarlo’s work was the voice of Muslim women who have either been forced to veil or took it off. While she did a great job in showing the diversity of religious views and coming to the veil, I think that in analyzing the world of hijab, it is important to understand why women may reject it entirely. Also, I felt that she could have analyzed the role of socioeconomic status a bit more within the book. While the role of fashion is very significant in trying to understand the identities of Muslim women, I felt that fashion may have a different place and even the hijab itself may play a different role for someone that may not be able to afford the diversity in dress.

Despite being left with these questions, overall I was impressed with the book’s fluid style, beautiful pictures, and honest stories. Furthermore, I enjoyed Tarlo’s dedication to trying to capture not only a snapshot of the Muslim community within Britain, but also in trying to introduce the difficulties within the Islamic community itself. She does not glorify the hijab or Islam, but rather highlights the realities faced by Muslim women.

Cross-posted on Muslimah Media Watch

Written by: Sara Yasin, April 13th 2010