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We are All Equally Far from Love
A young woman is instructed by her boss to write a letter to an older man. His reply begins an enigmatic but passionate love affair conducted entirely in letters. Until, that is, his letters stop coming.
But did the letters ever reach their intended recipient? Only the teenage Afaf, who works at the local post office, would know. Her duty is to open the mail and inform her collaborator father of the contents—until she finds a mysterious set of love letters, for which she selects another destiny.
Afaf has lived in shame ever since her mother left her father for another man. And in this novel, her story is followed in turn by another: the story of a woman who leaves her husband for someone else, to whom she declares her love in a letter…
The chain of stories that make up this singular novel form a wrenching examination of relationships and their limits—relationships tenuous, oblique, and momentous. In prose at once fierce and subtle, We Are All Equally Far from Love is a haunting portrait of alienation and desire.
But did the letters ever reach their intended recipient? Only the teenage Afaf, who works at the local post office, would know. Her duty is to open the mail and inform her collaborator father of the contents—until she finds a mysterious set of love letters, for which she selects another destiny.
Afaf has lived in shame ever since her mother left her father for another man. And in this novel, her story is followed in turn by another: the story of a woman who leaves her husband for someone else, to whom she declares her love in a letter…
The chain of stories that make up this singular novel form a wrenching examination of relationships and their limits—relationships tenuous, oblique, and momentous. In prose at once fierce and subtle, We Are All Equally Far from Love is a haunting portrait of alienation and desire.
148 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2004
26 people are currently reading
1753 people want to read
About the author
Adania Shibli
24 books874 followersAdania Shibli (عدنية شبلي) was born in Palestine in 1974. Her first two novels appeared in English with Clockroot Books as Touch (tr. Paula Haydar, 2010) and We Are All Equally Far From Love (tr. Paul Starkey, 2012). She was awarded the Young Writer’s Award by the A. M. Qattan Foundation in 2002 and 2004.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 55 reviews
December 3, 2012
I think whoever wrote the summary for this book only read about a third of the way in. This is not the story of a woman and her letters. This is the story of loneliness.
Anyway, I really wonder what the motivation was for not translating the text of the letters. I feel certain that something was lost in translation here, and that the letters may have related to the narrative
They seemed like a key narrative element. The back cover mentions that the letters have "a new destiny" when the postal worker sees them but essentially, in the English version, they disappear right then, and the narrative changes to a selection of love stories that lack a strong narrative thread. Either there is a narrative disconnect or the content of those letters provides a frame for the following stories.
Anyway, I really wonder what the motivation was for not translating the text of the letters. I feel certain that something was lost in translation here, and that the letters may have related to the narrative
They seemed like a key narrative element. The back cover mentions that the letters have "a new destiny" when the postal worker sees them but essentially, in the English version, they disappear right then, and the narrative changes to a selection of love stories that lack a strong narrative thread. Either there is a narrative disconnect or the content of those letters provides a frame for the following stories.
January 3, 2025
"..𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦."
At first glance, it can be written off as misery porn, but is actually the hellhole one falls into when misery gets the best of our lives and we become incredibly lonely. In rich prose, we are graciously held with a tenderness, a craving, a need to be held with the narrator. The text almost works as a plea for help, a call for touch. And isn't that the loneliest hunger we starve from first the very moment we are born into the world?
Because the translation is rough and some parts were cut due to the author's choice, the structure—of what is a collection of short stories compiled into what should be singular novella—falls flat due to faceless characters without enough meat on their bones to really ground us. This goes for our protagonist as well. Misery cannot flesh out people, it's how they blend it with their past and how they decide to uphold their future that a story becomes rich and complex and moving. But here, all we have is complexity with much ado about nothing.
At first glance, it can be written off as misery porn, but is actually the hellhole one falls into when misery gets the best of our lives and we become incredibly lonely. In rich prose, we are graciously held with a tenderness, a craving, a need to be held with the narrator. The text almost works as a plea for help, a call for touch. And isn't that the loneliest hunger we starve from first the very moment we are born into the world?
Because the translation is rough and some parts were cut due to the author's choice, the structure—of what is a collection of short stories compiled into what should be singular novella—falls flat due to faceless characters without enough meat on their bones to really ground us. This goes for our protagonist as well. Misery cannot flesh out people, it's how they blend it with their past and how they decide to uphold their future that a story becomes rich and complex and moving. But here, all we have is complexity with much ado about nothing.
December 25, 2020
I like reading internationally, try to do it often. This wasn’t my first Palestinian read, the recent Minor Detail was quite good. Also very short, though, no idea if that’s relevant or typical. This book, though, didn’t work for me at all. It looked interesting, it had such a lovely poetic title, but the insides of it were just a jumbled mess.
It is all about love and being far from it, so the title is apt, but it goes about telling the story is a very disorganized way. I do traditionally prefer a more linear approach to fiction, but sometimes nonlinear works very well and this time it didn’t. The plot is barely discernible. At first it seems fairly straight forward, an epistolary love story aborted and a quiet devastation it leaves behind on a young woman who letters go unanswered. But then it just dissolves into a melancholy muddy mess.
Maybe some of it is due to translation. For some reason the author chose not to have the letters that are so seemingly important to this story translated for English audience. Maybe it’s all just down to questionable stylistic choices. The sadness is rendered so prettily, but that alone is pretty sad of an advertisement, isn't it.
The language is lovely and poetic throughout to match the title and maybe taken as a poem it would be something, but it’s simply isn’t enough here and as a work of fiction it just doesn’t cohere the right way. The narration ambles around, destination uncertain. Much like asking GPS for coordinates and getting poetry in return, this gets the readers nowhere.
But it does have the courtesy to read very quickly.
It is all about love and being far from it, so the title is apt, but it goes about telling the story is a very disorganized way. I do traditionally prefer a more linear approach to fiction, but sometimes nonlinear works very well and this time it didn’t. The plot is barely discernible. At first it seems fairly straight forward, an epistolary love story aborted and a quiet devastation it leaves behind on a young woman who letters go unanswered. But then it just dissolves into a melancholy muddy mess.
Maybe some of it is due to translation. For some reason the author chose not to have the letters that are so seemingly important to this story translated for English audience. Maybe it’s all just down to questionable stylistic choices. The sadness is rendered so prettily, but that alone is pretty sad of an advertisement, isn't it.
The language is lovely and poetic throughout to match the title and maybe taken as a poem it would be something, but it’s simply isn’t enough here and as a work of fiction it just doesn’t cohere the right way. The narration ambles around, destination uncertain. Much like asking GPS for coordinates and getting poetry in return, this gets the readers nowhere.
But it does have the courtesy to read very quickly.
Read
May 8, 2018I wasn't sure if it s a collection of short stories or one novel written from different pov's. Also, Iwish I could read it in Arabic because it is so poetic and I have the feeling English translation simplify it. and the author asked to ommit the 6 letters from the translation and I am curious why. The stories are gradually becoming more and more depressing in this book and toward the end I was worried the writer herself is depressed and suicidal.
July 31, 2012
Beautiful. Sad. But mostly beautiful.
After reading the translator's end notes, in which he discusses particular parts Shibli requested he change / leave out, I'd love to read the original Arabic. Gotta study a little harder first.
After reading the translator's end notes, in which he discusses particular parts Shibli requested he change / leave out, I'd love to read the original Arabic. Gotta study a little harder first.
February 25, 2024
3.5 stars, rounded up.
This book was beautifully written, like poetry.
I feel this would be better in the original Arabic writing.
The translator states it is not a perfect translation and not everything was translated, like letters. I’d like to see what they said. Maybe the story would make more sense. The summary also only describes the beginning of the book and not the rest.
I found the book confusing, who was the pov of each section from was unclear at times.
Ultimately it was a beautiful story about loneliness.
This book was beautifully written, like poetry.
I feel this would be better in the original Arabic writing.
The translator states it is not a perfect translation and not everything was translated, like letters. I’d like to see what they said. Maybe the story would make more sense. The summary also only describes the beginning of the book and not the rest.
I found the book confusing, who was the pov of each section from was unclear at times.
Ultimately it was a beautiful story about loneliness.
February 9, 2022
Could have been great but was just a mess.
August 11, 2025
first time i’ve felt like something was lost in the translation, come to find out this was a purposeful choice by the original author. i do enjoy her writing style but it the book itself is so disjointed it’s hard to read peacefully without feeling lost
April 26, 2024
4.25 stars!!! This was such a unique book by Palestinian author Adania Shibli! I got so much out of a first read, I can't wait to reread and understand the meaning even more.
April 23, 2024
Extremely confusing book and pretty bleak.
March 13, 2024
"كأن البداية نهاية، فما أن نبدأ وإلا بنهاية ما تأتي، فجأة، ودون أن نشعر بملمسها، تجتاحنا بطبيعية وبغير اكتراث"
November 2, 2024
Même la nouvelle qui me donnait envie m'a déçu. Recueil tristounet, avec un style malheureusement trop occidental. De quoi décourager tout élan amoureux. Tous à égale distance de l'amour, c'est à dire très éloigné et sans retour possible. Des relations chimériques, pathétiques, banalement ennuyeuses, des amours trahis, déçus.
July 1, 2020
My quest to read a book from every single country in the world is still going, even though my former, highly ambitious deadline - read a book from every single country in the world by the year 2023 - no longer exists because, well, life got crazy. But I still have an interesting mix of literature from different countries on my reading horizons, and I finally picked up my pick for Palestine. Written by Palestinian author Adania Shibli, We Are All Equally Far from Love is not at all what the back cover says. It is not a story about six love letters and a girl working in a post office, but rather a novella of musings on loneliness, relationships, and fitting in in the world.
What I adored the most about We Are All Equally Far from Love was the depth with which it analysed interpersonal relationships and their effect on our psyche and well-being. In one chapter, there is a woman whose ex is threatening to rape her, and she suffers from these threats so much she is described wanting to set her body on fire. She is unable to escape the battlefield - her own body - that her ex has conquered. I had never really considered just how traumatizing it must be when your very being is the thing being threatened, and you have nowhere to run. You can leave a building, but you cannot leave your body, and that becomes painfully clear when your body is the instrument or target of violence and threats. In another chapter, a young woman lives at home with her unkind parents, and is suffering from being ill. The attitudes her family have about her seem almost enough to make her sick, they loathe her and disrespect her so much, and give her little sympathy when she is sick. It is the pain of these kinds of relationships that Shibli writes about so poignantly.
I also really enjoyed the shift between first and third-person narration. The aforementioned chapter about the woman getting rape threats was written in third person PoV, which made the chapter even more powerful: trauma often makes us dissociate and disconnect from ourselves and our experiences, to get some distance from the painful things that are happening to us. That felt very fitting for this chapter in particular. The shifting narrative PoVs also allowed for Shibli to showcase her writing talents from different perspectives, and proved she is not a one-trick pony by any means.
Riveting and emotional, We Are All Equally Far from Love is a candid exploration on the effects of, well, living in a world with other people in it.
What I adored the most about We Are All Equally Far from Love was the depth with which it analysed interpersonal relationships and their effect on our psyche and well-being. In one chapter, there is a woman whose ex is threatening to rape her, and she suffers from these threats so much she is described wanting to set her body on fire. She is unable to escape the battlefield - her own body - that her ex has conquered. I had never really considered just how traumatizing it must be when your very being is the thing being threatened, and you have nowhere to run. You can leave a building, but you cannot leave your body, and that becomes painfully clear when your body is the instrument or target of violence and threats. In another chapter, a young woman lives at home with her unkind parents, and is suffering from being ill. The attitudes her family have about her seem almost enough to make her sick, they loathe her and disrespect her so much, and give her little sympathy when she is sick. It is the pain of these kinds of relationships that Shibli writes about so poignantly.
I also really enjoyed the shift between first and third-person narration. The aforementioned chapter about the woman getting rape threats was written in third person PoV, which made the chapter even more powerful: trauma often makes us dissociate and disconnect from ourselves and our experiences, to get some distance from the painful things that are happening to us. That felt very fitting for this chapter in particular. The shifting narrative PoVs also allowed for Shibli to showcase her writing talents from different perspectives, and proved she is not a one-trick pony by any means.
Riveting and emotional, We Are All Equally Far from Love is a candid exploration on the effects of, well, living in a world with other people in it.
August 20, 2020
In “We Are All Equally Far From Love”, Adania Shibli takes us through the despairs of broken hearts and the emotional (and sometimes physical violence) of separation.
This is not a story about war or genocide against Palestinians. This is not war/trauma porn. Rather, in these interconnected short stories, Shibli walks us on how women in Occupied Palestine try to go on with their normal lives; fall in and out of love, write love letters and dream of a future that does not only include preparing dinner for a husband and a few kids. She gives voice to teenagers who try to rebel within the boundaries of patriarchy, middle-aged women soured by disappointments and young women fighting domestic violence. They are all survivors in their own way.
What I liked most about this book was how it was so beautifully written. Especially how there is a poem stitching all these stories together and giving the reader a preview of what’s to come.
It is a beautiful work of art I cannot recommend enough.
September 9, 2015
I definitely don't think this book is up my alley. I don't know if it's a translation thing, or a cultural thing, but I actually kinda hated this book now that I think more about it. There are "chapters" that describe one miserable persons' experience after another, almost like short stories that are masquerading as one story, but with nothing (but misery) to tie them all together. Characters are nameless, faceless, miserable folk who I don't empathize with at all. Their pain and relationships with others seem very foreign to me, the interaction of how the family hates one another, but still coexists in an abhorrently codependent way. It's a miracle I finished this one.
October 1, 2017
Read this in Arabic and the accumulative structure in which it's organised is genius
August 5, 2018
I can’t say anything about it honestly it’s a holy for me
December 15, 2022
second half picks up real nicely; beautiful translation
August 5, 2025
Brilliant. Stories of love and loneliness, written in detached and simple but v v beautiful prose. I prefer this to Shibli’s other work, Minor Detail. I wonder what the connection between each stor
January 9, 2025
Earlier in 2024 I got Minor Detail, which is Shibli's more known and highly praised work. About a week to the end of the year, I unexpectedly found this one in the bookshop, and it made sense that I read it first, seeing as it was (i believe) the earlier published work.
My first read of the year, highly anticipated, and an utter disappointment. I found the writing under-developed and juvenile. Something of a cross between a high school composition and the worst of Substack. Consider this extract of a slightly longer paragraph:
Really? That's why people sigh?
Another, outrightly obnoxious example:
What purpose does this image serve?
While the stories/plots were slightly better, the thematic ambition was just as laboured.
Loneliness, isolation, dejection, contempt, desire, alienation can all be highly laden, complex and interesting. I assume Shibli chewed absolutely everything for the reader in an effort to clarify, but instead it reduced these themes to surface level feelings that can be named and clarified, all a result of people's individual decisions. The result is boredom.
I talked myself into finishing it, and glad it's over.
My first read of the year, highly anticipated, and an utter disappointment. I found the writing under-developed and juvenile. Something of a cross between a high school composition and the worst of Substack. Consider this extract of a slightly longer paragraph:
This was the first time Afaf had ever sighed properly. She felt a little more mature, and started to reflect on what had happened. Her breath had come out, and she felt that a weight had been lifted from her chest. That is why people sigh, then.
Really? That's why people sigh?
Another, outrightly obnoxious example:
The first drop of tears fell onto the pillow reluctantly, but those that followed fell with extra ordinary ease, settling together in one damp spot, which began by my cheeks and spread out to the sides. At first the damp pillow was a little warm, but after a few moments it turned cold, so I turned my head in the other direction to avoid it. The tears now changed course and started to trickle from the corner of the eyes across the nose, before sloping diagonally along the cheek, falling into the ear and a moment later onto the pillow. I was tired. I felt heavy and irritated by my tears, though they had now begun to flow.
What purpose does this image serve?
While the stories/plots were slightly better, the thematic ambition was just as laboured.
How beautiful for his hand to feel a warm living body answering to the pressure of his fingers. He had lost hope of holding anything except for tin cans and bags of produce. This was a heart, not a hum of a meat freezer. This was hair, not a brush"
Loneliness, isolation, dejection, contempt, desire, alienation can all be highly laden, complex and interesting. I assume Shibli chewed absolutely everything for the reader in an effort to clarify, but instead it reduced these themes to surface level feelings that can be named and clarified, all a result of people's individual decisions. The result is boredom.
I talked myself into finishing it, and glad it's over.
July 19, 2024
In the act of looking for love, we are also repelled from it. Hatred requires the same energy (maybe less) as love does. It is easier because it is big and leaves room for no doubt. But why cannot we say the same for its opposite? Love requires more empathy. I love how much this book touches on empathy. How it shares stories about the human's journey to keeping love at bay. How love is easy. Is far. Is in the bluest of skies.
I loved the sixth measure. It was a perfect representation of a child's empathy towards their parents and their own lives. I relate to it in a spiritual level. I commend the author for writing about the empathy that feels disgusting and weird, the empathy that claws its way out of hatred.
The stories wane at some points, but it is only because love wanes at some point. And is precisely the author's point, I believe. They require your thorough attention because love demands thorough attention. They do not spare any detail because love does not spare any detail and this is precisely why it is so enraging, to stay in love.
My favorite paragraphs:
1. "There are always people, coming and going all the time. They are all talking. Talking, either in a whisper or in loud voices, around me. Despite their differences, they are all similar: ugly and horrible. They come and go all day looking for love. Alone, yes, like me."
2. "I lack the love to become a better person. I lack love. I lack love terribly. Or perhaps I lack the strength to pretend to love, to do that well..."
3. *"Nothing moves me any longer except for that hateful limit-- the inability to endure any more. When no one can stand me any longer and I cannot stand anyone any longer. The limit of hatred."*
I loved the sixth measure. It was a perfect representation of a child's empathy towards their parents and their own lives. I relate to it in a spiritual level. I commend the author for writing about the empathy that feels disgusting and weird, the empathy that claws its way out of hatred.
The stories wane at some points, but it is only because love wanes at some point. And is precisely the author's point, I believe. They require your thorough attention because love demands thorough attention. They do not spare any detail because love does not spare any detail and this is precisely why it is so enraging, to stay in love.
My favorite paragraphs:
1. "There are always people, coming and going all the time. They are all talking. Talking, either in a whisper or in loud voices, around me. Despite their differences, they are all similar: ugly and horrible. They come and go all day looking for love. Alone, yes, like me."
2. "I lack the love to become a better person. I lack love. I lack love terribly. Or perhaps I lack the strength to pretend to love, to do that well..."
3. *"Nothing moves me any longer except for that hateful limit-- the inability to endure any more. When no one can stand me any longer and I cannot stand anyone any longer. The limit of hatred."*
September 17, 2020
As it begins this book comes across as extremely innocent and simple. One lets oneself go along anyway - it's an easy short read, so why not finish it despite its childishness. And then, slowly, the book's great beauty begins to build. The Arabic begins to shine through the translation. The bravery and importance of the issues it raises comes through. The range and universality, while also, often quite humorously, inhabiting its specificity, with very subtle nods to its political positions, makes them shine even more, provoking an impulse to embrace the author and thank her for such purity, such kindness. As the book progresses it begins to suggest an interweaving of the stories that will build toward some climax in which all is revealed. This does not happen. But nor does it have to. The incompleteness of this approach gives way to something much better, to which the incompleteness of the unity of the individual stories contributes. Too much artfulness, too much plot, would have taken away from the poetry. With such a broad range of understanding, Shibli finds both beauty (forgive my repetition - it's true!) and commonality in all manner of loneliness. But the universal case is made up of the individual cases. I wouldn't have wanted an abstract theory of loneliness or pure poetry, either. Shibli finds a balance and invents a half-decoy structure. In this way she communicates a profound empathy that stays with the reader. As important to be read for the general as the specific. An absolute joy. Perceptive, aware and also impossibly light of heart. A gift. Thank you for this.
October 28, 2024
For the first time, I suspect, Shibli tried saying, 'Not everything is about Palestine.' She tried saying, 'There are worse things. For example, we could live a life completely devoid of love. How about that?' It's hard to remember, at this end of my reading her books, that Shibli is first and foremost a novelist, a storyteller, and only then a writer of the Palestinian cause. But this book jerks you into that realization. Of course, I read her backwards. I started with her latest, and then worked my way backwards. Did she then plant a seed of imagination FOR the cause the first time she wrote, and then watched it grow until it resulted in Minor Detail years after? In any case, this book is an exercise of her imagination for things other than the cause, but knowing her... maybe you'll read them into it, too. She writes of love and living without it, hatred and living with it, and silence... the sort of silence that holds a knee against your throat and refuses to allow you to utter a single word. Do you see what I mean? That maybe you can't separate the two?
November 24, 2024
3.68! This was so beautifully written and rendered that I wonder how much more magnificent the original text is. Because of the blurb of the copy I read, I went into this thinking it was a novel and was a bit confused a little while there. I wouldn't say it isn't a novel nor would I say it is a collection of short stories. It exists somewhere in between since the characters are somewhat connected.
Surprisingly, despite it's very melancholic mood - and I mean extremely melancholic - I enjoyed most of the stories and found them intriguing. The unraveling of the plot points slowly and sneakily had me glued to the page and would often gasp when a new perspective would re/dis-entangle the story further. Even after reading, i still feel that there is so much more elucidation to be gained from the story. it would be nice to just have a conversation with the author
Surprisingly, despite it's very melancholic mood - and I mean extremely melancholic - I enjoyed most of the stories and found them intriguing. The unraveling of the plot points slowly and sneakily had me glued to the page and would often gasp when a new perspective would re/dis-entangle the story further. Even after reading, i still feel that there is so much more elucidation to be gained from the story. it would be nice to just have a conversation with the author
July 10, 2023
This is the first novel I read from Palestinian author Adania Shibli. This is the first Palestinian novel I read, which doesn't mention the Israel/Palestine conflict. The book is composed of shorts stories linked to each other, by a theme, a character, or same profile of characters.
All the leading characters are women. The main themes common to all stories are loneliness, solitude, absence of love (from family, a husband, or a men). Readers can relate to some of the characters and/short stories. Even if the stories are well written, they give negative mood/vibes to readers. The novel is depressing to read.
All the leading characters are women. The main themes common to all stories are loneliness, solitude, absence of love (from family, a husband, or a men). Readers can relate to some of the characters and/short stories. Even if the stories are well written, they give negative mood/vibes to readers. The novel is depressing to read.
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December 9, 2023هذه ليست قراءة في العمل ولكن مجرد تنويه او كلمات على الهامش. في المساحة الهائمة بين الفراغ والصفحة المطبوعة. وبنفس الطريقة التي اعتاد ان يلعب بها رولان بارت.
أهم شيء في هذا النص أنه يقرب القارئ من الواقع ويضعه في وسط أحداث يمكن ان يمر بها أي إنسان.
وبخلاف تفصيل ثانوي يأخذ الحوار والتصوير والجمل البسيطة والمتتالية دورها لتجسيد عالمنا كما نراه وكما يجب أن نشعر به.
لذلك انها رواية غير موضوعية وتورط القارئ في قضية يجب أن يعيشها مع الكاتبة وحسب منطقها وطريقة احساسها بالعالم.
أهم شيء في هذا النص أنه يقرب القارئ من الواقع ويضعه في وسط أحداث يمكن ان يمر بها أي إنسان.
وبخلاف تفصيل ثانوي يأخذ الحوار والتصوير والجمل البسيطة والمتتالية دورها لتجسيد عالمنا كما نراه وكما يجب أن نشعر به.
لذلك انها رواية غير موضوعية وتورط القارئ في قضية يجب أن يعيشها مع الكاتبة وحسب منطقها وطريقة احساسها بالعالم.
October 21, 2024
This was a bleak read BUT I do think that’s the point. The loneliness that is conveyed through everyone’s stories is haunting. The authors decision to only name Palestine once set the tone of the novel for me. I do gotta say that I found the stories a bit difficult to keep up with. I didn’t feel particularly invested in many of the characters except for maybe Afaf and her mother and maybe that’s because of my confusion? Worth the read though!
September 14, 2017
it took some time for me to get used to the strange, oblique tone of the multiple narrators. don't be deceive by the seemingly short chapter and length it was a tough read but one that was so rewarding.
also that cover! and i love the Arabic title so much. soft poetry + incisive meaning.
melancholic meditation on alienation and love - in all kind of forms.
also that cover! and i love the Arabic title so much. soft poetry + incisive meaning.
melancholic meditation on alienation and love - in all kind of forms.
November 24, 2023
Quizás 2,5 incluso, pero el último capítulo me ha costado mucho y me ha dejado con un bajón emocional. El libro comienza muy bien, con dos historias relacionadas por unas cartas, pero luego no hay conexión a las dos siguientes, y después solo un detalle sutil entre las siguientes, en las cuales los personajes son cada vez más desgraciados y hay más odio hacia la vida.
August 2, 2024
oh this tale of obsession, desire, alienation, loss, and love is just a MARVELOUS aesthetic experience.
I’m taken aback at shibli’s poised poetics, one that defies simple categorizations of politics or genres like the romance. a gifted young writer! who also has the best lines “He was the journalist, unfortunately”
I’m taken aback at shibli’s poised poetics, one that defies simple categorizations of politics or genres like the romance. a gifted young writer! who also has the best lines “He was the journalist, unfortunately”
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