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Thinner Than Skin
In the wilds of Northern Pakistan, where glaciers are born of mating ice, two young lovers shatter the tenuous peace of a nomadic community
Thinner than Skin is a riveting novel about identity and belonging. It's also a love story: between a young Pakistani man trying to make his way as photographer in America, and the daughter of a Pakistani father and German mother brought up in the US, who wants to return to a country she's never seen. Together they make the trip to Pakistan, where a chance meeting with a young nomad changes their lives, and the lives of those around them, forever. The novel is also a love letter to the wilds of Northern Pakistan, to glaciers, to the old Silk Road, and to the nomadic life of the indigenous people in the Northern territories, where China encroaches and Pakistanis, Uzbeks, Russians, Chinese, and Afghans all come together to trade.
Thinner than Skin is a riveting novel about identity and belonging. It's also a love story: between a young Pakistani man trying to make his way as photographer in America, and the daughter of a Pakistani father and German mother brought up in the US, who wants to return to a country she's never seen. Together they make the trip to Pakistan, where a chance meeting with a young nomad changes their lives, and the lives of those around them, forever. The novel is also a love letter to the wilds of Northern Pakistan, to glaciers, to the old Silk Road, and to the nomadic life of the indigenous people in the Northern territories, where China encroaches and Pakistanis, Uzbeks, Russians, Chinese, and Afghans all come together to trade.
352 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2012
29 people are currently reading
819 people want to read
About the author
Uzma Aslam Khan
12 books143 followersUzma Aslam Khan is the prize-winning author of five novels published worldwide. These include Trespassing, translated in 18 languages and recipient of a Commonwealth Prize nomination; The Geometry of God, a Kirkus Reviews' Best Book of 2009; Thinner Than Skin, nominated for the Man Asian Literary Prize and DSC Prize for South Asian Literature, and winner of the French Embassy Prize for Best Fiction at the Karachi Literature Festival 2014. Her work has twice won a Zoetrope: All Story Short Fiction Prize, and appeared in Granta, The Massachusetts Review, Australian Book Review, Nimrod, AGNI, Calyx, and Guardian UK, among many other periodicals.
Khan’s fifth novel, The Miraculous True History of Nomi Ali, is set in the British penal settlement of the Andaman Islands during the 1930s, through the Japanese occupation during World War II. The book, 27 years in the making, writes into being the stories of those caught in the vortex of history, yet written out of it. The Miraculous True History of Nomi Ali won the Karachi Literature Festival-Getz Pharma Fiction Prize and the UBL Literary Awards English Language Fiction category in Pakistan. In India, it was shortlisted for the TATA Literature Live! Best Book of the Year, Fiction. Released in the US in 2022, The Miraculous True History of Nomi Ali was a New York Times' "Best Historical Fiction 2022" as well as a New York Times' "Books for Summer 2022." In 2023, it won the Massachusetts Book Award in Fiction.
See:
https://www.massbook.org/mass-book-aw...
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/04/bo...
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/05/27/bo...
https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/t...
Khan’s fifth novel, The Miraculous True History of Nomi Ali, is set in the British penal settlement of the Andaman Islands during the 1930s, through the Japanese occupation during World War II. The book, 27 years in the making, writes into being the stories of those caught in the vortex of history, yet written out of it. The Miraculous True History of Nomi Ali won the Karachi Literature Festival-Getz Pharma Fiction Prize and the UBL Literary Awards English Language Fiction category in Pakistan. In India, it was shortlisted for the TATA Literature Live! Best Book of the Year, Fiction. Released in the US in 2022, The Miraculous True History of Nomi Ali was a New York Times' "Best Historical Fiction 2022" as well as a New York Times' "Books for Summer 2022." In 2023, it won the Massachusetts Book Award in Fiction.
See:
https://www.massbook.org/mass-book-aw...
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/12/04/bo...
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/05/27/bo...
https://lareviewofbooks.org/article/t...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews
May 25, 2023
In Pakistan, it was hard to know which tragedy to dwell on most.
This book suffers from the problem of too-much-but-not-enough. Uzma Aslam Khan takes on expats and citizens, city life and country life, fugitives and bombers, policemen and tree-cutters, and mixes them all in with international politics, local politics, relationship politics. And the result is a mess.
That’s not to say that the book is completely, ridiculously bad. A bad book can be entertaining in its own frustrating ways. Badly written characters, thin plotlines or ridiculous dialogue can be the source of much hysterical laughter, shared misery and the chance to give vent to one’s sarcastic side. It can be cathartic, the way picking on a scab can be. This book doesn’t even have the dignity to provide its readers with a good time. Instead, it bores.
The Summary
It’s hard to write a summary for a novel in which you had to struggle to keep your eyes open long enough to turn the page. We have our eternally-whiny, perpetually-confused protagonist Nadir, a Pakistan photographer in America, and his half-Pakistani American girlfriend Farhana who wants to go study glaciers in Northern Pakistan. They are joined by Irfan, Nadir’s childhood best friend and all-purpose trip guide, and Wes, an American tagging along for the glacier study. And along their trip, disaster strikes. More characters join in; there’s a lot of grief and remonstration and thoughts of revenge. I’m sure it’s more poignant and devastating than I’m making it sound, but I couldn’t care less. Not when five pages into the story I was ready to doze off.
Uzma Aslam Khan takes her time with the story, and a long, long time it is. Sure, there are moments of stark, noticeable brilliance. When the novel tackles memory or lost dreams or the strain that plagues Pakistanis and their lives, it sounds familiar and comforting. ‘Yes,’ you say. ‘This is how it is’. Rhetoric and reminiscences work well. Fiction writing, in this case, really doesn’t.
On any given day, the target would be a mosque and a hotel; on another, a bus and a train. The next, Chinese officials in Balochistan and Pakistani generals in Punjab. Soon, it was just about everything except the two everyone resented most, the army on the ground, and the drones in the air, because you can’t kill a drone, it’s a drone. And you can’t kill an army, it’s an army.
The novel follows a quick fast-forward, quick step-back method of storytelling which jerks you back and forth at warp speed. One second we are in Karachi, the other in America, next we are in Kaghan, and then suddenly we are back in Karachi. Or this time in the Northern Mountains, climbing a glacier. Back in America, lost in a desert. Back again to Karachi, with a different conversation, among different people. It’s whip lash, and it’s not fun to read.
The Characters
The story follows multiple protagonists, from Nadir, a Pakistani man trying vainly to earn a living as a photographer in America, to Maryam, a herder’s wife who migrates with her family to the northern plains of Pakistan during the summers, to Ghafoor, a man outcast from his own society who flits between the Chinese, American, Indian, the Uzbeks and Uyghars, the Armenians and Kashmiris to the Gujjars themselves, trying to find a place to fit in. And not a single character manages to make a connection.
He did not know how to explain that it had been a while, a very long while indeed, since he felt he had a country ... He had tried to fight for it, once, this country that had never been his, as though by fighting for it, he might earn it, but this had only resulted in his own people telling him to leave.
It’s sad that the characters are so hit-and-miss, because the setting is a minefield waiting to be excavated. Because the Northern areas of Pakistan, where we spend the majority of the story, are populated by multiple religions, ethnicities, nationalities, cultures. There’s gold to be found in terms of complex, multi-dimensional characters, and while the story tries to tie them all together, ultimately it gets too confused and forgets what point it was trying to make in the first place.
It was after nine o’clock but the market was still crammed and I heard more languages spoken here than at an international airport. I learned that some of the people milling around here had come from as far away as Andijaan and Jashgar, either with bales of cloth, or with no clothes except the ones on their backs.
The Writing
It took two years before the mare forgave her, and by then Kiran had learned that forgiveness was thinner than skin.
The writing was what, ultimately, led to my most dominating thought being an average of fifteen ‘mehs
’ per page. I yawned, I slumped down, I tried to keep the book straight as I struggled to keep reading. I guess the nicest thing I could say about the writing is that it might win awards: it has that kind of pretentious, put-upon writing style that seems to attract fawning critics in droves.
In the days since her return from the lake, it seemed she did not even have enough time to retreat into darkness to grieve. Her sorrow was swiftly turning to fear for her remaining children, her remaining land, and also, for that palpitation in her chest, warning her of her remaining love for Ghafoor.
The book stretches tension into the story, and then it stretches it too thin. All through the narrative there is an idea that things are bad and they’re going to get worse. It induces discomfort, and not that kind where you wait in anticipation for times to get better. It’s the kind of discomfort that bothers because you simply want it to end, more out of boredom than out of any actual distress.
One could argue that the crux of the story is in the anxiety that prevails over everything. Everyone is falling apart, Nadir and Farhana are caught in a nightmare, Maryam weeps over her heartache, corrupt policemen and maulanas and tree fellers grab money and charge exorbitant rates. Yes, yes, and okay, that’s all true. That’s all valid. But where’s my compassion? If you can’t care enough to not fall asleep, then you don’t care enough. And this is where the writing fails.
The Recommendation
The story doesn’t know what it wants to say, the character motivations are hard to understand, the genre is equally harder to pin down (Were there threads of magic realism? Or was that supposed to be allegorical? Or a metaphor? What does the flying owl or dead horse or single feather mean? God knows). Unless you’re particular interested in trying to untangle the ethnicities and nationalities of the inhabitants of Pakistan’s northern areas, I suggest you give this one a miss.
***
I review Pakistani Fiction, and talk about Pakistani fiction, and want to talk to people who like to talk about fiction (Pakistani and otherwise, take your pick.) To read this complete review, read more reviews or just contact me so you can talk about books, check out my Blog or follow me on Twitter!
This book suffers from the problem of too-much-but-not-enough. Uzma Aslam Khan takes on expats and citizens, city life and country life, fugitives and bombers, policemen and tree-cutters, and mixes them all in with international politics, local politics, relationship politics. And the result is a mess.
That’s not to say that the book is completely, ridiculously bad. A bad book can be entertaining in its own frustrating ways. Badly written characters, thin plotlines or ridiculous dialogue can be the source of much hysterical laughter, shared misery and the chance to give vent to one’s sarcastic side. It can be cathartic, the way picking on a scab can be. This book doesn’t even have the dignity to provide its readers with a good time. Instead, it bores.
The Summary
It’s hard to write a summary for a novel in which you had to struggle to keep your eyes open long enough to turn the page. We have our eternally-whiny, perpetually-confused protagonist Nadir, a Pakistan photographer in America, and his half-Pakistani American girlfriend Farhana who wants to go study glaciers in Northern Pakistan. They are joined by Irfan, Nadir’s childhood best friend and all-purpose trip guide, and Wes, an American tagging along for the glacier study. And along their trip, disaster strikes. More characters join in; there’s a lot of grief and remonstration and thoughts of revenge. I’m sure it’s more poignant and devastating than I’m making it sound, but I couldn’t care less. Not when five pages into the story I was ready to doze off.
Uzma Aslam Khan takes her time with the story, and a long, long time it is. Sure, there are moments of stark, noticeable brilliance. When the novel tackles memory or lost dreams or the strain that plagues Pakistanis and their lives, it sounds familiar and comforting. ‘Yes,’ you say. ‘This is how it is’. Rhetoric and reminiscences work well. Fiction writing, in this case, really doesn’t.
On any given day, the target would be a mosque and a hotel; on another, a bus and a train. The next, Chinese officials in Balochistan and Pakistani generals in Punjab. Soon, it was just about everything except the two everyone resented most, the army on the ground, and the drones in the air, because you can’t kill a drone, it’s a drone. And you can’t kill an army, it’s an army.
The novel follows a quick fast-forward, quick step-back method of storytelling which jerks you back and forth at warp speed. One second we are in Karachi, the other in America, next we are in Kaghan, and then suddenly we are back in Karachi. Or this time in the Northern Mountains, climbing a glacier. Back in America, lost in a desert. Back again to Karachi, with a different conversation, among different people. It’s whip lash, and it’s not fun to read.
The Characters
The story follows multiple protagonists, from Nadir, a Pakistani man trying vainly to earn a living as a photographer in America, to Maryam, a herder’s wife who migrates with her family to the northern plains of Pakistan during the summers, to Ghafoor, a man outcast from his own society who flits between the Chinese, American, Indian, the Uzbeks and Uyghars, the Armenians and Kashmiris to the Gujjars themselves, trying to find a place to fit in. And not a single character manages to make a connection.
He did not know how to explain that it had been a while, a very long while indeed, since he felt he had a country ... He had tried to fight for it, once, this country that had never been his, as though by fighting for it, he might earn it, but this had only resulted in his own people telling him to leave.
It’s sad that the characters are so hit-and-miss, because the setting is a minefield waiting to be excavated. Because the Northern areas of Pakistan, where we spend the majority of the story, are populated by multiple religions, ethnicities, nationalities, cultures. There’s gold to be found in terms of complex, multi-dimensional characters, and while the story tries to tie them all together, ultimately it gets too confused and forgets what point it was trying to make in the first place.
It was after nine o’clock but the market was still crammed and I heard more languages spoken here than at an international airport. I learned that some of the people milling around here had come from as far away as Andijaan and Jashgar, either with bales of cloth, or with no clothes except the ones on their backs.
The Writing
It took two years before the mare forgave her, and by then Kiran had learned that forgiveness was thinner than skin.
The writing was what, ultimately, led to my most dominating thought being an average of fifteen ‘mehs
’ per page. I yawned, I slumped down, I tried to keep the book straight as I struggled to keep reading. I guess the nicest thing I could say about the writing is that it might win awards: it has that kind of pretentious, put-upon writing style that seems to attract fawning critics in droves.
In the days since her return from the lake, it seemed she did not even have enough time to retreat into darkness to grieve. Her sorrow was swiftly turning to fear for her remaining children, her remaining land, and also, for that palpitation in her chest, warning her of her remaining love for Ghafoor.
The book stretches tension into the story, and then it stretches it too thin. All through the narrative there is an idea that things are bad and they’re going to get worse. It induces discomfort, and not that kind where you wait in anticipation for times to get better. It’s the kind of discomfort that bothers because you simply want it to end, more out of boredom than out of any actual distress.
One could argue that the crux of the story is in the anxiety that prevails over everything. Everyone is falling apart, Nadir and Farhana are caught in a nightmare, Maryam weeps over her heartache, corrupt policemen and maulanas and tree fellers grab money and charge exorbitant rates. Yes, yes, and okay, that’s all true. That’s all valid. But where’s my compassion? If you can’t care enough to not fall asleep, then you don’t care enough. And this is where the writing fails.
The Recommendation
The story doesn’t know what it wants to say, the character motivations are hard to understand, the genre is equally harder to pin down (Were there threads of magic realism? Or was that supposed to be allegorical? Or a metaphor? What does the flying owl or dead horse or single feather mean? God knows). Unless you’re particular interested in trying to untangle the ethnicities and nationalities of the inhabitants of Pakistan’s northern areas, I suggest you give this one a miss.
***
I review Pakistani Fiction, and talk about Pakistani fiction, and want to talk to people who like to talk about fiction (Pakistani and otherwise, take your pick.) To read this complete review, read more reviews or just contact me so you can talk about books, check out my Blog or follow me on Twitter!
October 29, 2013
There are plenty of ways to get and be lost in this world. Because I have a poor sense of direction, I get lost easily. Because I am drawn to novels by authors from locations and cultures distinct from my own, I often feel lost while I am reading. The impact on me from Uzma Aslam Kahn's fourth novel was a vertigo of feeling lost, afraid, and anxious.
Thinner Than Skin opens with the meditation on her former life by a woman making the yearly journey from the plains to the highlands of summer. Maryam walks along the shore of a lake with her daughter, a mare, a filly, three buffaloes, four goats, and numerous sheep. Two mountain peaks, mist, and a wind that carries a sense of foreboding. Maryam has a vision of a strange man. Where is she? I do not know. Already in the first three pages I am lost as well as filled with Maryam's foreboding.
I read on and meet Nadir and his girlfriend Farhana, sleeping in a cabin in a place called Kaghan. Finally I find out they are in Northern Pakistan, having traveled from San Francisco. Both are of Pakistani descent, their relationship is as rocky as a steep mountainside, and by the end of that chapter I know they are both doomed in some way because of their youth and self-involvement. Despite education and a certain amount of privilege, they are essentially clueless.
I get to the end of the novel. I have been all over a part of the world so foreign to me that even a map showing Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikstan as they relate to Afghanistan and Pakistan makes me feel lost. The distance between Nadir and Maryam, in worldview, in emotional response, in human interaction, is so vast that though they are both Pakistani and human, they may as well be alien species to each other.
After a terrible fatal accident for which Nadir and Farhana are responsible, the forces of tribal custom, terrorism, and nature pursue these two across a glacier, across a culture, to an outcome even more doomed than I had foreseen at the beginning.
Then comes the ending where the author leaves me, lost in Nadir's mind but found in Maryam's. A trip in every sense of the word.
May 4, 2013
Her writing is confident, creative and quite beautiful. She uses seemingly straightforward or plain language but constructs it so that the imagery or the tone is poetic--utterly gorgeous prose. It's masterful and very satisfying. I will definitely read more of the books!
March 12, 2015
Evocative, poetically written, Thinner Than Skin, weaves together questions of identity, the nation-state, globalization, with landscapes, histories, and lingering questions about the current "Great Game" that is played along the borderlines of the ancient Silk Road.
December 24, 2022
There is nothing that Uzma Aslam Khan will write and I won't bow in adoration. You will cry with her characters, places, spaces, geographies and stories and you're gonna be smashed in your face with historical excavations of the subcontinent that you never ever thought of.
Maryam is a gypsy/nomad from the northern areas of Pakistan who loses her seven-year old child Kiran because a diasporic traveler Farhana wanted to take her on a boat ride to inculcate an "experience" in her. Kiran drowns and is buried without any allegations on the adults responsible for this event. Farhana is traveling with her Pakistani boyfriend Nadir who understands how stereotypical her girlfriend's approach to the natives is but feels pressurised to stay silent owing to his love for her.
Farhana is unable to see how toxic her approach to the locals is as she keeps insisting on "helping them" and "doing something for them". Do we really need a presumably white woman's or a foreigner's saving? Don't we need saving from our own evil institutions like the forest department that Maryam's family gives bribes to so they can let their animals graze the land that is actually their own for centuries?
This complex trio of Maryam, Farhana and Nadir offers insights into what it means to be a Pakistani - a poor Pakistani, a nomad Pakistani, a female Pakistani, a diasporic Pakistani, a polytheistic Pakistani. Expressing pain and demanding justice are only sanctioned to a few in this land in certain spaces at particular moments.
Her entire novel is an ode to pain and will stay in my mind through this sole sentence:
"In Pakistan, it was hard to know which tragedy to dwell on most."
Maryam is a gypsy/nomad from the northern areas of Pakistan who loses her seven-year old child Kiran because a diasporic traveler Farhana wanted to take her on a boat ride to inculcate an "experience" in her. Kiran drowns and is buried without any allegations on the adults responsible for this event. Farhana is traveling with her Pakistani boyfriend Nadir who understands how stereotypical her girlfriend's approach to the natives is but feels pressurised to stay silent owing to his love for her.
Farhana is unable to see how toxic her approach to the locals is as she keeps insisting on "helping them" and "doing something for them". Do we really need a presumably white woman's or a foreigner's saving? Don't we need saving from our own evil institutions like the forest department that Maryam's family gives bribes to so they can let their animals graze the land that is actually their own for centuries?
This complex trio of Maryam, Farhana and Nadir offers insights into what it means to be a Pakistani - a poor Pakistani, a nomad Pakistani, a female Pakistani, a diasporic Pakistani, a polytheistic Pakistani. Expressing pain and demanding justice are only sanctioned to a few in this land in certain spaces at particular moments.
Her entire novel is an ode to pain and will stay in my mind through this sole sentence:
"In Pakistan, it was hard to know which tragedy to dwell on most."
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 6, 2013
Whenever I come across an English novel about Pakistan and terrorism, I dread a sensationalist generalisation of Pakistani society for a foreign audience. Although I began Thinner than Skin with the same sense of foreboding, I found myself captivated by the narrative just a few pages into the book.
Far from confirming my misgivings, Thinner than Skin sketches a rich portrait of the indigenous culture of northern Pakistan, and highlights the plight of ordinary people in a society in flux. The lives of three individuals— a photographer, a pagan woman and a nomad — are transformed in the setting of Northwest Pakistan— a region of rugged, untouched natural beauty punctured by the wounds of war and terrorism. The plot is made up of three stories: the story of Nadir, a Pakistani photographer in America who is romantically engaged with a Pakistani-German girl, Farhanna, the story of Maryam and her family from the nomad tribe of Gujjar as they struggle to hold on to their customs in a world that is rapidly changing, and finally the story of Ghafoor, man who chooses the life of a wandering tradesman over that of a nomad.
As Nadir prepares his journey to Pakistan, he is advised to forgo his passion for aesthetics and nature in photography. Instead, he is told: “Show us the dirt. The misery”. Fed with stereotypical images of Pakistan, Nadir is apprehensive but Farhana wistfully longs to “return” to the country of her origin. When the couple finally visits Kaghan valley with their friends, Irfan, a widower, and Wes, an environmentalist who is fascinated by Pakistani glaciers, they encounter Maryam and her family — a meeting that will alter their destinies.
Uzma Aslam’s prose is vivid, bringing to life the sensuous setting of the novel as well as the everyday rituals of village life. Interwoven with folk legends and superstitious beliefs, Thinner than Skin moves between a narration of the present and the past, engaging the reader in the details of the plot and yet maintaining good dose of mystery. Although the plot starts out brilliantly, I was disappointed to note that the story loses its vibrancy as it progresses and concludes rather abruptly.
But these minor drawbacks aside, I found Thinner than Skin to be a compelling narrative and empathic portrait of a beautiful region destroyed by dark forces, and of the joys and tragedies of the individuals inhabiting it.
-- Published in Express Tribune Magazine
http://tribune.com.pk/story/497463/bo...
Far from confirming my misgivings, Thinner than Skin sketches a rich portrait of the indigenous culture of northern Pakistan, and highlights the plight of ordinary people in a society in flux. The lives of three individuals— a photographer, a pagan woman and a nomad — are transformed in the setting of Northwest Pakistan— a region of rugged, untouched natural beauty punctured by the wounds of war and terrorism. The plot is made up of three stories: the story of Nadir, a Pakistani photographer in America who is romantically engaged with a Pakistani-German girl, Farhanna, the story of Maryam and her family from the nomad tribe of Gujjar as they struggle to hold on to their customs in a world that is rapidly changing, and finally the story of Ghafoor, man who chooses the life of a wandering tradesman over that of a nomad.
As Nadir prepares his journey to Pakistan, he is advised to forgo his passion for aesthetics and nature in photography. Instead, he is told: “Show us the dirt. The misery”. Fed with stereotypical images of Pakistan, Nadir is apprehensive but Farhana wistfully longs to “return” to the country of her origin. When the couple finally visits Kaghan valley with their friends, Irfan, a widower, and Wes, an environmentalist who is fascinated by Pakistani glaciers, they encounter Maryam and her family — a meeting that will alter their destinies.
Uzma Aslam’s prose is vivid, bringing to life the sensuous setting of the novel as well as the everyday rituals of village life. Interwoven with folk legends and superstitious beliefs, Thinner than Skin moves between a narration of the present and the past, engaging the reader in the details of the plot and yet maintaining good dose of mystery. Although the plot starts out brilliantly, I was disappointed to note that the story loses its vibrancy as it progresses and concludes rather abruptly.
But these minor drawbacks aside, I found Thinner than Skin to be a compelling narrative and empathic portrait of a beautiful region destroyed by dark forces, and of the joys and tragedies of the individuals inhabiting it.
-- Published in Express Tribune Magazine
http://tribune.com.pk/story/497463/bo...
September 13, 2014
I ached upon finishing this book. The writing is so glittering and tender. The overwhelming effect is of deep heartache and longing. And it builds.
Nadir Sheikh, a landscape photographer who lives in San Franciso, is tired of being told by the west to produce stereotypical images of Pakistan. “He must wow the world not with the assurance of grace. He must wow the world with the assurance of horror.” He returns to his country, to the mountainous north, and now the book really soars. Not only is the landscape described with amazing beauty, but we meet the strongest character in the book, Maryam, who belongs to a nomadic tribe that spends its summers in the grazing grounds around a lake. Nadir, his (annoying) girlfriend Farhana, his friend Irfan, and Farhana’s friend Wes, all cross a glacier to end up in the same place. The plot thickens. There is a terrible tragedy (which haunts me still) soon after which most writers would have ended the book. Not Khan. She wants us to climb back down the mountain with her characters, to confront consequences, and ask difficult questions: What is belonging? Whose land is it? And most of all, who has the right to claim that any one can be “saved”? The tradgedy occurs when Farhana tries to “help” a young girl of the nomadic tribe in a gesture that screams imperialist arrogance. And Khan wants us to see imperialist arrogance in all its colors, and all its tragic outcomes.
The book is divided into five sections and structured like a mountain: you climb, you reach the top, you fall. The top section, part 3, is Ghafoor’s. He is another member of the nomadic tribe, though he has left it to become a suitcase trader in China, Kazakhstan, and Uzbekistan. Khan’s gift for combining stunning yet harsh geographies with harsh lifestyles that demand harsh choices really shine in these sections. By the time you reach the book’s end, you feel you have been floating and falling for a while. The ride is hypnotic. It isn’t emotionally easy, even as the writing pulls you along. And it is worth every minute. A deeply mesmerizing book by a deep and powerful writer.
Nadir Sheikh, a landscape photographer who lives in San Franciso, is tired of being told by the west to produce stereotypical images of Pakistan. “He must wow the world not with the assurance of grace. He must wow the world with the assurance of horror.” He returns to his country, to the mountainous north, and now the book really soars. Not only is the landscape described with amazing beauty, but we meet the strongest character in the book, Maryam, who belongs to a nomadic tribe that spends its summers in the grazing grounds around a lake. Nadir, his (annoying) girlfriend Farhana, his friend Irfan, and Farhana’s friend Wes, all cross a glacier to end up in the same place. The plot thickens. There is a terrible tragedy (which haunts me still) soon after which most writers would have ended the book. Not Khan. She wants us to climb back down the mountain with her characters, to confront consequences, and ask difficult questions: What is belonging? Whose land is it? And most of all, who has the right to claim that any one can be “saved”? The tradgedy occurs when Farhana tries to “help” a young girl of the nomadic tribe in a gesture that screams imperialist arrogance. And Khan wants us to see imperialist arrogance in all its colors, and all its tragic outcomes.
The book is divided into five sections and structured like a mountain: you climb, you reach the top, you fall. The top section, part 3, is Ghafoor’s. He is another member of the nomadic tribe, though he has left it to become a suitcase trader in China, Kazakhstan, and Uzbekistan. Khan’s gift for combining stunning yet harsh geographies with harsh lifestyles that demand harsh choices really shine in these sections. By the time you reach the book’s end, you feel you have been floating and falling for a while. The ride is hypnotic. It isn’t emotionally easy, even as the writing pulls you along. And it is worth every minute. A deeply mesmerizing book by a deep and powerful writer.
October 20, 2013
One of the best books I've read in a long long time.
There is a crystalline sharpness to her prose and an urgency to her story that beguiles and haunts. Her language burns in the same way that snowflakes do, or that honey burns your mouth. There is a deep and familiar ache that spreads across the pages of this book and into its reader.
Expert handling of the myriad politics (class, race, religious, gender, international and personal...) and a stunning display of empathy and compassion for her unbearably human characters that is matched only by the portrayal of a landscape so raw and open it takes one's breath away.
There is a crystalline sharpness to her prose and an urgency to her story that beguiles and haunts. Her language burns in the same way that snowflakes do, or that honey burns your mouth. There is a deep and familiar ache that spreads across the pages of this book and into its reader.
Expert handling of the myriad politics (class, race, religious, gender, international and personal...) and a stunning display of empathy and compassion for her unbearably human characters that is matched only by the portrayal of a landscape so raw and open it takes one's breath away.
January 3, 2013
Layered with prose every bit as lush and verdant as the glacial landscapes it describes, Uzma Aslam Khan’s Thinner Than Skin is a thick, intense and richly rewarding novel set in the precipitous heart of Pakistan’s semi-autonomous Northern Areas.
Ostensibly, it is a love story about a young Pakistani man, now living in the US, and his girlfriend, of German-Pakistani parentage, and their mutual desire to travel ‘home’ to immerse themselves in the breaktaking beauty of the mountains.
It is also – and forgive me for copying from the publishers’ notes here, but there really is no better way of putting it – ‘a love letter to the wilds of northern Pakistan, to glaciers, to the old Silk Road, and to the nomadic life of the indigenous people in the northern territories, where China encroaches and Pakistanis, Uzbeks, Russians, Chinese and Afghans come together to trade.’
In a narrative soaked with the myths and legends of the land, Khan carefully unfurls two strands of her story: a first-person account from Nadir’s perspective as he consumes himself with concerns over his trip and his relationship with Farhana; and a third-person tale revolving around Maryam, a wife and mother in a community of nomadic herders who make seasonal journeys from the lowland pastures to the mountains to graze their livestock.
Tragedy will soon fuse these two strands together, the description of which is as gut-wrenching as they come. Khan’s prose is, in fact, scattered with moments to make you gasp: an illicit tryst above a madresseh, where ‘she pulled him into a room high above the minarets that seemed to point at the fighter jets, cursing them to hell’; an unforgettable account of an ancient ritual involving the mating of two glaciers; or a passage about the tempestuous relationship between two mountains.
To read more of this review, please visit my blog at Eleutherophobia.
Ostensibly, it is a love story about a young Pakistani man, now living in the US, and his girlfriend, of German-Pakistani parentage, and their mutual desire to travel ‘home’ to immerse themselves in the breaktaking beauty of the mountains.
It is also – and forgive me for copying from the publishers’ notes here, but there really is no better way of putting it – ‘a love letter to the wilds of northern Pakistan, to glaciers, to the old Silk Road, and to the nomadic life of the indigenous people in the northern territories, where China encroaches and Pakistanis, Uzbeks, Russians, Chinese and Afghans come together to trade.’
In a narrative soaked with the myths and legends of the land, Khan carefully unfurls two strands of her story: a first-person account from Nadir’s perspective as he consumes himself with concerns over his trip and his relationship with Farhana; and a third-person tale revolving around Maryam, a wife and mother in a community of nomadic herders who make seasonal journeys from the lowland pastures to the mountains to graze their livestock.
Tragedy will soon fuse these two strands together, the description of which is as gut-wrenching as they come. Khan’s prose is, in fact, scattered with moments to make you gasp: an illicit tryst above a madresseh, where ‘she pulled him into a room high above the minarets that seemed to point at the fighter jets, cursing them to hell’; an unforgettable account of an ancient ritual involving the mating of two glaciers; or a passage about the tempestuous relationship between two mountains.
To read more of this review, please visit my blog at Eleutherophobia.
May 27, 2013
Pakistan has always been quite an interesting topic to me. Despite being typecast as the "new wild west", constantly embroiled in turmoil, corruption and strife in the media, one rarely learns about the amazing resilience and beauty of the country. This is an exception to that rule.
Following three completely different personalities: Nadir, a Pakistani photographer, Maryam a Gurjar, and Ghafoor a nomadic merchant.
The writing style in this novel is vivid and descriptive, constantly engaging yet encouraging a what happens next appeal. I was discouraged to discover it ended too quickly and abruptly for my tastes and I do look forward to reading more of Uzma Aslam Khan's work.
Following three completely different personalities: Nadir, a Pakistani photographer, Maryam a Gurjar, and Ghafoor a nomadic merchant.
The writing style in this novel is vivid and descriptive, constantly engaging yet encouraging a what happens next appeal. I was discouraged to discover it ended too quickly and abruptly for my tastes and I do look forward to reading more of Uzma Aslam Khan's work.
July 26, 2015
After the success of The Geometry of God and Trespassing, I expected Uzma Aslam Khan to build further on her reputation as one of the eminent novelists chronicling the lives of contemporary Pakistanis but this novel has come as a disappointment.
It started well enough, with two lead characters, Nadir and Farhana - the former a Pakistani in the United States struggling to build a life of promise in a country his parents had sent him to study; and the latter, a mix-raced Pakistani-German who wants to discover the Pakistani side of her identity by 'returning' to Pakistan which is now gripped in turmoil. Through their uneasy love we see the uneasy love Pakistanis carry for their homeland, which they have many reasons to despair for and leave behind. And the promise of the new lands of the West, which, despite it glitter and glory, cannot fully satisfy the needs of those who have shunned their homelands.
Parallel to it runs the story of Maryam and her family who are herders for generations. Through them the author has painted a grim picture of the situation the locals of the mountainous north of Pakistan have found themselves in. Hemmed in by all sides in a conflict that spills across borders - trouble in Xinjiang, violence in Central Asian states, perennial instability in Afghanistan, oppression in Kashmir - all this spills into the once peaceful mountainous regions of Pakistan where the state and its rebels fight out each other at the cost of the local people.
The fates of Nadir and Farhana get entwined with that of Maryam and her family when an accident happens during their visit of discovery to the Northern Areas. They are sucked into a conflict which is as much personal as it is public and political.
Our story stalls after the accident, the manner in which the author shows both parties dealing with the accident is...very lacking. There are lots of monologues the characters address to themselves, that do little but confuse the reader.
Maryam's story and the characters that populate her world, in my view, do not talk and behave as northern mountain people do. An air mystery surrounds Maryam's family which is not dealt with cleverly. She is also depicted as following some strange pagan cult, even though they are clearly shown to be Muslims, albeit holding on to some ancient mountain rituals for which they get plenty of scorn from Muslims who purport to follow a more 'purist' form of Islam. Bluntly put, the writing on Maryam's family is not intelligent - it has little to hold your attention; it is more like a long and repetitive ramble.
The last part of the novel did not satisfy me. The thread of the plot is lost after the accident takes place. From that point on the story only drags and ends abruptly and nonsensically in yet another accident.
I vacillated between giving it two stars and three stars. If I had given it two stars, this would have been quite harsh of me; if I had awarded it three, this would have meant I liked it more than I had. So I settle for 50/50; I rate this novel as halfway between acceptance - a 2.5 stars out of 5.
It started well enough, with two lead characters, Nadir and Farhana - the former a Pakistani in the United States struggling to build a life of promise in a country his parents had sent him to study; and the latter, a mix-raced Pakistani-German who wants to discover the Pakistani side of her identity by 'returning' to Pakistan which is now gripped in turmoil. Through their uneasy love we see the uneasy love Pakistanis carry for their homeland, which they have many reasons to despair for and leave behind. And the promise of the new lands of the West, which, despite it glitter and glory, cannot fully satisfy the needs of those who have shunned their homelands.
Parallel to it runs the story of Maryam and her family who are herders for generations. Through them the author has painted a grim picture of the situation the locals of the mountainous north of Pakistan have found themselves in. Hemmed in by all sides in a conflict that spills across borders - trouble in Xinjiang, violence in Central Asian states, perennial instability in Afghanistan, oppression in Kashmir - all this spills into the once peaceful mountainous regions of Pakistan where the state and its rebels fight out each other at the cost of the local people.
The fates of Nadir and Farhana get entwined with that of Maryam and her family when an accident happens during their visit of discovery to the Northern Areas. They are sucked into a conflict which is as much personal as it is public and political.
Our story stalls after the accident, the manner in which the author shows both parties dealing with the accident is...very lacking. There are lots of monologues the characters address to themselves, that do little but confuse the reader.
Maryam's story and the characters that populate her world, in my view, do not talk and behave as northern mountain people do. An air mystery surrounds Maryam's family which is not dealt with cleverly. She is also depicted as following some strange pagan cult, even though they are clearly shown to be Muslims, albeit holding on to some ancient mountain rituals for which they get plenty of scorn from Muslims who purport to follow a more 'purist' form of Islam. Bluntly put, the writing on Maryam's family is not intelligent - it has little to hold your attention; it is more like a long and repetitive ramble.
The last part of the novel did not satisfy me. The thread of the plot is lost after the accident takes place. From that point on the story only drags and ends abruptly and nonsensically in yet another accident.
I vacillated between giving it two stars and three stars. If I had given it two stars, this would have been quite harsh of me; if I had awarded it three, this would have meant I liked it more than I had. So I settle for 50/50; I rate this novel as halfway between acceptance - a 2.5 stars out of 5.
May 24, 2018
Uzma Aslam Khan, in her fourth novel Thinner Than Skin, takes us through a journey: of not just geographical in nature but of love gained and lost, lives, relationships and bonds, of promises kept and of betrayal.
The story revolves around Nadir and Farhana who return to their homeland with their own interests and goals in mind. Throughout the story, the different external and internal forces at play make their return not what they expected and certainly not what they had come for.
Not going through much of a story detail, I was blown away by the use of almost poetic language entwined in a prose. The imagery and personification of everything around the characters and the environment made them all very real and somehow larger than life. As a reader I could feel myself as a silent observer of the stories unravelling before me - I was not just reading them but I WAS them and I WAS there. The author cleverly plays with the mind of the reader giving them the feel of emotions not just about the particular situation being read but of what might come next...as if the external forces at play in the story was somehow effecting the reader too. This kind of feeling is not accomplished by all authors.
There are many surprises and relatable events for us to read which gives the story more meaning, besides the fact that the background used of conflicts and peace provide more structure and validity to the whole novel.
I would highly recommend this to everyone interested in political and historical fiction as well as to people who are generally interested in knowing a bit more about Pakistan. Beautiful!!
The story revolves around Nadir and Farhana who return to their homeland with their own interests and goals in mind. Throughout the story, the different external and internal forces at play make their return not what they expected and certainly not what they had come for.
Not going through much of a story detail, I was blown away by the use of almost poetic language entwined in a prose. The imagery and personification of everything around the characters and the environment made them all very real and somehow larger than life. As a reader I could feel myself as a silent observer of the stories unravelling before me - I was not just reading them but I WAS them and I WAS there. The author cleverly plays with the mind of the reader giving them the feel of emotions not just about the particular situation being read but of what might come next...as if the external forces at play in the story was somehow effecting the reader too. This kind of feeling is not accomplished by all authors.
There are many surprises and relatable events for us to read which gives the story more meaning, besides the fact that the background used of conflicts and peace provide more structure and validity to the whole novel.
I would highly recommend this to everyone interested in political and historical fiction as well as to people who are generally interested in knowing a bit more about Pakistan. Beautiful!!
December 14, 2012
So I've been reading a lot of international stuff lately like Amy Tan and Paolo Coehlo... trying to diversiffy my library (thanks Goodreads!), but I haven't always liked what I've read. Then I came across this book and it's awesome. It's a love story, sort of, and a tragedy, and it takes place partly in San Francisco and mostly in Pakistan (which sounds like a pretty wild place but not "wild" in the way I would expect). The writing is beautiful, it's pretty dense at times but it keeps the story moving along and there's about five different threads going on at once. I love books that do that and then bring everything together at the end, which this does. Definitely worth checking out IMO.
EDIT: Just read here that the book's been nominated fror a prize I never heard of. Great! It's a good read all right, it deserves to win and get some recognition.
EDIT: Just read here that the book's been nominated fror a prize I never heard of. Great! It's a good read all right, it deserves to win and get some recognition.
October 17, 2019
Thinner than skin, a book follow people... Nadir; photographer who tried to make livelihood through photography.
Maryam (migrate in northern Pakistan) Ghafoor (waif off from his own people) Irfan (nadir’s friend) Rehanna (nadir’s girlfriend, a paki-Us citizen)
Let’s talk about good things first; Author put a touchy topic in paperback, which literally very sensitive and need to be heard. The people and different cultures in northern sides are too complex to understand, so it was a beauty to learn and to experience that such a variety can be witnessed in short time.
Now the start;
When the story starts, I was invested into it... maybe for 40-50 pages. The point of nadir upper level person keep bragging about real pictures of Pakistan and people on streets and the dirt, was so awful to read but the same time natural. So it made me excited to go for more.
But as I keep reading there’s time came when I find myself yawning and left with nothing but boredom and a quick hint of done with this book.
Reasons of me not liking this:
1. The writing style; it’s so boring and enough to make you go for slumber... long paragraphs and weird characterization of words, literally.
2. Characters; God I hate Nadir and Rehana the most, why every girl need to be portrait as a specie came from other planet? I mean what the nonsense was even going on with every character? There’s no common ground or reason with all people and it was like Author try to drag it or to convey something, maybe trying to get complex, but she utterly failed.
3. Too much going on; It was a story, so it needs to be in sequence, instead Author put every single thing she knew or had knowledge about cultures and religion and diversity. The thoughts and emotions and pain what not she put in it? I mean yes there’s bad which lead to the hope of getting a Better future but this much? I doubt.
And I think that’s enough for me to say this book disappoints me in many ways, I assume something brilliant and vibrant over this topic but Nahh. Nothing inspires me till end and it left nothing but a burden to get done with.
Thank you.
Maryam (migrate in northern Pakistan) Ghafoor (waif off from his own people) Irfan (nadir’s friend) Rehanna (nadir’s girlfriend, a paki-Us citizen)
Let’s talk about good things first; Author put a touchy topic in paperback, which literally very sensitive and need to be heard. The people and different cultures in northern sides are too complex to understand, so it was a beauty to learn and to experience that such a variety can be witnessed in short time.
Now the start;
When the story starts, I was invested into it... maybe for 40-50 pages. The point of nadir upper level person keep bragging about real pictures of Pakistan and people on streets and the dirt, was so awful to read but the same time natural. So it made me excited to go for more.
But as I keep reading there’s time came when I find myself yawning and left with nothing but boredom and a quick hint of done with this book.
Reasons of me not liking this:
1. The writing style; it’s so boring and enough to make you go for slumber... long paragraphs and weird characterization of words, literally.
2. Characters; God I hate Nadir and Rehana the most, why every girl need to be portrait as a specie came from other planet? I mean what the nonsense was even going on with every character? There’s no common ground or reason with all people and it was like Author try to drag it or to convey something, maybe trying to get complex, but she utterly failed.
3. Too much going on; It was a story, so it needs to be in sequence, instead Author put every single thing she knew or had knowledge about cultures and religion and diversity. The thoughts and emotions and pain what not she put in it? I mean yes there’s bad which lead to the hope of getting a Better future but this much? I doubt.
And I think that’s enough for me to say this book disappoints me in many ways, I assume something brilliant and vibrant over this topic but Nahh. Nothing inspires me till end and it left nothing but a burden to get done with.
Thank you.
April 20, 2013
This is a really moving book. The sections in Central Asia were especially eye-opening. When Ghafoor, a nomadic tribesman from northern Pakistan who becomes a trader, accepts a box from a Chinese Uyghur (I had never even heard of Uyghurs, a Muslim Chinese minority) with hands with 'leather palms' and with fingers missing, it is because the gesture reminds him of a time when his best friend passed to him a butterfly in the same way. This is one of my favorite moments in the book, because it is a small gesture with awful consequences. It is that kind of book. But I'm getting a little ahead here.
The mountains of northern Pakistan and the steppes of Central Asia are stunningly described, as are the hardships faced by people from there. For instance, Maryam, from the same community as Ghafoor, braves the changes affecting her ancient nomadic lifestyle, changes that involve racist persecution at the hands of authorities, plus a personal tragedy involving the death of a child. Ghafoor, who through his travels has come into contact with hardened Central Asian 'traders' from China, Uzbekistan, Kyrgystan, and Afghanistan -- each with his own grievance against his own government -- sets out to avenge the death of the child, and in so doing, convinces himself that he is also avenging all the wrongs committed against his community. But of course it's not the guilty who are made to pay. Thinner than Skin is on many levels about race, about how marginalized groups will always find ways to fight back, but with lose-lose consequences for all. It's a rich story, so beautifully written you almost don't see all the troubling layers underneath.
The mountains of northern Pakistan and the steppes of Central Asia are stunningly described, as are the hardships faced by people from there. For instance, Maryam, from the same community as Ghafoor, braves the changes affecting her ancient nomadic lifestyle, changes that involve racist persecution at the hands of authorities, plus a personal tragedy involving the death of a child. Ghafoor, who through his travels has come into contact with hardened Central Asian 'traders' from China, Uzbekistan, Kyrgystan, and Afghanistan -- each with his own grievance against his own government -- sets out to avenge the death of the child, and in so doing, convinces himself that he is also avenging all the wrongs committed against his community. But of course it's not the guilty who are made to pay. Thinner than Skin is on many levels about race, about how marginalized groups will always find ways to fight back, but with lose-lose consequences for all. It's a rich story, so beautifully written you almost don't see all the troubling layers underneath.
August 6, 2014
Was really glad to see this author nominated for the Man Asian Literary Prize last week. Have been a fan since reading her two previous books. Thinner than Skin is every bit as beautiful and bold. I have only just finished it but here are my thoughts.
Set primarily in two valleys of northern Pakistan, the writing is lush and dreamlike, with sections shared between three characters -- Nadir, a photographer, and Maryam and Ghafoor, two very different but intimately connected members of a semi-nomadic tribe of Kaghan Valley. There is a horribly tragic scene about 70 pages in that made my stomach ache for hours. After that, the book reveals, in thick detail, Nadir's attempts at accepting his hand in the tragedy, while others must figure out how to forgive -- or not. It is suspenseful, lyrical, and humane. I agree that it reads like a tribute to the land and an unacknowledged way of life, and might just be this author's best.
Set primarily in two valleys of northern Pakistan, the writing is lush and dreamlike, with sections shared between three characters -- Nadir, a photographer, and Maryam and Ghafoor, two very different but intimately connected members of a semi-nomadic tribe of Kaghan Valley. There is a horribly tragic scene about 70 pages in that made my stomach ache for hours. After that, the book reveals, in thick detail, Nadir's attempts at accepting his hand in the tragedy, while others must figure out how to forgive -- or not. It is suspenseful, lyrical, and humane. I agree that it reads like a tribute to the land and an unacknowledged way of life, and might just be this author's best.
January 6, 2018
I came across this book in a school south-asian writers reading lecture. I remembered that the author was the most intelligent speaker in the panel, which was the major reason I purchased the book at that time. Began to read the novel last September during my daily commune, caught by the author's very direct and poetic way of describing landscape and love. Always bringing me into a clear, pure space separated from the messy, crowded train. The part about northwestern China is well done, sounds very real to me. But have to read again to understand the relationships between characters.
February 22, 2016
Definitely my favorite non-satire book by a Pakistani author so far. Cannot form words for a review at the moment but there will be one...eventually.
December 1, 2013
Exceptional
March 29, 2014
Had high hopes, but characters, story did not grab my interest.
May 16, 2018
I gave up before 50 pages. I didn’t know what it was about? No ideas were clear.
October 8, 2018
Transportive. This is the second book I've read by Uzma Aslam Khan, and I would compare her sensibility to that of Irish writers, like Colum McCann. It has a similar poetry and heartbreak.
dnf
November 5, 2022DNF@72
I tried. I really tried. Twice. It didn't work.
I tried. I really tried. Twice. It didn't work.
March 26, 2021
Strolling through my local bookstore in Karachi, I came across a copy of Thinner Than Skin and I just knew I had to buy it because I was actively searching for books that would remind me of home when I am away. So naturally, I could not wait to get into this book and I actually find myself enjoying stories about Kashmir and absolutely loved "The Far Field" by Madhuri Vijay which was written from an Indian perspective. This time around I really wanted to read about it from a Pakistani perspective and I truly enjoyed the contrast between the two perspectives. The story lines are completely different and focus on very differing topics with Thinner Than Skin going more in depth about Kashmiri folklore and the vast stories behind the beautiful lakes and mountains in Kashmir.
The story follows four people, Nadir, Farhana, Irfan and Wes who have made their way to Kashmir. Every character has an interesting backstory which makes their trip even more special and also really damn infuriating. Khan has a melodic and exhaustive way of writing, her words pull you so deep into the story that you will find yourself recalling very vivid details without ever having visited a place. There was so much to uncover about all the different characters, I felt an attachment to all the characters and that is exactly why I have given this book two stars. It's solely for how much potential the characters had and the grace with which this story could have moved forward... COULD HAVE.
Towards the end, it stopped making sense to me! A lot of what happened in the last couple pages caught me off-guard in the worst of ways. Never would have I ever expected the ending that this book has and I also don't understand why?! It felt forced to create that twist between Irfan and Farhana and for me, it really destroyed this image of Irfan that was being created throughout the whole book. Maybe its something that people would appreciate but I couldn't bring myself to make any sense of it.
I did however fell deeply in love with Maryam's story and cared for her. Through Maryam, I was able to learn so much about the importance of faith, of holding on to things that matter, of family and of privilege - the awareness of which Farhana lacked so damn much!
The story follows four people, Nadir, Farhana, Irfan and Wes who have made their way to Kashmir. Every character has an interesting backstory which makes their trip even more special and also really damn infuriating. Khan has a melodic and exhaustive way of writing, her words pull you so deep into the story that you will find yourself recalling very vivid details without ever having visited a place. There was so much to uncover about all the different characters, I felt an attachment to all the characters and that is exactly why I have given this book two stars. It's solely for how much potential the characters had and the grace with which this story could have moved forward... COULD HAVE.
Towards the end, it stopped making sense to me! A lot of what happened in the last couple pages caught me off-guard in the worst of ways. Never would have I ever expected the ending that this book has and I also don't understand why?! It felt forced to create that twist between Irfan and Farhana and for me, it really destroyed this image of Irfan that was being created throughout the whole book. Maybe its something that people would appreciate but I couldn't bring myself to make any sense of it.
I did however fell deeply in love with Maryam's story and cared for her. Through Maryam, I was able to learn so much about the importance of faith, of holding on to things that matter, of family and of privilege - the awareness of which Farhana lacked so damn much!
June 16, 2022
This book was really strange. It had me in the first half, confused me for the third quarter, and totally lost me at the end. The decisions made by characters become more and more nonsensical, to the point where I was waiting for the book to end with the line "and then he woke up". Nothing was resolved well, and it felt as though the author was trying to hide behind her endless odes to the mountains to compensate for the sheer fuckery that is going on here. She doesn't know what this is either, but wants to fool you otherwise.
What I liked:
- The reverence with which the mountains were described. There was real passion in the page each time a peak or natural landscape was mentioned.
- Maryam as a character. She was very under-utilised in the book despite her being the most intriguing.
- The boat scene. Exceptional, tense, so much opportunity to expand.
What I disliked:
- The bum ass narrator. His dad is right, he truly is a whiny, pathetic little loser. Spent the entire book complaining and whining. No problem solving skills either. How does he have a girlfriend?
- Farhana. No thought was put into her character. There is zero explanation for why she behaves as she does, and this is passed off as some quirky trait rather than poor the character development it is.
- The ending. Genuinely wtf? Things that no one at all saw coming. Like truly just random, out of the blue ends to several storylines that do not serve any purpose besides confusion.
What I liked:
- The reverence with which the mountains were described. There was real passion in the page each time a peak or natural landscape was mentioned.
- Maryam as a character. She was very under-utilised in the book despite her being the most intriguing.
- The boat scene. Exceptional, tense, so much opportunity to expand.
What I disliked:
- The bum ass narrator. His dad is right, he truly is a whiny, pathetic little loser. Spent the entire book complaining and whining. No problem solving skills either. How does he have a girlfriend?
- Farhana. No thought was put into her character. There is zero explanation for why she behaves as she does, and this is passed off as some quirky trait rather than poor the character development it is.
- The ending. Genuinely wtf? Things that no one at all saw coming. Like truly just random, out of the blue ends to several storylines that do not serve any purpose besides confusion.
November 7, 2025
A book about which, at first, I didn’t want to talk: thinner than the skin.
Based on the mountains of our North, this isn’t the tale of a single thing.
It takes you from nomads of north, to the immigrants in west. From the raw life of a villager to the fast moving of one in a metropolitan city. From some relations stronger than any thing to that of betrayal in the worst from. It talks of geo-politics, religion, emotions, everything. But a theme that’s constant is the humanness of the humans! The melancholy that surrounds them. I don’t know how much of all that has been talked in it is true, but one may relate to quite many bits of it. Some of my favs have been listed in the slider here.
Also, I could imagine this whole story as it was happening in front of me because I had been to some of the places in real, or may be through the lens of travelogues by Mustansar Husain Tarar. So the heaviness of this story might be from that part!
My only complaint about this book is the unnecessary indulgence of adult themes. They seemed quite forced as the story is better in itself in the subtle sense it carries. I would suggest to completely ignore them if one reads the book.
Overall I wouldn’t suggest reading it if one wants to relax. You can read it if you’re into works that leave your heart with traces of melancholy that you can’t return from.
Will I read it again? No. But do I regret reading it? Still a no.
Overall a 4 out of 5 read!
Based on the mountains of our North, this isn’t the tale of a single thing.
It takes you from nomads of north, to the immigrants in west. From the raw life of a villager to the fast moving of one in a metropolitan city. From some relations stronger than any thing to that of betrayal in the worst from. It talks of geo-politics, religion, emotions, everything. But a theme that’s constant is the humanness of the humans! The melancholy that surrounds them. I don’t know how much of all that has been talked in it is true, but one may relate to quite many bits of it. Some of my favs have been listed in the slider here.
Also, I could imagine this whole story as it was happening in front of me because I had been to some of the places in real, or may be through the lens of travelogues by Mustansar Husain Tarar. So the heaviness of this story might be from that part!
My only complaint about this book is the unnecessary indulgence of adult themes. They seemed quite forced as the story is better in itself in the subtle sense it carries. I would suggest to completely ignore them if one reads the book.
Overall I wouldn’t suggest reading it if one wants to relax. You can read it if you’re into works that leave your heart with traces of melancholy that you can’t return from.
Will I read it again? No. But do I regret reading it? Still a no.
Overall a 4 out of 5 read!
Read
March 10, 2022My longest ever desire was fulfilled when I found this book in Liberty books, technically this was my first fiction by a Pakistani writer. I think its safe to say, I absolutely loved the premise of this book. The writing style was somewhat new to me, it was hard to me to catch up with what was happening and some descriptions were given later in the book than required but I liked the challenge to decipher what was written in the book. The more I read Uzma Aslam's way of writing the more it made sense to me.
now onto the story, The story is all about symbolism, with subtle hints of societal issues to women's rights. I may not have understood Farhana's character traits but I did see the way people treated her or how Pakistan has some societal pressures and expectations from women that may have been harder for foreigners to understand.
If you're into a slow-burn but symbolically rich books, Thinner than skin is for you.
now onto the story, The story is all about symbolism, with subtle hints of societal issues to women's rights. I may not have understood Farhana's character traits but I did see the way people treated her or how Pakistan has some societal pressures and expectations from women that may have been harder for foreigners to understand.
If you're into a slow-burn but symbolically rich books, Thinner than skin is for you.
July 20, 2024
Rich mythologies and folk stories of northern Pakistan, especially around Naran, Kaghan, and its glaciers. Themes of guilt, loss, thrill, tragedy, travel, displacement, and love, there is so much to take from this book. The book also explores political themes, but if politics isn’t your thing, you can easily skim those parts. That’s the beauty of this book—it dares to tackle bold subjects. It also delves into the history and lifestyle of nomadic tribes in northern Pakistan and touches on the lives of Uzbeks, Kazakhs, and Uyghurs, which has sparked further curiosity in me to read more it.
I have never felt a book as deeply as this one. I highly recommend reading it on your summer trip to the northern areas.
The last chapter takes you on an unforgettable roller coaster ride. The novel ends with a sense of ambiguity, leaving the future of the characters up to the reader's imagination, a powerful move by the author to keep this book in the reader's heart.
I have never felt a book as deeply as this one. I highly recommend reading it on your summer trip to the northern areas.
The last chapter takes you on an unforgettable roller coaster ride. The novel ends with a sense of ambiguity, leaving the future of the characters up to the reader's imagination, a powerful move by the author to keep this book in the reader's heart.
September 22, 2025
I picked up this book, ‘Thinner Than Skin’, on the recommendation of the Instagram account “eeshabaigreads”. The book is about friends, Nadir, Farhana, and Wes, who set out to study glaciers and explore Himalayan region in Northern Pakistan. The story took an ugly turn when a terrorist in disguise penetrated their group. To be honest, the story doesn’t have many twists and turns and is a little weak in the plot. However, the narration of the author, Uzma Aslam Khan, about the beauty of the region is breathtaking. All I could remember from the book is the way she described the region and the people visiting it from different, nearby, parts of the world for their trading. The story did not hold my attention for a long and I was drifting away from it. I haven’t enjoyed the book much. I give it ⭐⭐⭐
October 6, 2022
A compelling novel, that left me dazed after reading. As a British Pakistani, I found that the themes of diaspora and cultural identity resonated with me. I enjoyed the exploration of different 'types' of Pakistanis and the implicit question of what defines a Pakistani.
The description of natural imagery, in particular the personnifcation of mountains, were quite beautiful.
Spoilers:
I think it was a riveting choice to make the character Farhana so unlikeable in the eyes of Nadir, who is supposedly in love with her. Interesting that the descriptions of her in his persepctive were hardly favourable.
Maryam's daughter's death mid-novel was a great choice. I think the exploration of her death after it had occurred was fiercely written, poignant and haunting.
The description of natural imagery, in particular the personnifcation of mountains, were quite beautiful.
Spoilers:
I think it was a riveting choice to make the character Farhana so unlikeable in the eyes of Nadir, who is supposedly in love with her. Interesting that the descriptions of her in his persepctive were hardly favourable.
Maryam's daughter's death mid-novel was a great choice. I think the exploration of her death after it had occurred was fiercely written, poignant and haunting.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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