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A Tender Struggle: Story of a Marriage
“A story about love, marriage, compromise, parenthood and the difference between the life one imagined and reality.”* Fifteen years ago, Krista Bremer, a California-bred feminist, surfer, and aspiring journalist, met Ismail Suayah, sincere, passionate, kind, yet from a very different world. One of eight siblings born in an impoverished fishing village in Libya, Ismail was raised a Muslim-and his faith informed his life. When Krista and Ismail made the decision to become a family, she embarked on a journey she never could have imagined, an accidental a quest for spiritual and intellectual growth that would open her mind and, more important, her heart. “A bold piece of writing (and thinking) by an incredibly brave woman.” -Elizabeth Gilbert, author of The Signature of All Things “A moving, lyrical memoir.”-Kirkus Reviews “Candid and rich.” -Good Housekeeping “Unrelenting candor and gorgeous prose.” -BookPage “Krista Bremer has a very good story.” -The New York Times Book Review “A beautiful account of [Krista’s] jihad, or struggle, to find peace within herself and within her marriage.” -The Kansas City Star “Lucid, heartfelt, and profoundly humane . . . Navigates the boundaries of religion and politics to arrive at the universal experience of love.” -G. Willow Wilson, author of Alif the Unseen “This is a memoir worth reading.” -*Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
304 pages, Paperback
First published March 1, 2014
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About the author
Krista Bremer
3 books29 followersKrista Bremer is an American author and the associate publisher of The Sun magazine. She is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize, a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writer’s Award, and a North Carolina Arts Council fellowship. Her essays have appeared in O: The Oprah Magazine, More, The Sun, and elsewhere. She’s been featured on NPR and in the PBS series Arab American Stories.
She lives in North Carolina with her husband Ismail and their two children
She lives in North Carolina with her husband Ismail and their two children
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 308 reviews
May 16, 2014
Lovely prose, but not a likeable book. The story of their relationship doesn't build or develop, and the author is so consumingly self-absorbed that we never really understand the love between her and her husband - we never see or feel anything in the book outside HER HER HER. She is admirably frank about her own selfishness, but never engages with it or exhibits any sort of growth process, which is off-putting in a memoir that spans 15 years or so. The beauty of her language would mean more if it were matched to substance.
July 21, 2014
It's challenging to write a memoir of your marriage while still married to your husband, ostensibly happily, and wanting to keep it that way.
In this memoir, Krista describes her transition from all-American young woman to wife and mother, married to a Muslim man, and even visiting his relatives in Libya at one point for the culture shock of her life. Krista is a decent writer who is thoughtful and introspective in my view, though others called her whiny and self-centered. My issue with this book wasn't so much the alleged narcissism (memoirs are inherently narcissistic, aren't they?), especially since Krista in fact had an interesting story to tell as the American wife of a Muslim man, making all sorts of cultural adjustments. My issue was more that I never really got a feel for her husband, Ismail.
My sense was that Krista didn't want to embarrass or criticize Ismail in the memoir, which is understandable I suppose. But the result of that is that we never really get to know him, and a lot of his behavior and various incidents are confusing. We learn through the backdoor that Krista and Ismail go to couples therapy, which I guess was predictable given the culture clash, but I never really got a full sense of the particular issues that would drive them to seek help.
I was also super confused during the visit to Libya. Feeling smothered by Ismail's vast extended family, Krista asks if they can stay in a hotel. This request would be highly offensive to Ismail's family, a fact Ismail had to have known. And yet, he makes this request of his family and knowingly offends them in order to stick up for Krista. But wait a second. Did Krista and Ismail not discuss sleeping arrangements before the trip? And wouldn't it have come out at some point during these discussions that requesting to stay in a hotel would not be well received? It just didn't make sense. But what was even crazier was when Ismail's relatives asked him how Krista liked their country, and Ismail horrified all of them by stating frankly that she hated it. Did he not know that this would offend them, and not be a revelation Krista wanted to share? Was he that socially clueless? Krista also later reported that she learned to lie to Ismail and to pretend she liked Libya more than she did. So with the Libya trip, lots of inconsistencies and holes that didn't hang together.
I get why Krista would want to leave certain details out to protect Ismail's privacy, which may explain some of the confusing moments and inconsistencies as well as the reader's having trouble getting a feel for his personality. That being said, if the whole point of the book was to share her experience of marrying a Muslim as a culture clash and struggle toward mutual accommodation, I would have gotten that far more had she offered more detail and been clearer about things that were going on.
On the other hand, I give Krista credit for some honest introspection re. aspects of the culture clash between them which were expressed more openly in the book. I also admire Krista's commitment to working on her marriage with this guy, which by her own admission was no easy task, even if we hear that in an offhand way more than we actually see it.
So, three stars. Definitely readable, lots of interesting moments. While the book had the potential to be more enlightening and stimulating than it was, it was a decent read with some food for thought.
In this memoir, Krista describes her transition from all-American young woman to wife and mother, married to a Muslim man, and even visiting his relatives in Libya at one point for the culture shock of her life. Krista is a decent writer who is thoughtful and introspective in my view, though others called her whiny and self-centered. My issue with this book wasn't so much the alleged narcissism (memoirs are inherently narcissistic, aren't they?), especially since Krista in fact had an interesting story to tell as the American wife of a Muslim man, making all sorts of cultural adjustments. My issue was more that I never really got a feel for her husband, Ismail.
My sense was that Krista didn't want to embarrass or criticize Ismail in the memoir, which is understandable I suppose. But the result of that is that we never really get to know him, and a lot of his behavior and various incidents are confusing. We learn through the backdoor that Krista and Ismail go to couples therapy, which I guess was predictable given the culture clash, but I never really got a full sense of the particular issues that would drive them to seek help.
I was also super confused during the visit to Libya. Feeling smothered by Ismail's vast extended family, Krista asks if they can stay in a hotel. This request would be highly offensive to Ismail's family, a fact Ismail had to have known. And yet, he makes this request of his family and knowingly offends them in order to stick up for Krista. But wait a second. Did Krista and Ismail not discuss sleeping arrangements before the trip? And wouldn't it have come out at some point during these discussions that requesting to stay in a hotel would not be well received? It just didn't make sense. But what was even crazier was when Ismail's relatives asked him how Krista liked their country, and Ismail horrified all of them by stating frankly that she hated it. Did he not know that this would offend them, and not be a revelation Krista wanted to share? Was he that socially clueless? Krista also later reported that she learned to lie to Ismail and to pretend she liked Libya more than she did. So with the Libya trip, lots of inconsistencies and holes that didn't hang together.
I get why Krista would want to leave certain details out to protect Ismail's privacy, which may explain some of the confusing moments and inconsistencies as well as the reader's having trouble getting a feel for his personality. That being said, if the whole point of the book was to share her experience of marrying a Muslim as a culture clash and struggle toward mutual accommodation, I would have gotten that far more had she offered more detail and been clearer about things that were going on.
On the other hand, I give Krista credit for some honest introspection re. aspects of the culture clash between them which were expressed more openly in the book. I also admire Krista's commitment to working on her marriage with this guy, which by her own admission was no easy task, even if we hear that in an offhand way more than we actually see it.
So, three stars. Definitely readable, lots of interesting moments. While the book had the potential to be more enlightening and stimulating than it was, it was a decent read with some food for thought.
August 6, 2016
This book really resonated with me and I believe this is a book that needed to be written. As a self-proclaimed feminist woman who is "partnered" with an Arab, Muslim man it is good to see a story that is about two everyday people living their lives who just happen to be of different cultures.
There have been some commentary in previous reviews who question the book's authenticity of an Muslim man who is truly this "good" and because of that there need to be more stories of people in relationships with Arab and/or Muslim men that highlight the good. Stories of woe and strife, while real and relevant, overshadow the lives of those who do not fit the stereotypical overbearing Muslim man who is set out to control the females in his life.
Even if Ismail is not perfect as highlighted in the book, the fact remains that his imperfections he might have are not necessarily because of being Muslim but because he is a human.
At the end of the day, all long-term relationships have struggles. No matter if you are from the same culture or if your upbringing is wildly different. But often times through the struggles of understanding you find a gift that could have otherwise gone unseen.
There have been some commentary in previous reviews who question the book's authenticity of an Muslim man who is truly this "good" and because of that there need to be more stories of people in relationships with Arab and/or Muslim men that highlight the good. Stories of woe and strife, while real and relevant, overshadow the lives of those who do not fit the stereotypical overbearing Muslim man who is set out to control the females in his life.
Even if Ismail is not perfect as highlighted in the book, the fact remains that his imperfections he might have are not necessarily because of being Muslim but because he is a human.
At the end of the day, all long-term relationships have struggles. No matter if you are from the same culture or if your upbringing is wildly different. But often times through the struggles of understanding you find a gift that could have otherwise gone unseen.
April 21, 2014
It is difficult to assess a book of this nature as it involves various issues like culture and belief with which one may not be familiar with. But this book is honest, and Krista Bremer has with all sincerity chosen to discuss her life and relationship as she embarked on a journey of unexpected struggle to open her heart and grow beyond herself, and explore a world which lies beyond her comfort zone.
Krista Bremer is an American author and the associate publisher of The Sun magazine. She is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize, a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writer’s Award, and a North Carolina Arts Council fellowship. In short, Bremer is no ordinary American. My Accidental Jihad by Krista Bremer is her love story of being married to Ismail, a Muslim who was born in Libya. It is beautiful written, and the story is much more than a cross-cultural marriage. In she writes of her teething troubles, hopes, joy and how her marriage has changed her world perspective.
My Accidental Jihad by Krista Bremer is an eye-opening memoir that is insightful and informative. Bremer sensitively handles the cross-cultural issues, and paints a portrait that will open the eyes of many to the world around us.
Krista Bremer is an American author and the associate publisher of The Sun magazine. She is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize, a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writer’s Award, and a North Carolina Arts Council fellowship. In short, Bremer is no ordinary American. My Accidental Jihad by Krista Bremer is her love story of being married to Ismail, a Muslim who was born in Libya. It is beautiful written, and the story is much more than a cross-cultural marriage. In she writes of her teething troubles, hopes, joy and how her marriage has changed her world perspective.
My Accidental Jihad by Krista Bremer is an eye-opening memoir that is insightful and informative. Bremer sensitively handles the cross-cultural issues, and paints a portrait that will open the eyes of many to the world around us.
June 25, 2014
Once upon a time, a California surfer girl moved to North Carolina to get a graduate degree in journalism and ended up falling in love with Ismail, a Libyan immigrant 15 years her senior. Soon, discovering to her surprise that she was pregnant, she married him. Bremer wisely reflects on the compromises and misunderstandings involved in any marriage – exacerbated, in their case, by the relationship being both intercultural and interfaith. (For me, certainly, marrying an Englishman has had its trials, but at least we share a religion, a native language, and most cultural referents.)
She illustrates the challenges particularly well with the annual face-off between Ramadan and Christmas: with self-denial and asceticism on the one hand, and consumerist indulgence on the other. However, their ideological battles were usually fought over their children, Aliya and Khalil – for example, deciding whether to circumcise their son, and agreeing to let their daughter cover her head with a scarf.
Another highlight of the memoir is the author’s 2005 trip to Libya, when she was three months’ pregnant with her second child. The country was still under Gaddafi’s rule, and Bremer struggled to adjust, even temporarily, to life lived in a dictatorial regime and to traditional domestic roles for women. She did finally, however, start to understand her husband’s devotion to bartering when she watched him in action at a market stall. Here it seemed appropriate, whereas when he’d haggled over the price of her engagement ring back in North Carolina, she’d been mortified (but it worked!). It was one more example of “the lifelong challenge of our marriage: we assumed we saw the same thing when we observed the world, but our interpretation of what we were looking at would never be the same.”
The title is, of course, deliberately provocative, but it’s important to point out (as the author does indeed explain) that jihad (literally, “struggle” or “striving”) is primarily meant in an inward sense: this is not about outward violence, but about the inner battle to do right and obey God. And indeed, over the course of her relationship with Ismail, Bremer starts to appreciate the blessing of submission and the calm of praying multiple times a day. She doesn’t necessarily convert to Islam, but she becomes a lot more receptive to it – much more accepting of its values and rhythms in her daily life. Employing the lyrical language of faith and food, she describes how her attitude towards duty started to change:
One of the book’s most beautiful moments comes when, eight years on, Krista and Ismail finally host a proper wedding. When Krista found out she was pregnant, they’d gone to a courthouse and exchanged Muslim vows in front of friends, but now they wanted to celebrate their marriage with their community. A musical friend went to great lengths to transport his piano to the field where they were having the ceremony. “Our union felt as incongruous and unexpected as the shimmering black piano resting briefly in the shade of the tree—and it, too, required arduous work for fleeting moments of beauty and communion.”
Like the road of faith, marriage is a difficult journey. “Nothing about my life resembled the future I had once imagined—and for years I had grappled with resentment or regret because this path had never been easy.” Yet Bremer adorns the journey with beauty and grace. I look forward to what else she will write.
She illustrates the challenges particularly well with the annual face-off between Ramadan and Christmas: with self-denial and asceticism on the one hand, and consumerist indulgence on the other. However, their ideological battles were usually fought over their children, Aliya and Khalil – for example, deciding whether to circumcise their son, and agreeing to let their daughter cover her head with a scarf.
Another highlight of the memoir is the author’s 2005 trip to Libya, when she was three months’ pregnant with her second child. The country was still under Gaddafi’s rule, and Bremer struggled to adjust, even temporarily, to life lived in a dictatorial regime and to traditional domestic roles for women. She did finally, however, start to understand her husband’s devotion to bartering when she watched him in action at a market stall. Here it seemed appropriate, whereas when he’d haggled over the price of her engagement ring back in North Carolina, she’d been mortified (but it worked!). It was one more example of “the lifelong challenge of our marriage: we assumed we saw the same thing when we observed the world, but our interpretation of what we were looking at would never be the same.”
The title is, of course, deliberately provocative, but it’s important to point out (as the author does indeed explain) that jihad (literally, “struggle” or “striving”) is primarily meant in an inward sense: this is not about outward violence, but about the inner battle to do right and obey God. And indeed, over the course of her relationship with Ismail, Bremer starts to appreciate the blessing of submission and the calm of praying multiple times a day. She doesn’t necessarily convert to Islam, but she becomes a lot more receptive to it – much more accepting of its values and rhythms in her daily life. Employing the lyrical language of faith and food, she describes how her attitude towards duty started to change:
“I woke early in the morning, rose like a zombie from bed, summoned by the call to prayer of two lords: coffee and the Internet...I wanted to stop mincing time like an onion into tiny, symmetrical units; I wanted the hours to ooze and puddle like syrup, sweet and slow. I wanted my to-do list to evaporate like steam from a kettle.”
One of the book’s most beautiful moments comes when, eight years on, Krista and Ismail finally host a proper wedding. When Krista found out she was pregnant, they’d gone to a courthouse and exchanged Muslim vows in front of friends, but now they wanted to celebrate their marriage with their community. A musical friend went to great lengths to transport his piano to the field where they were having the ceremony. “Our union felt as incongruous and unexpected as the shimmering black piano resting briefly in the shade of the tree—and it, too, required arduous work for fleeting moments of beauty and communion.”
Like the road of faith, marriage is a difficult journey. “Nothing about my life resembled the future I had once imagined—and for years I had grappled with resentment or regret because this path had never been easy.” Yet Bremer adorns the journey with beauty and grace. I look forward to what else she will write.
January 21, 2014
This is not a typical memoir of a young American woman and her "Jihad" ~ person struggles. She was not born into poverty, she did not have to contend with and overcome physical or emotional infirmities. Rather, this is the straight forward telling of a young woman's journey from a typical young woman doing the things she loves as she grows into a beautifully mindful, loving, and open human being. Much of her growth seems to have been triggered by her love for her Muslim husband from Libya, but the actual transformations - which she recognizes as on-going - is only facilitated by his gentle living of his own values as he allows her to live and share her own values. It is easy to see how the relationship could at times be discordant, but the love they share, and their open-mindedness and open-heartedness which seem to have always been a part of each of them, stimulate personal and spiritual growth in each of them.
This is a very well written memoir, a very interesting and eye opening peek into a culture I know so little about. Thank you to the author and the publisher for allowing me read this advance copy!
This is a very well written memoir, a very interesting and eye opening peek into a culture I know so little about. Thank you to the author and the publisher for allowing me read this advance copy!
June 11, 2014
Good lord this woman's writing is boring, mediocre. To boot, the story was whiny and pointless. No wonder why she writes for O Magazine-it fits right into the majority of articles I have seen in there. I think had I had seen her bio prior to reviewing...I would have passed.
March 6, 2014
It must be difficult to write about sharing a life with a person from another faith without seeming insensitive. Bremer, an American, is married to Ismail, a Muslim who was born in Libya. She writes movingly about her difficulties understanding some of their cultural and religious differences. I teared up unexpectedly as she wrestled with Libyan expectations for pregnant and nursing mothers (quoting Gaddafi of all people) versus American expectations which, frankly, can wear a woman out. The end, which shows how her daughter is getting older and coming into her own identity, will stay with me for a while. My two complaints about the book are that the beginning was a bit slow and that she makes herself out to be the difficult one and her husband to be more calm and saintly (which was a problem I also noted in Saffron Cross by J. Dana Trent). Like I said, I know it must be hard to write with sensitivity about relationships that cross these cultural and religious lines, but I wished for a little bit more balance. I would probably have given it three stars except I liked the ending so much.
August 31, 2015
I had a difficult time viewing this book as a "love story."
Krista, in my opinion appeared to miss the life she had
prior to meeting her husband. Whenever she referred to her
life as a wife, it was with complaint and overall negativity.
I gave two stars because I liked her writing style but not the
story for the most part.
Krista, in my opinion appeared to miss the life she had
prior to meeting her husband. Whenever she referred to her
life as a wife, it was with complaint and overall negativity.
I gave two stars because I liked her writing style but not the
story for the most part.
May 26, 2014
I didn't expect to be so entranced by this book. Her prose is romantic, touching and soulful, but brutally honest. I loved that about this book. Her frustrations at falling in love and marrying an older man from Libya was not what she had planned for herself. Dealing with the realities of two vastly different cultures and trying to understand the Muslim faith (from an arms length) takes up most of this book. She is unapologetic about her American egoism and grandiosity, compared to her husbands humbler beginnings but over time, with the help of their two children, she comes to understand herself and her husband in a whole new light.
Her first trip to her husbands homeland, three months pregnant with a five year old in tow, during Muammar Gaddafi's reign of terror is beyond brave or wise, but agonizing. I felt like I was in her skin. Her struggle to overlook the degradation and despair of a country held hostage by Gaddafi, while at the same time honoring her husbands family, among the oppression of it's women. Not an easy task, and she emerges untouched. She experiences her own jihad.
This gave me a practical birds eye view of what it is to be an average Muslim, but not what we learn from the media or the religious right. What it means to blend two different cultures in one family. This was a lovely book from beginning to end, and one I found hard to put down.
Her first trip to her husbands homeland, three months pregnant with a five year old in tow, during Muammar Gaddafi's reign of terror is beyond brave or wise, but agonizing. I felt like I was in her skin. Her struggle to overlook the degradation and despair of a country held hostage by Gaddafi, while at the same time honoring her husbands family, among the oppression of it's women. Not an easy task, and she emerges untouched. She experiences her own jihad.
This gave me a practical birds eye view of what it is to be an average Muslim, but not what we learn from the media or the religious right. What it means to blend two different cultures in one family. This was a lovely book from beginning to end, and one I found hard to put down.
February 25, 2014
I was so so So excited to read this book because I loved the author's article in Sun Magazine years ago also named My Accidental Jihad. If you have read that, then you know how wonderfully sublime her writing can be. This book pales in comparison to the article. It is an interesting memoir, and she is by all accounts an excellent writer, but I think her strength as a writer lies in exploring the depth of a moment, or series of connected moments. Her writing seems a little watered down because of the large timespan she covers in the book. I wish Goodreads had a half a star, because 3.5 stars is a more accurate reflection of how I feel.
July 16, 2024
This isn't a very long read, but it begins a conversation of what it's like to live in a mixed-ethnicity and mixed-culture marriage. For me, this displacement was my reality growing up (with parents who spoke different languages and who came from different continents: Japan and Africa), and is also my reality in that I married someone of a different ethnicity and culture to my own. So the "insights" that Bremer discovers about living in two worlds are less insightful to me than they may be to someone who has only ever considered or experienced living in a single homogenous culture and world.
Her experience reflects so clearly the perplexity of having to realize that a liberal middle-class white American worldview may not be preferable nor the mainstream view in the rest of the world. This coming-of-age to cultural awareness is fascinatingly laid out from her perspective.
The writing is clear and poignant and memorable. She is honest with feelings of inadequacy and stubbornness. What's missing is a feeling of balance. Since the story is told solely from her point of view, the characters (who are still alive) are rendered in an almost idealized manner (ie. aside from being a little embarrassing sometimes bc his behavior is "unAmerican," her husband appears perfect, and her children appear to be ideal in every way).
This said, this book offers a deeply spiritual contemplation of what it means to believe what we do. Why do Westerners celebrate Christmas? What does it mean to them? How does that compare to Ramadan for Muslims? It is only near the end that she introduces the notion that she is actually Buddhist with a dabbling of Islam (despite having spent most of the book contemplating her Christian upbringing and celebration of Christmas). The fact that she compares Christmas to Ramadan (ie. to show how one holiday compares to another) is a little startling to me bc they aren't comparable religious experiences. It's almost like saying baklava (a rich dessert) is superior to a peanut butter sandwich (a snack); the two aren't on even footing in comparison. That aside, Bremer's contemplations about how to explain to her husband the significance of Christmas brings up an interesting spiritual quest that she appears to be on.
The book does seem I start off well as a memoir and a narrative, and then breaks off into random various ideas about life and marriage after the midway point.
Overall, it's worth reading.
Her experience reflects so clearly the perplexity of having to realize that a liberal middle-class white American worldview may not be preferable nor the mainstream view in the rest of the world. This coming-of-age to cultural awareness is fascinatingly laid out from her perspective.
The writing is clear and poignant and memorable. She is honest with feelings of inadequacy and stubbornness. What's missing is a feeling of balance. Since the story is told solely from her point of view, the characters (who are still alive) are rendered in an almost idealized manner (ie. aside from being a little embarrassing sometimes bc his behavior is "unAmerican," her husband appears perfect, and her children appear to be ideal in every way).
This said, this book offers a deeply spiritual contemplation of what it means to believe what we do. Why do Westerners celebrate Christmas? What does it mean to them? How does that compare to Ramadan for Muslims? It is only near the end that she introduces the notion that she is actually Buddhist with a dabbling of Islam (despite having spent most of the book contemplating her Christian upbringing and celebration of Christmas). The fact that she compares Christmas to Ramadan (ie. to show how one holiday compares to another) is a little startling to me bc they aren't comparable religious experiences. It's almost like saying baklava (a rich dessert) is superior to a peanut butter sandwich (a snack); the two aren't on even footing in comparison. That aside, Bremer's contemplations about how to explain to her husband the significance of Christmas brings up an interesting spiritual quest that she appears to be on.
The book does seem I start off well as a memoir and a narrative, and then breaks off into random various ideas about life and marriage after the midway point.
Overall, it's worth reading.
May 17, 2014
I applaud any author’s courage to reveal herself, warts & all, making herself vulnerable to readers of every ilk. One of my favorite genres is the faith memoir, regardless of the faith. This was one of the most difficult and confusing I’ve read. I believe that every path can lead to unity and relationship with God for those who desire it strongly enough to study and practice the wise teachings of that path. Bremer seems to discount the other paths that she has not attempted to walk and professes to know nothing about. While apparently having a fair amount of exposure to Christianity, when her husband asks her what does Christmas mean, what does Easter mean, she has no idea. The western world she lives in seems to be very different from the western world in which I live. I understand there are many people for whom God is obtaining wealth, materialism and physical beautify (as in a perfect though anorexic body). Not everyone in the western world, probably not the majority, share these values – not in my world anyway. She characterizes western culture as one of ambition, desire, and self-determination – her husband’s Muslin North African one as one of modesty, humility, and surrender to God. There are many dear people in my world, perhaps 100% of my fb friends & 100% of the people in my church, who meet the latter description. Bremer writes well and offers a look into the poverty of her husband’s family and growing up years in a way that touched me profusely. Her husband’s brother tells her, “You must understand, Krista, this country has been run by a psychotic leader for so long that all Libyans suffer from mental illness … comes from having to tell so many lies to ourselves and others just to survive another day … even the smallest criticism of the regime led to disappearances, prolonged incarceration without legal representation, or torture. An enormous amount of pretending was required to try to lead a normal life.” I am gratified that we in the U.S. have created a place for Muslim immigrants seeking a more peaceful way of life and for our churches that stand next to them during episodes of threats and ethnic/religious profiling – and for those Muslims who’ve stood with Christians under threat in other parts of the world.Bremer is overly selective in her generalizations.
July 9, 2014
Krista Bremer's lyrical and touching memoir of her conversion to Islam was easy to read, but left me somewhat confused. The reviews and promotional materials for the book suggest that the "jihad" would be about prejudice and intolerance that she experienced as a member of an interracial (interethnic?) family, especially after 9/11. But the book, when it does examine these themes, tends to only interrogate Bremer's own prejudices and intolerances, and how she overcame - or, rather, surrendered - to them. I found this to be a gentle love story, featuring a somewhat aimless white twenty-something woman and a very kind and intentional forty-something Libyan man. The couple encounters their fair share of ups and downs, of course, but they stumble through together. Bremer is a talented writer - her recounting of their trip to pre-revolutionary Libya to meet his extended family and visit his childhood home is particularly well-done - and she clearly undertook the project of this book with care and delight.
As the years pass, and without any prompting or proselytizing from her husband, Bremer finds herself increasingly drawn to Islam. Her journey into the faith is thoughtful and provides a beautiful meditation on how Islam can gently lead believers to become more tolerant, more understanding, and more introspective.
This is a book that is really needed in this day and age, with so many Americans misinformed about and full of hate for a religion that has sustained billions. Recommended for anyone interested in relationships, Libyan culture, and - of course! Islam. Especially recommended to anyone who only sees Islam as a religion to fear and despise. I would give this 4 stars for quality and substance but then I demoted it to three stars because it seemed to me that the publishers wanted to promote this book as something that it is not - as if they were afraid to promote a pro-Muslim work in a non-confrontational way. Boo to the publisher but yaay for Krista Bremer.
As the years pass, and without any prompting or proselytizing from her husband, Bremer finds herself increasingly drawn to Islam. Her journey into the faith is thoughtful and provides a beautiful meditation on how Islam can gently lead believers to become more tolerant, more understanding, and more introspective.
This is a book that is really needed in this day and age, with so many Americans misinformed about and full of hate for a religion that has sustained billions. Recommended for anyone interested in relationships, Libyan culture, and - of course! Islam. Especially recommended to anyone who only sees Islam as a religion to fear and despise. I would give this 4 stars for quality and substance but then I demoted it to three stars because it seemed to me that the publishers wanted to promote this book as something that it is not - as if they were afraid to promote a pro-Muslim work in a non-confrontational way. Boo to the publisher but yaay for Krista Bremer.
May 22, 2014
When I came across a review of this book in a magazine I thought someone had written a book about my life: I too am an American woman married to an Arab man. While not everything paralleled my life, I could so relate to many of the subjects written about in this life. This book is a touching love story, an observation of a bi-cultural marriage and a spiritual memoir. It is one of the most interesting and best written memoirs I have read.
I lived among Arabs in Israel for 20 years. Krista understands and can present the culture,good and bad,well. She doesn't immediately embrace the culture but learns to appreciate it and find her place in it. Most times her reaction to a cultural issue, like her daughter deciding to wear hijab, is typically American: fear mixed with a smug confidence in the Western superiority. But then she looks at the issue again and finds her way to understanding. Her daughter chooses hijab because she has the complete freedom to make decisions for herself.
The depiction of her marriage shows why can be easy to fall in love with an Arab man and how he might drive you crazy! She doesn't preach or give advice on how to make a bi-cultural marriage work, but through her experience you can see the obstacles that one would be faced with as well as the things that might surprise you. At the end, I teared up at the love I saw.
What I did not expect was a spiritual memoir, but that is indeed a large aspect of this book. Krista shows a fair and correct picture of Islam: that it is not a maniacal crazy religion. That there is much in common with Christianity and Judaism. I liked how Ismail never pushed Islam on Krista but was a solid pillar of example through his quiet faith.
I would highly recommend this book to anyone who is interested in other cultures or just looking for a spiritual journey memoir.
I lived among Arabs in Israel for 20 years. Krista understands and can present the culture,good and bad,well. She doesn't immediately embrace the culture but learns to appreciate it and find her place in it. Most times her reaction to a cultural issue, like her daughter deciding to wear hijab, is typically American: fear mixed with a smug confidence in the Western superiority. But then she looks at the issue again and finds her way to understanding. Her daughter chooses hijab because she has the complete freedom to make decisions for herself.
The depiction of her marriage shows why can be easy to fall in love with an Arab man and how he might drive you crazy! She doesn't preach or give advice on how to make a bi-cultural marriage work, but through her experience you can see the obstacles that one would be faced with as well as the things that might surprise you. At the end, I teared up at the love I saw.
What I did not expect was a spiritual memoir, but that is indeed a large aspect of this book. Krista shows a fair and correct picture of Islam: that it is not a maniacal crazy religion. That there is much in common with Christianity and Judaism. I liked how Ismail never pushed Islam on Krista but was a solid pillar of example through his quiet faith.
I would highly recommend this book to anyone who is interested in other cultures or just looking for a spiritual journey memoir.
November 10, 2015
I chose to read this book because I knew that the author would write about the cultural differences between herself, an American woman, and her husband, a Muslim man born and raised in Libya. This book covers all of that in detail and while an interesting, quick and easy read (was able to finish it in just over a day), was extremely disappointing for me. The author is incredibly self-absorbed, very "me, me, me", and it made me wonder why she would even date a Muslim man in the first place if she was going to be so critical of and shut-off from accepting and learning about his cultural and religious upbringings, as well as get mad at him when he wasn't completely in-tune with the way that Americans do things (Christmas, for example). I expected her to be more accepting of the cultural differences, and instead she complained and bitched throughout the whole reflection of their marriage and it was very cringe-worthy at times. I'm glad that she eventually opens up a lot more, because during most of the book when she was being honest about her feelings, it made me wonder how she truly loved her husband. Her frustrations with not only him in many different ways (his participation in Ramadan, their entire trip to Libya and her feelings about his family, etc.), but her very own daughter (her feelings of resentment when her daughter wants to wear a hijab in public), was painful.
I give this book 2 stars. While I appreciate the harsh truth and all of her feelings that Bremer wrote about, as well as all of the cultural differences which was interesting to read, I don't think that I will ever read this book again. For me, this is due to the fact that I really don't care to read a middle-aged white American woman complaining about the fact she can't have a "real coffee" or go out for a run in workout clothes while visiting with her husband's family in Libya.
I give this book 2 stars. While I appreciate the harsh truth and all of her feelings that Bremer wrote about, as well as all of the cultural differences which was interesting to read, I don't think that I will ever read this book again. For me, this is due to the fact that I really don't care to read a middle-aged white American woman complaining about the fact she can't have a "real coffee" or go out for a run in workout clothes while visiting with her husband's family in Libya.
July 18, 2014
A quick read written in a solid journalistic style that doesn't devolve into pop-journalism, this is indeed a love story in a way that goes beyond romance. In fact, I wouldn't call it romantic! But this book is a study in love and loving, the cultures that differentiate men and women, nation and other nations, religion, spirituality, and parenthood--also, the things that bring us together once we are made aware of them.
If I fault her a bit, it is for stereotyping suburban middle-class white Americans--though doing so helps a great deal in getting her narrative across. She's clearly sensitive to the balancing act of writing a book about intimacy and family, including children, while maintaining some privacy for herself and endeavoring to be honest without offending people who are still very much alive and in her life. Not an easy task!
One of the strongest feelings I took away from this book is that sense of being other/not-quite-other; the person with a foot in more than one tribe, the sense of being outside & the awareness that some of us make that difficult choice (to be an outsider) and others have it made for us.
Interestingly, Bremer spends very little time on her family-of-origin's responses to her marriage (to a man who is from Libya, 15 years her senior, and a Muslim). Maybe that would be a second book.
Quite a good story, and valuable for people who could use a change of perspective.
If I fault her a bit, it is for stereotyping suburban middle-class white Americans--though doing so helps a great deal in getting her narrative across. She's clearly sensitive to the balancing act of writing a book about intimacy and family, including children, while maintaining some privacy for herself and endeavoring to be honest without offending people who are still very much alive and in her life. Not an easy task!
One of the strongest feelings I took away from this book is that sense of being other/not-quite-other; the person with a foot in more than one tribe, the sense of being outside & the awareness that some of us make that difficult choice (to be an outsider) and others have it made for us.
Interestingly, Bremer spends very little time on her family-of-origin's responses to her marriage (to a man who is from Libya, 15 years her senior, and a Muslim). Maybe that would be a second book.
Quite a good story, and valuable for people who could use a change of perspective.
June 19, 2014
The type of book that can open one's mind to cultures that are different from one's own. An All-American girl meets a man from Libya, and little by little she enters his world, his culture, his religion. Very interesting story.
October 28, 2021
Deep, raw, believable.
September 20, 2023
I am so glad that I read this memoir. I like to explore the reviews before I read a book looking for a reason not to read it. There were a few reviewers with the opinion that the author was either selfish or ambivalent towards her mother-in-law. I totally disagree with their assertions, I never came to that conclusion, in fact it was the opposite. Sometimes it works to ignore the reviews. I love to read about cultural differences and I thoroughly enjoyed the book.
October 4, 2018
This memoir is the story of an American journalist (a self-proclaimed feminist) who falls in love and marries a Muslim immigrant from Libya. I found My Accidental Jihad to be soulful and honest, a compelling read. Bremer takes the reader along as she visits her Middle Eastern in-laws for the first time, an eye-opening holiday during the reign of Gaddafi. The real story, above and beyond how two people from different cultures create a life together, is the author’s internal struggle to discover herself. Her journey is one of spiritual enlightenment, one that provides a glimpse into a world not often revealed to us via American news and/or religious sources. And P.S. the author is an editor of Sun Magazine!
My favorite line: Ramadan revealed to me the limits of my compassion.
This book made me: think more about bi-cultural relationships and how love doesn’t discriminate.
My favorite line: Ramadan revealed to me the limits of my compassion.
This book made me: think more about bi-cultural relationships and how love doesn’t discriminate.
March 20, 2019
Our modern age and media have given us a different meaning implied or otherwise of “Jihad”. Bremer defines it as an individuals striving for spiritual and intellectual growth. That is a good definition and by that definition we should all experience “jihad” - Christian or otherwise. I really liked her insightful thoughts on Ramadan vs American Christmas. I enjoyed her insight into the veil and the lives of Muslim women at that particular time in Libya. Thought I haven’t quite fully processed and ones I should. Her story isn’t over - I wonder what more she has to say? I hope she writes again on her continuing jihad.
April 29, 2018
Interesting and worth reading for Krista's perspective of being married to a Muslim but lacks much needed reflection and growth. Once you get past the misnamed title, she is a beautiful writer that fears depth and transparency. She will touch upon a profound perspective and then drop it without the necessary follow through it warrants and deserves.
August 24, 2014
I love the way this woman writes. So calming, and full of wonderful adjectives. I believe her personal Jihad has heightened her serenity. The narrator was excellent. I look forward to meeting her at Booktopia Asheville.
July 5, 2020
I wasn’t initially drawn to this book but after others recommended it, I gave it a try. I ended up loving it & learning a lot.
May 23, 2014
Any autobiography is tricky, especially if you are young. I think Krista Bremer is 42 and her husband, Ismail Suayah, Ph.D., systems engineer, is 56. This means most of her near family members must be alive and still be of working age. Her parents, perhaps her grandparents, her siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews are out there. Most certainly her young children will hear and probably have heard comments about their parents, even though somewhat protected by their childish understanding of the world as they may be. I certainly can understand if she has chosen to not discuss or has excised certain topics or people from her memoir. I have read that she has already received questions/comments from audiences and has received mass media communications which have been horrible, as well as supportive, but I suppose she must have some ability to withstand criticism, otherwise, why the book?
Her book certainly has aroused strong feelings from me. Since she has written a book, and she wants to provoke a discussion, I don't feel as cautious as I might be.
The subjects she wished to discuss honestly in her memoir:
'political correctness' in the liberal white middle-class enclaves of America;
Islamophobia vs. the Islam she understands as teaching Muslims to love their families, neighbors, and different peoples, and not to hate;
the meaning of Jihad - the personal struggle in your heart against your faults, which might include selfishness and intolerance;
sexual 'surrender' ;
the wearing of a head scarf that her juvenile daughter chose to do;
the dubious lessons of American culture about female sexuality;
her sudden awareness of American consumerism through her husband's eyes;
how American 'individualism' contrasts with her Libyan relatives' beliefs, and her husband, which has caused some friction in their marriage, for which she indicated their going to family counseling.
I share her distaste of the stranglehold that political correctness has become in certain quarters. It originally was a kind of social repression for the common good, begun originally to deter Hate Speech, particularly those forms of name-calling which reinforced stereotypes unfairly. Now, it is used to hide any kind of issue, large or small, claiming falsely that peace is being kept, but in fact it is to delay or derail any cure of the problems or issues.
The white, privileged middle-class where she apparently grew up is foreign to me, a blue-collar neighborhood having been my childhood home, but I've met some people who sound like the ones she describes in her memoir, those complacent white folks who rely so heavily on politically correct 'truisms', which in reality seem designed to maintain an ignorance while feeling virtuously knowledgeable.
Political correctness certainly is part of the problem. But I've noticed that there also is simply a deep ignorance about the effects of deprivation, and the effects of deprivation while living next door to plenty. A minor example from my own experience: busing policies enacted in the 1960's in order to promote desegregation. In my case, it meant instead of attending a school where most of the kids were poor or at-risk, and with whom I had grown up, I went to a school where most of the kids received brand new cars for their 16th birthday and whose parents had set iron-clad expectations and money aside for their children's college education. I was an ersatz 'Muslim' in a Christian school, so to speak. (I'm not a Muslim, to clarify - I'm being rhetorical.) A lot of the rich kids did not think they were lucky or that I was fascinating because I was poor. They thought I was a waste of their friendship, if they deigned to notice me at all. However, they excitedly volunteered to collect food cans for the poor, so I'm well aware of the confused do-good obliviousness of the privileged classes.
In reading the author's book, I thought she was constantly looking for leadership from others, whether it be Feminists, bosses, peers, or liberal social values being talked up by talking heads and glossy women's magazines. I never picked up any kind of self-creation, any adjustment of information to suit herself, whatever the disapproval or loss of support that might have caused. She seemed to crave structure with strict rules and procedures in all of her seeking.
My general impression about Bremer is someone who is overly-anxious about her appearance and desperate to fit into her desired clique. She uses a lot of ink on her weight, fitness level, and dressing for sexiness. Without question, American society puts great value on physical looks. Americans are inundated with checklists for various standards of perfection. Everywhere you look it's recommended that we do 5 hours of exercise a week, a Pilate class or doing Hot Yoga for best health, diet until size 0, eat three vegetables two fruits nuts and fish every day, eat only egg whites, etc. There is a lot of guilt-inducing 'standards' pushed into our faces every minute of every day - but very quickly most people learn to pick and choose what feels best, and reject the rest as noise. The author does not appear to be able to do this without a lot of self-flagellation. She seemed like the kind of person looking always for approval instead of relying on her own judgement. A check list is a must for her, not a suggestion, 'to spec' for presumed general social acceptance. How was this being 'individualist'?
Transferring her anxieties for approval and rules about her looks to the rules of a religion seem like an obvious choice for her, since religion requires giving up all responsibility for self- assessment, not a jihad at all. Religion tells you what to do, how to behave, what is right and wrong. If jihad is what I think it means, then in fact it's the usual religious obfuscation of meaning. All she is doing is erasing the old rules in her heart and implanting the new rules she's been told to put there, whether they actually make sense for her or not. All she is doing is becoming an Islamic bot, instead of a Barbie doll, exchanging one set of rules for another. How is that searching her heart? She even sees enjoying sex as 'surrender', instead of, say, playful sharing. To me, this is a strong clue about how she thinks. I got the impression that her daughter was enjoying being an individual far more than Bremer.
No wonder Bremer is turned off by what she saw as commercialism and the American self-image. She can not actually create a self for herself.
On the subject of Islamophobia: I know that some Christians hate or fear Muslims because they are of a different faith, or because they look or sound odd and unfamiliar. It's true also some Muslims hate and fear Christians. Full disclosure: I dislike ALL organized religions because I have NO tolerance for religious dictatorship, which has sometimes including robbery, torture and death, and punishments for disobedience of religious dictums and for 'improper' social behavior. Punishing and ostracizing those who refuse to obey religious 'laws' in dress, praying, haircuts, tattoos, music, food, hand and other body parts taboos, hiding the body under voluminous wrappings, forbidding makeup or piercings, forbidding abortions, forcing children into marriage, burial edicts, ordering women be servants to men, keeping eyes down, separate spaces for the sexes, etc. is absolutely abhorrent and disgusting to me. My 'Islamophobia' is actually 'religion-phobia', and not because believers are different culturally. It's because all religions want to control me with so-called god commandments about my behavior since I'm female, that men do NOT have to obey.
I'm not prejudiced against Islam, I'm prejudiced against the practice of Islam( as well as against the practice of Christianity, Hinduism, Judaism, et al.) in the role of governing society. If religious people were as benign as they believe themselves to be, I'd be as tolerant as religious people PROFESS they are. I know for every follower of a religion who keeps their religious practices behind the doors of their homes, there are followers who are beating, burning out, torturing and killing people who will not convert. Plus, I don't care if 9 out of 10 religious members have never forced a non-believer to convert, the fact is if they live in a democracy, they vote as instructed by their religion. That is NOT a 'freely' chosen vote. That is NOT a separation of Church and State. So because of THEIR faith, not mine, I will be prevented by law, if the initiatives or laws against me as a woman are passed, from working outside of the home because of my sex, from equal pay, from access to an abortion, from using contraceptives, or from choosing to not marry, from leaving my house dressed in shorts, from driving, from having a bank account, from having my own money, from signing contracts to buy a car or house or have credit cards, from speaking or sitting freely wherever I choose, etc. This list is the short version, mind you. It is also the America that was until the 1990's, and which I worked to change.
The author is currently practicing a benign version of her faith, cherry-picking what she likes, mixing it up with Buddhism. If we didn't have a general acceptance of freedom of religion AND separation of Church and State in this country, she would not be living under such a benign hand. As it is, separation of church and state is corroding. All religions hate and despise women, categorizing females as brainless cattle.
Personally, I have fun with political discussions anywhere anytime, as loud, bitter and disrespectful as I feel. If I want to run a mile, ride a bicycle around a park, go hiking, fishing, scuba diving, ride a Ferris wheel or get drunk, I'm currently free to do so anywhere I want with whoever I want. I stand where I want, sit where I want, with any man or woman.
Of everything I despise about religions, it is the putting of everything, literally EVERYTHING, my body does in a moral context. It's my NUMBER ONE horror. I literally would rather die than live 24/7 being forced to figure out, and be judging of myself and by everybody else, if I'm eating, sleeping, dressing, dancing, singing, thinking, drinking, swearing, exposing the hair on my head, sitting with a man I don't know, talking, laughing loudly, crossing my legs, putting my feet with soles exposed up, jogging, playing baseball, etc. IMMORALLY!
Many religions have racial discrimination built into their practices. Muslims must marry Muslims, a Hindu of a particular class must marry one of the same Hindu class, etc. The religious declare that it's not discrimination, it's the right to practice their faith! Not to me, it isn't. If it quacks like a duck, and looks like a duck, it's discrimination.
I love consumerism, though I also strongly support environmental restraints on reckless consumerism. I love electricity and Internet access 24/7, indoor plumbing, rock music, pierced ears, tattoos, long processed hair on both sexes, gym-workout bodies and public beach boardwalk sideshow fun and swimming if it's 80 degrees Fahrenheit. I like driving in my own car with the window open and wind flowing over my unwrapped head. I like shopping in the mall, by myself, in shorts, eating whatever I choose, buying it with my own earned money. I adore all kinds of movies and books, no censorship.
I feel uncomfortable making such public judgements on someone I only have an idea of by her book. But she brought in her personal life for examination in order to prove her points, so I must disagree using the same basis for my arguments. She wanted a discussion.
March 10, 2021
This is a memoir by an all-American woman who falls in love with, and marries a Muslim from Libya in North Carolina. The cultural differences make for such an interesting and touching story. I was so enthralled by the author's viewpoint and sympathized with her, especially when she went to Libya with her husband and their little girl. Their visit was during Muammar Gaddafi's ugly tyranny and was a hard time for the country and for visitors. The author was used to her daily runs and her daily Starbucks, lots of space, and privacy. There was none of that in Libya. Still the rich cultural background she found among her husband's vast friends and family made her feel welcome and beloved.
April 14, 2015
I was slightly nervous about starting this book because, while I already knew the author was a good writer (having read an essay of hers in The Sun), I also knew *her.* She and I were friends in high school, and reading works written by people you know in real life is a tricky business. What if I didn't like it?
As it turned out, I loved it. In addition to spending some of our adolescence together in the same odd town, Krista and I have a few other things in common, like a fondness for Buddhism, a fitness obsession, and marrying men of Arabic origin. My husband has a Palestinian-born father and a Georgian-born mother so it's not the same thing: he grew up in in a solidly middle-class home in Maryland, eating apple pie and playing baseball. But in the summers he'd go back to the home village in the old country and play with his non-English-speaking cousins and watch his grandmother make bread in the big outdoor tabun oven. Because my father-in-law has siblings in the States, family gatherings always involved kibbeh and hummus. Arabic was (still is) spoken around the table. Modern American wives do the cooking and cleaning; men sit around the table shouting about politics. Most of Krista's stories about Libya, and about some of Ismail's cultural peculiarities, felt familiar to me.
One big difference is that my husband's family are Christian Arabs. I was fascinated with how Krista and Ismail navigated the very-tricky waters of a marriage that was not only intercultural, but interfaith. That is a big gulf to bridge, and is the core of the book. At the beginning, it wasn't something I thought I could understand. I especially didn't think I could understand her allowing Aliya to wear the hijab, but after walking through the pages of the book with her, listening to her thoughts, I understood where she was coming from. I thought, yes, I would probably have done the same thing, given those circumstances. It was the right thing to do.
My favorite part of the book was the journey through Libya. While I totally understood the embarrassing bartering at the souk, being shunted off to the female side of the room, and the constant presence of family who are also strangers, there were obviously plenty of things that were new to me. I thought she described the journey beautifully: the good, the bad, the heartbreaking. When she told the story of her fight with Ismail over the "she hates it here" story, and how her sister-in-law silently took her hand in the car during the miserable ride home, I found tears welling up and sliding down my face. What an awful and beautiful moment.
I am reminded of Chimananda Ngozie Adichie's wonderful TED talk, "The Danger of A Single Story," in which she talks about how important it is for us to get many stories of cultures outside our own experience; it's the only way to break out of stereotypes. "The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.
Of course, Africa is a continent full of catastrophes: There are immense ones, such as the horrific rapes in Congo and depressing ones, such as the fact that 5,000 people apply for one job vacancy in Nigeria. But there are other stories that are not about catastrophe, and it is very important, it is just as important, to talk about them."
What Krista does here, and perhaps it is the reason she told this story, is give a story about Islam that is not the one you hear on the news. We hear far, far too many stories of violent, backward, misogynistic Muslims, to the point where it is difficult for us to conceive of any other kind. By introducing us to Ismail and his Libyan family, we understand that this is only one story, and a very incomplete one. It is important for us to hear stories like Krista's—more important now than ever.
As it turned out, I loved it. In addition to spending some of our adolescence together in the same odd town, Krista and I have a few other things in common, like a fondness for Buddhism, a fitness obsession, and marrying men of Arabic origin. My husband has a Palestinian-born father and a Georgian-born mother so it's not the same thing: he grew up in in a solidly middle-class home in Maryland, eating apple pie and playing baseball. But in the summers he'd go back to the home village in the old country and play with his non-English-speaking cousins and watch his grandmother make bread in the big outdoor tabun oven. Because my father-in-law has siblings in the States, family gatherings always involved kibbeh and hummus. Arabic was (still is) spoken around the table. Modern American wives do the cooking and cleaning; men sit around the table shouting about politics. Most of Krista's stories about Libya, and about some of Ismail's cultural peculiarities, felt familiar to me.
One big difference is that my husband's family are Christian Arabs. I was fascinated with how Krista and Ismail navigated the very-tricky waters of a marriage that was not only intercultural, but interfaith. That is a big gulf to bridge, and is the core of the book. At the beginning, it wasn't something I thought I could understand. I especially didn't think I could understand her allowing Aliya to wear the hijab, but after walking through the pages of the book with her, listening to her thoughts, I understood where she was coming from. I thought, yes, I would probably have done the same thing, given those circumstances. It was the right thing to do.
My favorite part of the book was the journey through Libya. While I totally understood the embarrassing bartering at the souk, being shunted off to the female side of the room, and the constant presence of family who are also strangers, there were obviously plenty of things that were new to me. I thought she described the journey beautifully: the good, the bad, the heartbreaking. When she told the story of her fight with Ismail over the "she hates it here" story, and how her sister-in-law silently took her hand in the car during the miserable ride home, I found tears welling up and sliding down my face. What an awful and beautiful moment.
I am reminded of Chimananda Ngozie Adichie's wonderful TED talk, "The Danger of A Single Story," in which she talks about how important it is for us to get many stories of cultures outside our own experience; it's the only way to break out of stereotypes. "The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.
Of course, Africa is a continent full of catastrophes: There are immense ones, such as the horrific rapes in Congo and depressing ones, such as the fact that 5,000 people apply for one job vacancy in Nigeria. But there are other stories that are not about catastrophe, and it is very important, it is just as important, to talk about them."
What Krista does here, and perhaps it is the reason she told this story, is give a story about Islam that is not the one you hear on the news. We hear far, far too many stories of violent, backward, misogynistic Muslims, to the point where it is difficult for us to conceive of any other kind. By introducing us to Ismail and his Libyan family, we understand that this is only one story, and a very incomplete one. It is important for us to hear stories like Krista's—more important now than ever.
May 21, 2014
I've subscribed to The Sun Magazine off and on for years now. It's this quirky little ad-free monthly wonder, focused on personal writing. They also publish the occasional short story or poem, and they accompany their selections with fabulous black-and-white photography, but the reason I keep coming back is the personal narratives in which contributors bare their souls and offer them up as artwork made public. It's candid, sometimes uncomfortable, and always utterly compelling.
Krista Bremer is the associate publisher of The Sun, and it was this connection that made me eager to read her recently-published memoir. In the shamelessly honest way typical of the magazine, Bremer tells her life's love story: how she, as a tall blonde twentysomething, met Ismail, the middle-aged Libyan immigrant who would become her loving, imperfect husband.
Bremer and her mate come together across a wide gulf of differences. He is a practicing Muslim; she was raised a secular Christian. He lives in a small, sparsely furnished apartment, his possessions limited to the bare essentials; she is a typical American consumer who hasn't put much thought into her spending habits. He is vivacious, with a loud booming voice and a penchant for haggling when making purchases, which makes her feel conspicuous and embarrassed. Bremer readily admits that their relationship has not been an easy one, that many times she has wished for a husband whose culture matches hers.
However, Bremer has also found great joy and fulfillment in her marriage to Ismail. She portrays him as patient, loyal, and practical—traits she knows she needs to cultivate in herself. Their unique union creates some genuinely funny moments as well, including Bremer's consistent failure to explain “the Christmas spirit” in a way Ismail understands. She playfully describes Ismail's heedless devotion to his ancient Toyota, replete with duct-taped seats and broken air conditioner.
I love getting inside other people's heads, and reading memoirs is a great way to do that. I love the honesty that Bremer brings to her writing and to The Sun as a whole. Most of all, I love reading books that help me understand other people's lives. Bremer and her husband may be flawed, their backgrounds antithetical, but their love is strong and hard-earned.
If you enjoy this book, you may also like Ann Patchett's essay collection This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, which I recommended here.
With regards to NetGalley and the publisher for the advance copy.
More book recommendations by me at www.readingwithhippos.com
Krista Bremer is the associate publisher of The Sun, and it was this connection that made me eager to read her recently-published memoir. In the shamelessly honest way typical of the magazine, Bremer tells her life's love story: how she, as a tall blonde twentysomething, met Ismail, the middle-aged Libyan immigrant who would become her loving, imperfect husband.
Bremer and her mate come together across a wide gulf of differences. He is a practicing Muslim; she was raised a secular Christian. He lives in a small, sparsely furnished apartment, his possessions limited to the bare essentials; she is a typical American consumer who hasn't put much thought into her spending habits. He is vivacious, with a loud booming voice and a penchant for haggling when making purchases, which makes her feel conspicuous and embarrassed. Bremer readily admits that their relationship has not been an easy one, that many times she has wished for a husband whose culture matches hers.
However, Bremer has also found great joy and fulfillment in her marriage to Ismail. She portrays him as patient, loyal, and practical—traits she knows she needs to cultivate in herself. Their unique union creates some genuinely funny moments as well, including Bremer's consistent failure to explain “the Christmas spirit” in a way Ismail understands. She playfully describes Ismail's heedless devotion to his ancient Toyota, replete with duct-taped seats and broken air conditioner.
I love getting inside other people's heads, and reading memoirs is a great way to do that. I love the honesty that Bremer brings to her writing and to The Sun as a whole. Most of all, I love reading books that help me understand other people's lives. Bremer and her husband may be flawed, their backgrounds antithetical, but their love is strong and hard-earned.
If you enjoy this book, you may also like Ann Patchett's essay collection This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, which I recommended here.
With regards to NetGalley and the publisher for the advance copy.
More book recommendations by me at www.readingwithhippos.com
July 27, 2017
I really appreciated and loved this book. I have been married to an Indian man for just over 7 years, and I am a Caucasian woman from Oklahoma. Although my husband is now an American citizen and has been in the US for 15 years, our cutural differences are sometimes overwhelming.
Although the husband in this book is from Libya and a Muslim (my husband was raised Christian), I was startled to find this author describing her husband's cultural traits, customs, values, and charateristics as I have described my own husband's. Even though Libya and India are far away from each other, they seem to be somewhat similar, atleast from this one woman's depictions.
When visiting India, I have often grappled with the exact same issues this woman has - watching my husband barter, or the constant overwhelming attention from family with no personal space, or the uncomfortable intimacy that is shared between family members that is unfamilar to me, the poverty, the lack of women's rights, the long endless stretches of time and conversations. Trying to determine the line between my ego, my Amercian centric point of view, and what is the appropriate response to each strange uncomfortable, unfamilar, situation that I encounter in India is a constant struggle of personal growth and questioning.
Several commentators have stated that there is no character development in this book, and I couldn't disagree more. Is there a sweeping large obvious character development? No, but that is exactly what I appreciate about this book. The smallest insight, and self discovery, two steps forward and one step back. The author admits to lots of selfishness and then the tiniest, almost imperceptible moment of personal growth and self sacrifice, that people might not even notice. The author has a startling insight, but then doesn't really know how to react or what this insight actually means in practical application. This is real life. Character development is slow, painful, and often times completely unnoticeable in the daily ordinariness of life. This author made a thousand small decisions that led her to question her American cultural, her ego, her materialism, her need for control. There was often more left hanging in the air unresolved or not completely understood, but isn't that life?
The prose of this book was so lovely and delightful. I also love how the author took the most mundane moments and wrapped then in words of sacredness. She weaved all the moments of her life into one big spiritual journey.
I loved this book.
Although the husband in this book is from Libya and a Muslim (my husband was raised Christian), I was startled to find this author describing her husband's cultural traits, customs, values, and charateristics as I have described my own husband's. Even though Libya and India are far away from each other, they seem to be somewhat similar, atleast from this one woman's depictions.
When visiting India, I have often grappled with the exact same issues this woman has - watching my husband barter, or the constant overwhelming attention from family with no personal space, or the uncomfortable intimacy that is shared between family members that is unfamilar to me, the poverty, the lack of women's rights, the long endless stretches of time and conversations. Trying to determine the line between my ego, my Amercian centric point of view, and what is the appropriate response to each strange uncomfortable, unfamilar, situation that I encounter in India is a constant struggle of personal growth and questioning.
Several commentators have stated that there is no character development in this book, and I couldn't disagree more. Is there a sweeping large obvious character development? No, but that is exactly what I appreciate about this book. The smallest insight, and self discovery, two steps forward and one step back. The author admits to lots of selfishness and then the tiniest, almost imperceptible moment of personal growth and self sacrifice, that people might not even notice. The author has a startling insight, but then doesn't really know how to react or what this insight actually means in practical application. This is real life. Character development is slow, painful, and often times completely unnoticeable in the daily ordinariness of life. This author made a thousand small decisions that led her to question her American cultural, her ego, her materialism, her need for control. There was often more left hanging in the air unresolved or not completely understood, but isn't that life?
The prose of this book was so lovely and delightful. I also love how the author took the most mundane moments and wrapped then in words of sacredness. She weaved all the moments of her life into one big spiritual journey.
I loved this book.
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