AUTHOR OF THE BESTSELLER, ZABELLE AUTHOR OF THE NEW YORK TIMES REVIEWED, ALL THE LIGHT THERE WAS In vivid, poetic prose, Nancy Kricorian’s The Burning Heart of the World tells the story of a Beirut Armenian family before, during, and after the Lebanese Civil War.
“You won’t be able to put this book down."—Marie Myung-Ok Lee, author of The Evening Hero “vivid, reverberating life.”—Aram Saroyan, author of Still Night in L.A.
Returning to the fabular tone of Zabelle, her popular first novel, Kricorian conjures up the lost worlds and intergenerational traumas that haunt a family in permanent exile. Leavened with humor and imbued with the timelessness of a folktale, The Burning Heart of the World is a sweeping saga that takes listeners on an epic journey from the mountains of Cilicia to contemporary New York City.
Nancy Kricorian, who was born and raised in the Armenian community of Watertown, Massachusetts, is the author of four novels about post-genocide Armenian diaspora experience, including Zabelle, which was translated into seven languages, was adapted as a play, and has been continuously in print since 1998. Her latest novel, The Burning Heart of the World, is about Armenians in Beirut during the Lebanese Civil War. Her essays and poems have appeared in The Los Angeles Review of Books Quarterly, Guernica, Parnassus, Minnesota Review, The Mississippi Review, and other journals. She has taught at Barnard, Columbia, Yale, and New York University, as well as with Teachers & Writers Collaborative in the New York City Public Schools, and has been a mentor with We Are Not Numbers since 2015. She has been the recipient of a New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowship, a Gold Medal from the Writers Union of Armenia, and the Anahid Literary Award, among other honors. She lives in New York City.
Just finished this book driving from Richmond to Charlottesville. It's a short novel that packs an emotional wallop. I liked the story well enough through the first 80% but the last chapter, about 29 minutes long in the audiobook, absolutely gutted me. I'm talking full on bawling so hard I had to pull over to compose myself. I think the burning heart of the world is the human ability to be both the source and the victim of such horrific violence. This singular thread recurring through generations. Is trauma just hard wired into our DNA?
Emotionally engaging novel about trauma, firsthand and generational, and about a family and a girl in particular, Vera, trying to hold on to the everydayness of life while living under the constant threat of war. The war here is at a remove, in the distance--there are warnings of it and the family, among others, go into hiding, in basements, parking garages, hallways. The war happens outside the walls, it shakes the house, dust and plaster descends from the rafters, Vera and her brothers and her family try to sleep, plan for the next day while the world rumbles and gunfire sounds off like fireworks. It's visceral and terrifying, and honestly, wearying. All the while, Vera is trying to navigate growing up, hanging out with her friends, an illicit (though maybe sanctioned) affair between a friend (though they're only really friendly when in hiding) and a grown man--Vera serves as go-between ferrying messages back and forth between the lovers, school, her art, and that new boy in school.
I enjoyed the short, first part of the book, the part set later in Vera's life around the time of September 11th. Navigating that event, the way she was cool and calm about it, citing PTSD, seemed out of step with most experiences of that time, but then the book breaks to her past in Beirut, and we start to understand why it was..."easy" for her get through it.
Great, powerful novel.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Loved it. Loved. It. I know nothing about Lebanon and wars there and Armenians in a war there or anything, but this is a beautiful book about children growing up in a war environment and becoming immigrants/aliens elsewhere. With a folktale appended at the end which ties it all together. It did remind me of a bunch of other books, but it has its own DNA. Very nice.
It also was the hardest to find -- none of my 3 library systems had it. I got it through ILL and I'm going to urge my library to buy it.
A lyrical beautifully crafted novel about a family, intergenerational trauma, and struggle to survive, rebuild, resow, restore in the face of genocides, wars and exile. It reminds us that despite the loss, the memory and trauma of our ancestors never leaves us. While so much of our history is lost or erased, we can feel that memory and trauma in our bones. The memory is an integral part we carry in our bodies, and I love how Kricorian explores this through her characters with so much love and care. I felt as if I knew them, as if they were plucked from my own past through the memories living deeply in my bones.
Others have written better reviews of this book, so I’ll leave it to them. I’ll give you a brief, honest impression.
The story did not draw me in at first. I found it hard to figure out who the reader was supposed to identify with. As I read on, the characters came into focus and I became much more invested.
For me, the ending sold the book (no spoilers). The author’s talents were on full display. I am a jaded soul, but it struck me like an arrow to the heart. That last story affected me in a way few authors have. Truly masterful.
My advice to you, if you aren’t “into” the first few pages: keep reading. There is gold here.
A short but intense novel showing the savagery of war from the eyes of a child. Set in the onset of the Lebanese Civil War, Vera, Armen and Raffi are three children who just want to go to school and interact with their friends. But they are forced to grow up fast as they grapple with horrendous images that become part of daily life. Men are beaten at checkpoints, bullets whizz by walls, missiles fly over the din of classrooms, bomb shelters and roaming militias of men stocked with rifles become part of daily life. Reports of new deaths reach their worried parents' ears. Vera loves Beirut, but could they stay? This is an intense novel that solidifies how horrific war and violence is.
Based on the description of this book I thought I would love it, especially being historical fiction but it didn’t make me feel anything. I think it had the potential to be something great, but it feels more like a first draft than a completed novel. I wish it would’ve been longer, with more character development to draw me into the story and form a connection to Vera. Thank you to the publisher for the gifted arc.
Thank you to NetGalley for this Advence Reader’s copy.
This book was very lyrical and i enjoyed learning a little bit about Armenia and its history . This books navigate between the present and the past of Vera’s life. It explained, how it was to live your childhood with war and what repercussions it has on you even later in life. It explains how the trauma of the war is never really healed and how, even the smallest thing, can make you feel unsafe all over again. I just wish, i could have read more about Vera in the US, to know how she would have handle this new challenge in her life.
The tragedy of the Twin Towers takes the protagonist back in time, first to when her family fled war-torn Beirut, and then further back, to the heart of all the evil suffered by the Armenian people, whose suffering is still easily forgotten today. The protagonist's memories take the reader through the trauma of exile, her childhood fear of returning home from school and not finding her family. Of the possibility of dying, every day, in the most cruel and futile of ways. A book that is difficult to put down and difficult to forget.
An extremely well-written novel that splits between the 2001 attacks in New York and an Armenian family during the Lebanese Civil War. It really shines a light on a group not typically represented in American novels and its powerful, gorgeous prose kept me engaged through the whole experience.
A sad but hopeful story about an Armenian girl living in Lebanon, her and her family's move to America, and the stories she hears from her grandmother about the past. The Armenian Genocide and the trauma that is passed down from generation to generation is the back story of this book.
Book review: 4/5 ⭐️ Genre: fiction Themes: Armenian diaspora, inherited trauma, displacement, family 📖 Read if you like: What Strange Paradise, The Boat People, Transcendent Kingdom
This is an emotional tale of a Beirut Armenian family before, during and after the Lebanese Civil War. It has an almost visceral quality of writing. My body and mind responded to the dangers and the carried trauma inherited through intergenerational displacement and war. It was like a little stone that settled into my soul, a vice that squeezed now and again, leavened by the joys of a child and first love. It manages to paint the Armenian diaspora with both a raw and tactile form, while also creating the ethereal dreamlike state of folk stories.
At its heart it is the tale of one family that could be many. It starts in NYC just after the 9/11 attacks. One horrific landscape that triggers another buried to memory. A childhood in Lebanon that rapidly turns from idyllic to one of bomb shelters and checkpoints, to senseless murders and bias. A civil war that robbed many families a place to call home, especially those that had already lost one in the mountains of Hadjin. A grandmother’s story of being forced to leave her home in a march of orphans. It is a heavy a burden that must be carried by those who survived.
The Serinossians are an ordinary family in that they have squabbles, boisterous family dinners and sibling rivalries. They also share lived experiences they do not wish to speak of. Vera is the eldest child and only daughter of this family and this is her story, and the story of her people. It is both sweet and heartbreaking. A need for therapy and cathartic in the storytelling itself. For such a heavy topic, the narrative manages to balance the dark with the sweetness of childhood. The bombs flying overhead with the poetic joy of friendship and family.
This was eye opening for I knew little about the history of the Armenian displacement, but more than that I found it a beautiful piece of storytelling on how trauma is created, carried and inherited. Yet, that does not stop a beautiful life from blooming in the ravages of war. Opposing elements combine to make this sweet and a tear jerker.
Thank you to NetGalley and Red Hen Press for an advanced copy of this book.
Thank you Red Hen Press and NetGalley for this Advanced Reader's Copy. This was a quick, mostly straightforward read with themes of war's effects over generations.
I like the details on main character Vera's anxiety, both around 9/11 as an adult and in Beirut as a pre-teen. I got the impression she is an empath and feels misunderstood, especially when her mom asks things like "Why do you always have to dream up the worst possible thing?" This book also delves into how people with different personalities have very different reactions to war occurring around them. Vera's mom might not understand her brand of anxiety, but she realizes the danger and wants the family to flee to the U.S. Vera's brother opines that leaving is irresponsible and unpatriotic. And Vera's grandmother, who was forced out of her home in Hadjin as a young girl, refuses to leave another beloved home. By contrast, another woman relative puts a great deal of effort into her appearance, saying, "Wearing makeup helps a woman feel a little less desperate." It impressed upon me that there's often not a "right" way to react to national tragedy, and adult Vera doesn't know how after 9/11.
While I enjoyed this, I felt the plot was slightly disconnected. I don't think it ever states in the text that the subject is the Lebanese Civil War, that was something I picked up from context clues and Google. We get a synopsis of the grandma's family tragedies from fleeing Hadjin, but no background on that conflict at all. I was also waiting for more on how Vera's life goes after 9/11. Also, some smaller details didn't really fit (like as a kid, Vera's youngest brother Raffi is speaking full, coherent sentences, but at the end of the book is just learning how to walk, which I thought kids do around age one). Overall, this is still worth a read and encouraged me to educate myself on the conflicts in Lebanon and Hadjin.
“and there had been thousands upon thousands of them, without homes, without parents, some too young to remember their own names. and these were the lucky ones, the ones who had survived. land of armenians, land of orphans.”
february may be a tad early to make the call for my personal favourite book of the year—and this novel is not officially out until april—but “the burning heart of the world” is already a strong contender for this title.
war is tedious. it destroys all in its path, without a care for people or buildings, animals or plants, but it is tedious. it builds an eerie lull, a monotony of life that is interrupted by a sudden blast. war happens around you, and yet you must still go to work or go to school, you still share a drink with your friends on a balcony, you still bicker with your siblings and you still have to plan for the future, until the next blast makes that future feel uncertain yet again.
kricorian’s prose is emotional and deeply vivid. in her author notes and acknowledgments she spoke of visiting lebanon and seeing the streets for herself, and it certainly is reflected in the descriptions of the buildings, the bustle of people, the heat of the sun. vera is such a beautiful protagonist, a girl whose ptsd is elevated by what appears to be anxiety, and a war that haunts her half the world away. she was so deeply, deeply empathetic for all life, you couldn’t help but cherish every page with her. the family dynamic was lively, each relationship fleshed out so well in such a short span of pages.
“the burning heart of the world” is really a love letter to both lebanon and armenians who had to flee their homes and carve out a new space for themselves. it’s not directly about the armenian genocide, but it lingers, following the family for generations, all the way to new york nearly a hundred years later. war is monotonous, and slow, and destructive, and it never really leaves you behind.
thanks to netgalley and red hen press for the arc.
“Yes, it is, it is possible to cry for the whole world.” This is a deeply tragic book, and our main character has a deeply empathetic heart. It makes the tragedies that happen within that much more poignant. It’s also so based in reality, a reminder that in times of strife innocent bystanders are often victims to political warfare. If you’re looking for a book that will pull your heartstrings, and teach you some about Armenia I would definitely recommend checking this out. I understand that for a lot of this book the perspective is that of an adolescent, but it was difficult to understand some of the family connections and dynamics since they often weren’t explicitly stated. I felt like I needed to see a family tree sometimes. It took away the emotional impact of a reveal later in the book because I genuinely had no connection to the character being talked about. The same goes for the politics and war of the region at the time. It felt accurate to the character but that doesn’t mean it was easy to understand as a reader. Regardless I thought this was a good book and I’m glad I read it. 3.5 stars.
Thank you to Red Hen Press and to NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this title!
It’s truly difficult to know where to start this review. We’re given two deeply unique viewpoints into Vera’s life, firstly when we see how she struggles in a post 9/11 world, and then earlier in her life when we learn why her struggles run so deep. Kricorian’s lyrical prose kept me engaged, enthralled, and ran my heart to ruin throughout Vera’s story. My heart ached and still aches for Vera in all phases of her life - simple anxieties about a crush and keeping a cousin’s secrets, to knowing how to take care of both yourself and your family in a world you no longer understand.
The family ties in this book rang especially poignant to me and I loved the determination to stay together and survive that echoed through generations. Vera will stay with me in my heart, and I am very grateful to Nancy Kricorian for opening my eyes to a story and a struggle I previously knew nothing about.
I keep thinking about this book since I finished it a few weeks ago. Nancy Kricorian offers a profound meditation on Armenian identity—on the ongoing pain of displacement, the persistence of joy, and the definition of “home”. My mother lived through the Lebanese Civil War depicted in these pages, and Nancy’s storytelling felt as though she were giving voice to my own family’s history. The final chapter in particular is a showstopper, told as a fairy tale—my heart still clenches thinking about it.
Very touching prose, the opening chapters in the US post-9/11 made me feel tenderness for Vera’s struggles almost immediately. The story so sadly parallels and likely resonates with the experiences of many groups around the world today while still weaving an inter-generational tale of the “burning shirt of exile” that is undeniably, hauntingly Armenian. The chronology of sections blended nicely but like a good book often does, it felt slightly short! I would have loved to read on following the Serinossian’s arrival in the US from Lebanon.
Nancy Kricorian's The Burning Heart of the World weaves elements of poetry, fable, history and storytelling to create a profound work that informs readers about the devastation and loss resulting from the Armenian genocide. This compelling family story takes us from New York City during 9/11 to Armenia in the 1980s and finally to Armenia during the march of displacement to Syria. Of course, this story is timely as we witness an ongoing genocide in Gaza and Sudan. It is an important read for everyone who cares about the plight of humanity.
The writing of this one is lovely, but the whole thing feels oddly structured and like it’s missing something. Or maybe I’m just letting my hatred of dual-timeline historical fiction get in the way.
The Burning Heart of the World is a poignant coming of age story set largely in Beirut during the Lebanese Civil War. In spare language, Kricorian evokes the lasting psychological effects of war and displacement as the novel moves from New York to Lebanon to the Ottoman Empire. In the face of violence and exile, the characters here are still deeply human, as Kricorian juxtaposes the quotidian—a school crush, a Halloween costume—with the shocking brutality of war and genocide.