My words won’t capture this book and my response to it properly. No doubt, rereading it once my knowledge of the world grows some more would completely change my understanding of it. The book allowed me to see beyond my tiny picture of Persia, the Islamic Republic, and current events. It’s not a traditional family saga as I first thought, but rather a kaleidoscopic visit to a large family known for lively gatherings, religious ceremony, and a penchant for telling stories and writing memoirs. The Gowkaran Tree in the Middle of Our Kitchen sometimes presented itself as magical realism, showcasing a reverence for poetry and art, not just for their beauty and historical significance, but also for their power to bring comfort and inspire resistance. All the references to myths and legends made me want to learn so much more about Ancient Iran, the rich cultures and different peoples that make up the Iranshahri. But the book wasn't all whimsical fantasy; it treaded the darkness of oppressive governments, detailing surveillance, extrajudicial killings, and the suppression of the population. It personified and deified life and death as much as it detailed real applications of those themes. By the end of the book, I was absolutely heartbroken, but I was still left with the hum of hope and the spirit of resistance, love, and joy. Azar explored the symbolism of numbers and trees, whose meaning I longed to grasp. I noticed that all of the author's books have a tree in the title, which makes me curious to read them and determine the connection for myself.