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North of Dawn
A bold absorbing novel about a couple whose tranquil life abroad is irrevocably transformed by the arrival of their son's widow and children, from Somalia's most celebrated novelist.
For decades, Gacalo and Mugdi have lived in Oslo, where they've led a peaceful, largely assimilated life and raised two children. Their beloved son, Dhaqaneh, however, driven by feelings of alienation to jihadism in Somalia, kills himself in a suicide attack, and the couple reluctantly decide to offer their daughter-in-law, Waliya, and teenage grandchildren escape from the refugee camp where they've been trapped since Dhaqaneh's death. But on arrival in Oslo, Waliya and her traumatized daughter cloak themselves even more deeply in religion, while her son hungers for the freedoms of their new homeland, a rift that will have life-altering consequences for the entire family.
Set against the backdrop of real events, North of Dawn is a provocative, devastating story of love, loyalty, and national identity that asks whether it is ever possible to escape a legacy of violence--and if so, at what cost.
For decades, Gacalo and Mugdi have lived in Oslo, where they've led a peaceful, largely assimilated life and raised two children. Their beloved son, Dhaqaneh, however, driven by feelings of alienation to jihadism in Somalia, kills himself in a suicide attack, and the couple reluctantly decide to offer their daughter-in-law, Waliya, and teenage grandchildren escape from the refugee camp where they've been trapped since Dhaqaneh's death. But on arrival in Oslo, Waliya and her traumatized daughter cloak themselves even more deeply in religion, while her son hungers for the freedoms of their new homeland, a rift that will have life-altering consequences for the entire family.
Set against the backdrop of real events, North of Dawn is a provocative, devastating story of love, loyalty, and national identity that asks whether it is ever possible to escape a legacy of violence--and if so, at what cost.
383 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 4, 2018
131 people are currently reading
3167 people want to read
About the author
Nuruddin Farah
31 books338 followersNuruddin Farah (Somali: Nuuradiin Faarax, Arabic: نور الدين فرح) is a prominent Somali novelist. Farah has garnered acclaim as one of the greatest contemporary writers in the world, his prose having earned him accolades including the Premio Cavour in Italy, the Kurt Tucholsky Prize in Sweden, the Lettre Ulysses Award in Berlin, and in 1998, the prestigious Neustadt International Prize for Literature. In the same year, the French edition of his novel Gifts won the St Malo Literature Festival's prize. In addition, Farah is a perennial nominee for the Nobel Prize in Literature.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 162 reviews
September 30, 2024
This is the first book I’ve read by this author, although I understand it’s his twelfth published novel. I was attracted by the premise. Mugdi and Gacalo are an older couple of Somali origin, living in Norway. They have adapted well to Norwegian life, as has their daughter. However, the couple also had a disaffected son, Dhaqaneh, who became an Islamist and died whilst a member of the al-Shabaab terror group. In Africa, Dhaqaneh married a woman called Waliya, who had two children from a previous marriage. Before he died, he got Gacalo to promise that if anything happened to him, she would take care of Waliya and her children, Naciim and Saafi. The trio duly arrive in Norway and have a massive impact on the lives of Mugdi and Gacalo, some of it good, some of it bad.
The book opens with a dedication to the author’s younger sister, a UN worker who was murdered by the Taliban in Kabul in 2014. He’s clearly under no illusions about the effects of terrorism.
I’ve said in other reviews that I don’t always like works of fiction where the author is too heavy handed in conveying a political message. In this novel, the fictional story is set against the background of real-life terrorist incidents, such as the Al-Qaeda attacks in Glasgow and London in June/July 2007, and the Utoya Island Massacre in 2011. I feel the author wanted to make the point that far-right terror groups and Islamist terror groups are morally equivalent and have the same motivations – basically those of in-group love and out-group hate. At one point in the novel, Mugdi tells Naciim that “When two elephants fight, the grass gets trampled.” It is ordinary, peaceable people who become the victims of both sets of extremists.
As it happens, this is a viewpoint I entirely agree with, and one that I have tried to set out myself in other reviews. That meant I found the book easy enough to read, but the author really does lay it on with a trowel. Subtlety is not his strong point.
Another issue was that I found the spoken dialogue to be very stilted and artificial. The characters frequently sounded like members of a university debating society, and the dialogue remained wooden even when the conversations moved away from politics.
Given what I’ve said so far, you’re probably wondering why I’ve rated the novel at a reasonably favourable three stars. It’s because, despite all of the above, I couldn’t help enjoying the story and identifying with the trials and tribulations of the characters. I also enjoyed the way the book highlighted the kind of adjustments required of people who move between countries like Somalia and Norway.
I thought the book had some merits, but I wouldn’t really recommend it to others.
The book opens with a dedication to the author’s younger sister, a UN worker who was murdered by the Taliban in Kabul in 2014. He’s clearly under no illusions about the effects of terrorism.
I’ve said in other reviews that I don’t always like works of fiction where the author is too heavy handed in conveying a political message. In this novel, the fictional story is set against the background of real-life terrorist incidents, such as the Al-Qaeda attacks in Glasgow and London in June/July 2007, and the Utoya Island Massacre in 2011. I feel the author wanted to make the point that far-right terror groups and Islamist terror groups are morally equivalent and have the same motivations – basically those of in-group love and out-group hate. At one point in the novel, Mugdi tells Naciim that “When two elephants fight, the grass gets trampled.” It is ordinary, peaceable people who become the victims of both sets of extremists.
As it happens, this is a viewpoint I entirely agree with, and one that I have tried to set out myself in other reviews. That meant I found the book easy enough to read, but the author really does lay it on with a trowel. Subtlety is not his strong point.
Another issue was that I found the spoken dialogue to be very stilted and artificial. The characters frequently sounded like members of a university debating society, and the dialogue remained wooden even when the conversations moved away from politics.
Given what I’ve said so far, you’re probably wondering why I’ve rated the novel at a reasonably favourable three stars. It’s because, despite all of the above, I couldn’t help enjoying the story and identifying with the trials and tribulations of the characters. I also enjoyed the way the book highlighted the kind of adjustments required of people who move between countries like Somalia and Norway.
I thought the book had some merits, but I wouldn’t really recommend it to others.
July 12, 2021
*4.5!
Where do I even begin with this book? It was a slow burn kind of family drama novel that just keeps you rooting for most of the characters. I am in awe of this, and how heartfelt this novel was when reading. You really feel what it’s like to be a refugee in a strange country that already has its own preconceived notions and suspicions about you.
I will say though, this writing style isn’t for everyone. The jump between timelines/different sections wasn’t always clear, and it did take some reconfiguring to realize what just happened. It’s not my personal favourite, but the book and the characters speak for themselves!
If you’re looking for a different view, a different story, then I highly recommend this one!
Where do I even begin with this book? It was a slow burn kind of family drama novel that just keeps you rooting for most of the characters. I am in awe of this, and how heartfelt this novel was when reading. You really feel what it’s like to be a refugee in a strange country that already has its own preconceived notions and suspicions about you.
I will say though, this writing style isn’t for everyone. The jump between timelines/different sections wasn’t always clear, and it did take some reconfiguring to realize what just happened. It’s not my personal favourite, but the book and the characters speak for themselves!
If you’re looking for a different view, a different story, then I highly recommend this one!
December 19, 2018
When Nuruddin Farah writes fiction about the ravages of terrorism, the details may be imaginary but the scars are real. The celebrated Somali novelist, a frequent contender for the Nobel Prize in literature, lost his sister Basra Farah Hassan in 2014. A nutritionist working for UNICEF, she was murdered, along with at least 20 others, when the Taliban bombed a restaurant in Kabul.
Farah’s new book, “North of Dawn,” places its characters far from flying shrapnel but deep in conflicted grief. Like his previous novel, “Hiding in Plain Sight,” it’s concerned with difficult questions of forgiveness and recovery in the aftermath of violence. The story opens in Oslo, when a Somali diplomat named Mugdi gets word that his only son has blown himself up at the airport in Mogadishu. Mugdi and his wife, Gacalo, suspected their son was radicalized, but news of his death makes it impossible to ignore the truth any longer: They are the parents of a suicide bomber.
Shocked and disgusted, Mugdi wants nothing to do with the memory of his late son. But his wife refuses to relinquish her love for the young man, and she’s determined to keep their parental connection alive by inviting their son’s widow and her two children to Oslo. That invitation, sent on the wings of affection and duty, ensnares Gacalo and Mugdi in a complicated kindness that will. . . .
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/entert...
Farah’s new book, “North of Dawn,” places its characters far from flying shrapnel but deep in conflicted grief. Like his previous novel, “Hiding in Plain Sight,” it’s concerned with difficult questions of forgiveness and recovery in the aftermath of violence. The story opens in Oslo, when a Somali diplomat named Mugdi gets word that his only son has blown himself up at the airport in Mogadishu. Mugdi and his wife, Gacalo, suspected their son was radicalized, but news of his death makes it impossible to ignore the truth any longer: They are the parents of a suicide bomber.
Shocked and disgusted, Mugdi wants nothing to do with the memory of his late son. But his wife refuses to relinquish her love for the young man, and she’s determined to keep their parental connection alive by inviting their son’s widow and her two children to Oslo. That invitation, sent on the wings of affection and duty, ensnares Gacalo and Mugdi in a complicated kindness that will. . . .
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/entert...
October 24, 2018
This is the story of an older Somali-Norwegian couple who take in their deceased son's wife and stepchildren, and this story follows these characters as they acclimate to Norway and their new family. This book was tough to rate because on one hand, I enjoyed the story but on the other hand, this novel was written in a way that kept me from finding a rhythm and being fully invested. The language felt convoluted in spots, the POV changed in an instant without warning, and the passage of time in the novel didn't come across as seamlessly as I'd hope. All in all, I'm glad I stuck with it, and as I said it's a good story but I can't help but think of how amazing it could be if written differently.
January 6, 2019
Really more like 3.5 stars (hey, I'm a professor and I like plus and minus grades, though the university where I now teach only allows plus grades, no minuses). Anyway, this is a timely and in many ways a deeply insightful novel about the experiences of Somalian refugees living in Norway. There's a rather large cast of characters (though focused on only several), providing a broad spectrum of the refugee experience, as characters struggle to understand themselves, their pasts, and their places within a country that is not always very welcoming, particularly in age of global terrorism. The focus here is less on Islamic radicalization--though there's some of that--than on what happens to those left behind when fathers, mothers, sons, and/or daughters embrace radical causes. As Farah shows, there's lots of collateral damage.
All of this is fascinating and absorbing, but what pulls the novel down a peg (or a peg-and-a-half) is that often scenes and conversations seem staged simply to get particular historical and political points across. Amidst all the emotional trauma (the strength of the novel), there's also a good deal of preachiness, particularly on how the radical right and the radical fundamentalists are tearing democracies apart, engaged in a war of extremes that leaves those in the middle most victimized. That's Farah's rational and sane perspective, but NORTH OF DAWN would have been a much better novel had Farah allowed that perspective to emerge more organically through the characters' everyday experiences, rather than having the central character repeatedly drive the message home in mini-lectures.
Still, much to like here, much to learn, particularly for readers whose lives are far from the world depicted in the novel.
All of this is fascinating and absorbing, but what pulls the novel down a peg (or a peg-and-a-half) is that often scenes and conversations seem staged simply to get particular historical and political points across. Amidst all the emotional trauma (the strength of the novel), there's also a good deal of preachiness, particularly on how the radical right and the radical fundamentalists are tearing democracies apart, engaged in a war of extremes that leaves those in the middle most victimized. That's Farah's rational and sane perspective, but NORTH OF DAWN would have been a much better novel had Farah allowed that perspective to emerge more organically through the characters' everyday experiences, rather than having the central character repeatedly drive the message home in mini-lectures.
Still, much to like here, much to learn, particularly for readers whose lives are far from the world depicted in the novel.
May 10, 2019
The beginning of the book was very promising, but it didn’t deliver. I don’t know whether this book is a translation or is originally written in English, but the prose was very artificial, especially the dialogues. It was like reading a political essay instead of a novel. The characters were either good or bad, and it didn’t take you beyond a few sentences to figure out which. All the same, the story itself was an engaging one, which is why I finished the book. It deals with vital issues of our present world. I only wish the author refrained from turning certain characters into his mouthpiece and let the events and normal dialogue have their own effect. At times it felt like reading Sophie’s World, with every conversation being carefully devised to teach the reader a lesson.
I couldn’t help comparing this novel with Home Fire. They both deal with Islamophobia, jihadis, and the ensuing havoc amid the families who are torn apart by opposing ideologies and ways of life, but how different they are from one another.
I couldn’t help comparing this novel with Home Fire. They both deal with Islamophobia, jihadis, and the ensuing havoc amid the families who are torn apart by opposing ideologies and ways of life, but how different they are from one another.
January 27, 2019
This is the first novel I've read by Nuruddin Farah, a frequent contender for the Nobel Prize in Literature. A writer from Somalia who now lives in Cape Town, South Africa, his own sister was killed in 2014 when she was murdered along with at least 20 others when the Taliban bombed a restaurant in Kabul. Farah writes fiction about terrorism, and the ravages and scars of it. North of Dawn is about a Somali family, now longtime citizens of Norway, whose children were born and raised in Oslo. When the book opens, Mugdi and Gacalo are facing the impossible - the truth that their son was radicalized, and is a terrorist who has blown himself up. And they must now welcome their dead son's wife and her two children to Oslo, the doing of which will alter their lives. The novel is about many things: the difficulties of assimilation and/or the refusal to assimilate, Somalia's dysfunction, the clash of secular and religious values, the belief that there are two sides of the intolerance coin - isolationism and radicalism. While this is a novel, there is much nonfiction in it, about the history of Somalia, the beliefs about Islam, about Norway, the mass killing of teenagers on the island there, etc. and it is all fascinating and horrifying. A good deal of the history and beliefs takes the form of conversations between the characters, which gives it a graceless, awkward quality. It felt to me that a couple more drafts of the novel to smooth all this out would have done the book good (or been essays). But the characters are intriguing, as is the story, and I kept turning pages despite these weaknesses. I intend to read other novels by him.
February 3, 2019
This novel is overly ambitious. If Mr. Farah had limited himself to the core ideas it would have been less jumbled up at the end. The story begins with parents living in Norway learning their son, who has moved to Somalia, has killed himself in a suicide bombing. The mother has promised her son that she will provide and care for his surviving widow and her son and daughter. The parents move the dead son’s family to Oslo. There the problems begin. The step children of the dead son strive to find their way subsequent to traumatic childhoods. The entire group lives in a place where two groups, Nazi inspired vigilantes and radical jihadists, ultimately victimize those stuck in the middle. The story unfolds with realism until the author seems to lose himself in sub plots. They would have been better off saved for a separate stories. By the end I lost most of my interest. The final lines feel like the fading frequencies that were, at the start, so very strong and interesting. Perhaps that was his point.
February 23, 2019
A very interesting premise, but the flat, stilted dialog and writing ruined this book for me. I can't tell if it's just a really bad translation, which could be the case, as there are constant weird, outmoded English slang and terms (for example, when have you ever heard an English speaker under the age of 100 refer to children as "tykes" ?), and the characters are always going off on strange, stilted tirades that are like annoying lectures, not normal speech. Maybe it's just a reflection of Norwegian or Somali speech patterns, but it makes reading this in English very painful, and ends up making the characters, and thus their stories, feel completely lifeless.
January 11, 2021
2.5 more so, but only because I enjoyed the first half. This book’s premise was really interesting and I think had a lot of potential to be good, but has basically no character development, a timeline that made no sense, switching voice throughout the story, a very heavy handed political message (and it was “extremism is bad”, which is just not very interesting). The way the religious characters were written was even more 2 dimensional than the others, and when major events happened that could’ve made them more interesting, they were totally skipped over. The dialogue was extremely stilted, although that may be a translation thing. Overall enjoyed the first have of the book which felt more like something was going to happen, but the second half was no good.
April 22, 2022
I needed to read a story set in Africa and I wanted to try a new (to me) African author. Nuruddin Farah came up as "recommended" in a key word search, so I located this novel in the local library. Unfortunately, the story was set in Norway. Strange and curious but surprisingly interesting because I was unaware that a Somali-Norwegian association existed.
This is another hard-to-rate book. The style is simple but has the occasional "big " vocabulary, the characters are consistent but wooden and distant, the plot ambled but didn't lose its way despite a few saggy moments. I'm glad to say it ended just right.
My biggest criticisim is feeling that the author wanted to educate his reader about political and cultural information via the characters' dialogues. Their vocabulary was pretty obviously the author's which created an artificial and detached feeling. Nobody talks to each other like academic professors but they often did in this story. Perhaps most irksome, was the vocabulary of the 14-year old boy, Naciim, who had lived in a refugee camp in Kenya with his mother and sister before arriving in Norway. His language, and sometimes his behaviour, was vastly beyond his years. I also didn't understand what was behind the flip-flopping morals of the female charaters, Arla and Waliya.
2 stars for originality and the ending. 3 stars deducted for character credibility, time/plot floppiness, and the feeling of being "educated" rather than entertained.
This is another hard-to-rate book. The style is simple but has the occasional "big " vocabulary, the characters are consistent but wooden and distant, the plot ambled but didn't lose its way despite a few saggy moments. I'm glad to say it ended just right.
My biggest criticisim is feeling that the author wanted to educate his reader about political and cultural information via the characters' dialogues. Their vocabulary was pretty obviously the author's which created an artificial and detached feeling. Nobody talks to each other like academic professors but they often did in this story. Perhaps most irksome, was the vocabulary of the 14-year old boy, Naciim, who had lived in a refugee camp in Kenya with his mother and sister before arriving in Norway. His language, and sometimes his behaviour, was vastly beyond his years. I also didn't understand what was behind the flip-flopping morals of the female charaters, Arla and Waliya.
2 stars for originality and the ending. 3 stars deducted for character credibility, time/plot floppiness, and the feeling of being "educated" rather than entertained.
July 26, 2025
RATW 8: Somalia! 🇸🇴
this whole novel took place in norway? but was a good account of somalian immigration and the racism and religious discrimination that goes along w that! not super intriguing though i fear
this whole novel took place in norway? but was a good account of somalian immigration and the racism and religious discrimination that goes along w that! not super intriguing though i fear
December 9, 2018
What happens to the citizens of a country when the country collapses and is considered a failed state? There are only so many answers, but they all center around survival and belief. Nuruddin Farah, an established Somali writer who resides in South Africa answers this in his latest book North of Dawn.
Mugdi and Gacalo, Norwegian citizens who are originally from Somalia, find they must deal with their son's death by suicide bomb in Somalia. Mugdi disowned his son when he found him to be aligned with terrorists, but Gacalo was unable to do that and instead kept in touch with her son who shortly before his death requested that if something happened to him that she bring his wife and step-children to Norway.
She does that despite Mugdi opposition and they find themselves sponsoring the three refugees:
On the drive to the airport, Mugdi brims over with sadness and not for the first time thinks of himself as a man born to grief, a Somali concerned about the death of a son or the arrival of a widow and her children when he should be sorrowing over the terminal cancer that has infected his nation. He detests Somalia’s dysfunction, unrelenting since 1991, the year the country collapsed after its clan politics had gone awry, and Mogadiscio became a killing field.
With the addition of the widow Waliya, her daughter Saafi and son Naciim we are given the characters who must adapt to their new home and new expectations and mores. Each follows a different path and their relationship with their new country and family is where the story lies.
At times in North of Dawn the reader is given so much detail, that it bogs down a bit and then unexpectedly without foreshadowing the reader is thrown a huge curveball. The writing often feels so placid, that the reader is not given the necessary emotional release.
I particularly enjoyed the characters of Mugdi and Saafi and I suspect that the author may have been more comfortable with them.
I am happy to recommend this book.
Mugdi and Gacalo, Norwegian citizens who are originally from Somalia, find they must deal with their son's death by suicide bomb in Somalia. Mugdi disowned his son when he found him to be aligned with terrorists, but Gacalo was unable to do that and instead kept in touch with her son who shortly before his death requested that if something happened to him that she bring his wife and step-children to Norway.
She does that despite Mugdi opposition and they find themselves sponsoring the three refugees:
On the drive to the airport, Mugdi brims over with sadness and not for the first time thinks of himself as a man born to grief, a Somali concerned about the death of a son or the arrival of a widow and her children when he should be sorrowing over the terminal cancer that has infected his nation. He detests Somalia’s dysfunction, unrelenting since 1991, the year the country collapsed after its clan politics had gone awry, and Mogadiscio became a killing field.
With the addition of the widow Waliya, her daughter Saafi and son Naciim we are given the characters who must adapt to their new home and new expectations and mores. Each follows a different path and their relationship with their new country and family is where the story lies.
At times in North of Dawn the reader is given so much detail, that it bogs down a bit and then unexpectedly without foreshadowing the reader is thrown a huge curveball. The writing often feels so placid, that the reader is not given the necessary emotional release.
I particularly enjoyed the characters of Mugdi and Saafi and I suspect that the author may have been more comfortable with them.
I am happy to recommend this book.
December 27, 2018
Why is the dialogue in Farah's novels so stiltedly formal? Is it based on Somali (and also, in this case, Norwegian) speech patterns? Is it a kind of alienation effect, reminding us that these are authorial creations, a set of points of view put into conversation with each other? But they certainly draw us in nonetheless. I enjoyed this book far, far more than I did Hiding in Plain Sight. For me, there's far more dramatic tension, and it's a much more interesting investigation of the politics and psychology of migration--and nation. The central tenet of the work is that the vast majority of people are caught between the mirrored extremes of jihadists and the racist far right--but of course people like the Somali-Norwegians at the center of this story are among the most vulnerable.
December 25, 2018
As another reviewer put it, this book was a "mildly interesting novel". That pretty much sums it up for me. I don't regret reading the book (spending the time) but I'm not sure I'd recommend it to others. It felt, at times, like I was reading snippets from this or that character's life but there was no cohesive story line. At times, when it felt like the story might be leading to a suspenseful moment, that moment was gone and not really spoken of again. It just didn't feel like a well knit, purposefully interconnected story. It just kinda fell flat for me. Not a page turner. Not a great read. Just ok.
March 7, 2019
Nurrudin Farah has been mentioned as a potential Nobel Prize winner, so I was surprised at how readable and entertaining this book was. Farah explores issues of immigration, fundamentalism and acculturation through the story of a sophisticated Somali couple, 20-year citizens of Norway, who take in their daughter-in-law and grandchildren after their son dies as a suicide bomber. Several characters were a bit sketchily drawn, but overall, I enjoyed the book and found it well worth reading.
December 24, 2018
1.5 stars
A mildly interesting novel about Somalian asylum seekers' settlement into Norwegian society. It was bogged down with so much mundane detail and Mugdi seemed to have such an immense loathing for his daughter-in-law and her children up until Naciim and Saafi conformed to his standards. The writing was quite flat and detached.
A mildly interesting novel about Somalian asylum seekers' settlement into Norwegian society. It was bogged down with so much mundane detail and Mugdi seemed to have such an immense loathing for his daughter-in-law and her children up until Naciim and Saafi conformed to his standards. The writing was quite flat and detached.
January 10, 2019
Nuruddin Farah is a celebrated Somali novelist who is often mentioned as a contender for the Nobel Prize for Literature. He frequently writes about the effects and costs of terrorism in today's world and when he does, he speaks from personal experience. His sister, who was a nutritionist working for UNICEF, was murdered along with at least 20 others in a bomb attack by the Taliban on a restaurant in Kabul 2014.
Despite his fame in the literary world, I was unacquainted with him before reading this book. I saw a review of it several weeks ago and was fascinated. I immediately added it to my reading queue.
Farah's protagonists here are far away from the centers of terrorism in the 21st century. They are an expatriate Somali couple, Mugdi and Gacalo, living in Oslo. Mugdi had been an ambassador for Somalia in Norway back when Somalia was a recognizable and organized country. When the country tore itself apart in civil war and descended into chaos, they became part of the Somali diaspora and sought refuge in Norway, eventually becoming citizens.
This all happened back in the 1990s and Mugdi and Gacalo, along with their son and daughter, made a comfortable life for themselves in Oslo. But their Norwegian-raised son, in his years of rebellion, joined a radical Islamic cell in Oslo and eventually fled to Somalia to pursue jihad. He became involved with the terrorist organization Al Shabaab and assisted in several terrorist attacks. Eventually, he blew himself up in a suicide attack in Mogadishu.
Mugdi is shocked and disgusted by news of his son's activities and his manner of dying. He wants nothing to do with his memory and says, " How can I mourn a son who caused the death of so many innocent people? I explode into rage every time I remember what he did."
For Gacalo though, her son is still her son, regardless of what he did and she had made a promise to him that if he should die, she would take care of his wife and his two stepchildren. She honors that commitment and makes arrangements to bring them to Oslo.
The widow, Waliya, is a devout Muslim, although she had not always been so observant. Mugdi and Gacalo are cultural but not practicing Muslims. Clashes seem inevitable.
The two stepchildren, a boy and a girl, are twelve and fourteen years old when they arrive. Though Mugdi and Gacalo have a prickly relationship with the mother, they become loving grandparents to these two traumatized children.
The war between Mugdi/Gacalo and Waliya is a stand-in, a model, of the global clash between fundamentalism and secularism. Farah writes of this relationship in intimate and nuanced terms. The result is an incisive and withering portrait of a family soap opera. In revealing how a family falls apart, he gives us a representative of how the nation falls apart. It is a powerful story.
Unfortunately, the prose here does not rise to the level of the story that is being told. It is often clunky and less than graceful. There's no indication that the book was translated and so I assume it was written in English but the language often seems clumsy and filled with cliches. Moreover, the dialogue given the various characters, particularly the teenagers, frequently seems dissonant with unlikely phrasing.
Initially, I thought to rate the book at four stars because it is an interesting story with well-developed characters, but the more I thought about it, the more I was bothered by that clunky writing. So, three stars it is.
Nevertheless, it was a worthwhile read with its view of how the families of violent jihadists are affected by that member's actions. It is perhaps something that we don't often consider, but they, too, can be victims.
Despite his fame in the literary world, I was unacquainted with him before reading this book. I saw a review of it several weeks ago and was fascinated. I immediately added it to my reading queue.
Farah's protagonists here are far away from the centers of terrorism in the 21st century. They are an expatriate Somali couple, Mugdi and Gacalo, living in Oslo. Mugdi had been an ambassador for Somalia in Norway back when Somalia was a recognizable and organized country. When the country tore itself apart in civil war and descended into chaos, they became part of the Somali diaspora and sought refuge in Norway, eventually becoming citizens.
This all happened back in the 1990s and Mugdi and Gacalo, along with their son and daughter, made a comfortable life for themselves in Oslo. But their Norwegian-raised son, in his years of rebellion, joined a radical Islamic cell in Oslo and eventually fled to Somalia to pursue jihad. He became involved with the terrorist organization Al Shabaab and assisted in several terrorist attacks. Eventually, he blew himself up in a suicide attack in Mogadishu.
Mugdi is shocked and disgusted by news of his son's activities and his manner of dying. He wants nothing to do with his memory and says, " How can I mourn a son who caused the death of so many innocent people? I explode into rage every time I remember what he did."
For Gacalo though, her son is still her son, regardless of what he did and she had made a promise to him that if he should die, she would take care of his wife and his two stepchildren. She honors that commitment and makes arrangements to bring them to Oslo.
The widow, Waliya, is a devout Muslim, although she had not always been so observant. Mugdi and Gacalo are cultural but not practicing Muslims. Clashes seem inevitable.
The two stepchildren, a boy and a girl, are twelve and fourteen years old when they arrive. Though Mugdi and Gacalo have a prickly relationship with the mother, they become loving grandparents to these two traumatized children.
The war between Mugdi/Gacalo and Waliya is a stand-in, a model, of the global clash between fundamentalism and secularism. Farah writes of this relationship in intimate and nuanced terms. The result is an incisive and withering portrait of a family soap opera. In revealing how a family falls apart, he gives us a representative of how the nation falls apart. It is a powerful story.
Unfortunately, the prose here does not rise to the level of the story that is being told. It is often clunky and less than graceful. There's no indication that the book was translated and so I assume it was written in English but the language often seems clumsy and filled with cliches. Moreover, the dialogue given the various characters, particularly the teenagers, frequently seems dissonant with unlikely phrasing.
Initially, I thought to rate the book at four stars because it is an interesting story with well-developed characters, but the more I thought about it, the more I was bothered by that clunky writing. So, three stars it is.
Nevertheless, it was a worthwhile read with its view of how the families of violent jihadists are affected by that member's actions. It is perhaps something that we don't often consider, but they, too, can be victims.
March 4, 2019
I loved this one! The story was very well told, the writing is superb! I was engaged with the characters throughout! I did however, feel that the ending was a bit rushed, and it would have fit better in the middle of the story, rather than the ending. The ending ramped up another side storyline that I found interesting, but it literally only lasted for the last 10 pages or so. Other than that, this was just great!!!
January 6, 2019
I officially started reading this book this week. I couldn’t put it down, I was so enthralled.
July 25, 2020
*3.5 stars // I enjoyed this book, but am not satisfied with the ending
December 26, 2018
To begin with, I have a problem with using "right-wing" as a synonym for "bigot". It's especially jarring in a book meant to show that "Muslim" and "terrorist" are not the same. Farah is correct to state that most of the problems arise from small groups of extremists opposing each other, so he (or his translator) should be more careful with language.
My second problem with this book is that although it deals with Norwegians and Somalians, there is almost no sense of place - Oslo could be anywhere - or of culture, either African or Scandinavian.
And finally, there is a rule that if a gun appears in Act I, it has to reappear before the end of the play. Farah is clearly setting up a dramatic climax, and then it doesn't happen. The book ends, the appendix ties up some, but not all, of the loose ends, and we are left wondering. So unsatisfying.
My second problem with this book is that although it deals with Norwegians and Somalians, there is almost no sense of place - Oslo could be anywhere - or of culture, either African or Scandinavian.
And finally, there is a rule that if a gun appears in Act I, it has to reappear before the end of the play. Farah is clearly setting up a dramatic climax, and then it doesn't happen. The book ends, the appendix ties up some, but not all, of the loose ends, and we are left wondering. So unsatisfying.
January 16, 2019
I really wanted to like this one, I did. I kept looking for a reason for the artificiality of the dialogue, the lack of characterization, the ploddingness of the execution. Couldn't find one. The premise is great.
January 27, 2019
North of Dawn was a fascinating read about a Somali husband and wife living in Norway whose son killed himself and many others in a suicide terrorist bombing in Somalia. Although they have conflicting emotions over their son's death, they bring their son's widow and her two children to take refuge in Oslo. The writing seemed somewhat formal and removed, but yet it was very compelling. I couldn't stop reading and was very glad to have the opportunity to discuss North of Dawn in book club.
One of the questions the author posed was -- Why is it that when there is a mass murder committed by a native European (the story takes place in Oslo, Norway), every attempt is made to prove the murderer was mentally ill, but when a radical Muslim kills many, it's blamed on the religion? He makes the point that this could be mental illness as well.
The story was quite sad in many ways, but very interesting and thought-provoking. Chilling ending. While I caution the potential reader that the writing is somewhat formal and disconnected from feelings, I have to recommend this book as a page-turner that really makes you think. Definitely recommend.
One of the questions the author posed was -- Why is it that when there is a mass murder committed by a native European (the story takes place in Oslo, Norway), every attempt is made to prove the murderer was mentally ill, but when a radical Muslim kills many, it's blamed on the religion? He makes the point that this could be mental illness as well.
The story was quite sad in many ways, but very interesting and thought-provoking. Chilling ending. While I caution the potential reader that the writing is somewhat formal and disconnected from feelings, I have to recommend this book as a page-turner that really makes you think. Definitely recommend.
July 16, 2022
En intressant historia som nästan är oläslig pga hur den är skriven. Huruvida detta beror på författaren eller en inkompetent översättare är naturligtvis omöjligt att veta, men dialogen känns tung och onaturlig, historien hoppig och bitvis osammanhängande, och vissa scener hänger helt enkelt inte ihop alls.
Ett exempel när Gacalo ska begravas: "Himmo, Kaluun, Timiro med Riyo i sele på ryggen /.../ får en första glimt av Gacalo i moskéns förrum. Eugenia, Johan och Birgitta stannar hemma /.../för att någon måste se till Riyo." Så var är då Riyo? I en sele på sin mammas rygg eller hemma med de tre andra? Båda två kan rimligtvis inte vara sanna vid samma tillfälle.
På ett annat ställe i boken är Tamiro rasande för att hennes far pratat med hennes blivande exman som varit i Oslo utan att berätta det för henne. Händelsen där exmannen är i Oslo och pratar med hennes far inträffar flera kapitel senare. Är det två händelser? Eller är ordningen bara fel?
Ett exempel när Gacalo ska begravas: "Himmo, Kaluun, Timiro med Riyo i sele på ryggen /.../ får en första glimt av Gacalo i moskéns förrum. Eugenia, Johan och Birgitta stannar hemma /.../för att någon måste se till Riyo." Så var är då Riyo? I en sele på sin mammas rygg eller hemma med de tre andra? Båda två kan rimligtvis inte vara sanna vid samma tillfälle.
På ett annat ställe i boken är Tamiro rasande för att hennes far pratat med hennes blivande exman som varit i Oslo utan att berätta det för henne. Händelsen där exmannen är i Oslo och pratar med hennes far inträffar flera kapitel senare. Är det två händelser? Eller är ordningen bara fel?
June 30, 2019
Told with such a straight-forward style in all ways--especially the dialogue--I kept waiting for this to take a dramatic (or at least melo-) turn.
While most of the exciting action takes place either before the narration begins or off-camera (if you will), the exploration of the immigrant experience in northern Europe in light of extremist fundamentalists in the host countries and in the Muslim world was fascinating.
While most of the exciting action takes place either before the narration begins or off-camera (if you will), the exploration of the immigrant experience in northern Europe in light of extremist fundamentalists in the host countries and in the Muslim world was fascinating.
January 29, 2023
Mugdi and Gacalo are Somalis living in Oslo. They have lived there for years. Now their son's widow and children are moving to Oslo. How will they assimilate? Will they take on their stepfather's extremist views?
This is a slow but moving story of cultures, extremists (both Jihadi and skin head), and family. The characters are well written. Tensions rise and fall through out the book but never leave totally. I want to read more by the author, who is a well known Somali author.
This is a slow but moving story of cultures, extremists (both Jihadi and skin head), and family. The characters are well written. Tensions rise and fall through out the book but never leave totally. I want to read more by the author, who is a well known Somali author.
January 7, 2024
3.5 probably interesting to me mostly because of the work I do, as it focuses on re settlement in Norway. Slow for the average reader. But the characters are lovable and the conversations and topics very interesting! Presents an interesting perspective on radicalism that I work could perpetuate some right wing ideas if taken out of context.
July 6, 2020
Det tog ett tag för mig att trivas med Farahs berättarteknik. Boken är skriven i presens, nästan som ett manus. Men sedan blev jag förtjust i författarens lågmält observerande ton och sveptes med i Mugdis och Gacalos berättelse. Den stora behållningen att få vara med om hur karaktärerna utövar tolerans, ödmjukhet och nyfikenhet och var gränsen för dessa goda egenskaper går.
November 8, 2025
En gripende og vanskelig historie om innvandringsproblematikk, radikalisering og fremmedfrykt.
skrivestil til forfatteren er rimelig spesielt og gjorde det hele litt vanskelig for meg å få helt fatt i hovedpersonene
skrivestil til forfatteren er rimelig spesielt og gjorde det hele litt vanskelig for meg å få helt fatt i hovedpersonene
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