It is New Year's Eve, 1960. Hashim has left behind his homeland and his bride, Munira, to seek his fortune in England. His cousin and only friend, Rofikul, introduces Hashim to life in Manchester - including Rofikul's girlfriend, Helen. When Munira arrives, the group must learn what it is to be a family.
Over the next twenty years, they make their way in the new country - putting down roots and building a home. But when war breaks out in East Pakistan, the struggle for liberation and the emergence of Bangladesh raises questions about identity, belonging and loyalty.
Hashim & Family is a story of family ties, of migration and of a connection to home, and is the debut of an extraordinary new talent.
Set in 1960in Manchester the book covers a couple of decades and generations of a family. Hashim leaves East Pakistan to live in Manchester. His plan is to live there for five years and to send money home to his family. Hashim lives with his cousin, Rofikul has been in this country for a few years. Hashim eventually brings his wife over to live.
This is a story about immigration and how they adapted to their new lives. The book covers the atrocities of Bangladesh. These parts were quite hard to read. The story also covers the violence the immigrants faced in this country. The characters are all likeable. This is a well written, heartwarming and heartbreaking story.
I would like to thank NetGalley, John Murray Press and the author Shahnaz Ahsam for my ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I read this book due to its shortlisting for the 2020 Guardian Not The Booker Prize: having nearly qualified via the Public vote it was the bookshop selection.
The book is the story of Hashim, who, newly married to Munira, leaves East Pakistan in late 1960 to join his cousin Rokiful in Manchester. The confident, almost brash Rokiful was something of a pioneer in Bengali immigrants to Manchester, but to the shy and traditional Hashim seems to have rather downplayed his family responsibilities at home, and his Islamic faith to embrace the English life – drinking and taking an white girlfriend: Helen who has left her own Irish immigrant family as soon as she hit seventeen.
Soon Hashim is joined by Munira. Munira, a well-educated, independent girl, strikes a friendship with Helen and the four and later their children (respectively) form an tight unit. When Hashim, encouraged by Munira, buys the corner shop in which he works, and finally gets the confidence to rename it, this extended family gives the name both to the shop and the book (the cover of the book rather neatly being a reproduction of the shop sign).
Much more than this is hard to explain without spoilers, but the characters face tensions both internally generated (as family responsibility proves impossible for one to face; while for another it realigns the role they would naturally take; for another it gives them a sense of what was missing from their own childhood; and for another a quite sense of completeness and happiness); and externally generated (due to pernicious societal racism – at both an individual and institutional level over many years).
In many ways this is I think a fairly classic immigrant tale – perhaps made most distinctive and worthwhile by its detailed and knowledgeable examination of a particular immigrant group, perhaps less covered in literary fiction than some others. The book in this sense, in my view, forms a close analogy to the Women’s Prize shortlisted “Dominicana”.
What though really distinguishes it is a searing passage set in East Pakistan/Bangladesh in the events from the outbreak of Civil War to the declaration of independence. In contrast to the rather gentle and sympathetic form of the sections set in English – where even the sessions dealing with overt racism focus more on the dignity of the victims, the strength and courage of those organising resistance and the zeal of those assisting them – this section turns an unflinching gaze on the atrocities of the Pakistan army which are laid out in brutal and uncompromising form.
Whether this juxtaposition quite works I am not so sure – at times it can feel like two books and it’s at best a brave choice by the author to have it recounted by a character whose thoughts we had previously not known and for who we have very little sympathy. However I think the rather split nature of the book also captures the split nature of the immigrant experience, as captured by the Tagore Epigraph to the novel, with concerns and ties both in their adopted country and in their homeland (particularly for the Bengalis with their powerful concept of desh).
There were I felt a few missed notes: an observant reader could already guess at the book’s major revelation, without the clunky device of a hovering pen; and the character of Joy seemed underdeveloped (her birthday on the day that Bangladesh gained independence, I will take as a Rushdie tribute rather than being derivative of Midnight’s Children).
Overall, however, a worthwhile read. 3.5 rounded up.
This is a debut novel by a daughter of immigrants Bangladesh parents and it is based on their own story. Two young men come to the UK, specifically to Manchester. They lived ina shared house for months and Hashim brings his wife over to join him. She settles in well and befriends Helen who is going out with Rofukil .
The story tells of how Hashim and family settle into their lives in Manchester. Rofukil however, returns to Bangladesh and has journalistic ambitions coming from Bangladesh's fight for freedom from Pakistan as well as other secrets.
The story is about loyalty, friendship and becoming part of a community in another country.
It is well written and interesting but I felt the Bangladesh element of the story lacked depth. I am interested to see if the author writes further novels.
This is in many ways a gentle book, yet it is in others a novel that shows brutality and intolerance at their very core. This is a strange wall to straddle but at the very heart of this story, it works. When Hashim comes to England in the 1960’s, he had a clear goal in mind. He plans to stay for no more than five years: to work and send much needed money back home or ‘dish’. It doesn’t occur to him that he might bring his bride to this strange country or that he might make a home and a family of his own in Britain. That’s what happens though and so we are treated to a tale that crosses generations and can perhaps make us question what it is that makes Britain ‘great’.
This is a tale of family; both of blood and that of friendship. A young man comes to England to make something of himself and instead learns much of himself instead. But Hashim and Family is exactly that; it is a novel that interweaves family ties. Some we choose, some are all but forced upon us; some we accept, some we run from. It is a novel that confronts the harsher edges of culture; the rise of nationalism, of those with a different coloured skin feeling afraid to leave their homes alone. Ahsan doesn’t spare us the details of young men beaten and prosecuted simply for the sin of looking different. But they don’t stint on the intricacies of a loving home either. It is a tale of two halves; of inclusion and exclusion, of faith and hard graft, of hatred and forgiveness.
Where it falls down is in the sudden shifts between places. The first time seems natural; you follow Hashim from Bangladesh to England and you stay there for a good thirty percent of the novel. Then you are hammered back to Bangladesh with a character you have little sympathy for, one you barely know by this point. It’s an awkward and bumpy transition, particularly when you are then forced into the wartime politics and atrocities of the time and region. The melding of the two places and cultures is done far more smoothly in the following narratives, but it is that initial culture shock that knocks this down from stunning to very, very good. The story there is powerful, but too much was lost simply because the reader hadn’t had a chance to acclimatise.
You already dislike the character and then suddenly you are thrust into politics that the average English reader has no prior knowledge of. They are important and Ahsan explains them well, but the power is lost. By the time you are made to care again, it is all more or less over. There is huge potential here to become something spectacular and I feel it has been missed by inches. Some scenes will stay with me, haunting in their tragedy and power, but they are scenes. The ‘interlude’ fails to become part of the whole and it really, really deserves to be in exactly that whole. It’s therefore a shame that when you come back to the narrative in England it feels like coming home. It shouldn’t and it doesn’t later. Later both places feel like home and Ahsan comes to the fore with their writing once more.
This is four solid stars and it really could have been five without question. Thanks need to go NetGalley and the publishers for my free copy of this novel. I believe this author can go far and I will definitely look out for further publications.
At once gentle and brutal, this novel depicts a tale of migration and violence, and the struggle for belonging, of one family spanning two countries. The novel begins with the arrival of Hashim from East Pakistan to Manchester in 1960, and what follows is a heartwarming depiction of the homes and roots built with his wife Munira, his cousin Rofikul, and their friend Helen.
The epigraph, an excerpt from Tagore’s poem ‘Probashi’— ‘My home belongs in every home; I am tired of searching for it. My country belongs in every country; I will struggle to find it.’ — perfectly captures the parallel struggles that play out in this book. The novel ambitiously alternates between the racial violence experienced by immigrant communities in England and the warmth of Hashim’s close-knit circle of family and friends, versus the much larger scale of rapidly unravelling ethnic conflict and state violence in East Pakistan/Bangladesh. But this is a contrast that often seems overstretched rather than a seamless transition between split narratives, and gives the author little opportunity to develop the full potential of each character in the second half of the novel. Although we begin with an intimate portrayal of our titular character Hashim, his development eventually pans out to be surface-level as the novel progresses, whilst the abrupt reintroduction of Rofikul’s storyline, who’s life-changing choices profoundly impact the course of his family’s life, reads as a forced intrusion into the plot-line.
The novel was partly influenced by the stories of migration and war the author’s family had shared with her, and in this sense does not pose a particularly unique departure from other established tales of immigration in Britain. However, it does navigate away from the generic narratives of British-Bangladeshi stories commonly set in London’s East End rather than Northern England, and sheds light on an otherwise overlooked aspect of South Asian history— aspects that ultimately make the novel worth reading.
“She felt him in his absence, every pinprick of grief a homage to the time they had had together. She was starting to settle into it, wearing the cocoon of loss as a comfort, in some ways - a mantle of memory that she warmed herself in.”
First of all, let me tell you that I absolutely adored this book! I find it very hard to believe that this is Shahnaz’s debut novel. It is extremely intricate, endearing and beyond beautiful. It is perhaps one of the best books I’ve read in a long longgg time!!
The book begins as Hashim leaves his home in East Pakistan and joins his cousin Rofikul in the UK. We follow them and their families for the next twenty years or so, as they grapple with love, loss, identity, racism, nationalism… Shahnaz’s depiction of the creation of Bangladesh is honest and powerful and poignant.
I am struggling to accurately describe this book. It packs so many heavy themes like Partition and racism, yet they never overpower the characters and their lives. Essentially, it is a book about love, heartbreak and identity - in all their various forms. It is certainly a highly ambitious novel with a lot of components, but Shahnaz ties them all seamlessly. The writing seems simple but it will settle into your heart and you won’t be able to put the book down. It is so immersive that I absolutely did not want the book to ever end. Can’t possibly recommend this enough.
Eagerly waiting for Shahnaz to come out with another novel!
PS This book was shortlisted for The Guardian’s ‘Not the Booker Prize 2020’
It is 1960 and Hashim has left East Pakistan and his family to seek employment and a new life in England. His first cousin, Rofikul, is in Manchester and introduces him to life there and helps him settle down. He meets Rofikul's friends and eventually his girlfriend, Helen as well. Eventually, Rofikul convinces him to bring his wife, Munira, to England.
The next two decades are a story of how their lives stay connected and separated in a foreign country. They realize the importance of family, friends, and love, but most important of all, they realize the importance of their own identity. As war wages in their homeland and East Pakistan becomes Bangladesh, they understand the meaning of freedom while living in a country whose citizens refuse to accept them.
Absolutely loved this book, even though it was extremely painful to read at times—the descriptions of rape and war, and how men, women, and children alike were affected in the 1971 war was extremely heartbreaking. Makes you realize how we often reduce wars to facts and numbers and remove the human element. Also the atrocities carried out by the army were indescribable and horrifying to read—even though this was a fictional story, it was a reality for a lot of Bengali people.
It is definitely a must read for people who like reading fictional stories about immigrants. Been a long time since I loved a South Asian fiction so much. Definitely recommended.
Hashim arrives in Manchester on New Year’s Eve in 1960, intent on making some money before returning to his new wife, Munira, in East Pakistan. He has been persuaded by his cousin Rofikul to move to the UK and he is like a fish out of water when he first arrives. Rofikul meets him off the train and introduces him to his somewhat chaotic life which includes a flat which was already over-crowded before Hashim moved in and an Irish girlfriend called Helen. Hashim is soon fitted out with clothes which are more suited to a British winter and starts work at the factory in which Rofikul works. This book is all about these four characters and the ways in which they adapt to their changing environment over the next 20 years as East Pakistan becomes Bangladesh and Britain becomes home.
I thought this was a fabulous book. It was very easy and enjoyable to read, incorporated humour and had a cast of characters who were interesting and, in most cases, endearing. It was also terribly informative. I learnt so much about both Bangladesh and about what it is like to be an immigrant in the UK - neither very good in many ways. I am ashamed to say that I knew very little about Bangladesh before reading this book (I would have struggled to tell you that Bangladesh became East Pakistan) and am even more ashamed to be confronted with the reality of our behaviour towards those people who come to the UK and help us out in so many ways. The book tackles all sorts of big issues such as migration, immigration, racism, cultural identity, friendship and the concept of “home. They are all approached sensitively and are such an integral part of the novel that it doesn’t feel as though we are being lectured, just informed as we are entertained.
My only criticism is that the book is a little too fast-paced at times, moving through time at an alarming rate, sometimes between one paragraph and the next.
Firstly I would like to thank Shahnaz Ahsan for writing a great book and secondly, I would like to recommend that everybody reads it! It really is worth it.
I really enjoyed this enveloping saga by Shahnaz Ahsan, loosely based on the experience of her grandparents who migrated from then East Pakistan to England. The story concerns four main characters: Hashim, who is green about the gills when he first arrives in Manchester, his more savvy cousin Rofikul, Rofikul's Irish girlfriend Helen who gets together with him after he and Hashim are beaten up in a racist attack, and Hashim's wife Munira, whom he marries back at home and hopes to bring over later.
As the decades pass and England changes, Hashim, Helen, Munira and Rofikul all live through history in their new land - there are many poignant observations about "the pain of migration" - as well as increasing upheaval in their old. This section, in the middle of the story, is where Rofikul plays a role. He is a complex character - his actions in one way are deeply morally questionable and make him a bit unlikeable, but in another way he is a deeply earnest, committed agent of reform. I'm inclined to say "he's cancelled" - but I feel that's unfair. The war was something I was ignorant of, though I knew Mountbatten made a pig's dinner of Indian partition, and the details were grimly enlightening.
I do like how the reunion at the end of the book is not depicted in a fairy tale fashion - the characters experience their fair share of tragedy and hard knocks, but for the most part survive, and move on to the future. I loved the feeling of a story unfolding at its leisure, from the sniping of Helen's mother at her father's funeral to the endless meddling of Munira in everything being balanced out by her fierce loyalty and determination. The detail of the cultural norms affecting every action was interesting too and added depth to the story.
----after this is a rant. But I warmly recommend this book, it is like a lovely, spicy soup :)
On a less pleasant note, what the hell were the Irish Times playing at when they published this review of the book? It reads like a gigantic, prolonged sniff at a debut novel by a woman of colour - a sniff that is undeserved. "A pity it delivers nothing new," sneers the reviewer before adding, "There is, throughout the novel, the projection of an essentially English subjectivity on each of the characters therein. This feels reductive." This bald assertion, no examples given.
WTF. Lest we be in any doubt of what she means, the (white) reviewer spells it out: "They are all, in short, to a greater or lesser extent [jesus she repeats herself - SL] liberal feminists, without any hint of in-built racial bias" and the story is "utterly traditional". Basically, they're too nice and she is not expecting Bangadeshi migrants to be "striving for good". This is not only racist AF, it's also a genre dog whistle - "traditional" stories, the stories *I* write, the stories Ahsan presumably writes, are not literary, because they are not "experimental" - when this experimental stuff is actually derivative boil-off of actual storytelling, done less aptly and less well.
Then she tops it off by hinting that the novel is inferior to *Bridget Jones* of all books - a fine comedy novel in a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT GENRE. And the comment about Rofikul being "a less charming, less believable Daniel Cleaver" - is utterly cheap. And *wrong*. Rofikul is as I said above, a complex character. His role bears no resemblance to Cleaver's in Bridget Jones. I feel like I'm reading a Department of Agriculture SQL data statement about "null cows".
Whatever the hell is wrong with that paper's literary section - and I've really given up on it, though there are many fine journalists working in other parts - the absolute hell with this review and the Head Girls who write half-redigested crap like this. Especially as the same reviewer went on to slag off *another* POC debut novel barely a week later.
Like many others, I didn't want to say goodbye to these characters when the book ended! I loved the way Ahsan wove the stories of each character together, artfully introducing themes of race, migration, and gender. I was struck by the way Hashim, Murina, Joy, Helen and Adam made such a tight knit and loyal family, despite being brought together in such a "nontypical" way. I highly recommend this book as a glimpse into the past and a reminder of previous manifestations of issues we're struggling with today, e.g. racism, nationalism.
“It is New Year's Eve, 1960. Hashim has left behind his homeland and his bride, Munira, to seek his fortune in England. His cousin and only friend, Rofikul, introduces Hashim to life in Manchester - including Rofikul's girlfriend, Helen. When Munira arrives, the group must learn what it is to be a family. Over the next twenty years, they make their way in the new country - putting down roots and building a home. But when war breaks out in East Pakistan, the struggle for liberation and the emergence of Bangladesh raises questions about identity, belonging and loyalty. Hashim & Family is a story of family ties, of migration and of a connection to home, and is the debut of an extraordinary new talent.”
NO SPOILERS
Hashim and Family is not an in-depth, insightful study of the difficulties encountered by immigrants when beginning a new life somewhere unknown - the casual and organised racism, the fear of getting it wrong, of making a mark but being inconspicuous. It is simply the tale of Hashim, who came to Britain in 1961, and the following twenty years. The difficulties faced are written about, as they were, and sadly still are, a part of everyday life, but we are given little insight into the feelings of those involved and I found there to be little empathy for the characters. But this is not “that” book and is by no means the poorer for it.
It is not wordy or crafted but is a quick, easy and enjoyable read. A concise family saga with ups and downs, tears and laughter.
As the daughter of a white English mother and an Asian/Caribbean father, who came this country a few years before this story begins, I was looking forward to reading Ahsan’s debut novel. I did feel, however, that the tales told seemed detached, as if told by a friend of a friend of a friend. Perhaps I am too close to the subject matter to be objective.
Thank you to NetGalley and John Murray Press for the Advanced Reader Copy of the book, which I have voluntarily reviewed.
Amazing when your childhood years are considered history, way to age me ;-) However it was that sense of having lived through the time that made this book feel so real to me. Its horribly accurate in the casual racism of the day, that was just accepted by both sides. A few people railed against it but to what purpose, when there were not going to be huge changes. I remember back in the early seventies when I met my husband, how difficult it was to find somewhere to live, to find employment simply because his surname Zelos indicated a foreigner, and back then there was no legislation against discrimination. We'd go to ask about a flat and it would go well until names were mentioned, and then suddenly it was just a straight No. Actually Charles looked more English that me, I've dark brown hair and eyes and always have a tanned skin appearance while he, the half Greek, was a typical English burns-easily skin, light hair, light eyes. It was that familiarity with events that made this a bittersweet read. Even when we as a nation needed workers, exhorted people to come here to live and work we still considered them “lesser”, still didn't exactly welcome them. Pretty shameful eh?
I loved the characters, Hashim, such a solid, reliable, dutiful man who adores his wife, she's a conundrum, married very young but with a fierce intelligence and drive, and that worked well for her and Hashim. They were perfect for each other. And yet life still throws in horrors and sadness. Rofikul, Hashim's cousin, had been in Britain for a while and seemed to have fully immersed himself in the life here, even having an Irish girlfriend. Helen had a hard childhood and escaped as soon as she could, and after she saw the boys being beaten in a racist attack she comes to their aid, and she and Rofikul begin a relationship. It always feels though that Helen wants more, is defending their love, when her friends look a little askance at her relationship with a “Darkie”, whereas Rofikul doesn't seem to feel the same. I felt he loved Helen, but he was a bit of an adventurer, not a planner but went with the flow, and liked to be ready for the next change. Unlike Hashim who adored his wife, and threw himself into settling here properly, Rofikul just felt different. Then he does something I hated, couldn't forgive.
As well as the boys time in Britain there's a huge chunk where Rofikul is back home in East Pakistan, and though I enjoyed reading about that, it felt somewhat disconnected from the part where they were in Britain. Even there I found it hard to understand Rofikul's actions, I'd have been asking questions but I guess it really is cultural differences. Overall it felt almost like two books joined by characters. I was really sad at parts of the ending and yet also it felt right, very true to life. Its not a story I'd read again, but is one I enjoyed overall, although I did skim read parts that felt a bit dull to me.
Stars: Three, an interesting reach though at times the book felt a little disconnected in events.
First generation Bangladeshi immigrant experiences in Britain, and experiences of the war of independence in 1971 aren’t something that most readers will have come across, especially as the birth of Bangladesh is often swallowed up in the wider narrative of the Partition of India. But the depictions in this book are eye-opening as well as being insightful.
In her beautifully-written debut, Shahnaz Ahsan has successfully evoked what life was like for Bangladeshis in Britain during this period. The sense of community between some, the prejudices of others, the streets and villages of Bangladesh during its war of independence.
But the triumph of this book has to be its characters. They are multi-dimensional, honestly drawn, and so full of life that I felt as if I knew them personally by the end. Munira’s intelligence, Helen’s compassion, Hashim’s devotion to his family, and Rofikul’s independence, were all the things that kept me rooting for them. Even when Ahsan paints her characters’ flaws – and at least one of them (I won’t give it away) does something pretty near unforgivable – I couldn’t bring myself to hate them.
The book is well-researched with the portrayal of Manchester in the 1960s, its casual racism and the difficulties of immigrants adjusting to everyday life, convincingly painted on the page. But Ahsan also takes us to war-torn Bangladesh in a stark and sobering account of the ravages of the conflict of 1971, in which she captures the feelings of fear and tension in the city of Dhaka. It’s an important section for allowing – at least partial – understanding of one of the characters’ actions. It makes for uncomfortable reading at times, and challenges the sense of warmth and security that Ahsan has carefully created for us in the previous chapters. As a result, some readers may find this switch of location jarring with the rest of the narrative, but to me it was a clever way of conveying the sense of being unsettled and thrust into confusion in a country at war – even one that the character in question might have thought of as home.
So where exactly IS home? Is it the building we dwell in day-to-day? Or is it where we’re born? Or where we’ve grown up or spent most of our lives? Or perhaps it’s where we’ve chosen to settle and carve out an existence for ourselves, from the bottom up, building a life brick by metaphorical brick. It’s the main question in Hashim & Family and will have you pondering over it after you’ve finished the last page.
This is story of two immigrant cousins from Bangladesh who come to Manchester but for me, the book doesnt hang together well.
The character's are under-developed, Hashim is too ponderous and 'pure' - does he not have a single querk or fault? And Rofikul- he seems more like a device to take the reader from Manchester through the independence struggles - than a real character. The weak characterisation of women were even worse... Why would Helen tie herself to Hashim and Munia for all those years? She didnt have a single relationship outside of them...
The plot was also weak - easily spotted reveals, but no further development and unclear what was the purpose of the death... what did this add to the story? Perhaps author was just bored of them?
Manchester itself is presented as an 'East is East ' carbon copy with the odd road name thrown in - yes, the casual racism rings true but for anyone who knows Manchester, the relationships between places and time periods were all wrong... (manchester central library is not that close to kebab places on Wilmslow road... and in 1970s & it wasnt full of kebab places anyway that was much later; the area of Wilmslow road (Rusholme & Moss Side) has had large Asian & Black immigrant populations for decades -so the descriptions them as 'first' people of colour in 1961s, just doesnt hang true either it also is adjacent to Manchester Uni which always had large numbers of international students through the period... oh and cinemas didnt advertise hot dogs in the 1960s in the UK; much of this area was rebuilt in late 60/ 70s - meaning that Rofikul would have seen a vast change over 20 years & there is no way no way would food be served in a pub in 1981; etc etc. The author may have talked to her relatives, but I doubt they lived in Manchester - as it reads much more like a small town experiences (blackburn, huddlesfield, Halifax, oldham) than being in central Manchester at this time. And by early 80s, the city centre felt quite a hostile place with all the punks and drunks around Piccadilly - so anyone who has knowledge of this time wouldnt have presented the Lewis's store as a highlight!
Its readable, and section on Bangladeshi independence war was interesting if horrific (cant comment on its accuracy) but i found characters oldly detached from any real emotion.
I am surprised it was nominated for an award, but its an ok read.
A touching story about family ties and the meaning of home.
In winter 1960, Hashim leaves his homeland and his new bride, Munira, to seek his fortune in Manchester, England. Under the guidance of his cousin. Rofikul, he finds a job and learns how to fit in with the values and culture of British life. After a short while, Munira arrives to join him and, after quickly befriending Rofikul’s Irish girlfriend Helen, the group starts to put down roots and become a real family. Unfortunately, when war breaks out in Pakistan, their family ties and loyalty may be tested.
This was an extraordinarily well-written book spanning multiple decades and two continents and touching on several important themes, such as cultural differences, racial violence, family loyalty and belonging. The characters were so vivid and real that I felt I really knew them as people – in fact, I would say they were some of the most richly crafted book characters I have ever come across. I felt true sympathy and compassion with Hashim and his family’s struggles, elated at their joys and hurt by their suffering. The story is engaging and manages to educate the reader on several issues without being heavy-handed or overly depressing. Despite some truly sad moments, it ends on a hopeful note and left me feeling like my eyes had been opened to the struggles experienced by migrants moving to the UK.
My one criticism would be that the section about the war in Pakistan, whilst still very interesting, felt a bit out of place in the book. It was written slightly differently than the rest of the novel and felt strangely detached and more like a historical account than a story. This distracted slightly from the central characters and the bulk of the book. However, it was still shocking to read about the horrors and atrocities committed on the Bengali people. I have previously read stories that focus on this time period and it is something I am definitely keen to learn more about, as it seems like a fascinating but deeply sad time.
In conclusion, this was a beautifully written novel which educated and moved me as well as providing entertainment. I love reading about different cultures and would recommend this story to anyone who feels the same.
Daenerys
Elite Reviewing Group received a copy of the book to review.
If there's one word for this book it's"duality". But, one word fails to capture the nuances and details that make this such a glorious read.
Hassim & Family covers over 20 years of, well, Hassim and his family's lives. In 1960 Hassim leaves, what was then the Dominion of Pakistan, and moves to England. Meeting up with his cousin, Rofikul, in Manchester. The story follows their lives and those of their friends and family. It's simple but fascinating. There are the inevitable cultural differences between England and their home, but there are more as the world changes, with the birth of Bangladesh far away and the perceptions of immigrants as time elapses.
Which brings us to the most powerful duality in this book. The family bonds are beautiful - there is a warmth in the writing that is comforting, especially in our turbulent world today. And yet it is also punctuated by horrific violence - both racist attacks in the UK and the Bangladesh Liberation War half the globe away. Ahsan seems to offer them out of necessity; aware that these stories can't be told without such events no matter how unpleasant. And, somehow she manages to still find ways to deliver love and hope despite the brutality. It is disturbing, saddening, and incredibly well written. At least from my perspective anyway - those more closely affected by such attacks undoubtedly have a clearer perspective on their representation in this book and I defer to their judgement.
But I do return to that sense of optimism that runs through the entire book. A sense that, no matter what is happening, no matter how much hurt there is, this little family, unconventional and non-traditional as it may be, can rally around and care for each other. That time and distance can't break such bonds. It is wonderful and heartwarming.
It's carefully written, and the author shows a deep connection with her characters. It's unpretentious and even a little indulgent. Pick this up and enjoy it. It's a luxury and a treat right now, but one that can bring a little cheer despite everything.
There's a lot to love about this multi-generational novel about an immigrant family in the UK. I learned a lot about Pakistan and Bangladesh (though, as other reviewers have noted, sometimes it does feel like the author assumes the readers are more familiar with the situation than we are!) and I genuinely liked most of the characters. It's hard not to love Hashim, and his wife, Munira, is also a compelling character. Their struggles during their time in England were both challenging and heartwarming to read.
That said, there are a few reasons why I couldn't give this book above three stars. The main reason is that the book has no coherent plot. The story takes place over decades and across continents, but there is no consistent through-line. Particularly when the story shifts halfway through to the political unrest in Bangladesh, I found myself wondering what this had to do with Hashim's story.
Secondly, the character of Rofikul, Hashim's cousin, was just despicable. He commits a few horrible acts, for no reason other than selfishness and cowardice, but it's at precisely that moment that he becomes the main character. It feels like we're expected to like him and to want him to succeed, yet I could never forgive him for what he'd done. Considering that the second half of the book centres on him, the book didn't do enough to make him a more sympathetic character. Moreover, I could never get over the fact that Hashim knew Rofikul's secret, yet still encouraged him down that path. I could potentially have gotten over my dislike of Rofikul, but Hashim's complicity in Rofikul's betrayal felt entirely out of character.
Overall, there is a lot to love about this novel, and I'm not surprised that many of the reviews on Goodreads are far more positive than mine. I found this book a little dull and inconsistent, but those with more patience than me will surely enjoy its heartwarming exploration of what it means to build a family in a new land.
Following the lives of Hashim, his wife Munira, his cousin Rofikul, and his cousin's girlfriend Helen, Hashim & Family is a thoroughly engaging look at what family means as well as tackling issues of migration and the meaning of home.
I didn't know what to expect when I opened this book but I quickly became invested in the lives of all of the characters so much so that by the end of the story I was wondering what next and imagining amazing futures for them all. Each character, has a fully developed history, no matter how central they are to the plot; I imagine pages and pages of notes that Ahsan wrote about each character which did not make it into this book and could have easily doubled its length.
Spanning 20 years, this book does not shy away from looking at war in East Pakistan which lead to the formation of Bangladesh as an independent country as well as the violence that immigrants in the UK faced and continue to face. There is also an undeniable warmth to this book as we see the many triumphs of Hashim's family through the years. I especially loved the strength of Munira who is both a devoted wife and fiercely independent.
The only thing that would have pushed this book from a 4.5 to 5 star read for me - and really it is splitting hairs - is that I would have liked to seen a bit more of what became of some of the characters. There are a couple of secondary characters that the reader spends some time getting to know but then it feels as though the book finishes without an conclusion to their stories one way or another.
This book will make you cry but it will also fill your heart with so much love. This is the perfect book to lose yourself in for a few days and just become a part of Hashim's family.
An important book which gives a fictional account of being an immigrant from East Pakistan in the 60s. Hashim intends to make enough money and return to his homeland and bride, but after bringing his bride to him instead, they stay. His cousin meanwhile seems set to settle down with Helen, who is of Irish descent and estranged from her family, and their awaited baby. Until that plan goes awry... The insight into the hostility and violence immigrants faced from many quarters at that time is described well, and gives an interesting mirror to the times we’re passing through once again. I liked all the characters a lot, as they were well drawn though not always sympathetic. The section about the war and the birth of Bangladesh was difficult reading, but gave important context. Overall an enjoyable read, with some important messages to note. I’ll look out for further books from this author. My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review
'Hashim & Family' is an educational and emotional journey back in time to Britain and Pakistan during the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s. It explores the reasons for migration. What is left behind? The concept of family and home. The story captures the brutality and hope of a migrants' life. The tenacious spirit of Hashim and his family portrayed through authentic and believable characters. The characters are flawed and vulnerable, but mostly easy to empathise.
The political and social history aspect of the story is fascinating. The imagery is often graphically detailed to emphasise the horror and terror of racial and religious war. In contrast, the ordinary family bonds which Hashim's family share is heartwarming and uplifting. Life is challenging and often cruel, but Hashim sees only the positives. This story is insightful and memorable.
I received a copy of this book from John Murray's Press via NetGalley in return for an honest review.
A story about immigration in the 1960’s is going to appeal to me. That the family are from East Pakistan/Bangladesh is slightly different from my own family, but them moving to a big northern city is highly relatable.
Hashim comes to Manchester to stay with his cousin, Rofikul. Hashim’s wife Munira comes over to stay, while Rofikul dates an Irish white girl, Helen. The novel covers about twenty years of their lives as the family grows and changes.
I know a little of partition and the later birth of Bangladesh and this book does a good job of fictionalising some of the horrors of war. I wish there had been a little more of the racism in the UK, especially with how it is today, but I understand not getting bogged down in those details.
The novel really comes to life with the characters. They’re all well-developed complex people and I found myself caring about their lives.
Hashim & Family is a novel about love, loyalty, family and the immigration experience. We first meet Hashim when he migrates from what will become Bangladesh to Manchester in 1960. He is met by his cousin Rofikul. The two live with many other immigrants in a group house. Hashim eventually brings his wife Munira over to join him and, despite his plans to remain only a few years, the two build a life - including owning their own business - there. Their family eventually includes a daughter, as well as Rofikul, his Irish girlfriend Helen, and their son Adam.
All in all this is a solid rather than spectacular book, more slow and contemplative than fast paced and punchy. Hashim and his family definitely have racism to contend with, including a couple of horrific incidents, but most of the story is focussed more on family matters and their feelings about immigration and racism don’t get as much airtime as I expected. I loved the supportive relationship between Munira and Helen, the way Munira eventually was able to fulfil her ambitions, and the way her husband and other family members supported her in this. Most of the characters were just really nice and it was impossible not to wish them well. The character of Rofikul though was problematic for me. I didn’t approve of many of his actions and no real explanations for them were offered. I guess sometimes people just are the way they are and we will never really understand why.
Hashim arrives in Manchester on New Years Day, shortly after his marriage to Munira. Staying with a cousin, Rofikul we are soon introduced to all of the important characters in this story. A real strength of this book is the characterisation. All of them are well written, rounded and behave exactly as you’d expect.
I wasn’t aware of much of the history around the birth of Bangladesh and this book vividly described some of the atrocities. While difficult to read, it was also fascinating and written with just the right amount of detail.
This story of immigration and acceptance is excellent and I look forward to reading more by Shahnaz Ahsan in the future. Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for my copy of this book.
‘This country, she thought disbelievingly, was full of absurd surprises’.
Shahnaz Ahsan does an incredible job in portraying the emotions of a new immigrant’s discovery of a foreign country. The awe, love, trepidation, fear and excitement was tangible and to be honest, as a migrant myself (in a completely different era and condition), a number of these emotions resonated nostalgically with myself.
You are certainly thrown into the family, and feel a part of the relations right up until the end. Definitely an enjoyable read, and for me, the end probably did the story justice. That far down the line, closure perhaps, was not an option.
Thanks NetGalley and John Murray for a review copy.
A story of immigration in the 1960s - Hashim comes over from East Pakistan to create a new life in the UK; he starts off in Manchester with his cousin Rofikul, who has made the same journey a few years previous. We follow the story of Hashim as he forges his way, bringing over his new wife, and creating a livelihood and family.
I really enjoyed this - all the characters are well developed and full of life - some to care more for, some less. The enduring ties of family and homeland are central themes to the story, gripping me all the way through.
Shahnaz Ahsan is definitely a new writer to look out for again in the future.
I really enjoyed this book which spans several decades and several generations of a family. Hashim moves to Manchester from East Pakistan. He is greeted by his cousin Rofikul. his plan is to only stay five years to send money back home to his family. But once he brings his wife over, life has other plans. Well-written, this story is both moving and warming. It tells the tale of immigration, adapting to new ways of life, dealing with racism, familial love and hopes and tensions. I enjoyed every second of it.
A story of immigration in the 1960’s, and the lives that follow through to the 1980’s. Set in Manchester and Bangladesh, the novel describes the lives of two cousins who follow very different paths. Whilst I found the friendship of Helen and Munira very believable, I found the ending to be rather underdeveloped and less believable. There were two many unanswered questions, such as how did Rofikul afford to stay here for so long, why didn’t he contact Helen and Adam sooner? This was a good read, nonetheless, and I would give it 3.5 stars rounded up to 4.
I found this book very refreshing as a piece of historical fiction and also learned a lot about the history of Bangladesh’s formation (very sad to read). I really liked the author’s writing style and the fact the book spans over many decades and two countries and delves into important social issues. I do wish that Shapla and Joy’s characters were more developed though- I really wanted to witness Shapla’s growth and know what became of her. But otherwise, a great read and keen to see more from this author.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
An insightful and eye opening read on joining the UK in the 60s as a Bangladeshi family (at that time Pakistan) the culture shock, racism, different beliefs and day to day difference they have to learn to cope/deal with. Beautiful story, hard to read at times, uncomfortable to read the things they suffered and sad to say a lot is still common, such an engaging story. Recommended reading.
Thanks to netgalley and the publisher for a free copy for an honest opinion
This book really interested me because I was an Irish immigrant to came to Manchester around 20 years ago, so I could really relate to Hashim and Rofikul moving to the city; however their land was a lot further away and their welcome in England wasn't always a positive one. The writer gives us a wealth of characters that I enjoyed following their lives, and I'm quite sad as I write this to have finished the book. I will definitely look out for future work by Shahnaz Ahsan ☺️.