Brick Lane

by Monica Ali

Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers
A captivating read from a debut novelist, Brick Lane brings the immigrant milieu of East London to vibrant life. With great poignancy, Ali illuminates a foreign world; her well-developed characters pull readers along on a deeply psychological, almost spiritual journey. Through the eyes of two Bangladeshi sisters -- the plain Nazneen and the prettier Hasina -- we see the divergent paths of the contemporary descendants of an ancient culture. Hasina elopes to a "love marriage," and young Nazneen, in an arranged marriage, is pledged to a much older man living in London.

Ali's skillful narrative focuses on Nazneen's stifling life with her ineffectual husband, who keeps her imprisoned in a city housing project filled with immigrants in varying degrees of assimilation. But Ali reveals a bittersweet tension between the "two kinds of love" Nazneen and her sister experience -- that which begins full and overflowing, only to slowly dissipate, and another which emerges like a surprise, growing unexpectedly over years of faithful commitment. Both of these loves have their own pitfalls: Hasina's passionate romance crumbles into domestic violence, and Nazneen's marriage never quite reaches a state of wedded bliss.

Though comparisons have drawn between Ali and Zadie Smith, a better comparison might be made between this talented newcomer and the work of Amy Tan, who so deftly portrays the immigrant experience with empathy and joy.
(Fall 2003 Selection)

Genres: Fiction, Book Club, India, Contemporary, London, Literary Fiction, Bangladesh

384 pages, Hardcover

First published May 31, 2003

About the author

Monica Ali is a British writer of Bangladeshi origin. She is the author of Brick Lane, her debut novel, which was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize for Fiction in 2003. Ali was voted Granta's Best of Young British Novelists on the basis of the unpublished manuscript.

She lives in South London with her husband, Simon Torrance, a management consultant. They have two children, Felix (born 1999) and Shumi (born 2001).

She opposes the British government’s attempt to introduce the Racial and Religious Hatred Act 2006. She discusses this in her contribution to Free Expression Is No Offence, a collection of essays published by Penguin in 2005.

Reviews

[Nancy · Rating 1 out of 5]

Could it take me longer to read a book? I made myself read this book everyday so I could be done with it and properly hate it.

Look at what the NY Review of Books said:

"Ali succeeds brilliantly in presenting the besieged humanity of people living hard, little-known lives on the margins of a rich, self-absorbed society."

WHO IS THIS CRAZY NUT? You need to read a book like Brick Lane to understand "besieged humanity" or what it's like to live a "hard, little-known" life?

The protaganist moves around in the book like she's had a lobotomy. It wasn't until page 152, I believe, when Nazneen giggles. FINALLY, the woman shows a sign of life. Her senses are completely dulled. Don't buy into the crap about "what it must be like to live a suppressed/oppressed life as a Muslim woman." That's not what's going on. Compare Nazneen's character to that of her sister, aunt, and friends. It's a wonder that lifeless Nazneen even moves into an affair with a younger man.

The most ridiculous part (and because of that, maybe the most enjoyable?) of Nazneen's story is when she stops this evil money lender Mafia-like woman in the story by asking her to swear on the Qu'ran. Really, is that all it took? This woman is an interest-charging money lender (which, apparently, is a big NO-NO as a Muslim) who runs a religious school for girls and raises her sons to be repo-man thugs but she's afraid to swear on the Qu'ran because of an accounting discrepancy? Score one for Nazneen and her growing independence!

OK, to be fair, Nazneen is supposed to be a woman who is passive. Her own mother left Nazneen's entrance into the world up to Fate and that fatalism is what she was raised on. But how she moved from that passivity into an affair with a younger man? Kind of muddy. And her decision to stand up to her husband and stay in the UK with the kids? Little murky. But why should I nitpick? Who knows why we do anything in this world?

Back to being unfair (because I was so bored by this book)...

If you read it, you'll actually end up sympathizing with her husband Chanu..seriously. If you've started reading the book, you will understand what I mean. I know he's supposed to be some idiot windbag who talks like a bigshot at home but deals with the disappointed fragments of his dreams outside the home, but do we need 200 pages of his pathetic flaps to understand this??? And, if one could isolate the number of sentences or paragraphs that concerned the corns on his feet, could there be about 20 pages? Is this the same "brilliant book about things that matter" that Ian Jack of Granta refers to? People! Puh-leeze give me a break!

THE ONE REALLY GOOD THING ABOUT THIS BOOK is the story about Nazneen's sister. She writes letters to her sister detailing her life in Dhaka. The character Hasina is everything that Nazneen is not: angry, sad, happy, determined, loving, and alive. Her life is amazing. The letters alone saved the book. However, even this was ruined by Monica Ali. Why did Hasina's letters need to be written in some strange broken English or literally translated Bengali? If we can view Nazneen's life through grammatically correct English, why can't we understand Hasina in something gramatically correct? Is this to emphasize her distance? Whatever. Weird and frustrating to read.

[Baba · Rating 4 out of 5]

At 18, Nazneen is taken from her Bangladeshi village life, via an arranged marriage to a man in his 40s who is just about eking out a living in a poor part of East London (UK) in his small flat. Anecdotally, this is the fate that many Bengali (and other Muslim) girls know awaits, so she knuckles down to it. Now with two daughters, and her older husband with big ideas but limited prospects, and Nazneen herself a stay-at-home seamstress, life takes an unexpected and extremely dangerous turn when she meets the radical (for change) young Karim.

To the background of the East London 'white flight', the 'coming of the Bengalis', racism and the once again changing face of the Brick Lane area of London, Monica Ali drops a mesmerising debut novel with her almost poetic dissection of the life of a woman from a conservative patriarchal world seemingly taking the sensuality and recklessness of an affair to reappraise her identity. With race, Islam and even the Bengali diaspora playing second fiddle to her experience and the wonderful supporting cast from the almost lovable husband with a genuine heart of gold under his brusque exterior, to the pseudo gangster outfit led by an aging theatrical Bengali matriarch!

I found this most definitely one of those books where the sum of the whole made me gasp in awe on completion of it! Another joy was the overall plotting, where like many lives, for every predictable outcome there are just as many unpredictable events. Above all I found it a ground breaking testament to the lives of first generation immigrants who have to not only try and integrate into their new climate, but also balance that integration with the demands of their own culture. The final golden touch was having Nazneen's sister back in Bangladesh relate the trials and tribulations of her own life as a contrast. 9 out of 12. The most startling thing is, I just don't understand why it took me so long to get round to reading this gem!

2022 read

[Paul Bryant · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don't know why they do it but they do it a lot - on the title page it says

Brick Lane : A Novel

And there I was expecting this oblong of printed material to be

Brick Lane : A New Kind of Vacuum Cleaner

Anyway. Other reviews would have you believe that this book is terrifically boring, beaten only for tediousness by Some Variations in the Major Groups of Plankton of the Kamchatka Peninsula Littoral by R.K. Litkynshovskaya and P.I. Podgorna-Bialaczczka. So why did I really enjoy this novel? Could it be that after a while I accepted my fate in the same way our heroine accepts hers, and my heart, like hers, fluttered when the slightest thing out of the ordinary happened? Or maybe I'm a Samuel Beckett fan and don't realise it. It's very true I do love the music of Steve Reich, which could never be described as dramatic, and indeed has often been compared to Some Variations in the Major Groups of Plankton of the Kamchatka Peninsula Littoral. But really I think I prefer the company of Nazneen and her very aggravating husband Chanu over, say, Jean Claude Van Damme and Steven Seagal any day of the week. Not to mention most of my work colleagues and family members. Of course it may be true that should Monica Ali choose to write a graceful and compassionate novel about any of that rabble, I'd be glued to that too.

[Jan-Maat]

That was not what I expected.

Not that I can define very well what I did expect. I am curious that Ali, after making a splash with this book and writing a few more novels has pretty much disappeared.

I supposed I imagined that this book would very strongly a novel of the New Labour era that by now would be well past it's best before date and that it would smell dated and stale. It is dated in that I could see a novelist tackling the same topic might be angrier and there would not be minor touches of optimism like the estate getting a youth centre and the main character's flat finally getting some repairs, possibly this 'modern' version I imagine might tie up the Bangladesh and Tower Hamlets stories courtesy of the Bangladesh Awami League .

What this is, is a very close portrait of a woman over time, another review mentioned Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina, well yes there is a connection, but that would be a spoiler and in terms of the drive of the story it is only a part of the main character's journey not a decisive (and fatal) hammer blow. Ice Skating and Torvil & Dean are more important ultimately in this story.

My sense was that this is much more like a version of The old wives tale, the contrasting lives of two sisters, the adventurous and beautiful Hasina, and her elder sister the dutiful and eager to please Nazneen. The two are brought up in a village in Bangladesh, although at first and that is significant, because this is an evolutionary novel, all about change over time Nazneen, who is married of to an older man and goes with him to London, hankers after that lost world of childhood, Ali is careful not to show us the village as a bucolic idyll. Still it is what Nazneen knew. We learn of Hasina's story through the occasional letters that she sends Nazneen and this is used to advance the story by a few years at one stage.

This novel is a great portrayal of London too - not as a teeming, pigeon infested Metropolis with it's sewers full of looming Fatbergs, but as the tight world of a one bedroom flat (later a two bedroom flat) in a shabby council housing estate in Tower Hamlets, when we see; Bishopsgate, Covent Garden or Buckingham Palace they are strange, alien places, other worlds in every sense.

I felt also that aside from some jokes, that this was a Victorian novel, the main character is suspiciously reliable, it is mostly scrupulously chronological - flashbacks are clear, there is no whiff of modernism, in literary terms this is a continuation of the novel as Dickens knew it, it is something like David Copperfield, very domestic, starting from the birth running from misery towards non-misery with up's and downs on the way, the wicked Loan Shark - an increasingly elderly Bengali woman with two dim sons as her enforcers, is a Dickensian grotesque as is Nazneen's hapless husband, overweight, with his corns and unheard thesis on white working class racism - though Ali treats him far more tenderly than Dickens' would have, he is something of a Mr Micawber believing that 'something will come up', a promotion, a job, business opportunities - his narrative arc is very sorry for the spoiler similar too. He does get to be the voice of truth and knowledge, despite being a ridiculous and often silly figure in the novel.

And then there are jokes ok, not particularly funny ones, Nazneen's husband works for Mr Dalloway but is never invited round to his house for the barbecue hosted by his wife, there is a Dr Azad, like his namesake in A Passage to India ashamed of his own house this novel could have been called A Passage to England - it is very largely Forster's book turned inside out but I am just showering you with spoilers here.

Clothes are a nice feature of this novel both as character or character's statements of allegiance and outlook. Certainly a good, solid novel, it may not turn your life upside down or keep you awake at night, but is very nicely done.

[Alesa · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's a good reason that Brick Lane was short-listed for the Man Booker award, and was nominated for a whole slew of other prizes too. It is just brilliant. That doesn't mean that it is necessarily fun to read. (A 16 year old Bangladeshi girl is married off to a 40 year old guy in London, and goes there to start a new life in almost poverty. No, not exactly a "fun" topic…) However, the descriptions are brilliant, and the story itself is mesmerizing. The subplots are rich and believable. You really feel like you've learned a lot about what it means to be a Blangladeshi immigrant to the UK.

However, it does a lot more, namely it urges the reader to think about:

* The imposition of passivity on a woman, to the point of making passivity a virtue, something that certainly transcends cultures and limits self-expectations (a theme throughout the book is the main character being left to her Fate at birth)
* The experience of any immigrant, and the complex attitudes that the immigrant experience generates both towards the new culture and the old
* The deplorable status of women in Bangladesh
* The wrenching realization that one is married to an idiot
* The nature of marriage itself
* The hypocrites that exist in any culture and religion (very ironic that the shameless usurer in the book is named Mrs. Islam)
* The way that living in a specific slice of history influences one's opinions and values

Although this book is rather long, the author probably needed the length to address her varied themes. It's a serious book, but often hilarious. It's uplifting, because it speaks of women's empowerment. And it kindled a desire in me to learn more about Bangladesh and its history -- and perhaps go there some day.

[Bionic Jean · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the story of Nazneen, who lives in East London’s Brick Lane.

So what is so special about Brick Lane, to make it the title of a novel? Does it actually exist? And if so, where is it?

Well Brick Lane certainly does exist. It is a long road in the Tower Hamlets area of East London, starting in Bethnal Green, snaking through Spitalfields and ending up in Whitechapel. In fact it’s more of a community than just the name of a road. Nowadays locals call it “Banglatown”, with most signs in dual language, English and Bengali, although it has not always been so.

For centuries Brick Lane has been a vibrant everchanging community. At first it was called Whitechapel Lane and was just a little path through the fields in open countryside, as most roads were, just outside the City of London. In the 15th century the Flemish brickmakers came, and used the local brick earth deposits for their trade. Ever since then it has been known as Brick Lane, through more than 5 centuries of changing immigration. The French Huguenots arrived in the 16th and 17th centuries. They were expert weavers and tailors, and established the area as an established silk and clothing district—as it still is. In between then and now, other immigrant groups settled in the area, either fleeing from persecution or poverty, such as the Jews and the Irish, or settling for reason of trade, forming “Chinatown” in Limehouse.

Then in the 20th century, Bengali immigrants settled in Brick Lane, especially after Bangladesh’s War of Independence in 1971. Many of them worked in the clothes factories, and opened up curry houses, initially just to feed their families.

But Anglo-Indian cuisine was to take London by storm, giving rise to many so-called “Indian” restaurants. We can see the very beginning of this in the novel. The action in “Brick Lane” takes place when the Bangladeshi community—the largest group being from Sylhet—was quite well established. This largely Sylheti population now are the most recent inhabitants, with some being 4th or 5th generations of the early settlers, and some still remembering life in Bangladesh.

Nazneen, for instance, had not always lived in Brick Lane. Nazneen’s life had begun back in 1967, in the small village of Gouripur, in Mymensingh (in what is now Bangladesh). But by 1985 Nazneen was 18, married and living amongst other Sylheti families in a council flat in Tower Hamlets. She yearned for her former home; for the green fields, and water buffalo, and mynah birds:

“Slices of gray sky wedged themselves between the blocks of flats. How small they were. How mean. In Gouripur, when she looked up she saw that the sky reached to the very ends of the earth. Here she could measure it simply by spreading her fingers.”

Yet Nazneen knows she is fortunate. Her father has made a good marriage for her:

‘“It was lucky for me”—her heart swelled as she spoke—“that my father chose an educated man”’

and she is surrounded by her husband’s proud possessions:

“There was a lot of furniture, more than Nazneen had seen in one room before. Even if you took all the furniture in the compound, from every auntie and uncle’s ghar, it would not match up to this one room. There was a low table and a glass top and orange plastic legs, three little wooden tables that stacked together, the big table they used for the evening meal, a bookcase, a corner cupboard, a rack for newspapers, a trolley filled with files and folders, the sofa and armchairs, two footstools, six dining chairs, and a showcase. The walls were papered in yellow with brown squares and circles lining neatly up and down. Nobody in Gouripur had anything like it. It made her proud. Her father was the second-wealthiest man in the village and he had never had anything like it. He had made a good marriage for her.”

No matter that Chanu looks like a frog, he is a kind man; an older man who will care for her. He had arrived in London 30 years earlier, in 1979. Chanu is proud of Nazneen too, telling his friend Dr. Aziz on the phone that he has “the real deal”—a village girl to be his wife. And Nazneen knows it is her duty to clean this flat, and cook meals for them, and support her husband in his many plans. For he is an educated man with many framed certificates. Nazneen can read a little, as her mother had taught her, but she can only speak a few words of English. She has no idea that the “certificates” are not true academic qualifications—in one case it is a framed reply to a letter of application for a course—because Chanu insists on the importance of having diplomas.

Chanu is eminently respectable in his own eyes, and only wishes to mix with “educated types” such as his friend Dr. Aziz, whom he much admires. He constantly makes derogatory comments about those he works with, the “ignorant types” and talking scornfully of the village attitudes of the Sylhetis on the estate, calling them “peasant types—mostly they are illiterate”. He talks at length of Shakespeare, and Beethoven, and the classical music of Bengali musicians such as Ustad Allaudin Khan, and Ustad Ayet Ali Khan—and Zainul Abedin, a Bangladeshi painter who had been born in Mymensingh. Nazneen knows that Chanu will go far, and that it is up to her to make her husband’s life happy. It is up to her, and of course up to Allah, for Nazneen is a very devout person who keep the Koran on a special shelf, taking it down several times a day to pray. She never sees Chanu praying, but assumes that he must keep this part of his life private.

What do you expect when you read a story about someone living between two cultures? Contemporary readers will doubtless expect certain concepts to be raised. Immediately we think of the cultural displacement and dissociation Nazneen clearly feels. This will apply to every reader, but other issues may depend on who you are, and what your own personal experience has been. If you are a Western reader, then the cultural and religious sexism will hit you squarely in the face, although Nazneen does not view the world this way. For her, her place in the world is decided by Fate. The story of “How You Were Left to Your Fate” had been told to her many times by her mother and aunties, and as we read the novel, we have flashbacks to various earlier times.

Nazneen was the first child of Rupban, who went into labour two months early. Everyone who was there at the birth—including Rupban’s sister-in-law Mumtaz, and the village midwife Banesa—thought that Nazneen was dead, until she began to move. Rupban wondered about getting a doctor, but decided to leave her daughter to her fate. To the great surprise of everyone, including her father Hamid, Nazneen survived. Unlike her pretty sister Hasina who was four years younger, Nazneen grew up into a plain, thoughtful child who followed her mother’s teaching, that almost everything in life should be left to Allah:

“What could not be changed must be borne. And since nothing could be changed, everything had to be borne. This principle ruled her life. It was mantra, fettle and challenge. So that at the age of thirty-four … after she had been give three children and had one taken away, when she had a futile husband and had been fated a young and demanding lover, when for the first time she could not wait for the future to be revealed but had to make it for herself, she was as startled by her own agency as an infant who waves a clenched fist and strikes itself upon the eye.”

This passivity and acceptance of her lot makes Nazeen who she is. Hasina however is different. Made much of when she was young, she is not tempered by such beliefs, nor does she remember their mother saying she was born to suffer, and eventually killing herself, although this is never admitted openly. Both sisters are impacted by luck or fate, but respond in different ways. Nazneen is carving a new life for herself in London, but we see for much of the novel how constrained she is. “Amma” (her mother Rupban) had drummed into her that:

“If God wanted us to ask questions, he would have made us men.”

So for several years, Nazneen stays in their home, only venturing out when Chanu takes her, and then respectfully following a few feet behind, as was customary. Yet still she wonders …

“You can spread your soul over a paddy field, you can whisper to a mango tree, you can feel the earth between your toes and know that this is the place, the place where it begins and ends. But what can you tell to a pile of bricks? The bricks will not be moved.”

Even though Hasina stays in Bangladesh (mostly in the capital, Dhaka) her story is likely to resonate with a new generation. Hasina is a fighter and does not want to live as her sister does Hasina runs away with her sweetheart, although her subsequent life is a struggle; a tragic story of drudgery and rape . You will worry and weep for Hasina. We follow a story in two locations, through letters between the sisters, right up to 1996 and then again in 2001.

Another aspect of those between two cultures is class. Often immigrants to a country are not welcome, and have to scratch a living. We do see an example of a wealthy family who are culturally displaced even in their own country; the celebrity couple “Lovely” and James, for whom Hasina works as a maid and nanny but they never meet the cultural challenges head on. They find them inconvenient, so the blinkers stay firmly put. But for Sylheti people who have little money, their arrival in London puts them in a sort of underclass. The likely outcome for them is to be victims of circumstance, and of a hardened class system which is designed to reward the prosperous. This is not unlike the traditional way in Nazneen’s birth country, where the wealthy also get richer on the backs of the poor. Hasina, who has remained in Bangladesh, says:

“I thinking my life cursed. God has given me life but he has cursed it. He put rocks in my path thorns under feet snakes over head. Which way I turn any way it is dark. He never light it. If I drink water it turn to mud eat food it poison me. I stretch out my hand it burn and by my side it wither. This is what He plan for me.”

Nazneen too wonders about her destiny. But this is Nazneen’s story, and Nazneen has a journey to make. It will probably not be the journey you expect. She is not going to openly challenge gender concepts, or the class system, although at times she wonders if she is being anti-Islamic, and is more conscious of her country’s colonial history than Hasina.

Although now in East London, Nazneen is still very much influenced by her childhood in Pakistan. The cultural gap is exacerbated, as they were not part of the modern Bangladesh. In 1947, the Partition of India divided Bengal, (part of Pakistan), along religious lines, establishing the borders of the mainly Muslim East Bengal, with a British administrator aided by leading Bengali politicians as ministers. Then “East Pakistan” was established as part of East Bengal from 1955 until 1971, when East Pakistan became the newly independent state of Bangladesh.

Nazneen had been born in Gouripur village, (then in East Pakistan) in 1967, four years before Independence, and all her older relatives had the cultural mores and beliefs of that earlier time, which they instilled into her.

The first time we see signs that Nazneen may be resisting her mother’s decree that everything is subject to Fate, is in 1988 when she has been in England for 3 years. She has a baby she adores, called Raqib. When Raqib gets sick, she refuses to leave him to his fate, and she and Chanu rush him to hospital, where Nazneen remains by his bedside day after day, praying for his life. When he appears to recover, Nazneen is filled with contempt for her mother’s passivity. But when Raqib dies, Nazneen is again plagued by uncertainty. Perhaps after all, she should not have stood in the way of his fate.

Many times Nazneen is plagued by guilt, fearing that she has interfered with Allah’s plan. For instance she has an affair with the handsome young Karim, who is a second generation immigrant. These young people, equally unsure of their place in the world, are keenly observed. So street-smart, they have never been to Bangladesh, yet are still taught to think of it as “home”: a country to which they will one day return.

We see many examples of the youth culture, and clashes between rival factions. Some young men cast off their English jeans and go back to traditional dress. The girls’ hijabs are slowly upgraded to burkhas. Not everyone approves of females being a part of this movement. Others adapt their dress to include both cultures, and welcome their “sisters”. The group decide to call themselves the “Bengal Tigers”, in opposition to the so-called “Lion Hearts”, a rival white gang on the estate. We see tensions heating up between the gangs. Riots and counter demonstrations are planned, cancelled, and planned again.

Where does Nazneen feature in this? Or Chanu? It is all about a search for individual identity.

“If you think you are powerless, then you are.”

This book is very close to my heart, and its characters feel very real. Take Nazneen and Chanju’s daughters for instance: Shahana, who obstinately rejects anything to do with her parent’s Bengali heritage, and Bibi, who tries hard to please everyone. Dr. Aziz who married for love, against the Bengali tradition, and who now realises that he is poles apart from his working-class white wife. There is a huge range of characters. Canny Mrs. Islam, not only a gossip but a corrupt and merciless usurer, aided by her thuggish sons who intimidate people into paying far more than they owe. And Razia Iqbal, bold and rebellious, who so wanted to be her own woman and be educated, despite her angry husband who grows furious whenever she defies his wishes. Eventually he was to die in a work accident; grotesquely killed when 17 frozen cows fell on him. He left her with two young children: a son Tariq and daughter Shelfali. But Tariq grows up to be a heroin addict who steals from her to fund his addiction. This story broke my heart. And Monju’s whose husband threw acid in her face, because she would not give up their child, eventually causing a hideously painful death despite nursing care shocked me to the core.

Many stories are interwoven in this epic, which I regard as a true classic. It is not Monica Ali’s story; she is of dual heritage. Her father is Bangladeshi and her mother is English. She was born in Dhaka, but grew up in Lancashire, in the North of England and went to Oxford university. Monica Ali has said that her father told her many stories about his childhood in the Mymensingh District of Bangladesh, and that this was a valuable resource for her when writing about Nazneen’s continuing flashbacks to her early life in Gouripur. Monica Ali well understands her father’s cultural legacy.

Neither is it my story. I am English and white, but worked in the same handful of streets where Nazneen lived for several years, just off Columbia Road and Brick Lane. The few hundred children I got to know (and am still friends with as adults in many cases) were all from one or two “houses” i.e. old tenement blocks, like Rosemead House or Seasalter House, containing many families, on an estate. The Brick Lane “Jamme Masjid” (Friday mosque), is just on the corner. It was built in 1742-74 as a Huguenot Chapel, then used as a Methodist mission and later on as a synagogue. Only in 1975 did it become a mosque. Shoreditch church is close by, as is Commercial Road and Altab Ali park.

When I started, the children were mostly Sylheti, and by the time I left, the entire school was Sylheti; 250-300 children, comprising an ordinary state school, not a “madrasah” (mosque school or mother tongue school). Other schools in the area had a similar intake. All the children were from poor, rural families in Sylhet like Nazneen’s, and like her, could not speak English at all when they arrived. They soon picked it up, although their parents might not, and the kids had to translate. Many families had no jobs, but some mothers worked in the garment industry, never leaving the security of their block.

I knew all these families quite well, and can testify to this novel’s authenticity. Some of the children were first generation immigrants like Nazneen’s, or their parents were, but many were second, third or even fourth generation immigrants. Being between two cultures is complicated. It was a richly vibrant community in a state of flux, with new ideas, and also much valued traditions. Multiple subtle shades of attitudes and affiliations still exist within a tightly knit community; divisions and loyalties both within itself, and with the larger multicultural population of London.

Tourists “go for a curry” in Brick Lane. Bangladeshi food and clothing shops, graffiti and street art abound. At its peak in 2008, there were about 60 restaurants selling Indian, Punjabi or Bangladeshi food on this one road. There are numerous stalls, and a famous weekend market dates back to the early 19th century. But now, money from the City is pouring in. Trendy cafés, vintage clothes shops, delicatessens and chocolatiers are all booming on Brick Lane, and Bangladeshi-run curry restaurants have plummeted, with a decrease of 62% in just 15 years. In 2020 there were just 23 resturants left. An official report “Beyond Banglatown” shows that many of the Bangladeshi community are being displaced by this regeneration. The two- or three-room tenement flats in Brick Lane are being converted into luxury apartments, with one new swish apartment taking the place of several of the old ones with multiple occupants. There are plans for a huge office space, shops, restaurants and gyms.

Nazneen’s world is dying. Just as with any “progress” such as the Industrial Revolution, many people are excited about the possibilities. Many of the Bengali community are now prosperous and middle-class. They are modern English Bengalis with a unique outlook, who prefer to keep their family origins respected but separate. Yet for all the hardships and sufferings of this small community, as the ongoing gentrification is escalating, I cannot help feeling that another precious identity: something unique and irreplaceable, will be lost amid a morass of concrete.

I feel the end of the book establishing a sari shop with Razia was the right one for Nazneen, but I do wonder where she would be now.

[Diane S ☔]

I would have to force myself to finish reading this book and quite frankly I don't want to. Neither like nor care what happens to these characters.

[Zaki · Rating 1 out of 5]

Monica Ali's prose is the literary equivalent of a curry with too many cardamom seeds.

[Alexis Hall]

So I read this because I felt I should have read it – which is not an ideal way to read a book, and that’s on me.

But I think maybe … it hasn’t aged so well? It feels like the kind of book that would be shortlisted for the Booker circa 2003. And, to be fair, I think that says more about the kind of books a white British audience wants to read about non-white British people than about non-white British people themselves or, indeed, non-white British authors.

So the deal here is that the novel takes place between 1985 and 2002. It’s mostly set on an imaginary council estate near Tower Hamlets and mostly centres on Nazneen—a virgin bride sent to London from a Bangladeshi village to marry Chanu, an older and self-described ‘educated’ man desperate to establish himself in the UK. Something he singularly and persistently fails to do, through a combination of, uh, what I assume is institutionalised racism and also just, um, being a loser? Hard to entangle that one for sure. Later she has an affair with Karim, a second-generation immigrant, somewhat younger than Nazneen herself, who is radicalised after 9/11 and later vanishes. Finally Nazneen pushes back against her life of submission and decides to stay in London with her daughters following her husband’s decision to return to Bangladesh.

I am having a really hard time to sorting out my thoughts on this one, while also sensible of the fact that it’s not really my place to dig into what this book does or was trying to do. While the character work is really intricate, especially when it comes to Nanzeen and her husband, and does pay off at the end it takes a long time to get there. And a lot of that time is spent essentially trapped in the council flat with Nanzeen which is narratively stifling. As, I guess, it’s supposed to be? There’s also long sections of the book which take the form as letters from Nanzeen’s sister—her scandalous flight from the small village where she and Nanzeen were born precipitated Nanzeen being sent to London—and while I appreciated Hasina’s importance to Nanzeen I did find this sections hard to get through. They didn’t feel fully integrated into the novel’s structure but given the very different paths of Nanzeen and Hasina’s lives, this probably deliberate.

More complicated still—and even more beyond the scope of what it’s appropriate for me to talk about—I couldn’t help but feel the characters occasionally came perilously close to falling into “types” that spoke more to, well, white British stereotypes of the immigrant experience? I mean, the silent, submissive Bangladeshi wife? The husband who is full of goals and lofty talk, but has nothing to show for it? The radicalised youth who sees Nanzeen as “untainted” by the west. I just don’t know. And this is why I’m inclined to feel the novel hasn’t aged so well. Obviously I don’t get to say what stories get to be told, nor who gets to tell them but it’s very difficult for me to see, perhaps, what this book might say to a British Bangladeshi reader in 2021. I’m not quite sure what it says to me as a random white person either.

Also, for a novel called Brick Lane, I found it surprisingly lacking in sense of place. But since alienation is one of the major themes of the novel, maybe that too is necessary?

I did appreciate the writing here, though. And I’m glad the read the book. I feel singularly incapable of engaging with it usefully though.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

I did enjoy this novel; it goes at a good pace and there is a warmth about it that I appreciated. The structure of the novel is interesting. Nazneen is born in a village in Bangladesh; when old enough she is married to Chanu, a much older man who lives in England. She goes to England as a bride in her teens in 1985. The story follows her over the next years (until 2002) as she has children and mixes with the Bangladeshi community around Brick Lane. The novel also cuts to her sister Hasina back in Bangladesh periodically. There are memorable characters in the Bangladeshi community, each coping with being in a strange culture in different ways; some by blending in others by keeping apart.
Nazneen’s husband Chanu turns out to be a decent man (he doesn’t beat her); he wants a simple village girl to look after him and doesn’t allow Nazneen to learn English, as she doesn’t need it. The novel is tragic and comic, although the comedy is restrained, it is still there. Ali describes physicality very well; you do get a sense of the characters by the descriptions of physical habits and tics, by the way they wear their clothes, fiddle with their hair and so on.
Nazneen develops as the novel goes on and gradually one gets a sense of her becoming rounded as an individual, liberated almost. There are also grand themes; religion and its relation to culture, characters cut off from their origins and adrift in a foreign land, adultery, poverty, family tensions; all the stuff of everyday life and high drama. There are correlations with Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina. It is about how much control we have over our lives; can you go back to a dream? It isn’t a simple clash of cultures; it is more nuanced; even Karim, a devout Muslim, is a complex and interesting character. Brick Lane is also a novel about place and the geographical restriction of Nazneen’s life adds to the power of her character development. I know this isn’t a universally loved novel, but I enjoyed it.

[Sana · Rating 4 out of 5]

رمان کوچه آجری توسط مونیکا علی نوشته شده است.
این کتاب یکی از نامزدان نهایی جایزه بوکر در سال ۲۰۰۳بود.نویسنده در بنگلادش،داکا به دنیا آمد.پدرش بنگلادشی و مادرش انگلیسی است.او در سن ۳ سالگی همراه خانواده‌اش به انگلیس رفت ودر آنجا مقیم شد‌.
کتاب اصلی او،بریک لین (که نامش از خیابان بریک لین در انتهای شرقی لندن گرفته شده)

داستان اصلی درمورد دو خواهر به نام‌های نازنین و هسینه هست.
نازنین در سن کم به دستور پدرش با یک مردی مسن ازدواج می‌کند و برای زندگی او را همراه خود به لندن می‌برد.اما هسینه در زادگاهش بنگلادش با مردی ازدواج می‌کند.
نازنین تمام امیدها و رویاهاش رو رها می‌کند خود را وقف بزرگ کردن خانواده‌اش می‌کند، سعی می کند دنیایی را که او کاملاً درک نمی کند سازگار کند.
اتفاقات زیادی در لندن می افتد و افراد جدیدی وارد زندگی آنها می شوند و بر افکار و اعمال آنها تأثیر می‌گذارد.
نازنین همیشه فکر می‌کرد که خودش و اتفاقات زندگی‌اش فقط متعلق به سرنوشت است، اما بدون اینکه کاملاً بداند، یک قدرت و عزم پنهان او را به مسیری غیرمنتظره می‌کشاند. این کتاب به ویژه در ارتباط با مسائل نژادی و اجتماعی از عمق خاصی برخوردار است. نثر بی عیب و نقصی دارد و شخصیت ها را بسیار زنده می کند.
البته در طول داستان از طریق نامه های هسینه به خواهرش شاهد زندگی پر فراز و نشیب واتفاقات تلخ او می‌شویم.
کتابی درباره‌ی عشق ،خیانت، نژادها و فرهنگ ها و البته مهاجرت هست.
متاسفانه خیلی این کتاب ناشناخته ست و هیچ ریویو فارسی ازش جایی نديدم.
در کل تجربه‌ی جدید و متفاوتی بود برام.

[zed · Rating 4 out of 5]

A book that asks about fate. The author states this very early in the read. A strange quirk of fate made me read this. I walked to the railway station and passed the neighbourhood swap library and could not resist that the front cover said that Brick Lane was a Booker nominee. Tucking it into my bag, I headed to the station and got on the train I catch to go 2 stations to my place of employment. Trouble was that no one told me that the train was to go along a spur line and head into inner city Brisbane because the signals were faulty on my line. I got the book out and began to read the first chapter. And I did not stop until I got to work 2 hours late. Fate (or maybe I just did not hear the PA announcement.)

Brick Lane has 34,500 plus ratings and over 2,300 reviews as I write so what can I add? Not much to explain the premise as many reviews do, but I can bump the rating up a little. This reader thought that this book had its faults, but by the same token the character driven story had me wanting to know the fate of the family of Nazneen and her arranged marriage husband Chanu.

Faults? A bit too long. There was also a scene towards the end when the eldest daughter, very much a youth of English background, ran away from home in reaction to the father’s decision that the family should move. Her return back into the family fold by the heroic actions of her mother were far too contrived. The end was a touch saccharine as well.

Be that as it may this is not just about fate but also about how cultures react to each other, those that can except our differences, those that can’t, how a young girl from a Bangladesh village is hurled into a life utterly alien to her and how she copes with such things she never imagined such as modernity and freedoms, the attitude of her peer group, a husband that meant well but was in between and in betwixt culturally. It was a hard book to put down.

I knew there was a film, so decided to watch that straight after finishing the read. It was very good, though it did not reach the depths of the book in terms of some of the characters. Where the film had a strength was the casting, the characters were as they should be in comparison to the book and Satish Chandra Kaushik who played the father Chanu was perfect. This is also that rare occasion I actually thought that the film offered a better outcome to the daughter running away from home. It was actually more realistic.

A good read and recommended to those that are interested in fate and the mixing of cultures.

[Nitya Iyer · Rating 1 out of 5]

I desperately wanted to like this book. Having lived the immigrant, foreigner, displaced person lifestyle for so long, I wanted this book to capture everything that it means to have lost links with my own personal history in the effort to fit into the culture that's welcomed me into it's monied bosom.

But Nazneen is not me. She's a village girl without education and more importantly, the confidence education brings to a traveller navigating a foreign world.

I snacked with her in the dead of night, desperate to fill a void opened when I left my home and all things familiar. But when she wandered into meeting of revolutionaries looking for acceptance, I stood at the door and wondered whether she had left her brain at home.

And really, why are her sister's letters from home so poorly written. I've never seen a native speaker butcher her own language to the point of becoming incomprehensible as brutally as Hasina does. Of course I worry about the poor girl struggling to face the fate she foolishly chose for herself, but must she do it in such a jarring manner.

I wish I hadn't bother to finish the book. I knew how it was going to end early on, but like looking to see what happened in a car crash, I couldn't tear my eyes until the book was over.

My time was wasted. And that I resent most of all

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

I thought this book was really interesting as it gave an insight into being an immigrant in England and it also gave insights into life in Bangladesh. Of course, Monica Ali has been scrutinised because she doesn't speak fluent Bangladeshi etc and I know nothing about the being an immigrant myself but I felt like the representation she gave felt really authentic.

I thought the characters were brilliant. They were really interesting and I felt like nearly every one of them added to the story. They weren't just devices to the main character, in fact, I would say Nazneen was sort of like a device for them to be portrayed. Nazneen was a silent observer. The amount of things she observed was unreal. Even if a character didn't say much, Nazneen observed what they were doing physically and that gave us such an insight into characters. I feel like Nazneen was the way she was because Ali wanted her that way. I thought Nazneen's inner-monologue was similar to that of a third person narration that sees all.

The story was kind of slow but for good reason. Nothing thrilling or exciting happened and that's because it mainly focused on a family. So because of that the pacing was sometimes unbearable but I can understand why. I actually liked the ending a lot. I think it ends with a bit of hope and maybe that's a bit of a cop-out but I'm a sucker for hopeful endings.

I would recommend this book to people who think that they'll enjoy it but just be aware it's quite slow. I would probably read another book by Monica Ali.

[Richard Derus · Rating 2 out of 5]

Rating: 2* of five

A long succession of standard tropes, cliched dialogue, and stock characters made somehow new and fresh by the fact that they're all of Indian descent.

Frankly, I found it lazy and felt the decent author behind the blandness of the book should be given a "D"--not passing, not failing, not much of anything at all. I'll pass on this one's career. Returned to my facility's library shelves, with a slight twinge of guilt for not putting it in the little free library just down the boardwalk instead.

[Emily Coffee and Commentary · Rating 2 out of 5]

An intimate and heartfelt account of finally being true to oneself. We see our characters fall into expectations, routines, and accept whatever they are given, passive and afraid to dare of dreams. Then, how thrilling it is to see those walls come down, and to see our characters put themselves first. The emotions came through in rolling waves, and I was happy with how the ending came together.

[Shovelmonkey1 · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is not what I was expecting. Don’t ask me what I was expecting because it is not a definable quantity and defies explanation but when I bought this book on a whim because I liked the juxtaposition of white background and colourful printed letters, this was not it.

Ali has created a book for those who love the microscopic and want a very detailed picture of a very limited section of space and time. Hold on you might say, this book moves from 1985 and Nazneen’s arrival in England all the way up to and beyond 9/11 so how can that be microscopic. That’s a good 15 years plus some. Yes, it does cover this ground but it covers this ground in the same way that Bill and Ted covered all the major periods of history in their righteous phone box. By jumping about a lot with no real overall picture. But anyway it’s obvious that Monica Ali did not set out to create a worldly overview. Instead it is and was always about Nazneen. And it is through the eyes of Nazneen and her sisters epistles that the story is told.

What’s the story? Primarily that life as a bride in an arranged marriage, on a council estate in a country where you don’t speak the language and hold no currency (I think I may have accidentally started quoting a Paul Simon song but never mind), is going to be largely devoid of joy. And it is up to a point. However the other side of the coin is that joy can be found in the most unpromising of places and under surprising circumstances and that just because your life is one way, does not mean it always has to be so. The power of change lies within you. Shocked? Really, you’re not? I wasn’t either but hey, it’s part of the story so it has to go in the review.

The cast of characters who are fully fleshed out are fairly limited; Nazneen, her husband Chanu and their two daughters Shahana and Bibi are all well developed -you might find them dull, but that’s another issue. Karim is an object of lust with eminently describable forearms and mercurial dress sense and the usurer Mrs Islam, friendly Razia, and unemotional Dr Azad are all quite memorable.

For me, youngest daughter Bibi was the stand-out character (she is the reason for the third star). She doesn’t say anything - well maybe a couple of lines but Monica Ali imbued her with a sense of personality purely through the descriptions of her physical stance, her hair-chewing proclivities and her general watchfulness that gave me a greater sense of her motivations and personality than all of Chanu’s chatter or Mrs Islam’s outrageous theatrics.

If you want a big story where a lot happens then you need to walk away from this book immediately or be endlessly annoyed. If you want a tiny but very detailed slice of life pie to chew on then bring a plate and a fork because you’ve found it.

[Inderjit Sanghera · Rating 5 out of 5]

Monica Ali is able to capture  the sense of discombobulation felt by both both first generation immigrants; whether it is the Shakespeare-loving Chanu, who on the one hand sees himself as a lover of English literature, a sensitive, educated and artistically minded man who missed his calling as the Private Secretary to the Prime Minister, but on the hand deeply feels the deep-seated prejudices he experiences in Britain and begins to hate the modernity taking over the country, a kind of walking contradiction he harks after an idyllic British past which never existed, yet resents the Westernisation of a Bengali culture which he, outside a love of Tagore, he is never really a part on.  On the other hand is his wife Nazneen, or whom marriage at first is a kind of trap-for all his profession for being a liberal, Chanu represents some of the worst aspects of misogyny of  first generation Bangladeshi immigrants; rarely allowed to leave the house, not given permission to be educated, Nazneen feels trapped in a country she not only cannot, but is not allowed to comprehend. On top of this she feels emotionally stifled by becoming a sounding board for Chanu's frequently sententious rambles which she is unable to fully comprehend. Gradually she is able to gain a sense of self, culminating in an affair with the energetic if somewhat mediocre Karim; this acts as a catalyst for her self-actualisation, that she is able to, for the first time in her life, treated as a fully rounded human being and able to experience emotions outside the sense of obedience expected of her, that she is no longer just a daughter, wife or sister but a woman with her own sense of independence. Naturally, like her early attempts at marital rebellion when Chanu rejects her request for her sister to move to England, her affair goes un-noticed by her husband who meanders through life labouring under a series of illusions, blind to what is going on around him. It is difficult to describe the relationship which exists between the two, Chanu, despite the bluster and blindness seems to genuinely care for Nazneen, likewise Nazneen, despite the occasional sense of disgust she feels for him, seems to value the innate sense of kindness in Chanu, the sense of comfort he brings. In many ways Ali describes the emotions which marriages, especially arranged ones, often bring; comfort and convenience.

 The secondary characters who inhabit the novel, from Chanu and Nazneen's daughters Shahana and Bibi to Mrs Islam help add depth to the novel-most of the secondary characters represent an important part of the immigrant experience, whether it be clashes with narrow-minded nationalists or acclimatising to life as a second-generation Bangladeshi girl in London, 'Brick Lane' is a nuanced and well-written depiction of two generations of a Bangladeshi family in a fast-changing world. 

[robin friedman · Rating 3 out of 5]

Monica Ali's "Brick Lane"

This lengthy and ambitious first novel explores, with indifferent success, the lives of Bangladeshi immigrants to London and the growth in independence and modification of culture of a young Bangladeshi woman.

The heroine of the book is Nazneen who at the age of 20 enters an arranged marriage with Chanu, age 40, a Banladeshi struggling to establish himself in London. Chanu is striving for a promotion, is proud of his attempts to secure education, and is portrayed at the outset of the book as rather vain and foolish. Bangladeshi society and traditional Islamic practices are patriarchal by western lights, and much is made of this throughout the book. Nanzeen and Chanu have a son, who dies as an infant, and two daughters Shahana and Bibi. Mid-way in the book, with her growth in independence and awareness of her physical and emotional needs, Nanzeen takes a lover, a young man and would-be Islamic radical named Karim. Nanzeen has a beautiful younger sister, Hasina, who remains in Bangladesh, and writes many letters to her sister in a broken English about the course of her life and its hardships.

The book gives a portrait of life of the Bangladeshi immigrant community in London. I had no prior knowledge of this community. It describes how the immigrants lived in cramped living conditions in the poorer sections of town with up to ten people per room trying to support themselves in a culture utterly foreign to most of them. Some of the people work at assimilation while others try to retain their religious and Bangladeshi identity. Drugs and violence come to plague the community and, of course, the open sexual mores of modern London prove irresistible to many. The community is shown as divided in its response to the terrorism that has come to dominate world news in recent years.

There are a host of well-drawn secondary characters in this novel, including the loan-shark, Mrs. Islam, Nanzeen's lover, named Karim, a friend of Chanu named Dr. Azad, and Razia, a friend of Nanzeen. These characters give weight and texture to the novel and partly succeed in bringing it to life.

The book focuses on Nanzeen's development, and the parallel development of Hasina, as it involves Nanzeen's husband, her lover, and, ultimately her independence. It also centers upon Chanu's and Nanzeen's differing desires in terms of returning to Bangladesh.

I was intrigued by the excellence of the 100-some discussions by my fellow Amazon reviewers and by the wide divergence of considered responses to "Brick Lane". Reading the reviews helped me focus upon my own response to the book. Many reviewers found this novel an outstanding first attempt to describe the immigrant experience of the Bangladeshis and the personal growth of the heroine. Other readers found the novel vastly overpraised, difficult, and trite. There is something to be said for both views, but on the whole I agree with the latter opinion. I was happy to have it reinforced by a substantial group of fellow reviewers.

The book does portray eloquently the difficulties of the Bangladeshi immigrant community and provokes reflection on how many individuals, in immigrating to a new land, respond to the various choices of assimilation on the one hand and remaining deeply attached to one's initial identity on the other hand. Some of the characters in this book are convincingly drawn. But these are largely the secondary characters, such as Mrs. Islam and Dr. Azad, and also, surprisingly enough, Chanu, Nanzeen's husband.

The problems with this book far outweigh its virtues. To begin with, I found it far too long, too slow, and, in many places, dull. It was an unrelieved chore to finish this book. The long sections of letters to Nazneen from her sister Hasina break up the story are difficult to read and detract much more than they add.

Equally important, the character on whom Ms. Ali lavishes most of her attention, Nazneen, is trite and unconvincing. I don't think we need another long novel to inform the reader that traditional Islamic society is patriarchal. At times, both at the beginning and at the end of the story, the book does little more than that. Portions of the Nanzeen's development show more depth, as Nanzeen learns of her sexuality and also stands up to Mrs. Islam. But the main theme of the book is predictable and boring and has been done many times in many other contexts.

While Nazneen's development shows predictable stereotyping, the author, possibly in spite of herself does a better job with Chanu who for all his faults is a complexly drawn human being deserving of compassion and, perhaps, of a better fate.

Thus, in spite of some good moments, I cannot recommend this book due to its length and structure and due to its stereotyped plot line and heroine. I found it worthwhile to review the comments of my fellow reviewers and to offer my own comments here.

Robin Friedman

[Abbie | ab_reads · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book left me with quite mixed feelings to be honest. I wanted to love it, it’s been compared to White Teeth by Zadie Smith which is one of my all time faves, but I thought it lacked the vibrancy and liveliness of White Teeth, despite both of them portraying the lives of immigrants in London.
.
Brick Lane follows Nazneen, a Bangladeshi woman who moves to London for an arranged marriage. I think the slowness of the book comes from the passivity of Nazneen, as she doesn’t really do much for much of the first half. Her husband, Chanu, is such an interesting character though. He is tragic, annoying, inspiring, and hilarious all at once, and I really felt for him trying to find an outlet for his passions in a system where he doesn’t feel appreciated!
.
My favourite parts of the book were the passages describing anecdotes from Nazneen’s childhood in Bangladesh - I wish there were more of them! The letters from Hasina, Nazneen’s sister, were also interesting (not to mention heartbreaking) but the extremely stilted English that they’re written in is off-putting and tiresome to read. It seemed to me that the first batch were written far better than all the others - her writing seemed to deteriorate, I thought it was inconsistent.
.
Overall, plenty of compelling parts, such as Nazneen’s friend Razia’s struggle with her wayward son, but too many dry patches that dragged, and a romantic subplot that I didn’t care for. Ali did a great job of depicting the rising racial tensions in the early 2000s though!
.

[Chris · Rating 1 out of 5]

I hated this book. I found it impossible to get through and this at a time when I was utterly obsessed with novels based in and around women from India. I couldn't finish it and am continually surprised to see it so favorably reviewed and praised. Usually I'm in agreement about a great book, but this one I just don't share the feelings on.
Although i see that other Good Reads readers felt similiarly, which somehow makes me feel better.

[Shannon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nazneen is the eldest of two girls, growing up in a village in Bangladesh. Her younger sister Hasina runs away to marry the young man she is in love with, and not long after that, when she is eighteen, Nazneen is married to a man twenty years older than her and sent to live with him in London.

Her husband, Chanu, is kind and very talkative. They live in a dingy flat on an estate where she makes friends with some other Bangladeshi women. Her world is narrow and small, consisting of the flat and Brick Lane, where she walks one step behind her husband. She is not encouraged to learn English, or even leave the estate. But gradually she moves more and more into the world outside, though all that she knows is what Chanu tells her - and he "is an educated man", as he is constantly saying. They have three children, two girls after the first little boy dies, and some twelve years after she arrived in England she is swept up in an affair with a young man, Karim. Slowly, so slowly, she begins to speak for herself, but always there is this need to be a good, dutiful wife. To cut the skin around the corns on her husband's feet, to cook and keep the flat tidy, to be Chanu's audience as he lectures, to watch as his plans and ambitions fall flat one by one.

The story is told from Nazneen's perspective, sliced through with letters from her sister in Dhaka, whose story is easily more tragic. Nazneen, quiet and unknowledgable, is like a blank canvass for the opinions and impressions of others. When she asks a direct question, rarely is it answered. We see her world, small as it is though at times shaken by greater deeds (like nine-eleven), through her watchful, patient eyes. Many things are shown rather than told, making the real situation easily discernible and very rich and layered.

It is beautifully, skilfully written. A bit slow maybe, but with great impact. I can't deny that it didn't affect me, and bring me down a bit at times. The story slips into a secret place, shines a light on a place generally ignored and dismissed and undervalued: the housewife's domain and life. The politics, the aspirations, the hatred against Muslims, the clash of cultures and struggle to assimilate without abandoning your own culture, it's all there. But through it all there is strength in these women, and determination. The struggle Nazneen goes through, with her own conscience, her own desires and wants so long put aside, her fondness for the often revolting - but not cruel, no, he never beats her - Chanu (a surprisingly sympathetic character, in that it's easy to feel sorry for him), while gang wars and drug abuse and abusive husbands play out in both England and Bangladesh, all creates a vivid portrayal of an immigrant experience common to London, Paris, Sydney, Toronto. Relevant, topical, at times heartarchingly sad, Brick Lane is like Nazneen, watching silently, presenting a story without spoken judgement, biding its time, and at the end, so very very rewarding.

[Annaliese · Rating 1 out of 5]

It's a bit draconian to give a book that sells so well only one star, but that's my rating for a book I don't make it through. I read a full third of this book waiting for the protagonist (Nanzeen) to be interesting and it didn't happen. The one highlight was the small window into Bengali/Pakistani culture (before chapter 2 moves to Britain). It's a book about fate and how one acts as a follower in life. And the exceedingly slow learning process Nanzeen goes through when she starts to discover she can shape her life and maybe that's not wrong. Actually we didn't get quite that far in a third of the book. Needless to say I didn't identify much with the main character, and reading about her abhorrent life was just too much work for what is meant to be an enjoyable activity. I'll blame it on my book group.

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Brick Lane is an interesting book. The central character, Nazneen is totally passive, almost too passive. It should be noted, however, that Monica Ali does a good job of setting up that passivity. From the very first page of the book, the reader is shown and told that Nazneen is passive, that she was raised to leave things to fate.

The problem with the passiveness of the central character is that it can make the book insufferable, you want her to do. It is here that I have to give Ali points. The bulk of the novel is told though the eyes of Nazneen and when it is not Nazneen we are hearing, it is her sister. Because of these characters and how they were raised, the reader must puzzle things out because the woman are silent on such issues. For instance, what exactly happened to Hasina when she left her first husband. Hasina never directly tells us, but an attentive reader knows. The same is true about Nazneen. It seems that though a good portion of the book Nazneen is heavily depressed. In fact, Ali does a very good job of conveying this, from the state of the house to the state of the food to relationships. This book thrives on the main characters not saying things, and having small details speak. Its interesting, and something I did not find annoying. In many ways, the book is about what takes place in silence.


Ali could also make Nazneen's husband Chanu into a brute of a man, but she doesn't. In fact, Chanu is a sympathetic and believable character. When Nazneen hurts him, we feel his pain even though we can understand why Nazneen chose to do what she did.


I'm not sure how accurately the book captures the London immigrant's experience, but it does display a good sense of time and space.

[G. Lawrence · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this book. The author makes the everyday and often sorrowful events of this woman's life poetic. It is about ordinary life, struggles, hardships, conflicts of faith, duty and culture, and yet for all that it is also beautiful... Giving the details of the good in life which comes with the bad... Showing Nazneen's love for her children, her understanding of god and faith, her sister's search for the life she wants... and although it wasn't always easy to read, it was captivating. The world of Nazneen came alive with scents... The lime, the spices, the earth and the rain. And I found myself oddly sorry for Chanu, Nazneen's husband who strives and strives to be known as an educated man, and yet never manages to achieve the dreams he has. Surrounded by his certificates, and never really seeing that his wife is so much more than the "simple village girl" he married, Chanu is as easy to sympathize with , for me, as he was to dislike. His arrogance and inability to see anything beyond his own wishes are so easy to dislike, and yet he fails so many times to become the man he dreams of being that I cannot help but feel for him. To create characters as complex as Chanu and Nazneen, not to mention the host of others, (Mrs Islam being rather like a Dickensian baddie to me) is truly a sign of great talent.

Its the kind of book which demands you pay attention, miss one sentence and you miss a huge part of the story. Its a keeper, going on the book shelf to be read again and again. Really enjoyed this book.

[Queralt✨ · Rating 3 out of 5]

I am not sure I would’ve picked up this book if it weren’t for my book club. I had heard about it but it’s one of these books that you know of but you never pick up, so glad I had an excuse to read it!

I enjoyed the first 30% of the book way more than the rest of it. I like immigrant stories, especially if I’m seeing a woman dealing with a more open society versus a culture that ‘traps’ her into submission. But I felt this book was a bit political at times and it tried to start too many discussions - which makes sense and it’s realistic, but it just became dull after a while. A lot happened but it all felt ‘same same’ (even though it wasn’t, I guess. This is just an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing).

I’ll have more nuanced thoughts (I hope) in my bookclub discussion but for the sake of telling myself I’ve reviewed this, these are my favorite topics/things the book brought up:
- The immigrant experience - hating and loving your new country, missing and despising where you come from. I thought the complexity of it all was very well written about.
- Being away from family members you love while they go through things (I cannot even imagine communicating with my sister via letters).
- How passive and submissive women are supposed to be and the status of Bangladeshi women overall.
- How sometimes religion overlaps reason and humanity.
- Some characters (Hasina and Mrs. Islam). Sorority and just how love was portrayed overall.

[Yasmin Nessa · Rating 1 out of 5]

One of the most awful books I have ever read. Ignoring the outwardly prejudiced attitude towards Sylhetis by a Dhaka-born writer, Ali chose to further insult the protagonist's culture by allowing the Sylheti community (within the book) to ostensibly reveal these negative stereotypes creating a sense of collective self-hatred. Another plot hole I found was the "broken English" within her sister's letters - the protagonist moved to England and can only say two words in English but her sister, who did not once leave Bangladesh and experienced an array of upheaval, can write well in English asides from the improper sentence structures? It didn't make sense to me. If it was the letter translated from Bengali, there was really no need to make the translation sound "broken". It made reading the letters seem disingenuous and irritating to follow. The protagonist herself was entirely too passive to be able to pass off as a metaphor and lastly, her writing style was completely dull. The death of her own child was shown completely blank without emotion (unintentionally). Not a single positive thing to say about this book, do not recommend this to anyone.

[Fatima · Rating 4 out of 5]

$9.99 kindle
My favorite quotes from "Brick Lane" by Monica Ali

Amma said to her daughters: "If God wanted us to ask questions, he would have made us men" (53).

"Razia waved the lollipop in front of Raqib's [the toddler's:] face. He watched it devotedly. He became its disciple. For its sake, he would sacrifice everything" (65).

Hasina on corruption in Bangladeshi education: "University is also close down. All students hold protest. They rallying for right to cheat. In my heart I support. Some who afford pay professor for tutoring buy exam paper. To be fair all must have mean for equal cheating" (105).

"Karim had never even been to Bangladesh. Nazneen felt a stab of pity. Karim was born a foreigner. When he spoke Bengali, he stammered. Why had it puzzled her? She saw only what she wanted to see. Karim did not have his place in the world. That was why he defended it" (335).

[Jonathan Pool · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this in 2022, ahead of the forthcoming Love Marriage , and it’s difficult not to compare the book to other novels which centre on the immigrant experience in Europe/America. Dominicana by Angie Cruz was listed for the Women’s Prize in 2019 and Americana by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie in 2013 also listed for the Womens (Orange) prize.

Brick Lane was my least favourite of the three but it was written over a decade before both the others and hence allowance should be made. Interestingly the importance of home work and sewing is important in both Brick Lane and Dominicana, and both books share this claustrophobic feel with Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance
The Brick Lane community borders the east end of London, and the high rise City financial district. This is where the Bangladeshi community established itself, and the contemporary setting is apparent as the global outrage occasioned by the 9/11 airplane suicide crashes in New York take place at this time.

The leading character is Nazneen, and while she provides the core around which the other characters float, she is one of the least striking characters, something that diminishes the book.
Her sister, Hasina, lives an altogether more dramatic life, and her progress is relayed to London in a series of letters.

Highlights & Lowlights

The book concentrates on a typically delineated local community and its the characters that make or break it. Nazneen is a disappointment, and her sister Zahira, who we get to know exclusively through a series of letters, is also uninspiring. By contrast, Nazneen’s much older husband Chanu continues to interest. His early belief in the power of a (mostly western) education underpins his sense that he is destined for greater things. The realisation that he is likely to be thwarted is not for the lack of trying. From mobile libraries to chair restoration Chanu is the entrepreneur who lacks the street-wise charm to move others. Two of the best on going riffs in the book revolve around him. He is a man whose corns and calluses are in constant need of attention; dutifully managed by Nazreen. Chanu’s interaction with the local GP, Dr. Azad ( ”He puts his nose inside a book because the smell of real life offends him” ) is superb as their mutual delusion includes an impromptu dinner party as the guest, Chanu presses his claim to extend his social acceptability.
“From time to time their conversational paths intersected. More frequently they walked around one another.” ( 204). I found it telling that my interest peaked in passages involving Chanu, an older, ostensibly unattractive man physically, but my interest waned when Karim, a younger, ostensibly more dynamic representative of the younger generation was centre stge.

Historical context

Brick Lane was published in 2003 and memories and images of the 9/11 attack on America were fresh in the mind. Closer to home rioting in the north of England, in Oldham, were being played out on the television. The younger generation in Brick Lane try to come together to articulate their anger and frustration at the interpretation of global events. Meetings are convened to speak as one voice grass roots movements try to find leading voices even as the nascent activism breaks up into smaller factions.

Themes

I work close to Brick Lane, and the area in 2022 is, I suspect, a far cry from the environs described by Monica Ali. It still has a local and unique feel, but not an exclusive one. Brick Lane today, from the refurbished Truman Brewery to the wine bars of Aldgate, it is no longer simply a destination boasting a multiplicity of curry houses. The author herself is an example of a Dhaka born Bangladeshi who life and career are indicative of ‘proper’ integration (of the sort that Chanu aspired towards). Ali still lives in London, but a different part. Her education, career and marriage are all indicative of the changing times of the last twenty years.
Since the publication of Brick Lane Banglashi members of the London community have acceded to important and influential positions in the area.
• Lutfur Rahman – Community activist and Independent politician. From 2010 to 2015, he was the first directly elected mayor of Tower Hamlets and the first Bangladeshi leader of the council.
• Rushanara Ali MP – Labour Party Member of Parliament for Bethnal Green and Bow constituency. She became the first person of Bangladeshi origin to be elected to the House of Commons and one of the first three Muslim women to be elected as a Member of Parliament.
This would seem to prove that while newly arrived immigrants struggle for acceptance, the next generation, British born, are able to achieve great things. If you check out “British Bangladeshi Power and Inspiration 100” the range of Bangladeshi luminaries is impressive (it includes Nadya Hussein of Bake Off fame).
This is in contrast to what Chanu describes as the “The immigrant tragedy” of Razia’s husband:
“in his heart he never left the village”


I’m glad to have read Brick Lane and it has set me up for the latest Monica Ali novel. To a certain extent it seems a bit dated, and in context that may be a good thing.

[Beth Bonini · Rating 5 out of 5]

July 2010
I've been currently reading this since July . . . and even though I'm about to hit the climax of the novel (I hope), I don't know if I can be bothered. I can't understand why this book just doesn't grip me; but I keep putting it aside for other, more compelling, books.

July 2014
After four years, I picked this book up again. For some reason, I was able to imaginatively immerse myself in the world of the characters in a way that I hadn't on my first (incomplete) reading. Brilliant characterisation -- particularly of Chanu, the hopeless bore of a husband, and Hasina, the hapless sister whose wretched life in Dhaka provides such fascinating contrast to the main character's London existence. I found so much descriptive richness and humour that passed me by on the first reading! The religious/political bits were a bit of a bore, but then Ali means them to be (I think). The Bangladeshi immigrants' attempts to cling to their culture, and find an identity in it, is the story of every immigrant really. What to keep and what to discard? Every person has to find his or her own way when it comes to assimilation, and I was pleasantly surprised by the outcome of Nazneem's journey.