I liked the writing. A lot. The author is descriptive when she needs to be, and I found much of it beautiful and vivid.
I adored the connection of the characters to the Nile, the one unifying factor tying each of them to Egypt. I liked how Rafei was able to connect the spirit of the Nile into something real and concrete: characters’ adoration and dismay towards Egypt. Still, they stay.
Spoilers!
Suad was an interesting character although I didn’t feel as much of an inclination towards her as I presume the author wanted. Possibly this was due to a culture clash, as her character came off judgmental and laced with modern atrocities. A prime example being: trying to find her adult son a wife when she discovers he is 1. clearly with a woman 2. most likely not virginal. A wife who would have “upright morals and the bloody sheets to prove it.”
Yikes. Her standards for her son (and men) are vastly different for women., which (yes) is due to her traditional beliefs. While I can’t foul her character on her adherence to her culture and religion, it became hard for me to like the character at all.
Another unlikable character was Sami who was so overwhelmed with his cultural/familial obligation, that he often dismissed his moral obligation. But he wasn’t so drawn to his cultural/familial obligation that he chose to honor it. Did Sami have feelings? Torn between Rose (straying from traditionalism) and is mother, Suad (being a “good religious boy”): he can never choose and that, in the end, is so watery. I wanted so badly for him to stand for something or someone.
Throughout the book, Suad’s overt obsession with her son and lack of interest with the child (Ayah) that still lived in her home was bothersome. She plucked her lemons, called her son, and sighed at her daughter.
The author portrays Suad’s recognition of her “constant ruminations of men and lemons.” And men and lemons were indeed her preoccupation, which led to a banal understanding of her. In the end, I feel compelled to feel sorry for Suad but only on a basic level. Her judgements overpower this feeling of sympathy.
I feel the closest pull is to Jamila. Her character is both calm (when being objectified by men she works for) but strong (traveling on her own, amongst a revolution, to find her missing husband). I like Rafei’s ability to conjugate both identities into one warm, likable character. I also liked the part where she reads tealeaves.
Overall, I think the judgmental tones didn’t sit right with me. That being said this is coming from an American in 2020, whom has feminist ideals and doesn’t see the value in over-dedication to religion/culture when it (obviously) makes one unhappy. For example, Suad’s devotion to her estranged husband who has cheated and embarrassed her.
I love her descriptions: favorites include flesh being equated to milk pudding. I enjoy reading intricate/quirky but eloquent descriptions, and her writing encompassed that all. Drank every word like a sticky-sweet glass of Qamar El-Din juice, blood-orange skies, verdant lotus. She is an amazing writer and I enjoyed the book. I just couldn’t get over the judging.