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The House of Rust
The first Graywolf Press African Fiction Prize winner, a story of a girl’s fantastical sea voyage to rescue her father
The House of Rust is an enchanting novel about a Hadrami girl in Mombasa. When her fisherman father goes missing, Aisha takes to the sea on a magical boat made of a skeleton to rescue him. She is guided by a talking scholar’s cat (and soon crows, goats, and other animals all have their say, too). On this journey Aisha meets three terrifying sea monsters. After she survives a final confrontation with Baba wa Papa, the father of all sharks, she rescues her own father, and hopes that life will return to normal. But at home, things only grow stranger.
Khadija Abdalla Bajaber’s debut is a magical realist coming-of-age tale told through the lens of the Swahili and diasporic Hadrami culture in Mombasa, Kenya. Richly descriptive and written with an imaginative hand and sharp eye for unusual detail, The House of Rust is a memorable novel by a thrilling new voice.
The House of Rust is an enchanting novel about a Hadrami girl in Mombasa. When her fisherman father goes missing, Aisha takes to the sea on a magical boat made of a skeleton to rescue him. She is guided by a talking scholar’s cat (and soon crows, goats, and other animals all have their say, too). On this journey Aisha meets three terrifying sea monsters. After she survives a final confrontation with Baba wa Papa, the father of all sharks, she rescues her own father, and hopes that life will return to normal. But at home, things only grow stranger.
Khadija Abdalla Bajaber’s debut is a magical realist coming-of-age tale told through the lens of the Swahili and diasporic Hadrami culture in Mombasa, Kenya. Richly descriptive and written with an imaginative hand and sharp eye for unusual detail, The House of Rust is a memorable novel by a thrilling new voice.
272 pages, Paperback
First published October 19, 2021
203 people are currently reading
7260 people want to read
About the author
Khadija Abdalla Bajaber
1 book95 followersKHADIJA ABDALLA BAJABER is a Mombasa-born poet and novelist with a degree in journalism. A Kenyan of Hadrami descent, she writes about the ill-documented history of the Hadrami diaspora. Her work has been published in Brainstorm Kenya and the Enkare Review, and she is the assistant poetry editor for the Panorama Travel Journal’s East African Issue. She lives in Mombasa, Kenya.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 299 reviews
May 24, 2021
I've never read anything quite like House of Rust before, and I'm going to be obsessing about it for quite some time. This is the story of a girl named Aisha whose father has gotten lost at sea — she goes to rescue him on a boat made out of bones, with a talking cat for company. And that's just the first half. House of Rust is a gorgeous coming-of-age story about a girl who rescues her wayward father only to discover a thirst for adventure and knowledge in herself. There is a lot of weird creepy stuff in this book, and an undercurrent of darkness and danger, but there's also a ton of sweetness. The ending made me cry. There are talking animals and sea monsters! You are so not ready for this rich and astonishing book.
Things that blew me away in House of Rust:
1) This book has incredibly gorgeous language and is just full of astonishing imagery. In particular, all the sequences where Aisha is at sea in her bone boat, the descriptions of the ocean at night were incredibly vivid and jarringly strange. Beautifully observed depictions of nature shade over into the surreal and the supernatural, so that you can't quite tell where the strangeness of real nature ends and the magical weirdness begins. Seriously, I wanted to lose myself forever in the dark spaces of Bajaber's prose.
2) Aisha is an incredible hero: headstrong, selfish, generous and protective of her family. Aisha's heroism doesn't just raise her up — it transforms the lives of her father, her grandmother and her friend Zubeir.
3) House of Rust is a coming-of-age story that acknowledges the real complexity of growing up: letting go of your illusions but seizing your dreams. Feeling ambivalent but passionate. Realizing that adults don't have all (or any) of the answers, but loving them anyway.
4) The animals in this book are so well done. This is the best depiction of crow politics I've seen in forever, and all the other creatures have so much personality. Also, this book created a vivid image of Mombasa in my head and I'm now longing to visit the real place.
I could go on and on. You should definitely pre-order this one --- you'll thank me later.
Things that blew me away in House of Rust:
1) This book has incredibly gorgeous language and is just full of astonishing imagery. In particular, all the sequences where Aisha is at sea in her bone boat, the descriptions of the ocean at night were incredibly vivid and jarringly strange. Beautifully observed depictions of nature shade over into the surreal and the supernatural, so that you can't quite tell where the strangeness of real nature ends and the magical weirdness begins. Seriously, I wanted to lose myself forever in the dark spaces of Bajaber's prose.
2) Aisha is an incredible hero: headstrong, selfish, generous and protective of her family. Aisha's heroism doesn't just raise her up — it transforms the lives of her father, her grandmother and her friend Zubeir.
3) House of Rust is a coming-of-age story that acknowledges the real complexity of growing up: letting go of your illusions but seizing your dreams. Feeling ambivalent but passionate. Realizing that adults don't have all (or any) of the answers, but loving them anyway.
4) The animals in this book are so well done. This is the best depiction of crow politics I've seen in forever, and all the other creatures have so much personality. Also, this book created a vivid image of Mombasa in my head and I'm now longing to visit the real place.
I could go on and on. You should definitely pre-order this one --- you'll thank me later.
September 12, 2025
A magical and winding coming-of-age story that forgoes any sort of expected linear storytelling. This aspect made it quite creative but also a bit difficult to follow or remain interested in continually.
November 26, 2021
This is such a unique and fresh book. Yes, others have commented on how this is unlike anything they've read and I agree. It's innovative, and creatively imagined and crafted. It's dense too. It's unusual....it has magical realism with a talking cat, squabbling crows, etc.
Yes, I agree it's a coming-of-age book. But it carves a new approach to that. Aisha's arc starts from a certain strength already and by the end of the book it blossoms further. She finds herself more clear. Her earlier inklings and assertions become polished and enhanced. It's a statement of self-made strength.
And I'd go so far as to say that almost every character in this book is different by the book's end; they are transformed...for the better largely.
I found the text to be dense; it has lots of meaning and nuance. And the plotting is intricate...I appreciated skimming the beginning after completion to see how foreshadowing elements had been laid.
I was also very touched by her acknowledgements...and her whole approach and attitude. I'd like to read more of this author's works. It's a refreshing take on writing and storycrafting.
My quotes could be spoilers.
Several quotes:
On the twisting path she can imagine she is walking toward something rather than in between things.
I should congratulate you on your restraint, Aisha thought in amazement, if I didn't think you were already impressed with your own tolerance.
It was not the only kind of sickness with her. When your heart is full of birds and you cannot fly, they peck at you until you are nothing. Until you are vanquished.
...Aisha's eyes slipped shut, searching for calm, or calm's more dignified sister: patience.
...She had never had the presence of mind to pretend that men made her shy. She usually ignored them instead of doing a great deal of acrobatics of acknowledging them. Cold indifference was present in her now and she paid attention to none of them, doing her duty plainly. That was even worse than being shy, because it could not be a virtue.
All human beings feel beauty instinctively, as the attraction is natural and instantaneous--and yet, Aisha's instinct was matched by a stronger reaction, something learned: a determination in her, a refusal to grant beauty power.
"I can't stop you but I can choose how you go. You foolish girl, I love you. If I cannot forget you I mustn't forgive you--but you are mine and I love you either way, and you can't love and not trust, not believe. So leave with my love, my trust, my belief."
This story is one told by Khadija Abdalla Bajaber. If there is any good in it, then that good belongs to all. If there is any ill in it, that ill belongs only to she who told it.
From the Acknowledgements:
This book began as an amusing, self-indulgent experiment--a way to write what I know and to know how little I know it. A project led with love and tenderness, with curiosity and imagination unfettered by questions of what anyone would think. I was writing it for myself, to prove something to myself. I had to believe in me, and little by little, I began to realize just who else did that too....The more I wrote, secretly, quietly, the more my heart grew, you were all living in it without even knowing. A few pages closing a novel aren't going to be enough, it is difficult to talk about. It is too wide, if I don't name you in the written word, I've named you in prayer, in the heart of my heart.
Yes, I agree it's a coming-of-age book. But it carves a new approach to that. Aisha's arc starts from a certain strength already and by the end of the book it blossoms further. She finds herself more clear. Her earlier inklings and assertions become polished and enhanced. It's a statement of self-made strength.
And I'd go so far as to say that almost every character in this book is different by the book's end; they are transformed...for the better largely.
I found the text to be dense; it has lots of meaning and nuance. And the plotting is intricate...I appreciated skimming the beginning after completion to see how foreshadowing elements had been laid.
I was also very touched by her acknowledgements...and her whole approach and attitude. I'd like to read more of this author's works. It's a refreshing take on writing and storycrafting.
My quotes could be spoilers.
Several quotes:
On the twisting path she can imagine she is walking toward something rather than in between things.
I should congratulate you on your restraint, Aisha thought in amazement, if I didn't think you were already impressed with your own tolerance.
It was not the only kind of sickness with her. When your heart is full of birds and you cannot fly, they peck at you until you are nothing. Until you are vanquished.
...Aisha's eyes slipped shut, searching for calm, or calm's more dignified sister: patience.
...She had never had the presence of mind to pretend that men made her shy. She usually ignored them instead of doing a great deal of acrobatics of acknowledging them. Cold indifference was present in her now and she paid attention to none of them, doing her duty plainly. That was even worse than being shy, because it could not be a virtue.
All human beings feel beauty instinctively, as the attraction is natural and instantaneous--and yet, Aisha's instinct was matched by a stronger reaction, something learned: a determination in her, a refusal to grant beauty power.
"I can't stop you but I can choose how you go. You foolish girl, I love you. If I cannot forget you I mustn't forgive you--but you are mine and I love you either way, and you can't love and not trust, not believe. So leave with my love, my trust, my belief."
This story is one told by Khadija Abdalla Bajaber. If there is any good in it, then that good belongs to all. If there is any ill in it, that ill belongs only to she who told it.
From the Acknowledgements:
This book began as an amusing, self-indulgent experiment--a way to write what I know and to know how little I know it. A project led with love and tenderness, with curiosity and imagination unfettered by questions of what anyone would think. I was writing it for myself, to prove something to myself. I had to believe in me, and little by little, I began to realize just who else did that too....The more I wrote, secretly, quietly, the more my heart grew, you were all living in it without even knowing. A few pages closing a novel aren't going to be enough, it is difficult to talk about. It is too wide, if I don't name you in the written word, I've named you in prayer, in the heart of my heart.
January 24, 2022
I’ve never struggled with a book as much as I did with this one but had to finish it as it was part of our book club pick. I’m not a fan of fantasy so I found the whimsical characters and storyline difficult to follow. There’s just something about talking animals and fantastical creatures that my brain can’t wrap itself around…
I do think the author’s descriptive writing is beautifully vivid and engaging (although she did lose me from time to time) and the overall depiction of Mombasa was quite magical yet true to what we know.
Overall would only recommend if you’re a fan of fantasy and Swahili/Mombasa culture!
I do think the author’s descriptive writing is beautifully vivid and engaging (although she did lose me from time to time) and the overall depiction of Mombasa was quite magical yet true to what we know.
Overall would only recommend if you’re a fan of fantasy and Swahili/Mombasa culture!
November 30, 2021
For me, the best phrase I can think of to explain the underpinning of this book is ‘a curious case of boundless curiosity’.
I spent the first few chapters of this book a) trying to figure out the genre and b) trying (& probably failing) to become acquainted with all the cultural, traditional, linguistic and folklore references.
I then decided to give up trying so hard and just immerse myself in it, so even if that meant not following up every reference on, yes, Google, I was able to appreciate the way the novel carried itself, as steadfast and dignified as the wonderfully unshrinking heroine, Aisha. I wish that I had even 40% of her stubbornness.
There’s a sprinkle of everything in this novel. A talking cat who in an odd way, reminds me of a beloved family member of mine whose wisdom makes them both stoic and endearing, the unnerving creature of Almassi, an elusive father, a larger-than-life grandmother, a boat made from fish bones, an adventure plot with writing so rich I felt like I was watching not reading, goats (Aisha talking to them made me laugh a bit), an insight into Hadrami culture and fables, awkward Hassan dropping his eggs everywhere, a detached shadow, riddles, and most of all, reading a character arc of learning how to both stay true to one’s yearnings whilst not mercilessly stamping on the hearts of others. It is a coming-of-age tale, but it also felt unfinished in a way that reflects the idea that you never really stop coming-of-age as you navigate every new phase of your life.
Whilst the book was steeped in magical realism, there was also a great deal of social commentary woven into the story that stood out for me. The fiery dialogue between Hababa and Aisha, on the topic of marriage and the gulf in understanding between them, quite literally broke my heart in two “Do you think it’s wrong for women to marry? Do you think you’re better than us?” and in response, “I won’t dismiss your destiny in order to trust in mine… because you have chosen him over me!”.
The following extract was equally provoking, on the obsession of ethnic claims and how strongly that ties in to pride and belonging. I wonder, do the older generations ever stop and think the impact this has on not just their younger family members, but also on themselves?
"Mombasa blood, the Uswahili that Hababa claimed wasn’t really Swahili, because wasn’t her father an Arab? Her father’s father was an Arab, all the fathers before, Arabs. But who, Aisha had often wondered, was Shida’s father? And what of all the non-Arab mothers in that long line of so-called Arab fathers whose names no one clutched to remember, because it was better to be who your father was, to be Arab? The Swahili was in Aisha’s blood, in her mouth, on her face. Not something that could be denied or waved away.”
The following passage spoke volumes about the state of modernity:
"…to turn living into transaction, a business of debts one cannot escape from. Do you want to escape? Adam’s folk these days read and memorise and graze beneath a roof called God, like bleating sheep. Is one a believer in inheriting the true faith like a brass pot? Do you not think for yourself how to be improved by it and to improve it? Being is to be alive, awake – to believe, not to roll under the world as it is. If you do not go to war with yourself … at the end of all worlds, will you show how neat your miserly kept book of sums? Or will you have had the courage and say I did deeds good and bad, I disagreed with the world around me. I was awake and I believed, and I doubted, but I was not immobilised. I was alive.”
I found the character of ‘the other Aisha’ an interesting arc; was she meant to be an example Aisha in another life, were they opposites to highlight their contrasts or, as their relationship developed a bit, they became two sides of the same coin? “It was sweet. She did not hate this thoughtless kindness. She did not flinch." It was interesting to reflect on that.
In sum, it’s a rich, stunning, thought-provoking novel which I will dip into every now and again.
The only issue I had with the novel was the ending – whilst it was heart-warming and exciting, it did also feel somewhat feel like a loose end. I was eager to see Aisha find the House of Rust. I don’t know if the point was to keep it open ended for another instalment, or if I missed the memo and the House of Rust is actually some greater metaphor, but based on how I interpreted it at least, it did feel like it was some sort of tangible ‘place’ or ‘state’, and it would have felt more wholesome if even if we didn’t see Aisha explore it, at least ‘arrive’ at it.
Finally, I always make a point of reading the acknowledgments before I read a book. I like to start a book knowing a bit about the author’s mind, and for this one, I found it endearing that this began as a self-project, for the author’s own musings and then it evolved into such a novel. This book doesn’t just feel authentic, it is, and it’s a rarity to come across amidst the current endless churning out of fiction. This book is both a return to form and a poetic and unique take on how deeply fiction can make you feel.
"As a young boy, I used to hear them say: keep your heart open, but the heart of your heart closed. Do you understand? It's deeper than anatomy, deeper than body ... deep in your heart - beneath the sea, beneath the lantern-eyed, many toothed things, beneath the flying feathered fish and the many-eyed serpents ... even the bed of that ocean - there is another heart, and in that other heart, there is another name ... a buried thing that cannot be killed, for to strike at it would be to rupture a wound beyond all wounds."
I spent the first few chapters of this book a) trying to figure out the genre and b) trying (& probably failing) to become acquainted with all the cultural, traditional, linguistic and folklore references.
I then decided to give up trying so hard and just immerse myself in it, so even if that meant not following up every reference on, yes, Google, I was able to appreciate the way the novel carried itself, as steadfast and dignified as the wonderfully unshrinking heroine, Aisha. I wish that I had even 40% of her stubbornness.
There’s a sprinkle of everything in this novel. A talking cat who in an odd way, reminds me of a beloved family member of mine whose wisdom makes them both stoic and endearing, the unnerving creature of Almassi, an elusive father, a larger-than-life grandmother, a boat made from fish bones, an adventure plot with writing so rich I felt like I was watching not reading, goats (Aisha talking to them made me laugh a bit), an insight into Hadrami culture and fables, awkward Hassan dropping his eggs everywhere, a detached shadow, riddles, and most of all, reading a character arc of learning how to both stay true to one’s yearnings whilst not mercilessly stamping on the hearts of others. It is a coming-of-age tale, but it also felt unfinished in a way that reflects the idea that you never really stop coming-of-age as you navigate every new phase of your life.
Whilst the book was steeped in magical realism, there was also a great deal of social commentary woven into the story that stood out for me. The fiery dialogue between Hababa and Aisha, on the topic of marriage and the gulf in understanding between them, quite literally broke my heart in two “Do you think it’s wrong for women to marry? Do you think you’re better than us?” and in response, “I won’t dismiss your destiny in order to trust in mine… because you have chosen him over me!”.
The following extract was equally provoking, on the obsession of ethnic claims and how strongly that ties in to pride and belonging. I wonder, do the older generations ever stop and think the impact this has on not just their younger family members, but also on themselves?
"Mombasa blood, the Uswahili that Hababa claimed wasn’t really Swahili, because wasn’t her father an Arab? Her father’s father was an Arab, all the fathers before, Arabs. But who, Aisha had often wondered, was Shida’s father? And what of all the non-Arab mothers in that long line of so-called Arab fathers whose names no one clutched to remember, because it was better to be who your father was, to be Arab? The Swahili was in Aisha’s blood, in her mouth, on her face. Not something that could be denied or waved away.”
The following passage spoke volumes about the state of modernity:
"…to turn living into transaction, a business of debts one cannot escape from. Do you want to escape? Adam’s folk these days read and memorise and graze beneath a roof called God, like bleating sheep. Is one a believer in inheriting the true faith like a brass pot? Do you not think for yourself how to be improved by it and to improve it? Being is to be alive, awake – to believe, not to roll under the world as it is. If you do not go to war with yourself … at the end of all worlds, will you show how neat your miserly kept book of sums? Or will you have had the courage and say I did deeds good and bad, I disagreed with the world around me. I was awake and I believed, and I doubted, but I was not immobilised. I was alive.”
I found the character of ‘the other Aisha’ an interesting arc; was she meant to be an example Aisha in another life, were they opposites to highlight their contrasts or, as their relationship developed a bit, they became two sides of the same coin? “It was sweet. She did not hate this thoughtless kindness. She did not flinch." It was interesting to reflect on that.
In sum, it’s a rich, stunning, thought-provoking novel which I will dip into every now and again.
The only issue I had with the novel was the ending – whilst it was heart-warming and exciting, it did also feel somewhat feel like a loose end. I was eager to see Aisha find the House of Rust. I don’t know if the point was to keep it open ended for another instalment, or if I missed the memo and the House of Rust is actually some greater metaphor, but based on how I interpreted it at least, it did feel like it was some sort of tangible ‘place’ or ‘state’, and it would have felt more wholesome if even if we didn’t see Aisha explore it, at least ‘arrive’ at it.
Finally, I always make a point of reading the acknowledgments before I read a book. I like to start a book knowing a bit about the author’s mind, and for this one, I found it endearing that this began as a self-project, for the author’s own musings and then it evolved into such a novel. This book doesn’t just feel authentic, it is, and it’s a rarity to come across amidst the current endless churning out of fiction. This book is both a return to form and a poetic and unique take on how deeply fiction can make you feel.
"As a young boy, I used to hear them say: keep your heart open, but the heart of your heart closed. Do you understand? It's deeper than anatomy, deeper than body ... deep in your heart - beneath the sea, beneath the lantern-eyed, many toothed things, beneath the flying feathered fish and the many-eyed serpents ... even the bed of that ocean - there is another heart, and in that other heart, there is another name ... a buried thing that cannot be killed, for to strike at it would be to rupture a wound beyond all wounds."
January 13, 2022
I got lost a little in the plot. This book could truly be 70 pages shorter in my opinion. The author is a brilliant writer. Very descriptive. It’s just written in a style I’m not quite used to. And I feel like some characters were forgettable in the way that they were introduced and reintroduced throughout the story.
I love that the story is set in the Kenyan coast. And the descriptions are rich and intriguing. The best way I could describe this book is…curious. A curious read. I really wanted to love this book but I’m not quite used to the writing style and I read it much slower than I expected.
I love that the story is set in the Kenyan coast. And the descriptions are rich and intriguing. The best way I could describe this book is…curious. A curious read. I really wanted to love this book but I’m not quite used to the writing style and I read it much slower than I expected.
June 3, 2025
There’s a lot I admire about this literary fantasy novel. It is very non-western, set in Kenya and written by a Kenyan author; it’s vivid in its depictions of place as well as culture and family dynamics, and the heroine’s coming-of-age story and questioning of cultural traditions is written in a way that feels authentic to and grounded in that setting. It is interestingly structured, starting off with a seafaring adventure and then returning home in the second half, where the heroine has to make real decisions about the rest of her life. It’s imaginative, with lots of supernatural and animal characters, and it is thoughtful and sweet, with a strong depiction of sometimes-fraught family relationships. And it is well-written.
At the same time, it’s got to be the longest 252-page book I’ve ever read. It took me more than two weeks and the motivation of a book club to battle my way through this short novel. Maybe it’s the writing: I would describe Bajaber’s style as poetic, not in the usual sense reviewers of novels use the term, just to indicate someone is good with words, but in the sense of actual poetry, putting rhythm and symbolism before clarity, which can make it hard to follow. Aspects of the story confused me, some of which may be cultural (it was often difficult to tell who was related and how). Overall, despite intellectually appreciating the book, I did not enjoy it and found it a slog. So while I’m glad it has found some no doubt much-deserved recognition, it’s not one I would recommend.
At the same time, it’s got to be the longest 252-page book I’ve ever read. It took me more than two weeks and the motivation of a book club to battle my way through this short novel. Maybe it’s the writing: I would describe Bajaber’s style as poetic, not in the usual sense reviewers of novels use the term, just to indicate someone is good with words, but in the sense of actual poetry, putting rhythm and symbolism before clarity, which can make it hard to follow. Aspects of the story confused me, some of which may be cultural (it was often difficult to tell who was related and how). Overall, despite intellectually appreciating the book, I did not enjoy it and found it a slog. So while I’m glad it has found some no doubt much-deserved recognition, it’s not one I would recommend.
January 27, 2023
(3.5/5)
This is a hard book to review, because there were so many moments that I absolutely loved, but the overall structure and pacing is a little strange.
As the blurb suggests, it is a coming-of-age story following a young Hadrami girl named Aisha from Mombasa, Kenya. However, the part of the story described in that blurb – in which she sets out to find her missing father in a skeleton boat with the aid of a talking cat - is only the first third of the book. That part of the story is dramatic and rather dark, with a lot of creepy nautical magical stuff. The middle third is almost a family sit-com, dealing with the interactions between Aisha, her father, her grandmother, the grandmother’s childhood boyfriend, the boy who inadvisably wants to marry Aisha who she is absolutely not into, a shy “milk-colored” girl, and others. Funny and heartwarming is the prevailing vibe. However, periodically weaving through the first two sections is a sub-plot involving some crows that are watching Aisha suspiciously, and an entity known as Almassi, or “the Old Snake”. That storyline takes over toward the end, though Almassi turns out to be quite different from the impression I’d formed of him from the crows’ whispering. Not a love interest though, thank goodness!
This structure results in a very unusual pattern of narrative tension, for a novel. It isn’t bad, necessarily, but it can throw you off if you are expecting a more standard structure. If this were a manga, on the other hand, it wouldn’t feel strange at all! It would just be three different arcs in an ongoing story. Another comparison that may relate better to why the book reads like this could be a collection of stories about some god or folk hero. If, for example, you were to try to turn a bunch of tales about Anansi into a single book without picking one of them to provide the narrative throughline and making the others secondary, it would have a similarly episodic structure. Bajaber notes that she is writing what she knows, so possibly this structure reflects the storytelling traditions she is most familiar with.
I hope there is a sequel planned, because another feature that might leave some readers unsatisfied is the large number of unresolved plot-threads. We never really find out what the “House of Rust” is, for example – it is more of a future destination. Also, how did Almassi end up confined to the island? Why were all the animals freaking out at the idea of Aisha being a monster-killer? The way Aisha interacts with the shy, veiled girl suggests some kind of important relationship – friendly or romantic – might develop, but it doesn’t…in this book, anyway.
Still, I really enjoyed the various magical elements - Sea serpents, wise talking cats, dream fish that can be cut out of a man’s heart, detachable shadows, and more. And the creepiness of some of the writing!:
“‘A pretty song from so plain a girl.’ The words came, but his stone mouth did not move. It was the many overlapping whispers of children, wispy and scraping that chalky shiver along her arms like a scythe over stone. ‘Might be I should eat such a vessel, wet cat and all…but you have lied to me. That is a courtesy in itself. I shall tell you a story so old I scarcely remember where I myself truly began.’
And given how many orphan protagonists there are in middle-grade and young-adult literature, it is really fun to see Aisha interact with her family. Her grandmother reminds me a lot of my abuelita, in her strength as a widowed mother, and in her supposedly conservative views always tempered by practicality and love:
"'I don't want to get married. I'm going to travel the world.' Hababa, with astonishing openness, nodded...'God,' she said piously, powerfully, 'please give Aisha husband to travel the world with.'"
Her dad was not always there for her. But when he decides to be, he is so good at it!
“I’m saying I will not stand in your way. But let them say…I was a father, not a bystander. It’s selfish, but I want to be proud of you. One day, you can look back and know that your strength came not out of spite, but because there were people who loved you, who wanted you to be strong.”
This is a hard book to review, because there were so many moments that I absolutely loved, but the overall structure and pacing is a little strange.
As the blurb suggests, it is a coming-of-age story following a young Hadrami girl named Aisha from Mombasa, Kenya. However, the part of the story described in that blurb – in which she sets out to find her missing father in a skeleton boat with the aid of a talking cat - is only the first third of the book. That part of the story is dramatic and rather dark, with a lot of creepy nautical magical stuff. The middle third is almost a family sit-com, dealing with the interactions between Aisha, her father, her grandmother, the grandmother’s childhood boyfriend, the boy who inadvisably wants to marry Aisha who she is absolutely not into, a shy “milk-colored” girl, and others. Funny and heartwarming is the prevailing vibe. However, periodically weaving through the first two sections is a sub-plot involving some crows that are watching Aisha suspiciously, and an entity known as Almassi, or “the Old Snake”. That storyline takes over toward the end, though Almassi turns out to be quite different from the impression I’d formed of him from the crows’ whispering. Not a love interest though, thank goodness!
This structure results in a very unusual pattern of narrative tension, for a novel. It isn’t bad, necessarily, but it can throw you off if you are expecting a more standard structure. If this were a manga, on the other hand, it wouldn’t feel strange at all! It would just be three different arcs in an ongoing story. Another comparison that may relate better to why the book reads like this could be a collection of stories about some god or folk hero. If, for example, you were to try to turn a bunch of tales about Anansi into a single book without picking one of them to provide the narrative throughline and making the others secondary, it would have a similarly episodic structure. Bajaber notes that she is writing what she knows, so possibly this structure reflects the storytelling traditions she is most familiar with.
I hope there is a sequel planned, because another feature that might leave some readers unsatisfied is the large number of unresolved plot-threads. We never really find out what the “House of Rust” is, for example – it is more of a future destination. Also, how did Almassi end up confined to the island? Why were all the animals freaking out at the idea of Aisha being a monster-killer? The way Aisha interacts with the shy, veiled girl suggests some kind of important relationship – friendly or romantic – might develop, but it doesn’t…in this book, anyway.
Still, I really enjoyed the various magical elements - Sea serpents, wise talking cats, dream fish that can be cut out of a man’s heart, detachable shadows, and more. And the creepiness of some of the writing!:
“‘A pretty song from so plain a girl.’ The words came, but his stone mouth did not move. It was the many overlapping whispers of children, wispy and scraping that chalky shiver along her arms like a scythe over stone. ‘Might be I should eat such a vessel, wet cat and all…but you have lied to me. That is a courtesy in itself. I shall tell you a story so old I scarcely remember where I myself truly began.’
And given how many orphan protagonists there are in middle-grade and young-adult literature, it is really fun to see Aisha interact with her family. Her grandmother reminds me a lot of my abuelita, in her strength as a widowed mother, and in her supposedly conservative views always tempered by practicality and love:
"'I don't want to get married. I'm going to travel the world.' Hababa, with astonishing openness, nodded...'God,' she said piously, powerfully, 'please give Aisha husband to travel the world with.'"
Her dad was not always there for her. But when he decides to be, he is so good at it!
“I’m saying I will not stand in your way. But let them say…I was a father, not a bystander. It’s selfish, but I want to be proud of you. One day, you can look back and know that your strength came not out of spite, but because there were people who loved you, who wanted you to be strong.”
March 8, 2023
House of Rust is very meandering, mythic fantasy, so won't be for everyone, but I adored it! Aisha's father is a fisherman of Mombasa whose heart is with the sea, but he always comes home, until one day he doesn't. In their fishing community they wait 5 days after someone is lost at sea to hold the funeral, so Aisha is determined to set out to bring her father back before the 5 days is up. With a little help, she finds herself in a bone ship with a talking cat to advise her, as she set off to the reaches of the sea, encountering strange beasts along the way. But that's only the first half.
I think broadly that first half would be fairly widely appealing, and feels very reminiscent of a less whimsical Kubo and the Two Strings (I love). The second half involves a lot more talking/thinking and less plot, though we have an outcast crow POV character who I really loved and wanted more from, you kind of have to be happy to enjoy the prose and characters without a lot of movement and conclusion to enjoy the 2nd half. I really adored Aisha as a headstrong character, she knows exactly what she wants from life, has no interest in succumbing to social or gender expectations of her. Though we have a young protagonist, I wouldn't really call it YA nor does it have any YA tropes (the format almost sounds like coming of age, but she's already so sure of herself there really isn't that element), but I would say it's probably all age appropriate. Over all, just thrilled the LeGuin prize put this on my radar, and I will be checking out whatever the author comes out with next.
I think broadly that first half would be fairly widely appealing, and feels very reminiscent of a less whimsical Kubo and the Two Strings (I love). The second half involves a lot more talking/thinking and less plot, though we have an outcast crow POV character who I really loved and wanted more from, you kind of have to be happy to enjoy the prose and characters without a lot of movement and conclusion to enjoy the 2nd half. I really adored Aisha as a headstrong character, she knows exactly what she wants from life, has no interest in succumbing to social or gender expectations of her. Though we have a young protagonist, I wouldn't really call it YA nor does it have any YA tropes (the format almost sounds like coming of age, but she's already so sure of herself there really isn't that element), but I would say it's probably all age appropriate. Over all, just thrilled the LeGuin prize put this on my radar, and I will be checking out whatever the author comes out with next.
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August 1, 2022The most boring book I have read in 2022!
October 22, 2022
WINNER OF THE 2022 URSULA K. LE GUIN PRIZE FOR FICTION
A magnificent read, blending mythopoeic fiction with a sort of young adult coming of age story. I found it hard to immerse myself in the story because I was often distracted by its gorgeous imagery and prose. The book creates a vivid image of its characters (the headstrong Aisha is a feminist hero Le Guin would be proud of) without compromising their realistic story arcs. This book is a LOT. I think I will have to re-read it to understand it better.
It almost felt like an African Patricia McKillip, which is just about the highest praise I can give a book.
A magnificent read, blending mythopoeic fiction with a sort of young adult coming of age story. I found it hard to immerse myself in the story because I was often distracted by its gorgeous imagery and prose. The book creates a vivid image of its characters (the headstrong Aisha is a feminist hero Le Guin would be proud of) without compromising their realistic story arcs. This book is a LOT. I think I will have to re-read it to understand it better.
It almost felt like an African Patricia McKillip, which is just about the highest praise I can give a book.
February 7, 2024
The House of Rust follows a young protagonist, Aisha, who embarks on a journey to look for her missing father at sea. This begins a magical adventure on land, sea and within herself with the help of a talking cat.
Where do I even begin when attempting to encapsulate the essence of a novel that effortlessly transports me back to the familiar corners of my home? The allure of The House of Rust resonates with me on numerous levels, because it's the first time I've encountered a fantasy realm inhabited by a character whose background closely mirrors my own. Here, I find an innate connection, understanding the seamless interplay of English and Kiswahili.
It's a realm suffused with familiarity. This, I believe, is the crux of it all – reading a narrative that feels like an old friend; it’s idioms, places, and people resonate with a comforting recognition.
As for Aisha, the protagonist, her contours, initially hazy, sharpen and crystallize as the narrative progresses. It's akin to brushing sand off a surface, revealing the core values she holds dear.
But let us not overlook the author's unflinching portrayal of racism, colorism, and prejudice within the East-African Yemeni community. Her narrative is a mirror held up to these societal issues. Additionally, Khadija's craftsmanship lends the novel a lyrical quality that is so delicious.
I particularly love how love is described throughout the novel:
"Love is all teeth, my dear," Hababa states
"But it's a feeble love, a mere facsimile of love"
" 'Love was punitive for some of them.'
'The retribution could never have been for having loved,' Aisha contested"
"'Aisha,' he sighed, 'you simpleton. Love… resembles courage. It can impel you to stand or stay your blade, it can render you foolish, but it doesn't paralyze. If it's only causing you pain, then it isn't love at all – it's merely a guise you've labeled love to romanticize a wound. Love isn't an everlasting prison, isn't a wound, isn't a poison. It's an exchange; it invariably returns. It nurtures and binds.' He playfully flung sand at her.
'Does that make sense?'
TLDR: I love this novel. It is unique, has a strong female protagonist and, the prose & setting is true to the Yemeni-Kenyan-Coastal culture. Get ready to go on a magical, fantastical adventure.
Where do I even begin when attempting to encapsulate the essence of a novel that effortlessly transports me back to the familiar corners of my home? The allure of The House of Rust resonates with me on numerous levels, because it's the first time I've encountered a fantasy realm inhabited by a character whose background closely mirrors my own. Here, I find an innate connection, understanding the seamless interplay of English and Kiswahili.
It's a realm suffused with familiarity. This, I believe, is the crux of it all – reading a narrative that feels like an old friend; it’s idioms, places, and people resonate with a comforting recognition.
As for Aisha, the protagonist, her contours, initially hazy, sharpen and crystallize as the narrative progresses. It's akin to brushing sand off a surface, revealing the core values she holds dear.
But let us not overlook the author's unflinching portrayal of racism, colorism, and prejudice within the East-African Yemeni community. Her narrative is a mirror held up to these societal issues. Additionally, Khadija's craftsmanship lends the novel a lyrical quality that is so delicious.
I particularly love how love is described throughout the novel:
"Love is all teeth, my dear," Hababa states
"But it's a feeble love, a mere facsimile of love"
" 'Love was punitive for some of them.'
'The retribution could never have been for having loved,' Aisha contested"
"'Aisha,' he sighed, 'you simpleton. Love… resembles courage. It can impel you to stand or stay your blade, it can render you foolish, but it doesn't paralyze. If it's only causing you pain, then it isn't love at all – it's merely a guise you've labeled love to romanticize a wound. Love isn't an everlasting prison, isn't a wound, isn't a poison. It's an exchange; it invariably returns. It nurtures and binds.' He playfully flung sand at her.
'Does that make sense?'
TLDR: I love this novel. It is unique, has a strong female protagonist and, the prose & setting is true to the Yemeni-Kenyan-Coastal culture. Get ready to go on a magical, fantastical adventure.
December 3, 2021
Can't remember what drew me to the book but it did sound neat: 'The Life of Pi' crossed with 'The Odyssey' where a young woman whose father goes missing at sea embarks on a journey with various animals. It seemed fun with a talking cat, arguing other animals and a journey. And it's a life-changing journey for just about everyone involved, in ways many do not expect.
It seemed intriguing at first. But the negative reviews are on point. It seemed a little too distant of a read, and the story was not a particularly compelling one. I actually lost interest not long after Aisha's father went missing, which was perhaps not a good sign for the story.
Her father is rescued surprisingly quickly so the novel in the end feels like multiple stories trying to be told at once. It could be because there's folklore that I'm not familiar with and could not relate and that at the end, this was just a story not for me. It felt very much like a book that needed to "sit" longer or needed a better editor.
Maybe I am not the target for this. Maybe those who are familiar with the folklore, really liked 'The Life of Pi', etc. Recommend this as a library borrow but perhaps not bad as a bargain buy, either.
It seemed intriguing at first. But the negative reviews are on point. It seemed a little too distant of a read, and the story was not a particularly compelling one. I actually lost interest not long after Aisha's father went missing, which was perhaps not a good sign for the story.
Her father is rescued surprisingly quickly so the novel in the end feels like multiple stories trying to be told at once. It could be because there's folklore that I'm not familiar with and could not relate and that at the end, this was just a story not for me. It felt very much like a book that needed to "sit" longer or needed a better editor.
Maybe I am not the target for this. Maybe those who are familiar with the folklore, really liked 'The Life of Pi', etc. Recommend this as a library borrow but perhaps not bad as a bargain buy, either.
November 10, 2025
This is a Kenyan fairytale-esque story about a plucky girl who must break with tradition to rescue her father after he's lost at sea. Her journey turns into one full of monsters, adventure, and self-discovery. It's definitely a challenge to stay invested and focused. While beautifully written, some scenes and conversations can be difficult to follow. It's the sort of book that rewards you if you meet it halfway. The slower you go, the better it is, and I recommend it to people who want something more unique and experimental.
July 30, 2023
This was really interesting and I really enjoyed the concepts and magicality and myth, it was really interesting to read a story in such a different part of the world than usual fantasy/magical realism type stories. The writing had a very beautiful quality to it but at time it was really hard to follow what was happening and it felt like pieces were missing of the story. This could have been my own reading and not a reflection of the book but it made it harder to follow and enjoy the story.
March 28, 2022
Poi un giorno capiremo perché nessunx scrive storie con animali parlanti. Prendete questo romanzo: bello, fiabesco, mistico, stile pazzesco. INOLTRE ci sono gli animali parlanti. Potessi darei venti stelline.
May 22, 2022
Absolutely loved this! A 2022 fave for sure.
October 9, 2024
What a GORGEOUS book. Lyrical and utterly unique in conception. It’s both strange and intimate, flitting from terrifying monsters to the battles between a headstrong daughter and her stubborn grandmother. PLEASE WRITE A SEQUEL.
November 2, 2022
The House of Rust won the Greywolf Prize for African Fiction, which is a prize that takes a first novel in manuscript and awards an advance plus publication in the US by Greywolf Press. That was in 2021. Recently, it won the first Ursula K. Le Guin Prize for Fiction, which recognizes 'realists of a different reality'.
The judges of the Le Guin prize caught my eye: adrienne maree brown, Becky Chambers, Molly Gloss, David Mitchell, and Luis Alberto Urrea. With that lineup, I thought I'd better check this book out.
I'm glad I did. I've rarely encountered such language. The metaphors are strikingly good without ever dipping into cliché. The interactions feel real although since they are based on life in Mombasa, Kenya, they are different from what I know.
The story seems a simple one: A motherless young woman growing up with her father and grandmother, seeks to fit into society but is clearly desirous of more than what is expected of her. When her father goes missing at sea, she enlists the help of a talking cat, finds a boat made of bones, and sets out to confront the fantastical sea creatures who can tell her what happened to him.
So far, so standard a trope, although the details are wonderfully fantastical. However, finding her father (no spoiler, really) is only half the story. Literally, that narrative is resolved in the first half of the book. The second half deals with greater forces that emerge due to the woman's insistence on finding the cat again who can help her find 'The House of Rust', where she thinks her destiny may lie.
This is where the narrative turns really wondrous. The animals (and especially the crows) are engaging, the malevolent creature who comes for her is unique, and the resolution is hopeful without revealing her ultimate fate.
And the language. I have to say again that I greatly enjoyed the descriptions of place and things, and the relationships between the woman and her father and grandmother. None of these characters are as one-note as they seem at first, all are changed in somewhat fantastic but believable ways.
One thing that Le Guin did well was ground her fantasy in reality, making the fantastic feel as solid as the real. That book has that quality, and I can understand why the judges chose it. Well done.
The judges of the Le Guin prize caught my eye: adrienne maree brown, Becky Chambers, Molly Gloss, David Mitchell, and Luis Alberto Urrea. With that lineup, I thought I'd better check this book out.
I'm glad I did. I've rarely encountered such language. The metaphors are strikingly good without ever dipping into cliché. The interactions feel real although since they are based on life in Mombasa, Kenya, they are different from what I know.
The story seems a simple one: A motherless young woman growing up with her father and grandmother, seeks to fit into society but is clearly desirous of more than what is expected of her. When her father goes missing at sea, she enlists the help of a talking cat, finds a boat made of bones, and sets out to confront the fantastical sea creatures who can tell her what happened to him.
So far, so standard a trope, although the details are wonderfully fantastical. However, finding her father (no spoiler, really) is only half the story. Literally, that narrative is resolved in the first half of the book. The second half deals with greater forces that emerge due to the woman's insistence on finding the cat again who can help her find 'The House of Rust', where she thinks her destiny may lie.
This is where the narrative turns really wondrous. The animals (and especially the crows) are engaging, the malevolent creature who comes for her is unique, and the resolution is hopeful without revealing her ultimate fate.
And the language. I have to say again that I greatly enjoyed the descriptions of place and things, and the relationships between the woman and her father and grandmother. None of these characters are as one-note as they seem at first, all are changed in somewhat fantastic but believable ways.
One thing that Le Guin did well was ground her fantasy in reality, making the fantastic feel as solid as the real. That book has that quality, and I can understand why the judges chose it. Well done.
October 28, 2024
I think people often find whimsical books confusing because they want to ascribe to every detail a structure and meaning that don't lend themselves well to these stories, especially those like House of Rust that to me are so reminiscent of tales I used to read when I was younger. Maybe that's why this book resonated so much with me but wild speaking sea monsters getting defeated by tricks and stubbornness wake up the little part of my heart that wanted these adventures for myself so dearly when I was a kid. This book is also so touching in its depiction of familial imperfections, of a misdirection of love that can hurt but that same love soothing that hurt, paradoxically. It goes without saying that the beautiful writing elevates this tale higher than the chatter of crows.
November 9, 2025
i think i have been waiting for this book my whole entire life.
the house of rust is such a beautiful, fluid story. it feels like the sea itself, talking to you as in a dream- i'm still not quite sure i didn't actually dream up half the book.
honestly, the writing does take some time to adjust to and the second portion feels stronger than the first, but it was never tedious, though i did need to take it slow. it's a story i'd like to return to again and again in the future, and i think the meaning will pull itself clearer in revisits. i do love how she writes though, the entire thing is so lyrical!
i am personally biased because i love reading about muslims in fantasy where it's a never a question of either/or, it simply is. i love how God and islam and being muslim are not something seperate to draw attention to, rather something natural that simply exists. i like that matter of fact approach, especially in a world of media that just can't seem to write muslims well, or have them exist without almost detaching the person from the religion or vice versa. i like that while there are descriptions of faith and religion, the focus is always on the story and its themes- family and friendship and culture and home. i like the balance in the text.
i also really liked how unapologetic the author is when writing about kenya; its food, its terms of endearment, its people, its clothing- all of it is written through the eyes of someone who's never looked to these things as an unknown, just an everyday (a curtesy also extended to islam in the book). it made me put in a little bit of effort to learn new things to understand better but i don't grudge it at all: it's not the author's job to educate me, only to tell a story. mombasa lives here, it belongs- i am just a visitor, here to learn. i appreciate the lesson.
and, of course, the characters in all their points and flaws and mistakes really make the book shine. i love that aisha never needed to change her mind about marriage, never needed to be proven wrong. this is just who she is and no one can make her a different way. i appreciate that steadfastness, to be reminded that women are powerful and interesting and whole by themselves. ali is a wonderful too :,) hababa, hamza, zubeir, almassi- they all interest me!! bajaber is such a beautiful writer but her absolute strength is in dialogue. each character shines in a different way and their conversations give me goosebumps!! a truth in each mouth!!!!
i don't normally recommend books so entirely but this really moved me. the writing and story itself are wonderful, but what really sticks to me is how much bajaber loves kenya and its people. you could not write so well and fondly if you did not already love so deeply.
the house of rust is such a beautiful, fluid story. it feels like the sea itself, talking to you as in a dream- i'm still not quite sure i didn't actually dream up half the book.
honestly, the writing does take some time to adjust to and the second portion feels stronger than the first, but it was never tedious, though i did need to take it slow. it's a story i'd like to return to again and again in the future, and i think the meaning will pull itself clearer in revisits. i do love how she writes though, the entire thing is so lyrical!
i am personally biased because i love reading about muslims in fantasy where it's a never a question of either/or, it simply is. i love how God and islam and being muslim are not something seperate to draw attention to, rather something natural that simply exists. i like that matter of fact approach, especially in a world of media that just can't seem to write muslims well, or have them exist without almost detaching the person from the religion or vice versa. i like that while there are descriptions of faith and religion, the focus is always on the story and its themes- family and friendship and culture and home. i like the balance in the text.
i also really liked how unapologetic the author is when writing about kenya; its food, its terms of endearment, its people, its clothing- all of it is written through the eyes of someone who's never looked to these things as an unknown, just an everyday (a curtesy also extended to islam in the book). it made me put in a little bit of effort to learn new things to understand better but i don't grudge it at all: it's not the author's job to educate me, only to tell a story. mombasa lives here, it belongs- i am just a visitor, here to learn. i appreciate the lesson.
and, of course, the characters in all their points and flaws and mistakes really make the book shine. i love that aisha never needed to change her mind about marriage, never needed to be proven wrong. this is just who she is and no one can make her a different way. i appreciate that steadfastness, to be reminded that women are powerful and interesting and whole by themselves. ali is a wonderful too :,) hababa, hamza, zubeir, almassi- they all interest me!! bajaber is such a beautiful writer but her absolute strength is in dialogue. each character shines in a different way and their conversations give me goosebumps!! a truth in each mouth!!!!
i don't normally recommend books so entirely but this really moved me. the writing and story itself are wonderful, but what really sticks to me is how much bajaber loves kenya and its people. you could not write so well and fondly if you did not already love so deeply.
February 10, 2022
I know I say this every time, but… I’m a sucker for folklore!!! This is African folklore and this book does not disappoint in getting you cozy deep inside African culture.
“At the end of all worlds, will you show how neat your miserly kept book of sums? Or will you have the courage and say, I did deeds good and bad, I disagreed with the world around me, I was awake and I believed and I doubted, but I was not immobilized. I was alive, to the best of my abilities, I was alive.”
This book was incredibly beautiful. You need to take your time with it though. It is one of those poetic beauties that can get confusing if you skim quickly though. There are many names, many times I felt I didn’t get what happened to only understand towards the end. I will say, by the end, I understood every part completely and loved it entirely.
It’s about a father who is lost, a daughter who goes on a sea voyage with a talking cat to save him and comes across many wonders. She is given a choice when she finds her father who is barely holding into life. Leave him for someone else to find, or go with the cat to a land where all her answers are answered, where she can be free to do things with no restrictions of woman expectations, to the house of rust. But she won’t be offered this chance again if she doesn’t go now.
A story of a woman who has to be hard and tough even though she is scared. One who has to pretend she knows what to do even though she is lost. She makes mistakes, she loves, she disappoints. It felt organic and it was gorgeous.
“One day, you can look back and know that your strength came not out of spite, but because there were people who loved you, who wanted you to be strong. Who were proud to see you on your way. Wherever you go, whatever beasts you face, I don’t want you looking back and think I wasn’t proud of you, or that I thought of you with regret. Think of me and let it add to the strength in your heart.”
At the end of the day, this is folklore, it’s written in the way folklore is written. If your not a fan of folklore, you won’t be a fan of this. But if you are…. Read it!!
“At the end of all worlds, will you show how neat your miserly kept book of sums? Or will you have the courage and say, I did deeds good and bad, I disagreed with the world around me, I was awake and I believed and I doubted, but I was not immobilized. I was alive, to the best of my abilities, I was alive.”
This book was incredibly beautiful. You need to take your time with it though. It is one of those poetic beauties that can get confusing if you skim quickly though. There are many names, many times I felt I didn’t get what happened to only understand towards the end. I will say, by the end, I understood every part completely and loved it entirely.
It’s about a father who is lost, a daughter who goes on a sea voyage with a talking cat to save him and comes across many wonders. She is given a choice when she finds her father who is barely holding into life. Leave him for someone else to find, or go with the cat to a land where all her answers are answered, where she can be free to do things with no restrictions of woman expectations, to the house of rust. But she won’t be offered this chance again if she doesn’t go now.
A story of a woman who has to be hard and tough even though she is scared. One who has to pretend she knows what to do even though she is lost. She makes mistakes, she loves, she disappoints. It felt organic and it was gorgeous.
“One day, you can look back and know that your strength came not out of spite, but because there were people who loved you, who wanted you to be strong. Who were proud to see you on your way. Wherever you go, whatever beasts you face, I don’t want you looking back and think I wasn’t proud of you, or that I thought of you with regret. Think of me and let it add to the strength in your heart.”
At the end of the day, this is folklore, it’s written in the way folklore is written. If your not a fan of folklore, you won’t be a fan of this. But if you are…. Read it!!
April 11, 2023
I wanted to love this book, there’s a talking cat! Unfortunately, I was more confused than anything. The prose was dense and written in a convoluted structure. I had to reread so many passages. I also felt the thread of the story was barely held together. There’s like 4 different stories that could be separated out into its own narrative, not all jammed together.
July 6, 2022
I’ve been reading more diversely of late, and it’s not always smooth-sailing. House of Rust won the Graywolf Press African Fiction prize; it’s a story with a particular sense of place (Mombasa, Kenya), infused with African folklore and legend. I connected most with Aisha’s profound and complex love for the sea. After the story settles, the characters become rather dynamic; they change drastically from beginning to end. Though a serious and, at times, horrifying text, humor is not missing from this tale. I laughed more than once as Aisha labored to convince mundane animals to speak to her. However, I struggled with pacing and with comprehension.
It wasn’t always clear to me what was happening. I don’t know if this is due to cultural differences; is the flow of storytelling innately *different* and I’m just not used to it? Does it have something to do with the way that time is perceived, and the role that magic & myth play — how they tie-in with daily life more closely (with less of a traditional, clear distinction)? Or, does my occasional lack of understanding have more to do with this particular story and this particular author’s writing style? I don’t have the answers (which is actually sort of fitting, given the novel and Aisha’s path).
I’m glad I read this. It gave me a chance to grow as a reader, to watch myself reading. There were passages I loved (hearts, dreams, fish). Still, I would not say that I totally enjoyed my reading experience.
It wasn’t always clear to me what was happening. I don’t know if this is due to cultural differences; is the flow of storytelling innately *different* and I’m just not used to it? Does it have something to do with the way that time is perceived, and the role that magic & myth play — how they tie-in with daily life more closely (with less of a traditional, clear distinction)? Or, does my occasional lack of understanding have more to do with this particular story and this particular author’s writing style? I don’t have the answers (which is actually sort of fitting, given the novel and Aisha’s path).
I’m glad I read this. It gave me a chance to grow as a reader, to watch myself reading. There were passages I loved (hearts, dreams, fish). Still, I would not say that I totally enjoyed my reading experience.
December 21, 2024
This book was such a surprise treat. Lyrical, weird and surprisingly funny. It got a bit rushed at the end, but I'm really looking forward to the next book by Bajaber.
She heard a long, echoing croon at the long whine. It was a sound she had never heard before and she was struck by its strange, nameless beauty. The spectres scattered and the flowing shape beneath the boat plunged, escaping into the deep.
Wondrous, frightened. "Is that... whale song?"
The cat flicked his tail thoughtfully along her neck. "Is it familiar to you?"
Not at all and yet... something in her wanted to answer it. The ghosts were gone, frightened away, and the deep echo came again, like the ache in her heart.
"I always wondered how it might sound..."
"How does it sound?"
"Lonely. A person in an empty hall, singing to a thousand locked doors. By themselves, to themselves."
November 3, 2022
3.5 stars rounded up for the beautiful, lyrical prose and the fascinating magical realism setting of Mombasa in this coming of age story of a young girl who doesn't want to grow up only to marry.
What made me struggle at times is a sometimes disconnected plot with several threads that weren't picked up again.
What made me struggle at times is a sometimes disconnected plot with several threads that weren't picked up again.
August 16, 2022
No Thank You!
September 7, 2024
Wow. Yeah. I knew this would be extremely up my alley. When Aisha's fisherman dad disappears, she ventures out to sea to find him, meeting various sea monsters along the way, accompanied only by a talking cat. But this is only half the story. Her adventure only confirms what she always knew - that she wants adventure, not marriage, which puts her at odds with her grandmother. There are more encounters with talking animals (crows, goats...every fantasy book is better with goats) along the way, of course, and a mysterious man with a hat. I suppose it's the sort of book that'd be called fabulist - literary, set on modern day Earth, but with daily life being full of magic.
I also really liked Aisha. She's a delight to follow, very self-assured, knowing exactly what she wants and what she doesn't. The only question is how. Her relationship with her father and how supportive they are of each other is great too. And I absolutely loved that there was no sudden romance, no bullshit "maybe settling down is not so bad" subplot. She doesn't want to marry and that's that. The only romance subplot is between side characters and very brief (though lovely).
Recommended!
Enjoyment: 4/5
Execution: 4.5/5
More reviews on my blog, To Other Worlds.
I also really liked Aisha. She's a delight to follow, very self-assured, knowing exactly what she wants and what she doesn't. The only question is how. Her relationship with her father and how supportive they are of each other is great too. And I absolutely loved that there was no sudden romance, no bullshit "maybe settling down is not so bad" subplot. She doesn't want to marry and that's that. The only romance subplot is between side characters and very brief (though lovely).
Recommended!
Enjoyment: 4/5
Execution: 4.5/5
More reviews on my blog, To Other Worlds.
November 6, 2025
3 stars “it was good”
This book was really fantastic (in the sense of “fantastical”) but, for me, was very overwrought nearly the whole way through. Still, I enjoyed being a guest in Bajaber’s Mombasa. And here and there there were Arundhati Roy-esque gems of prose, like this one: “Between his duties leading the young shark hunters and keeping them busy, Zubeir used his free time to remember God. God and death. And love. The inseparable things.”
Also, from a talking cat: “Being is to be alive, awake—to believe, not to roll under the world as it is. Are you alive if you do not question the world? If you do not go to war with yourself in deciding how to acquaint yourself with it or challenge it? At the end of all worlds, will you show how near your miserly kept book of sums? Or will you have had the courage and say I did deeds good and bad, I disagreed with the world around me, I was awake and I believe and I doubted, but I was not immobilized. I was alive, to the best of my abilities I was alive.”
This book was really fantastic (in the sense of “fantastical”) but, for me, was very overwrought nearly the whole way through. Still, I enjoyed being a guest in Bajaber’s Mombasa. And here and there there were Arundhati Roy-esque gems of prose, like this one: “Between his duties leading the young shark hunters and keeping them busy, Zubeir used his free time to remember God. God and death. And love. The inseparable things.”
Also, from a talking cat: “Being is to be alive, awake—to believe, not to roll under the world as it is. Are you alive if you do not question the world? If you do not go to war with yourself in deciding how to acquaint yourself with it or challenge it? At the end of all worlds, will you show how near your miserly kept book of sums? Or will you have had the courage and say I did deeds good and bad, I disagreed with the world around me, I was awake and I believe and I doubted, but I was not immobilized. I was alive, to the best of my abilities I was alive.”
July 16, 2025
Caution: Spoiler alert.
What does it really mean to live a meaningful life? This question kept resurfacing as I read this book. It was hard to get into at first, mostly because the language is so lush, but slowly I got used to its poetic rhythm, and it turned out to be mesmerizing. “The house of rust” is a tale set in the coastal city of Mombasa, blending magical realism with rich folklore. For me, it’s a book where myth and reality perfectly intertwined.
The story follows a headstrong young daughter, Aisha, who defies tradition to search for her missing fisherman father—with only a talking cat and a magical boat made of bones to guide her. Along the way, she is forced to offer everything to sea monsters, jinns and spirits. These encounters echo the trials of real life and gradually shape her into someone stronger and more determined. The author transforms Aisha’s journey into a powerful quest for identity, inheritance and a deeper understanding of what it means to belong.
There are many life lessons woven through the story – lessons that feel relevant to all of us. Here are a few of my favorite insights from the book.
• To be kind, you don’t have to conform to other’s expectations.
• Don’t let others to decide for you. We must trust our own choices and act on them. Caution and weak-heartedness keep us from greatness.
• Fear can be a virtue. As the book says: “A lack of fear was arrogance of the highest order.”
• The author beautifully explores the emotion of “love”. As she says: “Love … is like courage.” “Love is not an eternal prison, is not a wound, is not a poison. It is and exchange, it is always returning. It nurtures and binds.” “One day, you can look back and know that your strength came not out of spite, but because there were people who loved you, who wanted you to be strong. Who were proud to see you on your way.”
What does it really mean to live a meaningful life? This question kept resurfacing as I read this book. It was hard to get into at first, mostly because the language is so lush, but slowly I got used to its poetic rhythm, and it turned out to be mesmerizing. “The house of rust” is a tale set in the coastal city of Mombasa, blending magical realism with rich folklore. For me, it’s a book where myth and reality perfectly intertwined.
The story follows a headstrong young daughter, Aisha, who defies tradition to search for her missing fisherman father—with only a talking cat and a magical boat made of bones to guide her. Along the way, she is forced to offer everything to sea monsters, jinns and spirits. These encounters echo the trials of real life and gradually shape her into someone stronger and more determined. The author transforms Aisha’s journey into a powerful quest for identity, inheritance and a deeper understanding of what it means to belong.
There are many life lessons woven through the story – lessons that feel relevant to all of us. Here are a few of my favorite insights from the book.
• To be kind, you don’t have to conform to other’s expectations.
• Don’t let others to decide for you. We must trust our own choices and act on them. Caution and weak-heartedness keep us from greatness.
• Fear can be a virtue. As the book says: “A lack of fear was arrogance of the highest order.”
• The author beautifully explores the emotion of “love”. As she says: “Love … is like courage.” “Love is not an eternal prison, is not a wound, is not a poison. It is and exchange, it is always returning. It nurtures and binds.” “One day, you can look back and know that your strength came not out of spite, but because there were people who loved you, who wanted you to be strong. Who were proud to see you on your way.”
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