"How can it be that a set of the shoulders, the rhythm of a stride, the shadow of a strand of hair falling on a forehead can cause the tides of the heart to ebb and to flow?"
Ah, the throes of love. When her husband dies, a woman leaves England for Egypt, lured by paintings which helped her grieve. She enters Egypt as the resistance fights against British occupation. She falls in love with an Egyptian politician during a time when a woman was ostracized by her European community for being with an Egyptian, albeit a wealthy, titled, one.
One hundred years later, Anna's great-granddaughter, Isabel, an American, finds her great-grandmother's journals and enters her world of love. She cannot, however, translate the journals written in Arabic, so she enlists the help of, Amal. Amal is an Arab woman, separated from her husband and children, who returns to Egypt after years living abroad. Amal doesn't know she is connected to Isabel until she starts to read the journals of Anna Winterbourne.
If this all seems intricate, it is because the narrative itself is weaved intricately; maybe a bit too ambitious at times. It illustrates political occasions over a century and ends in 1998, a year after the massacre near Luxor. This novel was a Booker Prize finalist and one can tell by the sprawl of different perspectives, the play with time, the political history interwoven, and the cultural maneuver embodied in interchanging writing styles throughout chapters. In other words, be very attentive when reading, or else risk being lost.
I'll always fall for a love story immersed in politics and social disparities, a story of love that spans cultures. And I fell for this one, through the journals of Anna, through Isabel's love affair, even through Amal's daring brush with a past love. I fell for the poetry included before each chapter, poetry from Aidoo, Milton, Spenser, Shakespeare, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
The face of all the world is changed, I think
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul.