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Radiant Fugitives
A tour-de-force debut following three generations of a Muslim-Indian family confronted with a nation on the brink of change in Obama-era San Francisco and Texas with a blockbuster ending you have to read to believe.
Working as a political activist in the early days of the Obama presidency, Seema still struggles with her father’s long-ago decision to exile her from the family after she came out as lesbian, forcing her to construct a new life in the West. Now, nine months pregnant and estranged from the father of her unborn son, Seema seeks reconciliation with the family that once renounced her: her ailing mother, Nafeesa, traveling alone to California from Chennai, and her devoutly religious sister, Tahera, an OB-GYN living in Texas with her husband and children.
Pushed apart and drawn together in equal measure by their often conflicting beliefs, Seema, Tahera, and Nafeesa must confront the complex yearnings in their relationships with one another—and within their innermost selves—as the events that transpire over the course of one fateful week unearth an accumulated lifetime of love, betrayal, and misunderstandings.
Told from the point of view of Seema’s child at the moment of his birth and infused with the poetry of Wordsworth, Keats, and the Quran, Radiant Fugitives is an operatic debut from a bold new voice, exploring the tensions between ideology and practicality, hope and tradition, forgiveness and retribution for one family navigating a shifting political landscape.
Working as a political activist in the early days of the Obama presidency, Seema still struggles with her father’s long-ago decision to exile her from the family after she came out as lesbian, forcing her to construct a new life in the West. Now, nine months pregnant and estranged from the father of her unborn son, Seema seeks reconciliation with the family that once renounced her: her ailing mother, Nafeesa, traveling alone to California from Chennai, and her devoutly religious sister, Tahera, an OB-GYN living in Texas with her husband and children.
Pushed apart and drawn together in equal measure by their often conflicting beliefs, Seema, Tahera, and Nafeesa must confront the complex yearnings in their relationships with one another—and within their innermost selves—as the events that transpire over the course of one fateful week unearth an accumulated lifetime of love, betrayal, and misunderstandings.
Told from the point of view of Seema’s child at the moment of his birth and infused with the poetry of Wordsworth, Keats, and the Quran, Radiant Fugitives is an operatic debut from a bold new voice, exploring the tensions between ideology and practicality, hope and tradition, forgiveness and retribution for one family navigating a shifting political landscape.
384 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 3, 2021
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 291 reviews
September 11, 2022
I really wanted to love Nawaaz Ahmed’s “Radiant Fugitives”. Unfortunately for me the narrator structure didn’t work. Ahmed uses third person narration; the narrator being an unborn baby. Usually, he is telling his tale to his grandmother; sometimes he refers to his mother as “my mother” and other times he refers to her as Seema (her given name). Furthermore, the story jumps time frames making following the thread a bit more difficult.
Seema’s baby, the narrator, is named Ishraaq which means sunrise and radiance. He tells us in the first page that he’s pulled from his mother’s lifeless body. We understand that Seema does not survive. He introduces us to his father, Bill, and his grandmother Nafeesa, along with Seema’s sister Tahera. All have been estranged. Seema’s pregnancy and upcoming birth has brought them all together.
The estrangement came because of differences in religious dogma. They are a Muslim Indian family and only Seema’s sister, Tahera, is devout. Seema is gay, and the teachings restrict same-sex unions.
Seema becomes political in the United States. She campaigns for Barack Obama who ran on a same-sex marriage platform. This is how Seema met Bill, on the campaign trail. They also backed District Attorney Kamala Harris and presidential candidate Howard Dean.
Much of the story is Seema’s life as a political volunteer. Some parts are the back story to how Seema got to where she is. What the story highlights is the difficulty gay people have in staunch religion. Ahmed also delves into Nafeesa’s maternal quandary of supporting both daughters, one devoutly religious and one who has renounced her religion. He also provides the inner thoughts of Tahera which explains how she can repudiate her sister. Tahera has her own personal issues in that the school her children go to in Texas has been defaced by an anti-Muslim mob.
Most stories I’ve read about India involve the Hindu faith. I wanted to gain some perspective on the Muslim side. Ahmed did that for me. Again, I liked it as I did gain knowledge. However, the third-party narration didn’t work for me. Also, I thought it was a bit too long. I did NOT want to get back to my book, and I was so happy when I finished it.
Seema’s baby, the narrator, is named Ishraaq which means sunrise and radiance. He tells us in the first page that he’s pulled from his mother’s lifeless body. We understand that Seema does not survive. He introduces us to his father, Bill, and his grandmother Nafeesa, along with Seema’s sister Tahera. All have been estranged. Seema’s pregnancy and upcoming birth has brought them all together.
The estrangement came because of differences in religious dogma. They are a Muslim Indian family and only Seema’s sister, Tahera, is devout. Seema is gay, and the teachings restrict same-sex unions.
Seema becomes political in the United States. She campaigns for Barack Obama who ran on a same-sex marriage platform. This is how Seema met Bill, on the campaign trail. They also backed District Attorney Kamala Harris and presidential candidate Howard Dean.
Much of the story is Seema’s life as a political volunteer. Some parts are the back story to how Seema got to where she is. What the story highlights is the difficulty gay people have in staunch religion. Ahmed also delves into Nafeesa’s maternal quandary of supporting both daughters, one devoutly religious and one who has renounced her religion. He also provides the inner thoughts of Tahera which explains how she can repudiate her sister. Tahera has her own personal issues in that the school her children go to in Texas has been defaced by an anti-Muslim mob.
Most stories I’ve read about India involve the Hindu faith. I wanted to gain some perspective on the Muslim side. Ahmed did that for me. Again, I liked it as I did gain knowledge. However, the third-party narration didn’t work for me. Also, I thought it was a bit too long. I did NOT want to get back to my book, and I was so happy when I finished it.
August 4, 2021
4.5 stars. This beautifully written book had me tearing up by the end of it.
This unique story is told to Seema’s grandmother by her unborn child. Seema lives in San Francisco, is nine months pregnant, and is trying to reconcile with her estranged mother and sister after having been driven away for years when she came out as lesbian to her family.
Seema’s mother, is dying and desperately wants to re-establish family bonds even though she is still coming to terms with her daughter’s sexuality. Tahera is a devoutly religious Muslim who lives with her family in Texas. Nafeesa and Tahera join Seema in San Francisco for a fateful week that will change their lives. During this time, the trio must confront their differing beliefs, prejudices, and jealousies.
The sections about Seema’s time as a political activist during Obama’s early presidency really brought her character to life and captured my interest.
This is a story that just sweeps you along and will probably have you bawling by the end of it. It is masterfully written with wholly realistic and imperfect characters. It takes some time to get into, but once it gets going it is hard to put down. I found myself thinking about the characters when I wasn’t reading it.
Thank you to Netgalley and Counterpoint Press for the digital ARC.
This unique story is told to Seema’s grandmother by her unborn child. Seema lives in San Francisco, is nine months pregnant, and is trying to reconcile with her estranged mother and sister after having been driven away for years when she came out as lesbian to her family.
Seema’s mother, is dying and desperately wants to re-establish family bonds even though she is still coming to terms with her daughter’s sexuality. Tahera is a devoutly religious Muslim who lives with her family in Texas. Nafeesa and Tahera join Seema in San Francisco for a fateful week that will change their lives. During this time, the trio must confront their differing beliefs, prejudices, and jealousies.
The sections about Seema’s time as a political activist during Obama’s early presidency really brought her character to life and captured my interest.
This is a story that just sweeps you along and will probably have you bawling by the end of it. It is masterfully written with wholly realistic and imperfect characters. It takes some time to get into, but once it gets going it is hard to put down. I found myself thinking about the characters when I wasn’t reading it.
Thank you to Netgalley and Counterpoint Press for the digital ARC.
November 25, 2021
Real Rating: 3.75* of five, rounded up because there's more the author will say & I'm here for it
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
LISTEN TO THIS PODCAST: “Living in America Is Like Living in an In-Law’s House.” with Author Ahmed on Mitzi Rapkin's First Draft Podcast
OCTOBER 2021 UPDATE Read this brief profile of Author Ahmed at PW!
My Review: Debut novelist Ahmed has done something special with this book. He has chosen to tell a story of rigidity and rage, of tenderness and forgiveness, and of sadness and loss from the point of view of a perinatal infant whose mother has died in trying to give him life.
That is a bold decision. And it's not a spoiler because there's no way you could possibly miss it...the author says it plain and straight on the first page. I spent the first few pages a little unsure of the wisdom of it, because it will inevitably lead to the Satanic Second Person sooner or later. (Sooner as it turns out.) But the choice, like all bold gambles, carries a certain momentum that either weighs the reader down or drags him along in its wake. I was dragged. I wasn't sure I would be. When the infant addresses his grandmother as "Grandmother," I confess I winced and even pooh-poohed the idea. I was too taken in by the way Seema, the "hasbian" (in the ugly, dismissive formulation I've heard lesbians use towards one who marries a man...why not "bisexual" I've always wondered) mother of this child, was continually struggling to find her footing in the narrative...bad choice for a narrator; Nafeesa, the terminally ill grandmother, was too cowed and rendered voiceless by her entire life's denied course; Tahera, the rigidly religious sister, was too ragey and resentful. No one else matters, their quiet places in the story don't ripple strongly enough to compete with the women and their unborn male relative. I definitely include the father in this. Poor bastard.
Back to our narrator, Ishraaq (meaning "Dawn"). He is the right choice to tell us this story because, like all infants, it's the story he inherits by his simple act of drawing breath. So my cavils were set aside, and the story progressed...familiar things happened. For example, I recognized the divide between the sisters as superficially being about their differing faith-walks but really being about the disfiguring jealousy of sisters denied the place they thought was theirs. Sibling rivalry was always going to rip their relationship to shreds. Their mother wasn't capable of standing up for herself, still less her daughters, against their forceful father and his ungovernable passions for poetry and control. Keats isn't used as a love language in their family so much as an armory of unresolvable resentments...it's their father's favorite work, and their mother was bludgeoned with it despite her love of her native Urdu and its vast, beautiful literature.
As an adult, Ishraaq's mother is an out lesbian. That goes over badly with her devout Muslim father. Mother, of course, submits her actions to her husband's control. They cut their heretical daughter out of their lives. And she, for her part, builds quite a world for herself in activist politics, while her dutiful and Muslim younger sister becomes a family physician...so no slouch in the brains department. Such a lot of anger for Big Sis from childhood...it quite naturally fuels her religious rejection of Seema for her lifestyle. In his role as narrator, Ishraaq doesn't dwell on the particulars of his mother's sex life, which I think was a good authorial call. It doesn't feel to me as though anything in the story requires us to follow the characters into their bedrooms. I noted the fact that we mostly hadn't, and then thought, well, what a great way to make use of such a narrator!
What I didn't find so believable was the way Ishraaq was sometimes omniscient, discussing things that would be impossible for him to know because the belly he was inhabiting was elsewhere. A conversation between his father and grandmother marked the first time I was jolted into awareness of the issue. It's here that the reader will stall out..."this is impossible, forget it"...or will reach the accommodation that I did: "we're assuming a consciousness is Ishraaq, not the infant flesh is Ishraaq, and the story ends when he's mere moments old." I'll get past my collywobbles re: magical narrators if there's at least a shred of a line to cling to as I suspend my disbelief. It was a close-run thing, though.
Events happen that ground us in the US of 2010. Obamacare, Kamala Harris as a candidate for Attorney General, mosque vandalism...all struck resonant chords in me. I was also taken by setting the narrative in San Francisco for the most part. I loved the atmospheric descriptions of San Francisco's fog belt, and the evocation of Dolores Park. The use of color in the book is quite elegant...a deep, unrepentant purple sky!...as is the food the characters prepare, offer, consume. There's a much-needed specificity to these moments. A great deal of the book feels less moored, grounded, because it's a flashback. The past that Ishraaq narrates, or observes I suppose, and then describes, is of necessity less vibrant than a directly shown and not told timeline would be. In many ways this choice was made when Author Ahmed chose his narrator. There really is no other practical way to tell a story from that point of view.
There are secondary characters with arcs that will shock you. There are characters whose "it's all my fault"s rang in my ears as solipsistic and self-important. There are moments of sheer blithering idiocy when decisions that should've been postponed are instead made and made badly. And that's one of the best things about the book to me. I enjoy a story with real-feeling stakes...death is a real stake, and there's more death in the book than is at first evident. The "radiant fugitives" of the title, what elicits that particular descriptive phrase, make for one of the book's set it down and say "wooow" moments.
But even the death serves its purpose. People are never more themselves than when they are around death. The selves they are, all too often, are not the selves they want to be. And it's this immense tension that gives Radiant Fugitives its narrative drive, its memorable ending, its full measure of sadness and rage, love and compassion. It's a book that forgives its characters for being less than their best selves and giving less than their all when they're called to step up. The ending will strike some as overdone, it did me, but it was most certainly an organic, honest ending to the story we started out reading. That makes the journey a good and worthwile one, and as a debut novel, one of above-average skill to create.
But, and I mean this, someone at Counterpoint needs to fix "Irvine, Texas" to read "Irving" because Irvine's in California. Irving's in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
LISTEN TO THIS PODCAST: “Living in America Is Like Living in an In-Law’s House.” with Author Ahmed on Mitzi Rapkin's First Draft Podcast
OCTOBER 2021 UPDATE Read this brief profile of Author Ahmed at PW!
My Review: Debut novelist Ahmed has done something special with this book. He has chosen to tell a story of rigidity and rage, of tenderness and forgiveness, and of sadness and loss from the point of view of a perinatal infant whose mother has died in trying to give him life.
That is a bold decision. And it's not a spoiler because there's no way you could possibly miss it...the author says it plain and straight on the first page. I spent the first few pages a little unsure of the wisdom of it, because it will inevitably lead to the Satanic Second Person sooner or later. (Sooner as it turns out.) But the choice, like all bold gambles, carries a certain momentum that either weighs the reader down or drags him along in its wake. I was dragged. I wasn't sure I would be. When the infant addresses his grandmother as "Grandmother," I confess I winced and even pooh-poohed the idea. I was too taken in by the way Seema, the "hasbian" (in the ugly, dismissive formulation I've heard lesbians use towards one who marries a man...why not "bisexual" I've always wondered) mother of this child, was continually struggling to find her footing in the narrative...bad choice for a narrator; Nafeesa, the terminally ill grandmother, was too cowed and rendered voiceless by her entire life's denied course; Tahera, the rigidly religious sister, was too ragey and resentful. No one else matters, their quiet places in the story don't ripple strongly enough to compete with the women and their unborn male relative. I definitely include the father in this. Poor bastard.
Back to our narrator, Ishraaq (meaning "Dawn"). He is the right choice to tell us this story because, like all infants, it's the story he inherits by his simple act of drawing breath. So my cavils were set aside, and the story progressed...familiar things happened. For example, I recognized the divide between the sisters as superficially being about their differing faith-walks but really being about the disfiguring jealousy of sisters denied the place they thought was theirs. Sibling rivalry was always going to rip their relationship to shreds. Their mother wasn't capable of standing up for herself, still less her daughters, against their forceful father and his ungovernable passions for poetry and control. Keats isn't used as a love language in their family so much as an armory of unresolvable resentments...it's their father's favorite work, and their mother was bludgeoned with it despite her love of her native Urdu and its vast, beautiful literature.
As an adult, Ishraaq's mother is an out lesbian. That goes over badly with her devout Muslim father. Mother, of course, submits her actions to her husband's control. They cut their heretical daughter out of their lives. And she, for her part, builds quite a world for herself in activist politics, while her dutiful and Muslim younger sister becomes a family physician...so no slouch in the brains department. Such a lot of anger for Big Sis from childhood...it quite naturally fuels her religious rejection of Seema for her lifestyle. In his role as narrator, Ishraaq doesn't dwell on the particulars of his mother's sex life, which I think was a good authorial call. It doesn't feel to me as though anything in the story requires us to follow the characters into their bedrooms. I noted the fact that we mostly hadn't, and then thought, well, what a great way to make use of such a narrator!
What I didn't find so believable was the way Ishraaq was sometimes omniscient, discussing things that would be impossible for him to know because the belly he was inhabiting was elsewhere. A conversation between his father and grandmother marked the first time I was jolted into awareness of the issue. It's here that the reader will stall out..."this is impossible, forget it"...or will reach the accommodation that I did: "we're assuming a consciousness is Ishraaq, not the infant flesh is Ishraaq, and the story ends when he's mere moments old." I'll get past my collywobbles re: magical narrators if there's at least a shred of a line to cling to as I suspend my disbelief. It was a close-run thing, though.
Events happen that ground us in the US of 2010. Obamacare, Kamala Harris as a candidate for Attorney General, mosque vandalism...all struck resonant chords in me. I was also taken by setting the narrative in San Francisco for the most part. I loved the atmospheric descriptions of San Francisco's fog belt, and the evocation of Dolores Park. The use of color in the book is quite elegant...a deep, unrepentant purple sky!...as is the food the characters prepare, offer, consume. There's a much-needed specificity to these moments. A great deal of the book feels less moored, grounded, because it's a flashback. The past that Ishraaq narrates, or observes I suppose, and then describes, is of necessity less vibrant than a directly shown and not told timeline would be. In many ways this choice was made when Author Ahmed chose his narrator. There really is no other practical way to tell a story from that point of view.
There are secondary characters with arcs that will shock you. There are characters whose "it's all my fault"s rang in my ears as solipsistic and self-important. There are moments of sheer blithering idiocy when decisions that should've been postponed are instead made and made badly. And that's one of the best things about the book to me. I enjoy a story with real-feeling stakes...death is a real stake, and there's more death in the book than is at first evident. The "radiant fugitives" of the title, what elicits that particular descriptive phrase, make for one of the book's set it down and say "wooow" moments.
But even the death serves its purpose. People are never more themselves than when they are around death. The selves they are, all too often, are not the selves they want to be. And it's this immense tension that gives Radiant Fugitives its narrative drive, its memorable ending, its full measure of sadness and rage, love and compassion. It's a book that forgives its characters for being less than their best selves and giving less than their all when they're called to step up. The ending will strike some as overdone, it did me, but it was most certainly an organic, honest ending to the story we started out reading. That makes the journey a good and worthwile one, and as a debut novel, one of above-average skill to create.
But, and I mean this, someone at Counterpoint needs to fix "Irvine, Texas" to read "Irving" because Irvine's in California. Irving's in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex.
August 4, 2021
I was tempted to open this review by saying that Nawaaz Ahmed's Radiant Fugitives is *THE* great American novel that we need at the moment, but that might be edging toward hyperbole (it also might not be). I can, however, say with certainty that Radiant Fugitives is *A* great American novel that we need at this moment. Radiant Fugitives is full of tensions, just as the U.S. is at the moment—the tensions of culture wars, of gender identity, of immigration, of faith, of family structures.
There are all kinds of gut-wrenching novels out there about divided families. But I'm going to be honest—and judgemental—here. Most of those are novels about middle-class white families, and middle-class white families have gotten all the playtime they need. It's time to look at other kinds of families both to broaden the lives and cultures that are represented and that we're exposed to, and also to remind us that differences *ARE* differences, but they can *ALSO* be commonalities.
Three women provide the heart of this novel, all originally from an observant, but not overly so, Muslim family in Chennai, India—
• Seema, living in San Francisco and cut off from her family at the insistence of her father after she came out to him, a once-married lesbian about to give birth to a we-got-carried-away-signing-the-divorce-papers baby, who works in PR and is campaigning for Kamala Harris during her run for the position of California Attorney General.
• Tahera, Seema's younger sister, a devout Muslim and an OB-GYN, living in Texas, who has built her life around her work as a physician, her family, and the local mosque—deeply uncomfortable with Seema's life choices, but visiting her in San Francisco because she wants time with...
• Nafeesa, mother of Seema and Tahera, cowed by her pompous and controlling husband, who has defied his wishes and traveled from Chennai to San Francisco to be with Seema when the baby comes and who is dying of cancer. Nafeesa cannot understand the choices of either daughter, both of whom she perceives as deliberately building lives that will be difficult and invite others' hostility.
Our narrator is Ishraaq the child—still in utero—that Seema will die giving birth to. And that's not a spoiler. Ishraaq tells us at the novel's beginning that his mother has died and he will never have a chance to know her. Ishraaq relates this story in second person, addressing his grandmother Nafeesa, trying to explain Seema and Tahera's volatile interactions.
At this point, I'm hoping you can see what fertile ground Ahmed has built this novel on because there's either nothing more to say or there are thousands of things more to say, and I'm going to go with the former. No matter who you are, I'm pretty sure you'll find yourself feeling both like an insider and an outsider in this novel and that you will be deeply uncomfortable at times. Maybe that's not the usual kind of "sell" to give a five-star novel, but it is the best sell I can offer for Radiant Fugitives. We need novels to push and teach and surprise us. I can promise Radiant Fugitives will do all those things.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own.
There are all kinds of gut-wrenching novels out there about divided families. But I'm going to be honest—and judgemental—here. Most of those are novels about middle-class white families, and middle-class white families have gotten all the playtime they need. It's time to look at other kinds of families both to broaden the lives and cultures that are represented and that we're exposed to, and also to remind us that differences *ARE* differences, but they can *ALSO* be commonalities.
Three women provide the heart of this novel, all originally from an observant, but not overly so, Muslim family in Chennai, India—
• Seema, living in San Francisco and cut off from her family at the insistence of her father after she came out to him, a once-married lesbian about to give birth to a we-got-carried-away-signing-the-divorce-papers baby, who works in PR and is campaigning for Kamala Harris during her run for the position of California Attorney General.
• Tahera, Seema's younger sister, a devout Muslim and an OB-GYN, living in Texas, who has built her life around her work as a physician, her family, and the local mosque—deeply uncomfortable with Seema's life choices, but visiting her in San Francisco because she wants time with...
• Nafeesa, mother of Seema and Tahera, cowed by her pompous and controlling husband, who has defied his wishes and traveled from Chennai to San Francisco to be with Seema when the baby comes and who is dying of cancer. Nafeesa cannot understand the choices of either daughter, both of whom she perceives as deliberately building lives that will be difficult and invite others' hostility.
Our narrator is Ishraaq the child—still in utero—that Seema will die giving birth to. And that's not a spoiler. Ishraaq tells us at the novel's beginning that his mother has died and he will never have a chance to know her. Ishraaq relates this story in second person, addressing his grandmother Nafeesa, trying to explain Seema and Tahera's volatile interactions.
At this point, I'm hoping you can see what fertile ground Ahmed has built this novel on because there's either nothing more to say or there are thousands of things more to say, and I'm going to go with the former. No matter who you are, I'm pretty sure you'll find yourself feeling both like an insider and an outsider in this novel and that you will be deeply uncomfortable at times. Maybe that's not the usual kind of "sell" to give a five-star novel, but it is the best sell I can offer for Radiant Fugitives. We need novels to push and teach and surprise us. I can promise Radiant Fugitives will do all those things.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own.
January 8, 2022
A radiant and sorrowful novel that examines the relationships and rifts between Seema and Tahera Hussein and their mother Nafeesa. I loved the setting in San Francisco - Ahmed writes like a painter with stunning brushstrokes. Set in early 2000s, the novel captures both the political promise and strife of that time. I was less enthralled by the narrator, Seema's unborn baby, whose voice was sometimes distracting. But that is a small quibble in a marvelous book.
September 6, 2021
This book is strongest in the family relationships - the flawed, very different sisters and their different chosen families. South Asian readers will also appreciate the fairly authentic portrayal of Indian Muslim culture, including not just faith but also more secular Indian elements such as food, film, poetry, and music.
The middle section depicts one of the sisters, Seema's, life through highlights of 2000s American Democratic politics. I'm as much a political junkie as anyone here, but I prefer my political commentary in non-fiction form. This section was over long and awkward, and the book would have been stronger for cutting it almost entirely, leaving only what was necessary to show Seema and Bill's relationship.
I also didn't feel like the narrative voice of the fetal child worked. And I found the ending kind of... disgusting, but then, I never liked Keats much either.
The middle section depicts one of the sisters, Seema's, life through highlights of 2000s American Democratic politics. I'm as much a political junkie as anyone here, but I prefer my political commentary in non-fiction form. This section was over long and awkward, and the book would have been stronger for cutting it almost entirely, leaving only what was necessary to show Seema and Bill's relationship.
I also didn't feel like the narrative voice of the fetal child worked. And I found the ending kind of... disgusting, but then, I never liked Keats much either.
August 2, 2021
I enjoy reading debut novels because I am always excited to discover new authors and their work. And while I appreciate what Nawaaz Ahmed was trying to achieve with his debut Radiant Fugitives, it really did not work for me. I was immediately put off by the use of a fetus/unborn baby- I give Ahmed points for creativity but the narration was at most times weird and at some times, uncomfortable. It felt strange when the narrator would address his family members with "you"- I was constantly taken out of the narrative because it was clunky and awkward. While I enjoyed the exploration of relationships and some of the prose was beautiful, the reading experience was so uneven that I vacillated between being bored and being slightly uncomfortable. I think Ahmed's concept was a good one but the execution left me wanting much more.
Thank you to Netgalley and Counterpoint Press for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
2 stars.
Thank you to Netgalley and Counterpoint Press for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
2 stars.
July 26, 2021
Radiant Fugitives is an incredible debut novel from Nawaaz Ahmed. Following an Indian family struggling with issues of modernity, globalization, and religion, Radiant Fugitives is an incredibly complex and nuanced treatment with enormous compassion for its central characters. Ahmed has an impressive narrative voice and successfully integrates western and eastern texts, cultural and religious, to enhance his story’s relevance and reach.
Set primarily in 2010 San Francisco, the novel initially follows Seema Hussein, a successful fundraiser for Democratic politicians in the bay area, as she navigates the arrival of her estranged younger sister, Tahera, and terminally ill mother, Nafeesa. The story is told from the perspective of Seema’s unborn son, Ishraaq, in the final days of Seema’s pregnancy. The novel itself branches off between each woman’s individual story and how they have been shaped by the family patriarch’s decision to disown Seema after she comes out as queer. Seema seeks out a new family in the Bay Area, embracing American culture and political activism, while Tahera chooses to delve deeper into her faith, becoming a fiercely devout Muslim woman living with her husband and two young children in central Texas. Nafeesa struggles with her impending death and sees this visit as a way to rectify the wrongs committed by her husband and her own complicity in following through with his actions against Seema. The novel is like a pressure cooker, culminating to an explosive emotional and tragic end.
I was most impressed with Ahmed’s ability to find empathy for all of his characters and their struggles. Nafeesa, Tahera, and Seema have all been wrong and victimized in their lives, and the interplay between homophobia and Islamophobia in a post 9/11 America is smart and reads authentically. That the novel is narrated by Ishraaq adds a level of magic, hope, and ethereality to the plot. This narration also helps a grievous and tragic end go down smoothly, and leaves the reader with some sanguinity in spite of the, at times, sorrowful content.
Thanks to NetGalley and Counterpoint Press for the eARC and the opportunity to leave this review.
Set primarily in 2010 San Francisco, the novel initially follows Seema Hussein, a successful fundraiser for Democratic politicians in the bay area, as she navigates the arrival of her estranged younger sister, Tahera, and terminally ill mother, Nafeesa. The story is told from the perspective of Seema’s unborn son, Ishraaq, in the final days of Seema’s pregnancy. The novel itself branches off between each woman’s individual story and how they have been shaped by the family patriarch’s decision to disown Seema after she comes out as queer. Seema seeks out a new family in the Bay Area, embracing American culture and political activism, while Tahera chooses to delve deeper into her faith, becoming a fiercely devout Muslim woman living with her husband and two young children in central Texas. Nafeesa struggles with her impending death and sees this visit as a way to rectify the wrongs committed by her husband and her own complicity in following through with his actions against Seema. The novel is like a pressure cooker, culminating to an explosive emotional and tragic end.
I was most impressed with Ahmed’s ability to find empathy for all of his characters and their struggles. Nafeesa, Tahera, and Seema have all been wrong and victimized in their lives, and the interplay between homophobia and Islamophobia in a post 9/11 America is smart and reads authentically. That the novel is narrated by Ishraaq adds a level of magic, hope, and ethereality to the plot. This narration also helps a grievous and tragic end go down smoothly, and leaves the reader with some sanguinity in spite of the, at times, sorrowful content.
Thanks to NetGalley and Counterpoint Press for the eARC and the opportunity to leave this review.
March 5, 2022
One of my favorites from the Pen Faulkner long list, this phenomenal debut novel, set in San Francisco, tells a riveting story of a fractured South Asian/American family trying to repair itself following a multi -year separation caused by one sister’s having been disowned after coming out as lesbian. The family drama is intense, almost soapy at times—the mom is dying of cancer, the other sister has become a Muslim fundamentalist, and the sister's son acts out against an anti-Muslim action. Even the secondary characters are clearly drawn. Great treatment of family dynamics, Obama-era politics, anti-Muslim prejudice and the fight for gay marriage. Trigger warning for a death in childbirth. (Not a spoiler since it happens in the first chapter, but as we learn about the characters' back stories, the author builds suspense about how this event comes to pass and how the baby fares.)
August 4, 2023
seema's unborn son tells this story to his grandmother. his mother — muslim, lesbian, divorced, pregnant, political activist — has lived an extraordinary life. when nafeez, his grandmother, visits seema and tefarah in san francisco, she is old and dying. she tried to mend the divide between the two sisters and their family as a whole, but it is difficult. seema is head strong and judges her sister for being so religious, while tefarah judges seema for being too haram.
this novel is poetic in nature, beautifully crafted, and shockingly sad. as i write this review, after just finishing the novel moments ago, i am in tears. what an incredibly moving story.
this novel is poetic in nature, beautifully crafted, and shockingly sad. as i write this review, after just finishing the novel moments ago, i am in tears. what an incredibly moving story.
August 13, 2021
DNF page 72
I'm sorry, but I find this incredibly boring. The novel is all tell, no show, from the perspective of an omniscient fetus-narrator. Despite in the opening chapter saying he knew nothing of the outside world except what light/sounds filtered through his mother's belly, he goes on to tell the story of his conception and his mother's life. I just don't understand the purpose of the fetus being the narrator here, or why he addresses his grandmother as "you" when telling a story in third-person. Freud would have a field day with this.
A few other things that bother me:
It's pretty clear the author is a man from the way he's writing pregnancy. When Seema's sister gives her a hug, she's like, "Careful!" as though a pregnant belly is fragile as an egg. He just kind of peppers in a bunch of things he's heard pregnant people say, I guess.
His description of Leigh has exoticism vibes. Other characters aren't described in the same way he describes Leigh. In fact, most character descriptions are sparse, and mostly focus on clothing. Ahmed's description of Leigh is almost entirely dedicated to her appearance and body.
I also find it strange that in the rumors circulating about Seema, who was active in queer advocacy groups, terms her a "hasbian" rather than bisexual, pansexual, etc. Um? There are other letters in the acronym besides L and G.
I'm sorry, but I find this incredibly boring. The novel is all tell, no show, from the perspective of an omniscient fetus-narrator. Despite in the opening chapter saying he knew nothing of the outside world except what light/sounds filtered through his mother's belly, he goes on to tell the story of his conception and his mother's life. I just don't understand the purpose of the fetus being the narrator here, or why he addresses his grandmother as "you" when telling a story in third-person. Freud would have a field day with this.
A few other things that bother me:
It's pretty clear the author is a man from the way he's writing pregnancy. When Seema's sister gives her a hug, she's like, "Careful!" as though a pregnant belly is fragile as an egg. He just kind of peppers in a bunch of things he's heard pregnant people say, I guess.
His description of Leigh has exoticism vibes. Other characters aren't described in the same way he describes Leigh. In fact, most character descriptions are sparse, and mostly focus on clothing. Ahmed's description of Leigh is almost entirely dedicated to her appearance and body.
I also find it strange that in the rumors circulating about Seema, who was active in queer advocacy groups, terms her a "hasbian" rather than bisexual, pansexual, etc. Um? There are other letters in the acronym besides L and G.
September 4, 2021
This is such an unusual book, and difficult to describe in a way that does it justice. The whole is so much more than the sum of its parts. The novel is written primarily from the interior perspective of the characters. Technically, the book is written with a first person omniscient narrator, the in utero voice of the baby the main character is carrying. I sometimes forgot that, though, because of the way the author presents the painful depths of each character's internal struggles. At times, my heart soared with the allusions to poetry and the beauty of the natural world. Most of the time, though, my heart clenched for each of the characters, who clashed with each other and then expended tremendous emotional capital in reflection about the choices they'd made.
By the end of the story, there was so much friction that sparks were flying, and I had to clutch myself to keep from feeling unmoored. The author is sympathetic to the flaws of his characters, but it's clear that they're careening towards an explosive crescendo that no one can stop. It's breathtaking, jarring, and leaves no one unscathed, including the reader.
What's most remarkable is that this is the author's debut novel.
By the end of the story, there was so much friction that sparks were flying, and I had to clutch myself to keep from feeling unmoored. The author is sympathetic to the flaws of his characters, but it's clear that they're careening towards an explosive crescendo that no one can stop. It's breathtaking, jarring, and leaves no one unscathed, including the reader.
What's most remarkable is that this is the author's debut novel.
June 19, 2021
Wow.
Wow.
I tore through this beautifully rendered book. I don’t even have words for it right now.
Wow.
I tore through this beautifully rendered book. I don’t even have words for it right now.
October 5, 2021
I have a sweatshirt that says "Cultivate Empathy...Read". This brilliant debut fosters this idea throughout. I read this in one sitting.
November 3, 2021
I'm offering two reviews here, one by a friend who is a voracious and discerning reader who avoids social media, and another review by me. Both of us LOVED Radiant Fugitives.
My friend wrote: "Just turned the last page on Radiant Fugitives. Thumbs Up. An ambitious, big novel. He has guts to tackle all kinds of sensitive political, female, interfamilial, gay, religious issues. And does it really, really well. I think it has big movie potential.
"The interfamilial religious conflict struck a real chord with me. (My father threatened to sit shiva and pray for me as if I were dead if I married a non-Jew. I married a lapsed Catholic, and somehow he came around, not fully, but somewhat. The tension of that never went away.) p.s. I can’t recall a male author write so knowingly about menstruation."
As for me, I found the challenges of the book to be part of its beauty. Yes, it's sad from the get-go, when we learn that pregnant Seema is dying as her son is being born. And hey, life is sad, if you're paying attention. But in all that simultaneously is joy, and tenderness, and love, and hope, as well as fatigue, and struggle, and disappointment, and so much more on both personal and societal levels. Holding all those truths in our brains and bodies at once is challenging but we can see the beauty of a rainbow in the fog if we try. It's there. We can see us as part of that rainbow. The author's beautiful writing illuminates so much.
And as a white American who knows little about Islam, I found the Muslim characters' lives, thoughts, and experiences fascinating. Five stars to Radiant Fugitives.
My friend wrote: "Just turned the last page on Radiant Fugitives. Thumbs Up. An ambitious, big novel. He has guts to tackle all kinds of sensitive political, female, interfamilial, gay, religious issues. And does it really, really well. I think it has big movie potential.
"The interfamilial religious conflict struck a real chord with me. (My father threatened to sit shiva and pray for me as if I were dead if I married a non-Jew. I married a lapsed Catholic, and somehow he came around, not fully, but somewhat. The tension of that never went away.) p.s. I can’t recall a male author write so knowingly about menstruation."
As for me, I found the challenges of the book to be part of its beauty. Yes, it's sad from the get-go, when we learn that pregnant Seema is dying as her son is being born. And hey, life is sad, if you're paying attention. But in all that simultaneously is joy, and tenderness, and love, and hope, as well as fatigue, and struggle, and disappointment, and so much more on both personal and societal levels. Holding all those truths in our brains and bodies at once is challenging but we can see the beauty of a rainbow in the fog if we try. It's there. We can see us as part of that rainbow. The author's beautiful writing illuminates so much.
And as a white American who knows little about Islam, I found the Muslim characters' lives, thoughts, and experiences fascinating. Five stars to Radiant Fugitives.
August 10, 2021
This beautifully written intergenerational immigrant story would normally be my favorite kind of thing, but the Muslim representation has me feeling sad, disappointed, and also a little angry.
There is zero nuance to the representation of the practicing Muslim characters. All characters have the right to be flawed, and good authors help us understand even the most flawed characters. The main example of a practicing Muslim character in this book—Tahera—is a super villain in terms of her thoughts, feelings, and motivations. There is no subtly to her character. She is judgmental, close-minded, and self-centered. Her husband, also presented as a practicing Muslim, is an ineffective and sometimes cruel father. Their son is leaning into radicalization at the tender age of eleven.
Tahera's one redeeming moment at the end of the novel is too little, too late. And while the representation of other Muslims (including the Imam) is neutral or even positive, and there are thoughtful inclusions of verses of the Quran, it doesn't make up for the portrait of a practicing Muslim family—who do mainstream things like praying five times a day, wearing hijab, and eating halal—with bad character, despicable manners, and failing spiritual health. A portrayal of abhorrent people practicing the religion the way that so many of us do is not the kind of representation we need right now when Islamophobia is rampant.
It's irresponsible on the part of the author and the publisher, and it runs counter to Ahmed's message of live and let live.
There is zero nuance to the representation of the practicing Muslim characters. All characters have the right to be flawed, and good authors help us understand even the most flawed characters. The main example of a practicing Muslim character in this book—Tahera—is a super villain in terms of her thoughts, feelings, and motivations. There is no subtly to her character. She is judgmental, close-minded, and self-centered. Her husband, also presented as a practicing Muslim, is an ineffective and sometimes cruel father. Their son is leaning into radicalization at the tender age of eleven.
Tahera's one redeeming moment at the end of the novel is too little, too late. And while the representation of other Muslims (including the Imam) is neutral or even positive, and there are thoughtful inclusions of verses of the Quran, it doesn't make up for the portrait of a practicing Muslim family—who do mainstream things like praying five times a day, wearing hijab, and eating halal—with bad character, despicable manners, and failing spiritual health. A portrayal of abhorrent people practicing the religion the way that so many of us do is not the kind of representation we need right now when Islamophobia is rampant.
It's irresponsible on the part of the author and the publisher, and it runs counter to Ahmed's message of live and let live.
March 25, 2021
Radiant Fugitives is a unique book with a lot going on. Told in the perspective of the main character's unborn child, the baby-in-the-womb is somehow privy to all of his mother's family history and traumas. This story is beautifully written and an example of modern and inclusive literary fiction. Seema is a complex character, whose lesbian identity cost her a solid relationship with her Indian family. When Seema becomes pregnant, both her mother and sister come out to support her, however hesitantly. What ensues is the dredging of hurt feelings, jealousy, and confusion.
As the story continues and twists from past to present, there are honestly great moments that I deeply connected to. Seema's memories of her current and past lovers were raw and showed a perspective of the LGBT community many don't represent in literature: the person who doesn't quite know what label to identity as. Seema is incredibly flawed in this book, and while there are plenty of times I grew frustrated at her choices, I couldn't help but understand why she felt so determined to follow through with her original declarations. When you lose people close to you, you tend to cling closer to the things that divided you from them.
Seema's sister and mother were interesting in their own right. I loved the challenge Seema's mother had with supporting her daughter and also her husbands wishes for the household. I thought it was special that at the news of a big life event, Seema's mother would fly all the way from India to Seema's home to support her, even when it was against the family's wishes. The jealousy Seema's sister experiences due to this was also very frustrating. Seema's sister seemed to be there only for the mother, and she serves as a point of stress for Seema, even when Seema tries her best to reconnect with her family. The fact that Seema's sister and mother are almost always together in the narrative paints a tragic "what could but will never be" scenario. By the time this novel started, Seema will not be able to fix the hurt that has already been established. She will always be a mark, and by extension, so will the narrator of this story.
Be aware that this story doesn't end happily. This is a literary tragedy, set in Obama-era USA. If you want a new piece of literary fiction which tells a complex story with a different perspective, however, Radiant Fugitives will be comfortable on your bookshelf.
As the story continues and twists from past to present, there are honestly great moments that I deeply connected to. Seema's memories of her current and past lovers were raw and showed a perspective of the LGBT community many don't represent in literature: the person who doesn't quite know what label to identity as. Seema is incredibly flawed in this book, and while there are plenty of times I grew frustrated at her choices, I couldn't help but understand why she felt so determined to follow through with her original declarations. When you lose people close to you, you tend to cling closer to the things that divided you from them.
Seema's sister and mother were interesting in their own right. I loved the challenge Seema's mother had with supporting her daughter and also her husbands wishes for the household. I thought it was special that at the news of a big life event, Seema's mother would fly all the way from India to Seema's home to support her, even when it was against the family's wishes. The jealousy Seema's sister experiences due to this was also very frustrating. Seema's sister seemed to be there only for the mother, and she serves as a point of stress for Seema, even when Seema tries her best to reconnect with her family. The fact that Seema's sister and mother are almost always together in the narrative paints a tragic "what could but will never be" scenario. By the time this novel started, Seema will not be able to fix the hurt that has already been established. She will always be a mark, and by extension, so will the narrator of this story.
Be aware that this story doesn't end happily. This is a literary tragedy, set in Obama-era USA. If you want a new piece of literary fiction which tells a complex story with a different perspective, however, Radiant Fugitives will be comfortable on your bookshelf.
November 6, 2021
Truly amazing! This novel was pressed on me with wide-eyed emotion by the leader of one of my reading groups. In fact, she convinced us all to pick it for our November read. Otherwise, I may not have discovered it and I don't want that to happen to others.
A young woman, Seema, leaves her family in India when her father banishes her from them because she came out as a lesbian. Trust me here, for I was sore confused myself when it became apparent that the narrator of the tale is Seema's child, in the womb and being born. Nawaaz Ahmed convinced me to trust him and I was right to do so.
The story weaves a tortured path through the intersections of Islam, immigration, gay rights and American history from the late 20th to early 21st centuries. He explicates mother, daughter, sister relationships with so much heart that at first I assumed he was a woman. No, he is an empathic man whose life experiences as an immigrant from India, a gay man, a life in tech that morphed into a deep study of literature and the religion of Islam in which he was raised.
His novel is at once about the deeply personal and the widely universal as they intersect across the world and even across the universe. There are no stereotypes here and that may be Nawaaz's greatest achievement.
A young woman, Seema, leaves her family in India when her father banishes her from them because she came out as a lesbian. Trust me here, for I was sore confused myself when it became apparent that the narrator of the tale is Seema's child, in the womb and being born. Nawaaz Ahmed convinced me to trust him and I was right to do so.
The story weaves a tortured path through the intersections of Islam, immigration, gay rights and American history from the late 20th to early 21st centuries. He explicates mother, daughter, sister relationships with so much heart that at first I assumed he was a woman. No, he is an empathic man whose life experiences as an immigrant from India, a gay man, a life in tech that morphed into a deep study of literature and the religion of Islam in which he was raised.
His novel is at once about the deeply personal and the widely universal as they intersect across the world and even across the universe. There are no stereotypes here and that may be Nawaaz's greatest achievement.
August 1, 2021
Thanks to Partners NetGalley and Counterpoint Press for the digital ARC of Nawaaz Ahmed’s Radiant Fugitives in exchange for an honest review. The book will be published on August 3, 2021.
Radiant Fugitives is an ambitious debut novel with an unusual premise: it’s a story told predominantly in utero by Ishraaq, a sort of omniscient first-person narrator, allowed entry into his relatives’ perspectives before he takes his first breath. We know from the beginning that his mother, Seema, has died during labor, a piece of knowledge that casts a shadow over the book. It’s then that Ishraaq takes us back, unveiling the pasts of Seema and of the rest of his family—his aunt Tahera, his grandmother Nafeesa, and his father Bill—to consider what has led them to this point.
What’s revealed is a complex story that made me ache: it’s full of misunderstandings and missed connections that show the way these characters love each other and yet hurt each other, over and over again. It’s set against the backdrop of the candidacy and election of Barack Obama as President, driven by hope and (all too often) disappointment from those who have dared to hope.
Seema and Tahera immigrated to the United States from India. Seema left home when, after coming out to her family, her father exiled her. Her sister Tahera, a doctor, moved to the U.S. because of her marriage to a man with whom she forges a family who adheres strictly to Islam. It has been many years since their mother Nafeesa saw Seema, but now they’re united because Nafeesa insists that she must help Seema through the end of her pregnancy . . . and also because Nafeesa is dying.
The narrative weaves together these characters’ lives, circling around and back through time, until we delve deeply into their thoughts and feelings, alternately empathizing with them and frustrated by them, by their stubbornness and their inability to reach outside of their own vulnerability to each other. There’s much to admire in the way that Ahmed explores identity, in the ways that Seema is embraced by some and exiled by others because of her sexuality and that Tahera faces the same treatment because of her faith. The fact that those inconsistent reactions occur both among strangers and within their family is painful.
While there’s much to love and admire about this book, I did find the pacing to be slow, and I took several breaks from it to read other books. I think part of my issue is because of the internal nature of the narrative, and part is because the book is, often, quite sad. Still, Ahmed is considering here questions that we are—and should be—asking, about who we choose to govern and why, about who and what we welcome and accept, and about how each of us shapes an identity because of and against our families.
Behind it all is Ishraaq, a character who loves his family with such compassion and empathy and understanding that he forgives all, sharing their stories as utterly beautiful and utterly alive, even in tragedy. The contradiction inherent in the title Radiant Fugitives is borne out beautifully through Nawaaz Ahmed’s novel.
Radiant Fugitives is an ambitious debut novel with an unusual premise: it’s a story told predominantly in utero by Ishraaq, a sort of omniscient first-person narrator, allowed entry into his relatives’ perspectives before he takes his first breath. We know from the beginning that his mother, Seema, has died during labor, a piece of knowledge that casts a shadow over the book. It’s then that Ishraaq takes us back, unveiling the pasts of Seema and of the rest of his family—his aunt Tahera, his grandmother Nafeesa, and his father Bill—to consider what has led them to this point.
What’s revealed is a complex story that made me ache: it’s full of misunderstandings and missed connections that show the way these characters love each other and yet hurt each other, over and over again. It’s set against the backdrop of the candidacy and election of Barack Obama as President, driven by hope and (all too often) disappointment from those who have dared to hope.
Seema and Tahera immigrated to the United States from India. Seema left home when, after coming out to her family, her father exiled her. Her sister Tahera, a doctor, moved to the U.S. because of her marriage to a man with whom she forges a family who adheres strictly to Islam. It has been many years since their mother Nafeesa saw Seema, but now they’re united because Nafeesa insists that she must help Seema through the end of her pregnancy . . . and also because Nafeesa is dying.
The narrative weaves together these characters’ lives, circling around and back through time, until we delve deeply into their thoughts and feelings, alternately empathizing with them and frustrated by them, by their stubbornness and their inability to reach outside of their own vulnerability to each other. There’s much to admire in the way that Ahmed explores identity, in the ways that Seema is embraced by some and exiled by others because of her sexuality and that Tahera faces the same treatment because of her faith. The fact that those inconsistent reactions occur both among strangers and within their family is painful.
While there’s much to love and admire about this book, I did find the pacing to be slow, and I took several breaks from it to read other books. I think part of my issue is because of the internal nature of the narrative, and part is because the book is, often, quite sad. Still, Ahmed is considering here questions that we are—and should be—asking, about who we choose to govern and why, about who and what we welcome and accept, and about how each of us shapes an identity because of and against our families.
Behind it all is Ishraaq, a character who loves his family with such compassion and empathy and understanding that he forgives all, sharing their stories as utterly beautiful and utterly alive, even in tragedy. The contradiction inherent in the title Radiant Fugitives is borne out beautifully through Nawaaz Ahmed’s novel.
January 11, 2025
3.75 stars
Radiant Fugitives is a layered debut novel that blends family dynamics, identity, and political tensions into an emotionally charged narrative. The story follows Seema, a queer Muslim, Indian-American woman estranged from her family. In the final weeks of her pregnancy, she reunites with her mother and sister.
The choice of narration—Seema's unborn child—adds a unique perspective, but it can feel distancing at times, making it harder to connect with the characters' internal struggles fully.
Radiant Fugitives is a thought-provoking exploration of love, loss, and the complexities of human connection. Ahmed’s storytelling is compelling, and his nuanced handling of sensitive topics makes this a poignant read worth savoring.
Radiant Fugitives is a layered debut novel that blends family dynamics, identity, and political tensions into an emotionally charged narrative. The story follows Seema, a queer Muslim, Indian-American woman estranged from her family. In the final weeks of her pregnancy, she reunites with her mother and sister.
The choice of narration—Seema's unborn child—adds a unique perspective, but it can feel distancing at times, making it harder to connect with the characters' internal struggles fully.
Radiant Fugitives is a thought-provoking exploration of love, loss, and the complexities of human connection. Ahmed’s storytelling is compelling, and his nuanced handling of sensitive topics makes this a poignant read worth savoring.
April 28, 2021
The premise of this book as being narrated by a just-born baby whose mother is dying was intriguing, but other narrators kept creeping in which made the whole book feel disjointed. The estranged family element was compelling and heartbreaking, but the digressions into political campaigning, were tedious and made for a very uneven reading experience.
September 7, 2021
I just finished this book. The overall tone is depressing. The main characters, the 3 women, carry a lot of hurt and regrets (and they are very attached to this baggage). They misinterpret each other continually. The mother and two sisters are repeatedly bumping old bruises and wincing at being bumped. The pattern, or family system, is deeply entrenched with deep grooves of unhealed and unresolved pain and perceived slights....both are exacerbated and the grooves deepened.
These women are types of fugitives, imprisoned in their pain and misery. Sadly, they seem to shackle themselves.
The writing is very solid and in many passages, beautiful. But that beauty is marred and overwhelmed by relenting sadness; as a reader, I found this punishing.
The story elements of Obama before he's elected and the context of San Francisco adds to the book. The characters being Muslims in post-9/11 America and when a president is subjected to both racism and Islamophobia provide another interesting layer (and it's a timely one).
The depressing tone persists till the very end. There is no hope, no joy, no resolution.
This book also miserably fails the queer Bechdel test (not the GLAAD one) by using a dysfunctional and dangerous trope.
As mentioned, there are several passages of gorgeous writing; many describe Islamic prayer or the experience of praying. I share two here:
Why then does it feel to her, watching the worshippers move through the light--aglow as if they were made of that very light, like angels--that she stands in the shadows while they are blessed, transformed, redeemed?
Thereafter, each ayat seemed to reach toward him, a solar flare that surged with each prolonged vowel, seeking him out as if to sear him, receding only when sounding the final rhyming syllable. It started up again with the next ayat. He'd felt himself grow feverish. Even the ayats with only short vowels, were awful and awesome, the flare engorging itself with each percussive rhyme, as if pumping itself in preparation. Finally, at the raq that concluded one ayat, Imam Zia sustained the vowel so long that the flames succeeded in reaching Arshad. He'd felt burned, branded, effaced, and ecstatic.
These women are types of fugitives, imprisoned in their pain and misery. Sadly, they seem to shackle themselves.
The writing is very solid and in many passages, beautiful. But that beauty is marred and overwhelmed by relenting sadness; as a reader, I found this punishing.
The story elements of Obama before he's elected and the context of San Francisco adds to the book. The characters being Muslims in post-9/11 America and when a president is subjected to both racism and Islamophobia provide another interesting layer (and it's a timely one).
The depressing tone persists till the very end. There is no hope, no joy, no resolution.
This book also miserably fails the queer Bechdel test (not the GLAAD one) by using a dysfunctional and dangerous trope.
As mentioned, there are several passages of gorgeous writing; many describe Islamic prayer or the experience of praying. I share two here:
Why then does it feel to her, watching the worshippers move through the light--aglow as if they were made of that very light, like angels--that she stands in the shadows while they are blessed, transformed, redeemed?
Thereafter, each ayat seemed to reach toward him, a solar flare that surged with each prolonged vowel, seeking him out as if to sear him, receding only when sounding the final rhyming syllable. It started up again with the next ayat. He'd felt himself grow feverish. Even the ayats with only short vowels, were awful and awesome, the flare engorging itself with each percussive rhyme, as if pumping itself in preparation. Finally, at the raq that concluded one ayat, Imam Zia sustained the vowel so long that the flames succeeded in reaching Arshad. He'd felt burned, branded, effaced, and ecstatic.
August 14, 2025
"My mother's name is Seema. Which means face, something of her I will never see, or frontier, something I must leave behind. How twisted it is: to be able to properly mourn her, I must not cry, for with the very breath I take to cry, I will leave her behind. All that I will carry of her is what she has left imprinted deep within me. And the name she's given me. Ishraaq. Sunrise. Radiance."
☀️💔💧
Aptly named, this debut is a shining account of love, empowerment, estrangement, and identity. A family saga that brings conflicts of faith, tradition, and societal norms to the forefront, Radiant Fugitives is as heartbreaking as it elegant; a lyrical journey that reflects on love lost and gained, that exposes our deepest flaws, our most vital personal battles, and that professes that often the things that tear us apart are the things that connect us. This novel brims with humanity, at its best and worst, its most raw and real moments told with authenticity and compassion.
☀️💔💧
Aptly named, this debut is a shining account of love, empowerment, estrangement, and identity. A family saga that brings conflicts of faith, tradition, and societal norms to the forefront, Radiant Fugitives is as heartbreaking as it elegant; a lyrical journey that reflects on love lost and gained, that exposes our deepest flaws, our most vital personal battles, and that professes that often the things that tear us apart are the things that connect us. This novel brims with humanity, at its best and worst, its most raw and real moments told with authenticity and compassion.
August 10, 2021
This debut novel follows three generations of Muslim Indians as they attempt to reconnect after years of separation, it’s told by the newest member of the family starting from the time of his birth using flashbacks and present day storytelling.
It’s poetic, and bold and I absolutely loved it. Somehow all the characters exhibited a stubbornness that completely infuriated me, yet I was in awe of their ability to hold on to the their beliefs in the midst of constant judgement and criticism.
For all my literary fiction lovers out there, this one is for you! It comes out August 3rd! It’s a MUST READ! GO 👏🏼 GET 👏🏼IT 👏🏼
Thank you Counterpoint Press for gifting me this eARC!
It’s poetic, and bold and I absolutely loved it. Somehow all the characters exhibited a stubbornness that completely infuriated me, yet I was in awe of their ability to hold on to the their beliefs in the midst of constant judgement and criticism.
For all my literary fiction lovers out there, this one is for you! It comes out August 3rd! It’s a MUST READ! GO 👏🏼 GET 👏🏼IT 👏🏼
Thank you Counterpoint Press for gifting me this eARC!
June 5, 2021
I adored this book. I generally love stories about sisters and this one was amazing. Two very different individuals who haven’t spent any time together since childhood are thrown together in this book for their dying mother’s sake. The setting is awesome; San Franciso and it’s always in the background, especially the sky. The narrative perspective is different and very intriguing. The unborn son of Seema describes the scenes as they unfold. Mostly the second person is used to move the story along from the view of each of his three foremothers. The sibling rivalry is raw, honest and real. Each daughter has made different choices regarding lifestyle and more specifically their shared faith. There are flashbacks to life in India and the immigrant experience as educated women. Lots of recent history is mentioned and the perspective of a queer Indian Muslim woman on Obama’s election is very interesting. The election of Kamala Harris was fun to read about too. I also appreciated learning about the choice to be a practicing Muslim in contemporary America. Sometimes the voice from the womb waxes philosophical and approaches a prayer-like tone. Will he be born of envy, rivalry or hope? It worked for me but did stall the plot a bit. As a mother and a sister, I can totally relate to all three of the main characters and I felt close to each. Nobody is better or more “right” than the other. We’re all doing the best we can. Ultimately, even family lets us down, the unit and its bonds affect everything we do. Sisters will always be sisters even when friends and lovers come and go. The writing was amazing. I was quite surprised to see the author was male as the experience of women was so easy to identify with. The scene describing Seema’s performance to explain her choices to her dad and her mother’s profession of her love for Seema were juxtaposed in a magical way that was so effective. This book and its characters will stay with me for a long time. The ending surprised me but was satisfying. Thank you NetGalley for introducing me to a new author. I will be on the lookout for the next book from Nawaaz Ahmed.
July 28, 2021
Radiant Fugitives is not a happy novel. One learns very early on that things are not going in end well. But what an emotional ride to that ending! This book is getting a fair bit of buzz, and I get it. I blew through this book as it is easy to become very invested in the lives of the women featured. The center is Seema, a heavily pregnant woman living in San Francisco. She is visited by her mother and sister. Seema is estranged from her family after coming out as a lesbian, and her father disowns her. Her sister Tahera has become a devout Muslim who disapproves of Seema's choices. Their mother has a terminal illness and she is trying to reconcile her relationship with Seema and between her two daughters. There is so much complexity in these women and one can understand their choices and feelings. While the relationship between the three women is the tour de force of the book, secondary relationships are highlighted, most notably (and surprisingly not weirdly) the narration at times by Seema's soon to be born child. Seema's previous and current relationships with women and her marriage to a man are also discussed.
I dove into this book and was completely engaged. The one part that took me out of it was there was a large middle portion that focused primarily on the relationship between her and her husband interspersed with their volunteering for the Obama campaign. It really got into quite a bit of detail about her complicated feelings around Obama, which did give her character nuance, but I was really missing her mother and sister's narratives, so in the final portion when it turns back to the three of them, I was enthralled. The emotional ending is not unexpected but still packed a wallop. I am blown away that this is a debut novel and I cannot wait to read what Ahmed comes up with next.
Thank you to Counterpoint Press and NetGalley for the advance reader copy in exchange for honest review.
I dove into this book and was completely engaged. The one part that took me out of it was there was a large middle portion that focused primarily on the relationship between her and her husband interspersed with their volunteering for the Obama campaign. It really got into quite a bit of detail about her complicated feelings around Obama, which did give her character nuance, but I was really missing her mother and sister's narratives, so in the final portion when it turns back to the three of them, I was enthralled. The emotional ending is not unexpected but still packed a wallop. I am blown away that this is a debut novel and I cannot wait to read what Ahmed comes up with next.
Thank you to Counterpoint Press and NetGalley for the advance reader copy in exchange for honest review.
September 9, 2021
This book started as a promising story not unlike A Place for Us, which I absolutely loved. I suspect the similarities of some of the main elements of these books (Indian Muslim families, generational and cultural divides, navigating life in India v. the US) meant that I had expectations for Radiant Fugitives to mimic exactly what I liked in A Place for Us, which it didn't particularly do. I suppose that wasn't very fair on my end.
I struggled through most of the middle, where there's a timeline jump and we spend a lot of time dissecting politics of the late 00's. I couldn't tell if the adamant nature of some characters' anti-war perspective was realistic, or if the author was projecting his beliefs on that era now that there's some perspective. Either way, it felt preachy to me, even if it did illuminate the characters' motivations.
This book does a great job showcasing the difficulties of being a family when each person has completely different guiding principles. I loved the moments of uncertainty -- trying to build bridges and reconnect, but feeling insecurity in taking those steps. I especially loved certain characters' effort in the end to at least accept that there is another way to live a life, if not understand completely.
Solidly middle of the road rating, in the end. I'm sorry it couldn't be A Place for Us 2.0, but also sorry I couldn't let it be its own thing.
I struggled through most of the middle, where there's a timeline jump and we spend a lot of time dissecting politics of the late 00's. I couldn't tell if the adamant nature of some characters' anti-war perspective was realistic, or if the author was projecting his beliefs on that era now that there's some perspective. Either way, it felt preachy to me, even if it did illuminate the characters' motivations.
This book does a great job showcasing the difficulties of being a family when each person has completely different guiding principles. I loved the moments of uncertainty -- trying to build bridges and reconnect, but feeling insecurity in taking those steps. I especially loved certain characters' effort in the end to at least accept that there is another way to live a life, if not understand completely.
Solidly middle of the road rating, in the end. I'm sorry it couldn't be A Place for Us 2.0, but also sorry I couldn't let it be its own thing.
August 4, 2021
You know from the start that things are not going to end well for Seema, the mother of the yet to be born narrator of this unusual novel. Set primarily in San Francisco, it's the story of Seema, her mother Nafeesa, and her sister Tahera, Indian Muslims from Chenai. Nafeesa and Tahera have come to support Seema in the last weeks of her pregnancy - a pregnancy she never anticipated. Seema left India after her devout father cast her out for loving women. Deeply devout Tahera, a physician, lives in Irvine, Texas with her family. Some of the most interesting sections of the novel involve Tahera and her son. Know that midway through the novel, it devolves for too long into a recitation of events of the 2008 election, which some might find interesting but frankly I remember it and would have preferred a look Tahera's life at the time. The atmospherics are wonderful- you'll smell the spices and feel the tension in the air- and the characters vivid. The ending is painful. Thanks to netgalley for the ARC. It takes a bit of patience but it ultimately a rewarding read.
January 17, 2022
The story of two Indian sisters in America. One is a devout Muslim, the other a lapsed Muslim. They're both obstinate and judgmental. They were both rather unsympathetic characters to me, but the writing is very good.
June 14, 2021
Couldn't finish it, so this is an incomplete review. I found the plot slow-moving and the writing self-conscious, formulaic, not believable.
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