What do you think?
Rate this book
Brother Alive
From the winner of the NYPL Young Lions Fiction Award, CLMP Firecracker Award, and Bard Fiction Prize, and finalist for the NBCC John Leonard Prize, an astonishing debut novel about family, sexuality, and capitalist systems of control, following three adopted brothers who live above a mosque in Staten Island with their imam father In 1990, three boys are born, unrelated but intertwined by Dayo, Iseul, and Youssef. They are adopted as infants and share a bedroom perched atop a mosque in one of Staten Island’s most diverse and underserved neighborhoods. The three boys are an inseparable trio, but Dayo is of Nigerian origin, Iseul is Korean, and Youssef indeterminately Middle Eastern. Youssef shares everything with his brothers, except for one he sees a hallucinatory double, an imaginary friend who seems absolutely real, a shapeshifting familiar he calls Brother. Brother persists as a companion into Youssef’s adult life, supporting him but also stealing his memories and shaking his grip on the world.
The boys’ adoptive father, Imam Salim, is known in the community for his stirring and radical sermons, but at home he often keeps himself to himself, spending his evenings in his study with whiskey-laced coffee, reading poetry or writing letters to his former compatriots back in Saudi Arabia. Like Youssef, he too has secrets, including the cause of his failing health and the truth about what happened to the boys’ parents. When, years later, Imam Salim’s path takes him back to Saudi Arabia, the boys, now adults, will be forced to follow. There they will be captivated by an opulent, almost futuristic world, a linear city that seems to offer a more sustainable modernity than that of the West. But this conversion has come at a great cost, and Youssef and Brother too will have to decide if they should change to survive, or try to mount a defense of their deeply-held beliefs. Stylistically brilliant, intellectually acute, and deft in its treatment of complex themes, Brother Alive is a remarkable debut by a hugely talented writer that questions the nature of belief and explores the possibility of reunion for those who are broken.
The boys’ adoptive father, Imam Salim, is known in the community for his stirring and radical sermons, but at home he often keeps himself to himself, spending his evenings in his study with whiskey-laced coffee, reading poetry or writing letters to his former compatriots back in Saudi Arabia. Like Youssef, he too has secrets, including the cause of his failing health and the truth about what happened to the boys’ parents. When, years later, Imam Salim’s path takes him back to Saudi Arabia, the boys, now adults, will be forced to follow. There they will be captivated by an opulent, almost futuristic world, a linear city that seems to offer a more sustainable modernity than that of the West. But this conversion has come at a great cost, and Youssef and Brother too will have to decide if they should change to survive, or try to mount a defense of their deeply-held beliefs. Stylistically brilliant, intellectually acute, and deft in its treatment of complex themes, Brother Alive is a remarkable debut by a hugely talented writer that questions the nature of belief and explores the possibility of reunion for those who are broken.
352 pages, Paperback
First published July 12, 2022
80 people are currently reading
6415 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 143 reviews
August 28, 2024
https://www.instagram.com/p/CqIfB20LH...
Intelligent and ambitious, this novel is an ode to love and family, as well as an expose on oppressive religious fervor and capitalistic exploitation. Through a mix of genres and a hallucinatory blend of past and present, Brother Alive is a challenging novel well worth the effort; with profoundly beautiful prose and a haunted, longing voice, we explore topics such as governmental control, sexual awakening, and coming to terms with truths of fully knowing a guardian, a family, flaws and secrets revealed. Equal parts challenging and compelling, this novel is a multilayered piece guaranteed to show something new with every read.
Intelligent and ambitious, this novel is an ode to love and family, as well as an expose on oppressive religious fervor and capitalistic exploitation. Through a mix of genres and a hallucinatory blend of past and present, Brother Alive is a challenging novel well worth the effort; with profoundly beautiful prose and a haunted, longing voice, we explore topics such as governmental control, sexual awakening, and coming to terms with truths of fully knowing a guardian, a family, flaws and secrets revealed. Equal parts challenging and compelling, this novel is a multilayered piece guaranteed to show something new with every read.
May 14, 2025
Brother Alive
is an intellectual feast, an existential wail, the anguished contraction of feeling, a pyretic dream. Simply put, it's a work like no other. Stitched from three unique parts, the novel tells the story of three brothers connected not by blood or race, but by the protective gaze of their adoptive father, Imam Salim.
But as the man begins to unravel, the mystery shrouding his relationship with the boys' parents transforms into a physical, gouging weight; one that propels them back to Saudi Arabia, where they confront the horrors of their shared past.
Khalid's decadent prose roils and subdues the pages of the book, swelling around the seam of its poetic tone, fudging the grainy feel of reality. With its tidal portrayal of a world both physical and formless, the narration rushes through us, delighting and confounding in equal measure. And the deeper we delve into the story, the more ominous the enigma of Youssef's mental affliction appears. The Brother's shape acclimates to the fissures it leaves in the boy's form, cementing their relationship as not only parasitic, but oddly tender.
Khalid paints a visceral world, one of touch and taste and smell, made fatty and plush by its various sensory elements. This physicality extends to the central group of characters molded into a family by time and circumstance, the volatility of emotion that stuffs the present back into the past. The repartee between the brothers is particularly pleasing, with its communion between humor and fraternal devotion; a tangible thing that screeches from the strain it's put under by life's twistings.
The way the author looks at terrorism as both a concept and an act foreign to the boys, but still bound to them by virtue of their faith and appearance, is disarming. He uses dark humor to demystify the threat, to neutralize and subvert emotion. What follows is the boys' bleak, untouched acceptance of life's burdens, the prejudices that brand them outsiders in the West.
Of course, this view evolves over time, hardens to match the scope of their expanding awareness and baffled rage, in turn thickening the story's prevalent sense of despair. And while it feeds primarily on the body, this feeling also intrudes on the mind, which ends up being both the stage on which the plot unfurls, and its ultimate spoil.
As both Youssef and Imam Salim are gradually disassembled, and their emotional lives thinned to match the wilting shape of their bodies, the prose takes on the feel of a stripped, floundering nerve. It leaves the characters tender, in a state of agonized exposure, controlled by the force and texture of emotion, the cooling breath of every passing moment. And since Khalid's world is a sensory one, the reader is left thrashing in solidarity.
That’s not to say that Brother Alive earns its appeal only for its reflections concerning humanity, corporeality and love. The novel’s sentiment, gliding through the narrative as a wholly separate entity, is undeniably helmed by meaty intrigue. The deeper we reach into the plot, the more clarity we find. In the end, it's the midsection of the feral tale that contorts and mangles its own face, redefining the past as only the present can.
With ruthless, breathtaking precision, Khalid tears into the notion of identity, the very thing that defines the physical and the transcendent. Under his ministrations, the mind buckles. Identities are splayed open and reworked, exposed to the tonguing of the depths of the subconscious.
And with themes of capitalism, sexuality and oppression looming over the novel's pages, it's no surprise that the suffocation of the mind is expressed doubly through the smothering of one country by another; the consumption and manipulation of the Middle East by the West, as well as the throttling of one social caste by another within the fringes of one nation.
This impression is made full-bodied by the characters' constant questioning of the validity of their sentiments, their fury and indignation, as well as their convictions. Naturally, this leads to a further splintering of reality, demanding deeper meditation on the placement of the self in a capitalist world, which is known to operate in stark contrasts. Breaching the gap requires the invention of grey space, facilitated by a sedated morality.
Overall, Brother Alive is an exhilarating study of selfhood. Intensified by the synergy between circumstance and impulse, the novel shocks the mind into alertness, and the body into grief.
But as the man begins to unravel, the mystery shrouding his relationship with the boys' parents transforms into a physical, gouging weight; one that propels them back to Saudi Arabia, where they confront the horrors of their shared past.
Khalid's decadent prose roils and subdues the pages of the book, swelling around the seam of its poetic tone, fudging the grainy feel of reality. With its tidal portrayal of a world both physical and formless, the narration rushes through us, delighting and confounding in equal measure. And the deeper we delve into the story, the more ominous the enigma of Youssef's mental affliction appears. The Brother's shape acclimates to the fissures it leaves in the boy's form, cementing their relationship as not only parasitic, but oddly tender.
Khalid paints a visceral world, one of touch and taste and smell, made fatty and plush by its various sensory elements. This physicality extends to the central group of characters molded into a family by time and circumstance, the volatility of emotion that stuffs the present back into the past. The repartee between the brothers is particularly pleasing, with its communion between humor and fraternal devotion; a tangible thing that screeches from the strain it's put under by life's twistings.
The way the author looks at terrorism as both a concept and an act foreign to the boys, but still bound to them by virtue of their faith and appearance, is disarming. He uses dark humor to demystify the threat, to neutralize and subvert emotion. What follows is the boys' bleak, untouched acceptance of life's burdens, the prejudices that brand them outsiders in the West.
Of course, this view evolves over time, hardens to match the scope of their expanding awareness and baffled rage, in turn thickening the story's prevalent sense of despair. And while it feeds primarily on the body, this feeling also intrudes on the mind, which ends up being both the stage on which the plot unfurls, and its ultimate spoil.
As both Youssef and Imam Salim are gradually disassembled, and their emotional lives thinned to match the wilting shape of their bodies, the prose takes on the feel of a stripped, floundering nerve. It leaves the characters tender, in a state of agonized exposure, controlled by the force and texture of emotion, the cooling breath of every passing moment. And since Khalid's world is a sensory one, the reader is left thrashing in solidarity.
That’s not to say that Brother Alive earns its appeal only for its reflections concerning humanity, corporeality and love. The novel’s sentiment, gliding through the narrative as a wholly separate entity, is undeniably helmed by meaty intrigue. The deeper we reach into the plot, the more clarity we find. In the end, it's the midsection of the feral tale that contorts and mangles its own face, redefining the past as only the present can.
With ruthless, breathtaking precision, Khalid tears into the notion of identity, the very thing that defines the physical and the transcendent. Under his ministrations, the mind buckles. Identities are splayed open and reworked, exposed to the tonguing of the depths of the subconscious.
And with themes of capitalism, sexuality and oppression looming over the novel's pages, it's no surprise that the suffocation of the mind is expressed doubly through the smothering of one country by another; the consumption and manipulation of the Middle East by the West, as well as the throttling of one social caste by another within the fringes of one nation.
This impression is made full-bodied by the characters' constant questioning of the validity of their sentiments, their fury and indignation, as well as their convictions. Naturally, this leads to a further splintering of reality, demanding deeper meditation on the placement of the self in a capitalist world, which is known to operate in stark contrasts. Breaching the gap requires the invention of grey space, facilitated by a sedated morality.
Overall, Brother Alive is an exhilarating study of selfhood. Intensified by the synergy between circumstance and impulse, the novel shocks the mind into alertness, and the body into grief.
July 21, 2023
Real Rating: 4.5* of five
FINALIST for the second annual Ursula K. LeGuin Prize for Fiction. Winners were announced on her birthday, 21 October, last year, so might be again this year, but no formal announcement of that was made that I found.
The Publisher Says: From the winner of the NYPL Young Lions Fiction Award and the CLMP Firecracker Award, and finalist for the NBCC John Leonard Prize, comes an astonishing debut novel about family, sexuality, and capitalist systems of control, following three adopted brothers who live above a mosque in Staten Island with their imam father
In 1990, three boys are born, unrelated but intertwined by circumstance: Dayo, Iseul, and Youssef. They are adopted as infants and live in a shared bedroom perched atop a mosque in one of Staten Island’s most diverse and precarious neighborhoods, Coolidge. The three boys are an inseparable if conspicuous trio: Dayo is of Nigerian origin, Iseul is Korean, and Youssef indeterminately Middle Eastern. Nevertheless, Youssef is keeping a secret: he sees a hallucinatory double, an imaginary friend who seems absolutely real, a shapeshifting familiar he calls Brother.
The boys’ adoptive father, Imam Salim, is known for his radical sermons, but at home he is often absent, spending long evenings in his study with whiskey-laced coffee, writing letters to his former compatriots back in Saudi Arabia. Like Youssef, he too has secrets, including the cause of his failing health and the truth about what happened to the boys’ parents. When Imam Salim’s path takes him back to Saudi Arabia, the boys will be forced to follow. There they will be captivated by an opulent, almost futuristic world, a linear city that seems to offer a more sustainable modernity than that of the West. But they will have to change if they want to survive in this new world, and the arrival of a creature as powerful as Brother will not go unnoticed.
Stylistically brilliant and intellectually acute, Brother Alive is a remarkable novel of family, capitalism, power, sexuality, and the possibility of reunion for those who are broken.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: I'll start with a quote, though not one from the book:
—Ursula K. Le Guin in her 2014 National Book Award speech
It seems to me that UKL was thinking of Zain Khalid.
In his debut novel, he takes on a lot...A LOT...of terribly important subjects of immediate world relevance. As a result of this, some storytelling basics don't get their arguably necessary due, eg howinahell does a single Saudi man enter the US and live in New York City with not one soul thinking it odd he's raising kids of wildly disparate ethnic backgrounds? Social services would be involved in these kids' lives in the real NYC.
So, okay, I'm not going to go too hard after that kind of stuff because it's just not that relevant to the author's purpose. Be aware that details like this are left open, and decide if that matters a lot to you. I decided it didn't and moved on to Youssef, Iseul, and Dayo's life with Father. Salim, their radical reformist of a father, is ironically named something that means "correct, free from error, safe, intact, unharmed, unblemished, healthy" while also drinking whisky in his coffee (much against his religion's explicit orders) as he pens famously incendiary sermons on Muslim identity. (See what I mean about Child Protective Services? There'd be a home visit or two.) What makes this more important is that it's Youssef who's narrating this story...his benignly neglected son notices the father's behavior that doesn't quite fit with the mesage. He and his brothers (and Brother, his possibly real/probably imaginary/not quite sure if he's corporeal other, sometimes animal sometimes human self. The boys, like siblings do, just accept the way things are, and move on with growing up and growing apart. Youssef questions the origins of his family but never the reality of it; they, in turn, seem to know about Brother but find their own concerns...who were their parents? Where did their Imam-dad get them?...more compeling and involving than some imaginary friend of their brother's. That same brother who is the one whose non-standard thinking unearths the secrets they've wondered about.
A parent worth his salt would notice this kid's persistent and consistent hallucination and get him some help...not Salim. He's got bigger problems. He wants these boys to be models of what he thinks is right-thinking, morally correct men! While demanding they conform, he models the opposite in his Westernized behaviors, and ignores a sign of burgeoning mental health issues in Youssef. Which is why this section of the story involved me so deeply. I was malignly neglected, while being told I was not who they wanted me to be, by my family (especially my parents) and was re-experiencing the outrage I now feel at their dereliction of duty on these boys' behalf. It kept me fanning the pages for sure.
The action shifts from lower-class Staten Island in post-9/11 world to Salim's story of from whom and why he got these kids. This is interesting, but it's really lightly gone over, and is the set-up for the final section set in The Line, Saudi Arabia's astounding city of the future that they're building with the oceans of money petrochemical exploitation has given them permission to create using slave labor from around the developing world. (This isn't foregrounded, but there's a strong streak of anti-capitalism in Zain Khalid's anti-colonialism. These are very agreeable qualities to me, but note their presence before deciding to make a run at this long, magisterially paced book.) It is in this last section that I lost my sense of the author being in full control of his narrative. A disease process, the shift of Brother from a child's fantasy key to a very different one as Youssef, now a gay young adult, resumes the narrative's reins.
This near-future Paradise is poorly thought out, to me as a long term reader of speculative fiction. The satirical, I suppose, take on the use of state power melded to religious coercion (not the author's words), made me think of so many literary writers' attempts to use genre conventions in not-new, not-fresh ways to make their points. I like ambiguity, and I approve of the author's politics, but I wanted the end section to finish before it did because too many simple snips that could've brought the purpose of the piece into focus weren't made. The result is meandering and unfocused ideas veiled by some fantastical, only-slightly-exaggerated elements. Go big or go home, Author Khalid: It's SF or it's not.
What it was, as a whole read, was beautifully written on a sentence level family saga with a gay undercurrent. It really deserves praise and support because it's hugely ambitious and frankly uninterested in your whiteness. It merits your eyeblinks because it's got a solid core of story that, my crotchets and misgivings aside, is draws the story-hungry reader along.
I'm very glad I read it. I hope you will, too.
FINALIST for the second annual Ursula K. LeGuin Prize for Fiction. Winners were announced on her birthday, 21 October, last year, so might be again this year, but no formal announcement of that was made that I found.
The Publisher Says: From the winner of the NYPL Young Lions Fiction Award and the CLMP Firecracker Award, and finalist for the NBCC John Leonard Prize, comes an astonishing debut novel about family, sexuality, and capitalist systems of control, following three adopted brothers who live above a mosque in Staten Island with their imam father
In 1990, three boys are born, unrelated but intertwined by circumstance: Dayo, Iseul, and Youssef. They are adopted as infants and live in a shared bedroom perched atop a mosque in one of Staten Island’s most diverse and precarious neighborhoods, Coolidge. The three boys are an inseparable if conspicuous trio: Dayo is of Nigerian origin, Iseul is Korean, and Youssef indeterminately Middle Eastern. Nevertheless, Youssef is keeping a secret: he sees a hallucinatory double, an imaginary friend who seems absolutely real, a shapeshifting familiar he calls Brother.
The boys’ adoptive father, Imam Salim, is known for his radical sermons, but at home he is often absent, spending long evenings in his study with whiskey-laced coffee, writing letters to his former compatriots back in Saudi Arabia. Like Youssef, he too has secrets, including the cause of his failing health and the truth about what happened to the boys’ parents. When Imam Salim’s path takes him back to Saudi Arabia, the boys will be forced to follow. There they will be captivated by an opulent, almost futuristic world, a linear city that seems to offer a more sustainable modernity than that of the West. But they will have to change if they want to survive in this new world, and the arrival of a creature as powerful as Brother will not go unnoticed.
Stylistically brilliant and intellectually acute, Brother Alive is a remarkable novel of family, capitalism, power, sexuality, and the possibility of reunion for those who are broken.
I RECEIVED A DRC FROM THE PUBLISHER VIA NETGALLEY. THANK YOU.
My Review: I'll start with a quote, though not one from the book:
“Hard times are coming, when we’ll be wanting the voices of writers who can see alternatives to how we live now, can see through our fear-stricken society and its obsessive technologies to other ways of being, and even imagine real grounds for hope. We’ll need writers who can remember freedom—poets, visionaries—realists of a larger reality.”
—Ursula K. Le Guin in her 2014 National Book Award speech
It seems to me that UKL was thinking of Zain Khalid.
In his debut novel, he takes on a lot...A LOT...of terribly important subjects of immediate world relevance. As a result of this, some storytelling basics don't get their arguably necessary due, eg howinahell does a single Saudi man enter the US and live in New York City with not one soul thinking it odd he's raising kids of wildly disparate ethnic backgrounds? Social services would be involved in these kids' lives in the real NYC.
So, okay, I'm not going to go too hard after that kind of stuff because it's just not that relevant to the author's purpose. Be aware that details like this are left open, and decide if that matters a lot to you. I decided it didn't and moved on to Youssef, Iseul, and Dayo's life with Father. Salim, their radical reformist of a father, is ironically named something that means "correct, free from error, safe, intact, unharmed, unblemished, healthy" while also drinking whisky in his coffee (much against his religion's explicit orders) as he pens famously incendiary sermons on Muslim identity. (See what I mean about Child Protective Services? There'd be a home visit or two.) What makes this more important is that it's Youssef who's narrating this story...his benignly neglected son notices the father's behavior that doesn't quite fit with the mesage. He and his brothers (and Brother, his possibly real/probably imaginary/not quite sure if he's corporeal other, sometimes animal sometimes human self. The boys, like siblings do, just accept the way things are, and move on with growing up and growing apart. Youssef questions the origins of his family but never the reality of it; they, in turn, seem to know about Brother but find their own concerns...who were their parents? Where did their Imam-dad get them?...more compeling and involving than some imaginary friend of their brother's. That same brother who is the one whose non-standard thinking unearths the secrets they've wondered about.
A parent worth his salt would notice this kid's persistent and consistent hallucination and get him some help...not Salim. He's got bigger problems. He wants these boys to be models of what he thinks is right-thinking, morally correct men! While demanding they conform, he models the opposite in his Westernized behaviors, and ignores a sign of burgeoning mental health issues in Youssef. Which is why this section of the story involved me so deeply. I was malignly neglected, while being told I was not who they wanted me to be, by my family (especially my parents) and was re-experiencing the outrage I now feel at their dereliction of duty on these boys' behalf. It kept me fanning the pages for sure.
The action shifts from lower-class Staten Island in post-9/11 world to Salim's story of from whom and why he got these kids. This is interesting, but it's really lightly gone over, and is the set-up for the final section set in The Line, Saudi Arabia's astounding city of the future that they're building with the oceans of money petrochemical exploitation has given them permission to create using slave labor from around the developing world. (This isn't foregrounded, but there's a strong streak of anti-capitalism in Zain Khalid's anti-colonialism. These are very agreeable qualities to me, but note their presence before deciding to make a run at this long, magisterially paced book.) It is in this last section that I lost my sense of the author being in full control of his narrative. A disease process, the shift of Brother from a child's fantasy key to a very different one as Youssef, now a gay young adult, resumes the narrative's reins.
This near-future Paradise is poorly thought out, to me as a long term reader of speculative fiction. The satirical, I suppose, take on the use of state power melded to religious coercion (not the author's words), made me think of so many literary writers' attempts to use genre conventions in not-new, not-fresh ways to make their points. I like ambiguity, and I approve of the author's politics, but I wanted the end section to finish before it did because too many simple snips that could've brought the purpose of the piece into focus weren't made. The result is meandering and unfocused ideas veiled by some fantastical, only-slightly-exaggerated elements. Go big or go home, Author Khalid: It's SF or it's not.
What it was, as a whole read, was beautifully written on a sentence level family saga with a gay undercurrent. It really deserves praise and support because it's hugely ambitious and frankly uninterested in your whiteness. It merits your eyeblinks because it's got a solid core of story that, my crotchets and misgivings aside, is draws the story-hungry reader along.
I'm very glad I read it. I hope you will, too.
June 14, 2023
I really think there needs to be more noise about this book! It is astonishing as a debut novel.
It is intelligent, philosophical and genre-defying. I really feel like I’ve been on a journey with these characters.
It is at times a little challenging, and I did reread quite a few sections just to make sure I was up to speed. But I like being challenged. I didn’t always know on which side of the characters I sat either. There’s definitely a lot to question here.
The early pages felt reminiscent of Jonathan Safran Foer, which is a total compliment in my book. Zain Khalid is certainly a writer to keep an eye on!
If you’ve not read it yet, and you like longish, challenging books I absolutely recommend you do!
It is intelligent, philosophical and genre-defying. I really feel like I’ve been on a journey with these characters.
It is at times a little challenging, and I did reread quite a few sections just to make sure I was up to speed. But I like being challenged. I didn’t always know on which side of the characters I sat either. There’s definitely a lot to question here.
The early pages felt reminiscent of Jonathan Safran Foer, which is a total compliment in my book. Zain Khalid is certainly a writer to keep an eye on!
If you’ve not read it yet, and you like longish, challenging books I absolutely recommend you do!
Read
July 1, 2022DNF at 78%
I’m taking the unusual-for-me step of abandoning this when I’m already three quarters of the way into it.
I came to this very much wanting to read it but also I think with some preconceived notions of what it would be like. The cover copy – three ethnically diverse boys, one with a possibly dangerous imaginary friend, being raised by an imam in New York before travelling to Saudi Arabia �� was intriguing, as were the blurbs about it being fiercely intelligent and intellectual. For some reason, I think I was expecting something in the vein of Roberto Bolaño, with colourful characters in a city talking about politics and beliefs and culture and everything very playful.
The more I read, the more that idea receded, and I’m not really sure what I got instead. I can’t say this is a bad book. The writing is pretty good. I thought the depiction of childhood in New York was lovely (this coming from someone who doesn’t care if she never reads another book set in New York). There were brief snippets that almost brought the Saudi Arabia setting alive as well… snapshots of people partying on roof tops. I would have liked more of that.
I think my problem is with the plot. Often these philosophical/intellectual novels don’t have much plot, but this does – and it’s all ridiculous. I think it tries to throw too many elements in the pot. The ethnic diversity of the boys is presumably to indicate the many faces of Islam around the world, but somehow it made everything a bit silly, in a “a Nigerian, a Korean and an Arab walked into a bar” way. There are a great many characters, some in the present day, some in flashback and although I’m not usually one for forgetting who is who I found it hard to keep track of them, they didn’t feel well developed and none of them were sympathetic bar the protagonist Youssef (maybe). I was expecting Brother, the imaginary friend, to be a metaphor for something, or a physical manifestation of mental illness, but instead he is something else and that whole plotline also struck me as ridiculous.
Mostly I just feel confused as to what I’m supposed to be taking from this. It’s clearly ambitious, parts of it are interesting, but other parts just feel hysterical. I really wish Khalid had dropped most of the plot, the twins bit, Iseul’s girlfriend, Youssef’s photographer mother and most of the supporting cast. I would have been much happier with a story of three adopted brothers and a mental illness in a post-911 America.
So a DNF because it's also long, and just not for me I’m afraid, though I can see how it could work for someone else.
Thank you to Edelweiss and publisher Grove for an ARC
I’m taking the unusual-for-me step of abandoning this when I’m already three quarters of the way into it.
I came to this very much wanting to read it but also I think with some preconceived notions of what it would be like. The cover copy – three ethnically diverse boys, one with a possibly dangerous imaginary friend, being raised by an imam in New York before travelling to Saudi Arabia �� was intriguing, as were the blurbs about it being fiercely intelligent and intellectual. For some reason, I think I was expecting something in the vein of Roberto Bolaño, with colourful characters in a city talking about politics and beliefs and culture and everything very playful.
The more I read, the more that idea receded, and I’m not really sure what I got instead. I can’t say this is a bad book. The writing is pretty good. I thought the depiction of childhood in New York was lovely (this coming from someone who doesn’t care if she never reads another book set in New York). There were brief snippets that almost brought the Saudi Arabia setting alive as well… snapshots of people partying on roof tops. I would have liked more of that.
I think my problem is with the plot. Often these philosophical/intellectual novels don’t have much plot, but this does – and it’s all ridiculous. I think it tries to throw too many elements in the pot. The ethnic diversity of the boys is presumably to indicate the many faces of Islam around the world, but somehow it made everything a bit silly, in a “a Nigerian, a Korean and an Arab walked into a bar” way. There are a great many characters, some in the present day, some in flashback and although I’m not usually one for forgetting who is who I found it hard to keep track of them, they didn’t feel well developed and none of them were sympathetic bar the protagonist Youssef (maybe). I was expecting Brother, the imaginary friend, to be a metaphor for something, or a physical manifestation of mental illness, but instead he is something else and that whole plotline also struck me as ridiculous.
Mostly I just feel confused as to what I’m supposed to be taking from this. It’s clearly ambitious, parts of it are interesting, but other parts just feel hysterical. I really wish Khalid had dropped most of the plot, the twins bit, Iseul’s girlfriend, Youssef’s photographer mother and most of the supporting cast. I would have been much happier with a story of three adopted brothers and a mental illness in a post-911 America.
So a DNF because it's also long, and just not for me I’m afraid, though I can see how it could work for someone else.
Thank you to Edelweiss and publisher Grove for an ARC
January 16, 2023
I’m disappointed. I loved the first two parts, but the third part unraveled into a convoluted and confusing mess. I lost interest and no longer felt invested. Part 4 brought me back a bit; I must say that Chapter 54 was gorgeously-written and gave me the feels; wish the second half felt more like that. I’m happy I read this novel, but ultimately I was left unsatisfied. It was doing too much, maybe.
July 15, 2022
Let me open by noting that before you read this review, you may want to look over the publisher's description of Brother Alive, which can be found here: Brother Alive.
I make this suggestion because Zain Khalid's Brother Alive has a lot going on. A. LOT. What I propose to do here is to discuss the three sections into which the novel is divided with some reflection on prose and plotting, but I won't be providing a summary. The publisher has done a much better job of that than I could.
The novel looks at the lives of three non-biological brothers, born in Saudi Arabia and being raised by a Saudi Imam currently living on Staten Island. It has elements of what may be magical realism—or real and exceptionally uncommon individual experiences. The book's three sections focus on
• The boys' childhood and their relationship with Imam Salim
• Imam Salim's recounting of his life in Saudi Arabia and why he is raising the boys
• A journey the boys take to Saudi Arabia as adults after Imam Salim has returned there.
I found the first section to be the strongest because the characters—even though only one of them is narrating this section—are so clearly portrayed, and even with the not-quite-ordinary elements in this novel I never felt like my willing suspension of disbelief was extended to a breaking point.
When I reached the second section, which is narrated by Imam Salim, I welcomed his voice. I'd seen the questions the boys he's raising had regarding both him and their birth parents, and this section provided responses to those questions and many more. I didn't feel the fondness for him that I felt for the boys, but I don't think the author wanted me to. Imam Salim is a conflicted character who inspires conflicting feelings.
In the final section, we return to the voice of the boy (now man) who narrated the first section. This is where the "rubber band" of my willing suspension of disbelief might snap. Part of the reason for this is that I simply don't know enough about daily life in Saudi Arabia and the different ways in which Islam is/isn't practiced there to be able to separate the accurate from the inaccurate. In Brother Alive, Saudi Arabia depicted in a dystopian manner in some very specific ways. I can easily accept a dystopian view of Saudi Arabia, given its human rights record and the vast disparities in wealth there, but I don't know whether I can accept the particular dystopian version of Saudi Arabia depicted in the final section of Brother Alive.
Brother Alive a a remarkable first novel given the complexity of its plotting and number of characters. If you're a reader who likes a "tidy" narrative, Brother Alive won't work for you. If you're a reader willing to embrace complexity and dissonance, Brother Alive should provide you with some satisfying reading.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own.
I make this suggestion because Zain Khalid's Brother Alive has a lot going on. A. LOT. What I propose to do here is to discuss the three sections into which the novel is divided with some reflection on prose and plotting, but I won't be providing a summary. The publisher has done a much better job of that than I could.
The novel looks at the lives of three non-biological brothers, born in Saudi Arabia and being raised by a Saudi Imam currently living on Staten Island. It has elements of what may be magical realism—or real and exceptionally uncommon individual experiences. The book's three sections focus on
• The boys' childhood and their relationship with Imam Salim
• Imam Salim's recounting of his life in Saudi Arabia and why he is raising the boys
• A journey the boys take to Saudi Arabia as adults after Imam Salim has returned there.
I found the first section to be the strongest because the characters—even though only one of them is narrating this section—are so clearly portrayed, and even with the not-quite-ordinary elements in this novel I never felt like my willing suspension of disbelief was extended to a breaking point.
When I reached the second section, which is narrated by Imam Salim, I welcomed his voice. I'd seen the questions the boys he's raising had regarding both him and their birth parents, and this section provided responses to those questions and many more. I didn't feel the fondness for him that I felt for the boys, but I don't think the author wanted me to. Imam Salim is a conflicted character who inspires conflicting feelings.
In the final section, we return to the voice of the boy (now man) who narrated the first section. This is where the "rubber band" of my willing suspension of disbelief might snap. Part of the reason for this is that I simply don't know enough about daily life in Saudi Arabia and the different ways in which Islam is/isn't practiced there to be able to separate the accurate from the inaccurate. In Brother Alive, Saudi Arabia depicted in a dystopian manner in some very specific ways. I can easily accept a dystopian view of Saudi Arabia, given its human rights record and the vast disparities in wealth there, but I don't know whether I can accept the particular dystopian version of Saudi Arabia depicted in the final section of Brother Alive.
Brother Alive a a remarkable first novel given the complexity of its plotting and number of characters. If you're a reader who likes a "tidy" narrative, Brother Alive won't work for you. If you're a reader willing to embrace complexity and dissonance, Brother Alive should provide you with some satisfying reading.
I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own.
August 3, 2022
3.5 Stars.
My review is published in the August edition of GOODREADING magzine.
July 3, 2022
Some of the most beautifully crafted characters in modern fiction are in this book. The story is intelligent, wonderful, and original. The author succeeds in not allowing readers to reduce this book to fit within the BIPOC, LGBTQ+, and Muslim boundaries, even though it can successfully find a place in any of those narratives. The book asks bigger questions, forcing you to contend with the world in its current state. Consider this essential reading.
August 12, 2022
This novel is full of surprises. It's a challenging read, and frustrating at times, but the writing is just stunning throughout. The first section is a marvel start to finish. While the story's many turns are unexpected and sometimes clunky, I'm glad to have stuck through it - the end result is a wildly original and incredibly moving epic.
June 21, 2022
I really wanted to like this book, and there were things about it that were interesting, but I also found it irredeemably stupid. It was so refreshing to read a book that didn't center around white characters at all (not one single character that has any significant dialogue or story line is white) but the premise was ridiculous. Three boys, all the same age are raised by a mysterious man named Imam Salim in NYC. For some reason, no one seems to find it strange that a single man is raising three boys who are clearly not related to him in a ramshackle house/mosque, so the boys have a carefree childhood, roaming the neighborhood, and learning interesting things like philosophy and languages. Youssef is the narrator of this story and he differs from his brothers because he has an entity that is part of his psyche, an entity he calls Brother, who shapeshifts, and follows him, and eats up pieces of Youssef's knowledge. The family sort of seems to know about it, but seem to operate in a strange "don't ask, don't tell" mindset. The boys are really more interested in learning what they can about their mysterious adopted father, and their possible biological parents. Then the boys grow up, and realize that there were secrets that Imam Salim has been keeping from them (which they sort of knew, but never cared to really learn about). Discovering the secrets was the middle part of the book, and it was the most interesting part of the story. In fact, reading almost saved the rest of the book, and if the conclusion had been as satisfying as the reveal, I probably would have rated this book with four stars.
But the conclusion was convoluted, confusing, and generally terrible (especially because as it turns out there can be no completely happy endings when people refuse to communicate clearly with each other.) It was also excruciatingly long -- what could have been wrapped up in a few chapters dragged on for over 100 pages, and by the end of the book I barely cared what happened to anyone, except that I had dozens of questions about what happened to them that were not answered. In searching for something (anything) good to say about this book I can say that it was beautifully written, and as stated earlier was a great example of how BIPOC characters can dominate a story.
But the conclusion was convoluted, confusing, and generally terrible (especially because as it turns out there can be no completely happy endings when people refuse to communicate clearly with each other.) It was also excruciatingly long -- what could have been wrapped up in a few chapters dragged on for over 100 pages, and by the end of the book I barely cared what happened to anyone, except that I had dozens of questions about what happened to them that were not answered. In searching for something (anything) good to say about this book I can say that it was beautifully written, and as stated earlier was a great example of how BIPOC characters can dominate a story.
April 28, 2024
Eine Geschichte um 3 Adoptivbrüder, die in New York aufwachsen und durch den Adoptivvater mehr oder weniger verleitet werden, nach Saudi-Arabien auszureisen um seinen Widersacher Scheich Ibrahim zu vernichten. Es geht dabei um islamischen Extremismus. Ibrahim hat eine eigene kapitalistische Welt geschaffen, Widersacher oder Leute die sich dem verweigern, werden mit Giftgas behandelt. Ausgenommen dem für mich langweiligen 1. Teil nimmt das Buch aber dem 2. Abschnitt gefangen. Eine Geschichte wie ein Krimi bis zum Ende des Buches. Deshalb war für mich doch das Buch sehr lesenswert. Kritisieren würde ich warum es die Figur des Bruders braucht, ein Geist, der in und durch einen der 3 Brüder lebt und quält. Personen werden ohne Erklärung eingeführt. Youssef, der Erzähler und der jüngste der Brüder wechselt das Objekt seiner Erzählung, sie ist ab der Hälfte nicht immer an mich als Leser gerichtet. Vielleicht müsste ich den Roman mehrmals lesen, um mehr zu verstehen.
January 8, 2023
The world is full of family you don't know.
What a gorgeous, messy, imaginative debut novel. It deals with some really interesting ideas, like the ethics and morals of revolution and world-building, and the concept of family, especially in a Muslim community. It's such a genre-bending novel that jumps from drama to sci-fi to political, religious and back, I felt like it was a mashup of The Matrix, Fritz Lang's Metropolis, Terry Gillam's Brazil, and so much more. It's rare that I would want to re-read a novel so quickly, but I'm already putting this back on TBR to reread.
What a gorgeous, messy, imaginative debut novel. It deals with some really interesting ideas, like the ethics and morals of revolution and world-building, and the concept of family, especially in a Muslim community. It's such a genre-bending novel that jumps from drama to sci-fi to political, religious and back, I felt like it was a mashup of The Matrix, Fritz Lang's Metropolis, Terry Gillam's Brazil, and so much more. It's rare that I would want to re-read a novel so quickly, but I'm already putting this back on TBR to reread.
March 29, 2023
In einer Sozialbausiedlung auf Staten Island/New York wachsen drei 1990 geborene Jungen wie Geschwister auf, adoptiert von Salim, einem Imam indischer Herkunft, der einiges zu verbergen hat. Unübersehbar stammt Dayo von nigerianischen Vorfahren ab, Iseul von Koreanern und der Icherzähler Youssef aus dem Mittelmeerraum. Youssef richtet einen in der Ichform niedergeschriebenen Monolog an Iseuls Tochter Ruhi, in dem er Rechenschaft ablegt über „uns drei“, ihre Eltern und ihren Adoptiv-Großvater Salim. Ruhi kann circa 2010 geboren sein. Den gesamten Roman über habe ich mich gefragt, ob es die Erzählerfigur überhaupt interessiert, was ein Kind/eine junge Frau gern über ihre Eltern wissen würde. Youssef nimmt beim Aufwachsen zu dritt eine besondere Rolle ein, weil zu ihm ein fiktiver Gefährte „Bruder“ in Form eines gestaltwandelnden Dämons gehört und weil Salim zu ihm bewusst eine größere Distanz hält als zu seinen Brüdern. Die deutliche Abweisung treibt Youssef dazu, akribisch Salims Geheimnisse auszuforschen. Dass der Imam heimlich homosexuelle Beziehungen pflegt, scheint jedoch profan im Vergleich zu den ambitionierten Plänen für seine Jungs. Unübersehbar wirkt Salim körperlich wie psychisch schwer krank, auch er könnte seinen persönlichen Dämon im Nacken haben.
Salims Söhne sollen an westlichen Eliteuniversitäten technische Fächer oder BWL studieren; zusätzlich den Islam an einer Universität in Syrien und von Salim eine profunde Bildung über islamische Kultur erhalten. Für die Aufnahme an einer US-Universität wirkt das überehrgeizig, da jedenfalls der kräftige Iseul realistische Aussichten auf ein Sportstipendium hat. Geld scheint für Salim keine Rolle zu spielen, da er einen finanzkräftigen Mäzen im Rücken hat. Rückblickend auf den Beginn des 3. Jahrtausends scheint nahezuliegen, was Salim mit seiner technisch und interkulturell versierten Drei-Mann-Sondereinheit bezwecken könnte.
Dass Youssefs Niederschrift ein Monolog bleibt und Ruhi ihn nicht selbst befragen kann, hat mich jedoch bald unbefriedigt gelassen, da Salim und er beide schwer krank und in ihrer Urteilsfähigkeit eingeschränkt wirkten.
Salim lebt in New York in einer reinen Männergesellschaft, seine Adoptivkinder sind erstaunlicherweise ebenfalls männlich. Frauen haben in seinem Umfeld Kinder zu gebären, aufzuziehen und ausreichend Essen auf den Tisch zu bringen. Meine Hoffnung auf eine innovative Rolle Salims als allein erziehender Vater erfüllte sich leider nicht, als er die frisch aufgenommen Säuglinge gleich der nächstbesten kinderlosen Frau in die Arme drückte, die sie einige Monate lang gegen Bezahlung allein versorgte. Auch als Salim den erwachsenen Söhnen sein Modell erläutert, aus dem Geflecht Religion, Macht und Kapitalismus maximalen Profit herauszuschlagen, änderte das nichts mehr daran, dass seine Welt mit abwesenden Frauen für mich schlicht uninteressant ist.
Solange ich noch über das Schicksal der leiblichen Eltern der Kinder rätseln konnte, über Youssefs Dämon und Salims rätselhafte Krankheit, hat der Plot mich absolut gefesselt, danach konnten selbst Verrat, Rache und Traumatisierung den Roman nicht mehr retten.
Eine ambitionierte Variante alternativer Zeitgeschichte, die einige Konzentration erfordert, weil die Erzählerstimme wenig zuverlässig wirkt.
Salims Söhne sollen an westlichen Eliteuniversitäten technische Fächer oder BWL studieren; zusätzlich den Islam an einer Universität in Syrien und von Salim eine profunde Bildung über islamische Kultur erhalten. Für die Aufnahme an einer US-Universität wirkt das überehrgeizig, da jedenfalls der kräftige Iseul realistische Aussichten auf ein Sportstipendium hat. Geld scheint für Salim keine Rolle zu spielen, da er einen finanzkräftigen Mäzen im Rücken hat. Rückblickend auf den Beginn des 3. Jahrtausends scheint nahezuliegen, was Salim mit seiner technisch und interkulturell versierten Drei-Mann-Sondereinheit bezwecken könnte.
Dass Youssefs Niederschrift ein Monolog bleibt und Ruhi ihn nicht selbst befragen kann, hat mich jedoch bald unbefriedigt gelassen, da Salim und er beide schwer krank und in ihrer Urteilsfähigkeit eingeschränkt wirkten.
Salim lebt in New York in einer reinen Männergesellschaft, seine Adoptivkinder sind erstaunlicherweise ebenfalls männlich. Frauen haben in seinem Umfeld Kinder zu gebären, aufzuziehen und ausreichend Essen auf den Tisch zu bringen. Meine Hoffnung auf eine innovative Rolle Salims als allein erziehender Vater erfüllte sich leider nicht, als er die frisch aufgenommen Säuglinge gleich der nächstbesten kinderlosen Frau in die Arme drückte, die sie einige Monate lang gegen Bezahlung allein versorgte. Auch als Salim den erwachsenen Söhnen sein Modell erläutert, aus dem Geflecht Religion, Macht und Kapitalismus maximalen Profit herauszuschlagen, änderte das nichts mehr daran, dass seine Welt mit abwesenden Frauen für mich schlicht uninteressant ist.
Solange ich noch über das Schicksal der leiblichen Eltern der Kinder rätseln konnte, über Youssefs Dämon und Salims rätselhafte Krankheit, hat der Plot mich absolut gefesselt, danach konnten selbst Verrat, Rache und Traumatisierung den Roman nicht mehr retten.
Eine ambitionierte Variante alternativer Zeitgeschichte, die einige Konzentration erfordert, weil die Erzählerstimme wenig zuverlässig wirkt.
July 27, 2022
So much of what made this book good (character development, diverse characters, lush prose, expansive plots) is also what made it a hard read. There is so much going on in the story that the reader never feels quite centered in the story. I thought I knew I was reading a story of three boys being raised by an iman in New York and the struggles of self-identity, feeling at home, mental illness, and sexuality. And if the book had kept to that I would have really been happy and enjoyed my reading. But at about 70% it seemed to take on a completely different tangent. Maybe I missed the signs that this is where the story was headed? It felt so unnecessary. But if the author included it then obviously I wasn't understanding something. And that is where frustration crept in. Still beautiful writing, still interesting characters.
Thanks to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for a copy of the book. This review is my own opinion.
Thanks to NetGalley and Grove Atlantic for a copy of the book. This review is my own opinion.
January 1, 2023
How is everybody sleeping on this. Best debut in years.
April 19, 2025
took me so long to get through this mammoth of a book
the writing is so decadent and so so good but the plot gets tooooo intertwined and too thick???? it's like making pancakes yeah it tastes good but it gets messy and by the time you've made them you're not even really feeling it because there's flour and egg yolk all over the countertops you know
absolutely LOOOVED the explorations of being a young muslim in a western society!!!! there were such intimate moments of childhood that I genuinely thought were such niche and individual experiences so that was weird to read (good weird)
shame it just dragged on and started losing the plot (quite literally)
the writing is so decadent and so so good but the plot gets tooooo intertwined and too thick???? it's like making pancakes yeah it tastes good but it gets messy and by the time you've made them you're not even really feeling it because there's flour and egg yolk all over the countertops you know
absolutely LOOOVED the explorations of being a young muslim in a western society!!!! there were such intimate moments of childhood that I genuinely thought were such niche and individual experiences so that was weird to read (good weird)
shame it just dragged on and started losing the plot (quite literally)
October 23, 2022
The premise was intriguing. I especially liked the idea of the 3 adopted brothers who are so racially diverse. That element that affects memory and compliance was innovative but then its purpose or intent seemed to be half-baked or at least not well thought through (I guess there's plenty of that IRL too.).
The writing is technically solid.
The pacing is too slow for my taste/s. I felt the read dragged and the whole thing with Brother and the various dreams, hallucinations or whatever altered states of consciousness became tiresome and extraneous. Part 3 and Part 4 really were especially sluggish.
I appreciated the social commentary about colonialism, world history, and Islam.
I'm undecided about how I feel about the resolution of this book.
The writing is technically solid.
The pacing is too slow for my taste/s. I felt the read dragged and the whole thing with Brother and the various dreams, hallucinations or whatever altered states of consciousness became tiresome and extraneous. Part 3 and Part 4 really were especially sluggish.
I appreciated the social commentary about colonialism, world history, and Islam.
I'm undecided about how I feel about the resolution of this book.
July 8, 2022
One of the excellent books I have read in recent times
August 22, 2022
Best contemporary novel I've read in a long time.
September 13, 2022
I enjoyed the middle section, The Barbarians. Even though I'm not queer, I thought Khalid wrote Youssef's story in a compelling way, that I couldn't help but feel empathy. I didn't connect with anything in the rest of the novel: literally nothing.
February 7, 2024
What a rewarding read. This book is one of the first of this year that has challenged me both in style and genre, but kept me enraptured by the story. Seriously, what a talent Khalid has, and what a shame there is not more of an enthusiastic audience for him.
This is a book you have to read slowly, a book where you might need to reread full paragraphs and catch all the different meanings that can be said in a few words. Every detail feels intentional, and there's this perfect connection between politics, religion and capitalism and how the Arab world (particularly Saudi) and the West exploits all three. There were times where I wondered what the point of certain scenes were, but then they play out in such a phenomenal, breathless way. Youssef is one of the most fascinating protagonists I've followed in a book in a long, long time. From beginning to end, what a beautiful unraveling of his character, and his Brother.
Yeah, I can understand some may DNF this. It's a book that requires your full attention. But when you give it... I think it's highly worth it. There's some troubling, truly fucked up things that happen as well, but I'm obsessed with how Khalid wrote them. Fuck man, I wish he had more out there.
Perhaps he was like the West and would only acknowledge the blood on his hands if it were in service of himself. They all have taken their cue from God, who remains blameless despite a universe of evidence to the contrary.
This is a book you have to read slowly, a book where you might need to reread full paragraphs and catch all the different meanings that can be said in a few words. Every detail feels intentional, and there's this perfect connection between politics, religion and capitalism and how the Arab world (particularly Saudi) and the West exploits all three. There were times where I wondered what the point of certain scenes were, but then they play out in such a phenomenal, breathless way. Youssef is one of the most fascinating protagonists I've followed in a book in a long, long time. From beginning to end, what a beautiful unraveling of his character, and his Brother.
Yeah, I can understand some may DNF this. It's a book that requires your full attention. But when you give it... I think it's highly worth it. There's some troubling, truly fucked up things that happen as well, but I'm obsessed with how Khalid wrote them. Fuck man, I wish he had more out there.
Perhaps he was like the West and would only acknowledge the blood on his hands if it were in service of himself. They all have taken their cue from God, who remains blameless despite a universe of evidence to the contrary.
September 13, 2022
Pretty good for a book about New York! Although I think that instead of exploring reality in fiction, maybe the author should try exploring realities outside of New York.
October 16, 2022
Wow is the only word that I can think of to describe this book. It is a novel that transcends genres. I am seriously conflicted about just how many genres I want to add to the list of tags.
The description of the book and the write-up introducing this book here on Goodreads does a fairly good job of summarizing it. We have a man, Iman Salim, who is raising three young boys, Dayo (of Yemen extraction) Iseul (Korean), and Youssef (undetermined but Middle Eastern) in his apartment which also doubles as a mosque. He is a radical Iman with ties to Saudi Arabia where the boys were all born. Oh, and let's not forget that one of the boys has an imaginary (??) friend that follows him to adulthood and beyond. Brother is like another character.
Then one day, he goes back to Saud Arabia and the boy all three follow. There they find a futuristic city that has everything imaginable, including AIs and the latest in technology. It seems that the nation is trying to create the perfect Islamic nation, a nation where everybody is welcome as they are.
But there is something rotten under the surface and has been ever since the boys were born, even before, this plan. At least one of the three boys along with the Iman has a disease. It is at this point that the novel shows its genre-bridging features. I would suggest that it qualifies as science fiction, although the book is not labeled as science fiction.
It also features a certain tolerance for things that Islam does not, in fact, usually approve of...even a range of sexual conduct.
I find it an amazing book that kept me glued to it, and feel it is well worth five stars. I would recommend it to anybody who enjoys stories that explain what it is to be human, even if not a "normal" human.
The description of the book and the write-up introducing this book here on Goodreads does a fairly good job of summarizing it. We have a man, Iman Salim, who is raising three young boys, Dayo (of Yemen extraction) Iseul (Korean), and Youssef (undetermined but Middle Eastern) in his apartment which also doubles as a mosque. He is a radical Iman with ties to Saudi Arabia where the boys were all born. Oh, and let's not forget that one of the boys has an imaginary (??) friend that follows him to adulthood and beyond. Brother is like another character.
Then one day, he goes back to Saud Arabia and the boy all three follow. There they find a futuristic city that has everything imaginable, including AIs and the latest in technology. It seems that the nation is trying to create the perfect Islamic nation, a nation where everybody is welcome as they are.
But there is something rotten under the surface and has been ever since the boys were born, even before, this plan. At least one of the three boys along with the Iman has a disease. It is at this point that the novel shows its genre-bridging features. I would suggest that it qualifies as science fiction, although the book is not labeled as science fiction.
It also features a certain tolerance for things that Islam does not, in fact, usually approve of...even a range of sexual conduct.
I find it an amazing book that kept me glued to it, and feel it is well worth five stars. I would recommend it to anybody who enjoys stories that explain what it is to be human, even if not a "normal" human.
May 31, 2022
After reading the NYT "Writers to Watch This Summer" article, I decided to check out "Zain Khalid's first novel, "Brother Alive" The novel is about three unrelated brothers who are adopted together. Youssef, one of the brothers, is our narrator, and he also has an imaginary shape-shifting brother that he addresses throughout the novel. Imam Salim is the brothers' adoptive father who raises the boys at the mosque.
The novel begins in New York, but when the brothers are adults, they return to Saudi Arabia, where readers are introduced to this utopian city . The novel addresses issues of capitalism, sexuality, terrorism, and political and self-identity. They keep secrets from each other, protect each other, turn on each other, and ultimately, want to know their personal histories that left them abandoned as infants.
Has this not been such an anguishing time with mass murders in America, I may have been able to become more fully engaged with this complex novel. My attention span waned as my spirit drained, yet, I'd pick up the novel once again, delving into another chapter, feeling, at times, a bit more rejuvenated, at others more depressed, but ultimately we shared the same grief throughout the novel.
The novel begins in New York, but when the brothers are adults, they return to Saudi Arabia, where readers are introduced to this utopian city . The novel addresses issues of capitalism, sexuality, terrorism, and political and self-identity. They keep secrets from each other, protect each other, turn on each other, and ultimately, want to know their personal histories that left them abandoned as infants.
Has this not been such an anguishing time with mass murders in America, I may have been able to become more fully engaged with this complex novel. My attention span waned as my spirit drained, yet, I'd pick up the novel once again, delving into another chapter, feeling, at times, a bit more rejuvenated, at others more depressed, but ultimately we shared the same grief throughout the novel.
September 22, 2022
Creative, gorgeous on the sentence level, but frustrating and disappointing. This novel has a long first act in Staten Island that meanders before the story begins. The book summary sounds like this is what this story is about - a story of Islam in America. But it's really not about America at all; it's about the sacrifices one makes to build a utopia. The second act, a flashback set in Saudi Arabia, is almost a contained novella, and I liked this part the best. When we get back to the present time and travel to Saudi once again, it meanders, getting weirder and more pointed in its satire, before petering out in blood and smoke.
So the satire is creative; and ever notice how so many books this year (from Immortal King Rao to Half-Built Garden to the Books of Jacob) are about (flawed) utopian projects? What is it about our moment - utopia or time travel, or both? I was frustrated with this one. I wanted more philosophy and psychology, less cloak and daggers.
So the satire is creative; and ever notice how so many books this year (from Immortal King Rao to Half-Built Garden to the Books of Jacob) are about (flawed) utopian projects? What is it about our moment - utopia or time travel, or both? I was frustrated with this one. I wanted more philosophy and psychology, less cloak and daggers.
August 24, 2022
The prose is just stunning and clever. The author uses tools I haven’t seen much of in contemporary literature. I love books that are teachers. I learnt so much from the author by looking up references I was not familiar with to understand his thought process better. You could absolutely read it without doing that but I found it to be a pleasure. The characters- Without sharing too many spoilers, I’d like to say that they will be remembered for a very, very long time to come. The plot in itself is brilliant- it is an epic and spans across geographies while taking readers along for a wild ride. It is a sensitive book, one I will definitely reread in the years to come.
March 3, 2023
Truly brilliant prose, and my favorite debut in recent years. "Brother" is such a beautifully executed concept. I love that Zain Khalid explored the concept of the double. That it held the book together through multiple genre shifts is a feat. The characters are all people of color; their stories are honest and vividly told. Mind you, this is a big book, not in size, but in content. If you prefer a linear narrative tackling a singular subject, this may not be for you. The author must have lived quite a life + has a wonderful mind. What a journey!
August 25, 2024
loved the first 2/3, got lost in the last 1/3
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 14, 2025
So stark nachgelassen. Klappentext und erster Teil lassen nicht darauf schließen dass es in die Dystopie/Sci-Fi Richtung geht. Irgendwann nur noch bisschen verwirrend
Displaying 1 - 30 of 143 reviews