Samar Yazbek

A fascinating look at the war in Syria from the perspective of a teen girl. But Rima is no ordinary narrator. She is mute (possibly selective mutism, as she is able to recite, and the more she wants to speak the more she is unable to). She wanders--her mother has always kept a rope tied between their wrists to not lose her. She has little fear and knows little about the world, but how much of this is from naivete and isolation is unclear. Rima has an intense and creative inner life--she creates and writes stories (though her writing may not be standard Arabic--flourished? Illuminated? Pictorial?); she reads and memorizes and can recite the Koran.

On a day trip to visit a friend, Rima's mother is shot and killed by a guard. Her brother comes to get Rima from the hospital, and her world gets more confusing and complicated as her brother is a fighter, and she must be tied at home to keep her safe.

I found this story fascinating, and I realize I have never considered how war creates even more difficulties for parents of disabled children/adults and their siblings. In Rima's case, she must be tied to keep her home, but be able to reach bed/toilet/safety from bombs. She cannot work or be sent to scavenge food, because she will wander. Her perspective, though is enlightening and logical--why hide from the bombs, there is nowhere safe. She observes everything.

A very interesting look at life inside this ongoing conflict.… (más)

A short, strange, sad novel in translation about a young girl in the middle of the war in Syria who is in some way on the autism spectrum, though it's not explicitly stated anywhere—she doesn’t speak (but can sing the Qur'an), walks compulsively, and narrates her story in a strange and disjointed, but also affecting, way. It’s an odd book. I felt like it spun out a bit during the girl Rima's free associations—she's obsessed with The Little Prince, a sort of synesthetic philosophy of colors in her drawings, and Hassan, a friend of her brother's who rescues her from a chemical attack. But Rima's disassociated, often on the surface inappropriate worldview also worked as an apt commentary on war—how can anyone on the ground, caught in the middle of it, really make sense of it? What would actually be an "appropriate" reaction? Sometimes that kind of metaphor seems forced, but I thought it worked even when the style didn't always cohere.… (más)