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The Translator
Sammar is a young Sudanese widow, working as an Arabic translator at a British university. Following the sudden death of her husband, and estranged from her young son, she drifts, grieving and isolated. Life takes a positive turn when she finds herself falling in love with Rae, a Scottish academic. To Sammar, he seems to come from another world and another culture, yet they are drawn to each other. "The Translator" is a story about love, both human and divine. Leila Aboulela's first novel, first published in 1999, was longlisted for the Orange Prize for Fiction and the IMPAC Dublin Award, and was shortlisted for the Saltire Prize. It has subsequently appeared in editions worldwide.
192 pages, Paperback
Published April 14, 2005
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3667 people want to read
About the author
Leila Aboulela
36 books926 followersLeila Aboulela grew up in Khartoum, Sudan where she attended the Khartoum American School and Sister School. She graduated from Khartoum University in 1985 with a degree in Economics and was awarded her Masters degree in statistics from the London School of Economics. She lived for many years in Aberdeen where she wrote most of her works while looking after her family; she currently lives and lectures in Abu Dhabi.
She was awarded the Caine Prize for African Writing in 2000 for her short story The Museum and her novel The Translator was nominated for the Orange Prize in 2002, and was chosen as a Notable Book of the Year by the New York Times in 2006.
She was awarded the Caine Prize for African Writing in 2000 for her short story The Museum and her novel The Translator was nominated for the Orange Prize in 2002, and was chosen as a Notable Book of the Year by the New York Times in 2006.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 359 reviews
September 13, 2017
Warning to readers! This edition includes an incredibly annoying introduction by Anne Donovan which praises Aboulela's text in rather general terms and summarises the plot, as if you want the whole thing spoiled for you before beginning! It isn't a gripping thriller full of twists, granted, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be surprised by what the author hasn't chosen to reveal in advance. This would have made a perfectly inoffensive and even pleasant afterword, if one were needed, but I was very cross I had read it before the book...
Which itself was a delight! Thoughts, facts, explanations, shaped into such light, pure poetry. I could open it at any page and find rhythms and sparkle, water meeting the sun. Mundane detail, dialogue convincingly banal, arranged with an artful simplicity that turns me back into life newly sensitised to its holiness, although I am an unbeliever or at best/worst a kind of pagan constantly finding pieces of paradise in life.
From the perspective of Sammar, working as a translator of Arabic for a university professor, emotional landscapes of grief, loneliness, faith, love and belonging are mapped out between the people and places that shape them: Aberdeen where she works with Rae and Yasmin, Khartoum and her family there, as well as her absent husband. Sammar's occasional ability to slip into a vision of Khartoum in a state of daydream drew me in deeper, intrusions of colour and warmth that evoke both the exotic other place (for me) and Sammar's longing for the place she feels most at home.
This book felt to me like a relation of The Incomers, in the clarity and warmth of its mood as well as its theme.
I loved the focus on the emotional, the personal in the deepest sense, where feeling is not some kind of distorting medium that unfortunately refracts the truth, but the source of truth, the first way of knowing, the means of crossing the leaky borders of the individual person with the rest of the world. When Yasmin explains why Rae could not become a Muslim, not only does the reason seem absurd to Sammar, but the whole rationalist epistemology on which Scottish (and by extension all other 'Western') universities and the disciplines (a revealing word, that) they deal in is suddenly exposed as suspect, even bizarre. Yet, the novel rarely describes emotions directly, rather demonstrates them through actions, paints them with physical descriptions, making use of the weather and minutiae of everyday life; food and clothes take on the resonant importance they often have in reality (certainly to me!)
An exception to this is perhaps Sammar's faith, which she thinks about and sometimes explains feelingly, making this book a very sweet, accessible source of knowledge about Islam, always valuable when living in a grotesquely Islamophobic environment like the UK. I find the society described in Khartoum, interconnected, marked by openness to tender friendship and mutual supportiveness, much more attractive than the atomised existence of Aberdeen Sammar describes, or that I myself inhabit most of the time.
'Loneliness is Europe's malaria,' Rae said; 'no one can really be immune.'
The shining thread of faith that draws Sammar, (who sometimes behaves badly I thought, in a way that reflects a history of trauma) and guides her through her experiences to the wisdom and self-knowledge she gains, may well be the same light I feel in Aboulela's graceful language.
Which itself was a delight! Thoughts, facts, explanations, shaped into such light, pure poetry. I could open it at any page and find rhythms and sparkle, water meeting the sun. Mundane detail, dialogue convincingly banal, arranged with an artful simplicity that turns me back into life newly sensitised to its holiness, although I am an unbeliever or at best/worst a kind of pagan constantly finding pieces of paradise in life.
From the perspective of Sammar, working as a translator of Arabic for a university professor, emotional landscapes of grief, loneliness, faith, love and belonging are mapped out between the people and places that shape them: Aberdeen where she works with Rae and Yasmin, Khartoum and her family there, as well as her absent husband. Sammar's occasional ability to slip into a vision of Khartoum in a state of daydream drew me in deeper, intrusions of colour and warmth that evoke both the exotic other place (for me) and Sammar's longing for the place she feels most at home.
This book felt to me like a relation of The Incomers, in the clarity and warmth of its mood as well as its theme.
I loved the focus on the emotional, the personal in the deepest sense, where feeling is not some kind of distorting medium that unfortunately refracts the truth, but the source of truth, the first way of knowing, the means of crossing the leaky borders of the individual person with the rest of the world. When Yasmin explains why Rae could not become a Muslim, not only does the reason seem absurd to Sammar, but the whole rationalist epistemology on which Scottish (and by extension all other 'Western') universities and the disciplines (a revealing word, that) they deal in is suddenly exposed as suspect, even bizarre. Yet, the novel rarely describes emotions directly, rather demonstrates them through actions, paints them with physical descriptions, making use of the weather and minutiae of everyday life; food and clothes take on the resonant importance they often have in reality (certainly to me!)
An exception to this is perhaps Sammar's faith, which she thinks about and sometimes explains feelingly, making this book a very sweet, accessible source of knowledge about Islam, always valuable when living in a grotesquely Islamophobic environment like the UK. I find the society described in Khartoum, interconnected, marked by openness to tender friendship and mutual supportiveness, much more attractive than the atomised existence of Aberdeen Sammar describes, or that I myself inhabit most of the time.
'Loneliness is Europe's malaria,' Rae said; 'no one can really be immune.'
The shining thread of faith that draws Sammar, (who sometimes behaves badly I thought, in a way that reflects a history of trauma) and guides her through her experiences to the wisdom and self-knowledge she gains, may well be the same light I feel in Aboulela's graceful language.
February 19, 2020
Every year I notice some theme sneak into my reading. This year, it's love. I'd rather focus on love to help me forget the hate in the world. I read somewhere that Melinda Gates chooses a word each year for her resolution of sorts, so there it is, my reading resolution. The love story drew me to this novel but the 'mood' kept me enthralled. This is Leila Aboulela's first novel and atmospherically, it is distinct.
With this New York Times Notable Book, I traversed Aberdeen, Scotland and Khartoum, Sudan with a woman grieving the loss of her husband. With admirable restraint and lucidity, the third-person narrative becomes so close that her vulnerability is laid bare. A Sudanese mother who cannot hold her child, cannot wake up or walk up the stairs without effort, cannot return to her homeland. She is depressed, angry, helpless, broken. What sustains her is her work as an Arabic translator at a university. She works for an Islamic scholar who listens to her, asks for her opinions, makes her feel visible again in a world where she feels isolated, a woman of a different culture and religion. She starts to look forward to her days at the university, looks forward to the end of the day when the professor emerges from the lecture hall and they can talk about works needing translation, talk about religion like scholars. A mesh of faith and love, this novel is an experimentation of love at the intersection of culture and religion, a notable journey across continents.
She thought that it was not true what people said, that time passed quickly when you were happy and passed slowly when you were sad. For on her darkest days after Tarig died, grief had burned away time, devoured the hours effortlessly, the days in chunk after chunk. Now every day stretched long and when Rae spoke to her a few words, when they only saw each other for a few minutes, these minutes expanded and these words multiplied and filled up time with what she wanted to take with her, what she did not want to leave behind.
With this New York Times Notable Book, I traversed Aberdeen, Scotland and Khartoum, Sudan with a woman grieving the loss of her husband. With admirable restraint and lucidity, the third-person narrative becomes so close that her vulnerability is laid bare. A Sudanese mother who cannot hold her child, cannot wake up or walk up the stairs without effort, cannot return to her homeland. She is depressed, angry, helpless, broken. What sustains her is her work as an Arabic translator at a university. She works for an Islamic scholar who listens to her, asks for her opinions, makes her feel visible again in a world where she feels isolated, a woman of a different culture and religion. She starts to look forward to her days at the university, looks forward to the end of the day when the professor emerges from the lecture hall and they can talk about works needing translation, talk about religion like scholars. A mesh of faith and love, this novel is an experimentation of love at the intersection of culture and religion, a notable journey across continents.
February 27, 2020
Sammar, a young Muslim woman from Khartoum, has been overwhelmed with grief since her husband's death. She works as an Arabic translator at a university in Aberdeen, Scotland while her son stays with her aunt in Khartoum. Sammar and Rae, a kind secular Middle Eastern Studies professor, form a close friendship which deepens into love. Sammar has a very strong faith that defines her as a person. But Rae comes from a different religious and cultural background.
Author Leila Aboulela writes using spare but beautiful language. Aboulela has lived in both Khartoum and Aberdeen, and gives wonderful descriptions of the contrasting locations. The book starts in cold, gray Scotland in winter, reflecting the depression that Sammar is feeling. She visits her family in Sudan later in the story. She feels the comfort and warmth of being with her family as she's also enjoying the heat and earthy colors of Khartoum. She does have to cope with the water shortages and power blackouts in Khartoum, but feels that she acts more like her true self there. She misses Rae, but doesn't know if they can resolve their differences. The Translator is a lovely little gem about faith, traditions, love, and two very different cultures.
Author Leila Aboulela writes using spare but beautiful language. Aboulela has lived in both Khartoum and Aberdeen, and gives wonderful descriptions of the contrasting locations. The book starts in cold, gray Scotland in winter, reflecting the depression that Sammar is feeling. She visits her family in Sudan later in the story. She feels the comfort and warmth of being with her family as she's also enjoying the heat and earthy colors of Khartoum. She does have to cope with the water shortages and power blackouts in Khartoum, but feels that she acts more like her true self there. She misses Rae, but doesn't know if they can resolve their differences. The Translator is a lovely little gem about faith, traditions, love, and two very different cultures.
December 14, 2008
This is undoubtedly one of the best books I've had the opportunity to read. The characters make your heart soar, the dialogues, images, themes are all profoundly moving. I have not had such an emotional response to a piece of fiction in a long time. I learned many things from this book: I remembered prayer, I thought of loss, and love and the pervasive nature of love that allows you to conquer fear and stigma. I learned about the beauty of the human spirit to persevere, to hold onto love despite shifts in space, and time. I felt this was an intensely spiritual book as well, because the the main character Sammar possessed a quiet piety, respect, and compassion. It was deeply moving for me when she realized her mistake of placing herself first in this matter of love, as if she could decide the contents of another's heart, as if she could demand their love. This book made me think about how friendship and love are so difficult to distinguish, how easily they come in phone calls, conversations, and exchanges.
When I finished this book on my NJ Transit ride to work, I wanted to immediately buy millions of copies of this book to distribute to my fellow passengers. I wanted so much to share this story with everyone I knew. If you are a believer on any level--of hope, change, love, Islam--I think this is a significant piece for you to read.
When I finished this book on my NJ Transit ride to work, I wanted to immediately buy millions of copies of this book to distribute to my fellow passengers. I wanted so much to share this story with everyone I knew. If you are a believer on any level--of hope, change, love, Islam--I think this is a significant piece for you to read.
October 28, 2017
I'M RE-WRITING MY REVIEW .
If you read the first review , then excuse my naivety.
This book has been assigned for me at Uni , Although I did not have big expectations, it sure caught me off guard.
The whole time I was reading this , I was having a continual feeling of déjà vu as if I've read or seen this before , not the same story obviously but the same atmosphere / style .
The story of a northern african making her way through Schotland , a western society , reminded me of Chimamanda Adiche's Americanah , Sammar's personnality remided me of Janie from Zora Hurtson'ts Her eyes were watching God and finally , the eastern/western approach and the style of writing brought Elif Shafak's novels to my mind.
Aside from all of that, after spending a whole day analysing the book in my head , I came to the realisation that leila portrayed faith and religion in a cheesy & corny way .
ABSOLUTELY HATED the fact that religion was always connectedwith marriage and even though the topics discussed are somehow important , they always end up revolving around the idea of marriage . WHICH PISSED ME OFF.
The ending was so frustrating & so predictible.
The simplicity of the language and Leila's almost poetic way of telling this story are what made it special .
Highly recommend it , even though Sammar got on my nerves most of the time with her selfishness & dullness.
If you read the first review , then excuse my naivety.
This book has been assigned for me at Uni , Although I did not have big expectations, it sure caught me off guard.
The whole time I was reading this , I was having a continual feeling of déjà vu as if I've read or seen this before , not the same story obviously but the same atmosphere / style .
The story of a northern african making her way through Schotland , a western society , reminded me of Chimamanda Adiche's Americanah , Sammar's personnality remided me of Janie from Zora Hurtson'ts Her eyes were watching God and finally , the eastern/western approach and the style of writing brought Elif Shafak's novels to my mind.
Aside from all of that, after spending a whole day analysing the book in my head , I came to the realisation that leila portrayed faith and religion in a cheesy & corny way .
ABSOLUTELY HATED the fact that religion was always connectedwith marriage and even though the topics discussed are somehow important , they always end up revolving around the idea of marriage . WHICH PISSED ME OFF.
The ending was so frustrating & so predictible.
The simplicity of the language and Leila's almost poetic way of telling this story are what made it special .
Highly recommend it , even though Sammar got on my nerves most of the time with her selfishness & dullness.
July 28, 2020
It’s probably near impossible in this day and age to write a disparaging review of a book featuring a Muslim character and not come across as Islamophobic. (It’s ever so much easier to just reductively scream phobia this or racist that instead of actually comprehending the context, following the empirical evidence trail, thinking for yourself, etc.) But hey, I’m gonna give it a whirl. So first…some background. Actual facts from reputable sources. Sudan has recently made the news for ever so progressively (and yes, that is sarcasm) finally abolishing the apostasy law (we’ll get back to this, this is important), public flogging and alcohol ban for non Muslims, Oh, also female genital mutilation is now punishable by law, but ever so gently so. Only up to three years. Not like, you know, homosexuality, which used to be a death sentence, but now only (only) a life sentence. These hugely progressive (there it is again, sarcasm) steps were taken to reflect the more progressive new government, since Sudan has just (2019) emerged from a 30 year authoritarian military dictatorship. During this time Sudan has steadily been one of the most epic humanrights violators in the world. Statistically. Extremely limited to nonexistent freedom of press, FGM (it’s so frightening, it should be repeated) and all of those freshly abolished punishments too. Why such tough laws, you might ask? Well, that’s because the country is a Muslim country and is governed by the strict Muslim Sharia law. Which is to say (and the book does, quotably so) that’s what they consider justice. To each their own and all that, sure, but it’s important to understand the politics and religion of Sudan in order to understand this book. Mind you, both the author of this book and the protagonist are from the higher echelons of society, meaning European education and most likely spared things like FGM (which at some time was estimated to be performed on 88% of all females…think about it, but still…certain things must be fairly universal. And yet, although the book is set during the 30 year dictatorship time, life in Khartoum seem perfectly ok as described in the book, with power cuts being the major complaint. The horrific lack of literacy is barely grazed upon. So anyway, the protagonist, Sammar, is a young or youngish woman who was born in England, but spent most of her life in Sudan. Following the death of her husband she comes to works in Aberdeen as a translator for a secular gruff Scottish Middle Eastern and Islam scholar and sets out to covert him to her faith in order to marry him. The actual romance itself is so subtle as to be barely perceptible, more like a meeting of minds, two lonely people, etc. and chaste as can be, of course. There’s a lot of discussion of how Sammar’s faith is the best in the world and the only true one and why wouldn’t Rae (the scholar) convert to it. At any rate, he doesn’t even have to mean it, there’s a procedure where he just has to say some special words (the lip service conversion) and it’s done. But Rae as an academic and a man of integrity can’t do that. So the two talk around it until Sammar more or less aggressively proposes to him and when he goes (understandably) what? no. get away. she does. All the way back to Khartoum. Where, apparently, she belongs. Although nothing in the book explains why she loves it there so much. She can only get a crap sporadic job teaching English, she has to live with her mother in law who blames her for her son’s death (see, Sammar had the audacity to make her husband get a car and he ended up dying in a car crash, so…) and wants nothing more than for Sammar to get back to Scotland and continue to send money back. She also has a brother who can’t wait to find a work abroad situation. She has no property, no prospects, nothing back in Sudan. In fact, right after she became a widow she actually considered becoming a third wife to an elderly family friend. Fun. No surprise she’s so desperately after Rae. Actually Sammar has a kid in Khartoum, but shows no maternal instincts whatsoever. She had no qualms abandoning a kid for years while she was in Scotland, she never seems to especially miss him. So anyway, the appeal is never properly explained. It’s just one of those things. Must be the weather, Scotland isn’t warm enough of sunny enough for her and she misses all the sun and all the dust of Sudan. Ok. Also, Sammar is a devoted Muslim and that appeal is never really explained either, although she does seem to say and think things along the lines of how nice it is to have such limited circumscribed choices or more like to have so many choices taken out of her control. And so yeah, the thing is…this not especially likeable protagonist is never explained, not in her choices, not in her preferences, and she is the main feature of a slow, torpidly slow narrative of a book where almost nothing takes place. The only thing this book works as is as a sort of conversion manual, because guess what? (Don’t read on if you haven’t read the book and want to, the ending is about to be discussed). Ok? OK. So yeah, after all that Rae actually converts, like all the way for real converts and comes to Sudan to find Sammar. Because apparently he was that desperate to try marriage for the third time. I suppose it’s the classic fairy tale ending. And presumably they went on to live happily in Aberdeen after all, because in the end of the day it is a first world progressive liberal safe place to live. And I’m basing this educated guess on the fact that Sammar’s life echoes the author’s life in many ways and the author does live in Aberdeen. So anyway, let’s sum this up, a lethargic narrative about two not especially likeable or engaging people that’s meant to be romantic but comes across as inexplicable, furnished with an unrealistic glass slipper ending. This is the book that’s somehow got all this attention and award nominations? Why? Is it really just because it’s a sort of hot button subject? Or exotic? Because quality wise it isn’t really there. It’s very strongly agenda driven, but that’s about it. And no one notices the irony (or is it irony) of the fact that while Rae is repeatedly encouraged and subsequently rewarded (with the dubious prize of Sammar) for his conversion, the opposite of that...Sammar converting from Islam for Rae would be considered apostasy (yes, see, we cycled back to that) and apostasy's just until very recently punishable by death in Sudan. Thoughts? For me…I read to learn, to travel, to live in a larger world. I want to understand different places, religions, perspectives, etc. and I don’t think this book did especially well in educating on any of those accounts. The cultural divide remained in place at all times. It was frustrating slog of a read, not especially educational and not even remotely entertaining. Decently written in a sort of dreamy language, heavily internalized, discourse reliant, but really just didn’t work for me. At all. So yeah…our library got a bunch of author’s work in their new mission to become as inclusive as possible, but this was definitely a one and done. Was this review objective and balanced (considering how subjective reviewing is by nature)? You tell me. I did try.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 21, 2018
Girl meets boy, girl falls in love with boy but cannot be with him because their religions are different. Girl scolds boy and runs away, far, far away and prays boy will convert so they can be together. Boy converts and travels the many miles to find girl, and they marry and live happily ever after.
Might have been written by the brothers Grimm in the 18/19th C had they lived a few thousand miles away.
In addition the "feminist" protagonist, who I admit might be feminist given her circumstances, blames the man entirely for the impediments in the relationship, acts impulsively like a teenager when he is unwilling to make a considerable sacrifice for her, but then yields and lowers her head before her mother-in-law.
Other than that the first part is really good, the alienation, the rich characterisation of Rae, and the equally rich and romantic descriptions of the environments (another nod the Romantic tradition). It's a pity that from the ending of part one it becomes such a household fable.
Might have been written by the brothers Grimm in the 18/19th C had they lived a few thousand miles away.
In addition the "feminist" protagonist, who I admit might be feminist given her circumstances, blames the man entirely for the impediments in the relationship, acts impulsively like a teenager when he is unwilling to make a considerable sacrifice for her, but then yields and lowers her head before her mother-in-law.
Other than that the first part is really good, the alienation, the rich characterisation of Rae, and the equally rich and romantic descriptions of the environments (another nod the Romantic tradition). It's a pity that from the ending of part one it becomes such a household fable.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 16, 2018
When the viewpoint seems so rare, it makes you realize just how rare it is to have a muslim woman tell her own story and express her feelings in fiction. But it's not to be read just for it's particular point of view - it is also a beautiful story of being and loving and being alien in your own culture as well as the one you're living in. The contrasts and the sameness, the love and loss that goes with human migration.
You should definitely read Aboulela, and not just for the diversity!
You should definitely read Aboulela, and not just for the diversity!
August 8, 2020
The Translator by Leila Aboulela is the love story of Sammar, a young Sudanese widow, and a Scottish professor.
The novel opens a few years after the death of Sammar’s husband, a student at an Aberdeen university. After taking his body back to Khartoum for burial and leaving their young son with her mother-in-law, Sammar has returned to Aberdeen. She supports herself by working as an Arabic translator at the University. She grieves for her husband, is isolated and lonely. She gradually emerges from her shell and finds herself attracted to Rae, a Scottish professor specializing in Islam. The two work closely together, their friendship developing into love. The situation is complicated since Sammar is a devout Muslim and will not marry outside her faith. Torn between the dictates of her faith and her love for Rae, Sammar decides to sacrifice her chance for love. She returns to Khartoum, reconciled to her fate as a lonely widow. It is only after she gives up hope of ever finding love that her prayers are answered, her patience rewarded.
Sammar is a complex character, not without her faults. She exhibits little remorse for leaving her son with his grandmother. She seldom thinks of him, treating him as a nuisance she has happily discarded. She lashes out at Rae when he rejects her conditional proposal of marriage. Her self-awareness comes to fruition when she later recognizes the selfishness of her motives and prays for forgiveness. Some of the most moving passages are those that describe the peace and solace she derives when reciting the Qur’an, fasting during the month of Ramadan, and bowing down in prayer. Ultimately, she shows a great deal of courage in relinquishing her job and returning to an uncertain future in Khartoum all because she does not want to deviate from her faith. It is refreshing to see a female character who remains true to herself and her beliefs, one who refuses to sacrifice her identity for love and marriage.
Sammar’s fluctuating feelings are conveyed with delicacy, alternating seamlessly between her memories of the past and her current situation. She illustrates the immigrant experience of being caught between two worlds, epitomized in the contrast between the grey, cold, and lonely landscape of Aberdeen with the color, warmth, vitality, and community of the Khartoum she remembers.
Aboulela’s style is elegant and understated. Her language is rhythmic and poetic; her words subtle and restrained. This is a quiet, tender love story minus the hoopla and fuss. It is the story of two people from two very different cultures and lifestyles who gradually draw closer together to become one.
A beautiful story told in language that flows with grace, lucidity, and elegance.
Highly recommended.
My book reviews are also available at www.tamaraaghajaffar.com
The novel opens a few years after the death of Sammar’s husband, a student at an Aberdeen university. After taking his body back to Khartoum for burial and leaving their young son with her mother-in-law, Sammar has returned to Aberdeen. She supports herself by working as an Arabic translator at the University. She grieves for her husband, is isolated and lonely. She gradually emerges from her shell and finds herself attracted to Rae, a Scottish professor specializing in Islam. The two work closely together, their friendship developing into love. The situation is complicated since Sammar is a devout Muslim and will not marry outside her faith. Torn between the dictates of her faith and her love for Rae, Sammar decides to sacrifice her chance for love. She returns to Khartoum, reconciled to her fate as a lonely widow. It is only after she gives up hope of ever finding love that her prayers are answered, her patience rewarded.
Sammar is a complex character, not without her faults. She exhibits little remorse for leaving her son with his grandmother. She seldom thinks of him, treating him as a nuisance she has happily discarded. She lashes out at Rae when he rejects her conditional proposal of marriage. Her self-awareness comes to fruition when she later recognizes the selfishness of her motives and prays for forgiveness. Some of the most moving passages are those that describe the peace and solace she derives when reciting the Qur’an, fasting during the month of Ramadan, and bowing down in prayer. Ultimately, she shows a great deal of courage in relinquishing her job and returning to an uncertain future in Khartoum all because she does not want to deviate from her faith. It is refreshing to see a female character who remains true to herself and her beliefs, one who refuses to sacrifice her identity for love and marriage.
Sammar’s fluctuating feelings are conveyed with delicacy, alternating seamlessly between her memories of the past and her current situation. She illustrates the immigrant experience of being caught between two worlds, epitomized in the contrast between the grey, cold, and lonely landscape of Aberdeen with the color, warmth, vitality, and community of the Khartoum she remembers.
Aboulela’s style is elegant and understated. Her language is rhythmic and poetic; her words subtle and restrained. This is a quiet, tender love story minus the hoopla and fuss. It is the story of two people from two very different cultures and lifestyles who gradually draw closer together to become one.
A beautiful story told in language that flows with grace, lucidity, and elegance.
Highly recommended.
My book reviews are also available at www.tamaraaghajaffar.com
January 2, 2024
#ReadAroundTheWorld. #Sudan
This is an award-winning novel by Sudanese author Leila Aboulela. It is set in Aberdeen, a slow-burn gentle romance between Sudanese widow Sammar, and university professor Rae, who she works as a translator for. Religion is a major obstacle for them. I enjoyed the romance and the difficulty Sammar found in adapting to the grey and drab life in Scotland. It did however at times feel more like a religious tract promoting Islam than a novel. 3.5 stars
This is an award-winning novel by Sudanese author Leila Aboulela. It is set in Aberdeen, a slow-burn gentle romance between Sudanese widow Sammar, and university professor Rae, who she works as a translator for. Religion is a major obstacle for them. I enjoyed the romance and the difficulty Sammar found in adapting to the grey and drab life in Scotland. It did however at times feel more like a religious tract promoting Islam than a novel. 3.5 stars
June 2, 2011
إذا كانت رواية (موسم الهجرة ...) للراحل العظيم الطيب صالح تمثل حيرة الجنوب أمام الشمال الأوروبي, أو الشرق
أمام الغرب, والهزة العنيفة التي تولدت من هكذا لقاء, فإنّ رواية الأستاذة ليلى على النقيض من ذلك تماما.
إنها قصة امراة تحافظ على هويتها وتحمل ذاتها المسلمة العربية صامدة أمام الاكتساح الغربي.
إنها رواية آلام الغربة والبعد عن الوطن, آلام صراع الهوية والدفاع عنها, وقصة ألم المرأة الشرقية التي تنبت في
أوطانها وتلاحقها أينما حلت.
رواية رائعة, لكاتبة أروع
أمام الغرب, والهزة العنيفة التي تولدت من هكذا لقاء, فإنّ رواية الأستاذة ليلى على النقيض من ذلك تماما.
إنها قصة امراة تحافظ على هويتها وتحمل ذاتها المسلمة العربية صامدة أمام الاكتساح الغربي.
إنها رواية آلام الغربة والبعد عن الوطن, آلام صراع الهوية والدفاع عنها, وقصة ألم المرأة الشرقية التي تنبت في
أوطانها وتلاحقها أينما حلت.
رواية رائعة, لكاتبة أروع
February 13, 2025
سمر یک زن جوان مسلمان سودانی که همسرش طارق را به تازگی در یک تصادف رانندگی از دست داده و در آبردین اسکاتلند زندگی میکند. پسرش امیر را در خارطوم نزد خانواده همسرش رها کرده و اصلا توانایی جمع و جور کردن زندگیاش را ندارد. بهنظر من سمر یک زن بشدت ضعیف و غیر منطقی است!!!
او بهعنوان یک مترجم در دانشگاهی در اسکاتلند مشغول بهکار است. در دانشگاه با شخصی به نام رای که اسلامشناس است و مطالعات زیادی در زمینه خاورمیانه و بنیادگرایی و ... داشته است آشنا میشود...
من نسخه فارسی کتاب از انتشارات امیرکبیر را با ترجمه سما نیسی خواندم که سرشار از ایرادات ویراستاری بود. 😮💨
او بهعنوان یک مترجم در دانشگاهی در اسکاتلند مشغول بهکار است. در دانشگاه با شخصی به نام رای که اسلامشناس است و مطالعات زیادی در زمینه خاورمیانه و بنیادگرایی و ... داشته است آشنا میشود...
من نسخه فارسی کتاب از انتشارات امیرکبیر را با ترجمه سما نیسی خواندم که سرشار از ایرادات ویراستاری بود. 😮💨
September 10, 2007
The story of (oddly enough) a translator:) This is about a Sudanese widow who has embraced her Islamic religion. She is living in Scotland when she start working as an Arabic translator for an Islamic scholar who is not a believer. After they fall in love she must decide what is stronger, her love or her faith. What this novel explores with great finesse is the true nature of faith. What it means to be faithful and what it means to give your life over to that. The language in this novel is a joy to read and the story is lovely. Highly enjoyable and different look at the Islamic faith.
December 13, 2022
What was I expecting? I was expecting the story from the Goodreads description. Well, I did get that. What I was not expecting was all of the religion. It happens to be Islamic religion, but I wouldn't want that much about Christian beliefs nor Jewish nor Buddhist or any other religion. Of course Sammar is Muslim - I knew that going in. I did not realize it is the driving force of her life. Fundamentalists of all stripes are like that. Good for them. I'm just not interested in reading about it.
That said, Sammar's story of falling in love with the Scottish professor was good enough to keep me reading. For that reason only, I'll put 3-stars on this, but obvously with huge reservations.
That said, Sammar's story of falling in love with the Scottish professor was good enough to keep me reading. For that reason only, I'll put 3-stars on this, but obvously with huge reservations.
July 16, 2020
Setelah sempat membaca hanya beberapa lembar saja dan kemudian ditinggalkan. Kemudian beberapa waktu lamanya terhenti, aku mulai membaca buku ini dari awal lagi.
Aku suka dengan cara Aboulela memilih kalimat-kalimat dalam buku ini. Benar-benar membawa emosi dengan cara yang begitu lembut dan menyentuh. Kesedihan, kekosongan dan dilema yang dialami sang tokoh memang terasa.
Ini tentang Sammar, perempuan Sudan yang lahir di Inggris kemudian kembali ke Sudan bersama orangtuanya. Setelah dewasa dan menikah dengan sepupunya Tarig, Sammar pindah ke Skotlandia bersama suaminya yang melanjutkan studi disana. Sammar bukan hanya mencintai Tarig tapi juga mencintai ibunda Tarig, bibinya dengan sepenuh hati dan begitu pula bibinya menyayangi keponakannya seperti anak sendiri. Sayang yang kemudian berubah menjadi benci dan dendam.
Semua hilang secara tiba-tiba saat Tarig tewas pada kecelakaan mobil yang dialaminya. Putra satu-satunya direnggut sang maut, ibu Tarig harus menyalahkan siapa atas kehilangan ini?
Saat pertama diawal buku ini, aku tidak menyukai Sammar karena tega berpisah dengan anaknya Amir yang tinggal di Sudan bersama neneknya. Setelah membaca kelanjutan ceritanya dapat memahami situasinya.
Sammar kemudian bekerja sebagai penerjemah bahasa Arab. Pekerjaan yang mempertemukannya dengan Rae, seorang dosen dan peneliti tentang Islam. Hubungan pertemanan yang berkembang menjadi asmara. Sammar menghadapi dilema antara keyakinannya menjadi seorang muslim yang taat dan perasaan cintanya pada lelaki yang bukan muslim. Keputusan yang harus diambil setelah mulai mendapat sedikit cahaya untuk kembali menjalani hidup setelah kematian Tarig.
Aku menandai paragraf-paragraf menarik buku ini. Antara lain saat Sammar menerjemahkan hadist yang dikutip pada sebuah tesis. Sammar belajar banyak dari hadist yang diterjemahkannya, antara lain sebuah hadist yang berbunyi "Jihad terbaik adalah ketika seseorang mengucapkan kebenaran didepan seorang penguasa yang lalim".
I really love this book.
Aku suka dengan cara Aboulela memilih kalimat-kalimat dalam buku ini. Benar-benar membawa emosi dengan cara yang begitu lembut dan menyentuh. Kesedihan, kekosongan dan dilema yang dialami sang tokoh memang terasa.
Ini tentang Sammar, perempuan Sudan yang lahir di Inggris kemudian kembali ke Sudan bersama orangtuanya. Setelah dewasa dan menikah dengan sepupunya Tarig, Sammar pindah ke Skotlandia bersama suaminya yang melanjutkan studi disana. Sammar bukan hanya mencintai Tarig tapi juga mencintai ibunda Tarig, bibinya dengan sepenuh hati dan begitu pula bibinya menyayangi keponakannya seperti anak sendiri. Sayang yang kemudian berubah menjadi benci dan dendam.
Semua hilang secara tiba-tiba saat Tarig tewas pada kecelakaan mobil yang dialaminya. Putra satu-satunya direnggut sang maut, ibu Tarig harus menyalahkan siapa atas kehilangan ini?
Saat pertama diawal buku ini, aku tidak menyukai Sammar karena tega berpisah dengan anaknya Amir yang tinggal di Sudan bersama neneknya. Setelah membaca kelanjutan ceritanya dapat memahami situasinya.
Sammar kemudian bekerja sebagai penerjemah bahasa Arab. Pekerjaan yang mempertemukannya dengan Rae, seorang dosen dan peneliti tentang Islam. Hubungan pertemanan yang berkembang menjadi asmara. Sammar menghadapi dilema antara keyakinannya menjadi seorang muslim yang taat dan perasaan cintanya pada lelaki yang bukan muslim. Keputusan yang harus diambil setelah mulai mendapat sedikit cahaya untuk kembali menjalani hidup setelah kematian Tarig.
Aku menandai paragraf-paragraf menarik buku ini. Antara lain saat Sammar menerjemahkan hadist yang dikutip pada sebuah tesis. Sammar belajar banyak dari hadist yang diterjemahkannya, antara lain sebuah hadist yang berbunyi "Jihad terbaik adalah ketika seseorang mengucapkan kebenaran didepan seorang penguasa yang lalim".
I really love this book.
April 10, 2009
I was both absorbed by and ambivalent about this book - which is an oddity, because I wouldn't have thought it was possible to be both at once. But here I am - absorbed and ambivalent - having wanted very much to see where the story would go, and yet not really finding Aboulela's writing particularly compelling.
The Translator focuses on the life of Summar, a young, Sudanese widow in Aberdeen, who translates Arabic texts for a department at the local university. There she meets Rae, an Islamic scholar, and they fall in love - which is, of course, only the beginning of everything.
It sounds like a trite premise, but there's nothing trite about the telling - the obstacles Summar, in particular, faces as she tries to understand this new relationship are particular and moving (the power her first husband's mother has over her, the longing for home, a son in another country, her heartfelt faith). Yet the prose here is so stilted, so blockish and precise that much of what I wanted to get from Summar's story never came - no particularly deep sense of empathy or understanding, no real honest sense of her emotional landscape. I began to wonder, in the end, if the prose didn't match Summar's character - but that seems unfair, since when Summar is disconnected and displaced, she's sad and grieving, not acting on any particular character impulse. Does the prose match the clumsiness of English to someone who's used to speaking the grace of Arabic? I'm not sure.
I never think the word 'interesting' really conveys very much, but this book was, definitely, interesting. I'm glad I read it, and I feel like I briefly saw the world through very different eyes - but I wasn't captivated in the way I have been with other literature.
The Translator focuses on the life of Summar, a young, Sudanese widow in Aberdeen, who translates Arabic texts for a department at the local university. There she meets Rae, an Islamic scholar, and they fall in love - which is, of course, only the beginning of everything.
It sounds like a trite premise, but there's nothing trite about the telling - the obstacles Summar, in particular, faces as she tries to understand this new relationship are particular and moving (the power her first husband's mother has over her, the longing for home, a son in another country, her heartfelt faith). Yet the prose here is so stilted, so blockish and precise that much of what I wanted to get from Summar's story never came - no particularly deep sense of empathy or understanding, no real honest sense of her emotional landscape. I began to wonder, in the end, if the prose didn't match Summar's character - but that seems unfair, since when Summar is disconnected and displaced, she's sad and grieving, not acting on any particular character impulse. Does the prose match the clumsiness of English to someone who's used to speaking the grace of Arabic? I'm not sure.
I never think the word 'interesting' really conveys very much, but this book was, definitely, interesting. I'm glad I read it, and I feel like I briefly saw the world through very different eyes - but I wasn't captivated in the way I have been with other literature.
December 2, 2024
3.5
The plot of the novel is a lovestory between Sammar, a widowed Muslim woman of Sudanese origin working as a translator in Aberdeen and Rae Isles, an agnostic scholar of Islam and middle-east. The novel is narrated in two parts, the first being in Aberdee and the second in Sudan. Having lost her husband in an accident four years ago and leaving her son behind in Khartoum, Sudan, Sammar is still entangled in the web of trauma and grief. For Sammar, faith is the root of her existence. The undimishable light and the cause worthy of all her struggles. As she falls in love with a staunchly secular Rae in the hope of a new life, a second chance, the very faith becomes the cause of conflict.
Apart from grief and faith, the novel shows a nuanced representation of identity. Interestingly, the title assumes a second role here. If you understand translation as the constant movement between languages, a migration that generate meaning in an unfamiliar language world, it can be said that Sammar, as a Muslim, Sudanese migrant woman in the Islamophobic Western society lives in constant translation. In the world of othering she lives, there is a constant attempt in Sammar's everyday life to make sense of her culture, clothing and faith.
Very often we come across characters who evoke complex, or rather ambivalent feelings for them. Characters who refuse to be catalogued by the reader. For me, Sammar is one. At times I feel appalled at her callousness. Later, it turns to empathy towards her desperation and hopefulness. Nevertheless, the novel is a powerful narrative depicting the vulnerabilities of human beings written in a simple, often dream-like language.
The plot of the novel is a lovestory between Sammar, a widowed Muslim woman of Sudanese origin working as a translator in Aberdeen and Rae Isles, an agnostic scholar of Islam and middle-east. The novel is narrated in two parts, the first being in Aberdee and the second in Sudan. Having lost her husband in an accident four years ago and leaving her son behind in Khartoum, Sudan, Sammar is still entangled in the web of trauma and grief. For Sammar, faith is the root of her existence. The undimishable light and the cause worthy of all her struggles. As she falls in love with a staunchly secular Rae in the hope of a new life, a second chance, the very faith becomes the cause of conflict.
Apart from grief and faith, the novel shows a nuanced representation of identity. Interestingly, the title assumes a second role here. If you understand translation as the constant movement between languages, a migration that generate meaning in an unfamiliar language world, it can be said that Sammar, as a Muslim, Sudanese migrant woman in the Islamophobic Western society lives in constant translation. In the world of othering she lives, there is a constant attempt in Sammar's everyday life to make sense of her culture, clothing and faith.
Very often we come across characters who evoke complex, or rather ambivalent feelings for them. Characters who refuse to be catalogued by the reader. For me, Sammar is one. At times I feel appalled at her callousness. Later, it turns to empathy towards her desperation and hopefulness. Nevertheless, the novel is a powerful narrative depicting the vulnerabilities of human beings written in a simple, often dream-like language.
August 6, 2012
The Translator is about Sammar, a Muslim widow, who moves to Scotland with her husband before he dies in a car accident. Its a moving and accurate tale about a demographic that is inexplicable to most Westerners: the Muslim woman. The tale starts with Sammar translating a document sent by a terrorist group. She notes how rife with spelling mistakes it is, how pathetic and instantly creates a barrier between Muslims like her, and uneducated extremists like them, fighting against a force they don't even understand, while she stands firm in her beliefs in a country that has no patience for them. But most Westerners don't see the difference, we equate the two because Sammar's belief is inexplicable to us. But the book slowly changes that, we begin to understand what she is feeling because of Aboulela's poetry. We feel the grey Scottish fog press all around us, we feel the grey saturation, the cold, the isolation and loneliness inherent in Western society, and finally we feel the respite she gets from praying five times a day, and from studying the Quran.
There are faults in every culture, though we can seldom see the ones in ours. But through Sammar's eyes we begin to see: our impatience, detachment, consumerism and lack of family. Sammar's name is the word for evening conversations or night talk where the whole family would gather and spend time together watching the sky before sleeping. This concept has all but disappeared in our busy lives where we don't even make time to have dinner together. But as Sammar is surprised to discover, because of the pollution and increase of Western ideas of consumerism, it is disappearing from the East as well. Sammar's perspective gives us pause to consider weather our ideas are really the right ones.
Her love story with Rae gives us a chance to connect to her. Her desire to be loved, her fear of rejection, the harsh words that pour out of her when she feels rejected, and finally the humbling realization of her selfishness. Her struggle to achieve happiness while staying true to her beliefs shows the depth of her belief in a way that is tangible to our secular society.
There are faults in every culture, though we can seldom see the ones in ours. But through Sammar's eyes we begin to see: our impatience, detachment, consumerism and lack of family. Sammar's name is the word for evening conversations or night talk where the whole family would gather and spend time together watching the sky before sleeping. This concept has all but disappeared in our busy lives where we don't even make time to have dinner together. But as Sammar is surprised to discover, because of the pollution and increase of Western ideas of consumerism, it is disappearing from the East as well. Sammar's perspective gives us pause to consider weather our ideas are really the right ones.
Her love story with Rae gives us a chance to connect to her. Her desire to be loved, her fear of rejection, the harsh words that pour out of her when she feels rejected, and finally the humbling realization of her selfishness. Her struggle to achieve happiness while staying true to her beliefs shows the depth of her belief in a way that is tangible to our secular society.
September 27, 2013
I was expecting a lot from this novel when i bought it! I am now disappointed..2 stars for its beautiful language & the rich scent of Sudan!
I hated the gloomy side of Sammar,i hated her detachment from her son(her own flesh & blood),i hated how she cornered Rae to convert &marry her! LoL
I loved the Sudan part of the story..it was closer to my soul!!
I hated the gloomy side of Sammar,i hated her detachment from her son(her own flesh & blood),i hated how she cornered Rae to convert &marry her! LoL
I loved the Sudan part of the story..it was closer to my soul!!
February 2, 2024
Overall i found this novel very profound and melancholic given that it is mostly a romance. It teeters on edge of coming of age and romance, but those are often heavily intertwined anyway. The main character Sammar was wonderfully written, in a way which displayed a perception of the world that is often not told. Torn between her two lives, home life and family and her new life in western society, she laments on life and her sense of belonging. The book also explores the role of religion and spirituality and poses the influence it has one's ability to build relationships. The prose was very easy to read but also allowed space for poetry. I did find that it was a bit anti-climactic and the plots stays pretty static, and the ending felt a bit too abrupt and i wish she had spent more time leading up to it.
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September 29, 2023Inca de la inceput am simtit ca nu imi place Sammar. O fi un decalaj cultural, insa nu pot empatiza cu o femeie atat de opusa convingerilor mele.
Sammar si-a pierdut sotul cu 4 ani in urma si de 4 ani traieste in umbra acestei morti. Si-a trimis copilul in Sudan, fara nici un regret, spunandu-i: "de ce nu ai murit tu in locul lui?". Aici m-a pierdut definitiv si nu ma mai interesa ce i se intampla, simtind pentru ea doar repulsie. Iar cand, indragostita fiind de seful ei, ii cere sa se converteasca la islam ca sa se poata casatori (dupa ce nici macar nu au avut o relatie amoroasa altfel decat prin convorbiri telefonice), mi-am mai dat ochii inca o data peste cap la aceasta neobrazare si indrazneala pe care nimeni nu are dreptul sa i-o ceara nimanui. Dar hei... religia distruge iubiri de cand lumea si pamantul. Iar finalul... bleah! Preferam sa isi vada de treaba si sa traiasca linistita si uitata in Khartoum.
Sammar si-a pierdut sotul cu 4 ani in urma si de 4 ani traieste in umbra acestei morti. Si-a trimis copilul in Sudan, fara nici un regret, spunandu-i: "de ce nu ai murit tu in locul lui?". Aici m-a pierdut definitiv si nu ma mai interesa ce i se intampla, simtind pentru ea doar repulsie. Iar cand, indragostita fiind de seful ei, ii cere sa se converteasca la islam ca sa se poata casatori (dupa ce nici macar nu au avut o relatie amoroasa altfel decat prin convorbiri telefonice), mi-am mai dat ochii inca o data peste cap la aceasta neobrazare si indrazneala pe care nimeni nu are dreptul sa i-o ceara nimanui. Dar hei... religia distruge iubiri de cand lumea si pamantul. Iar finalul... bleah! Preferam sa isi vada de treaba si sa traiasca linistita si uitata in Khartoum.
April 12, 2023
My university course give me opportunity to read this book, I don't know why so many people rated it below five stars. This is one of best book I've ever came across..
Plot Story
Leila herself tells the story of a widow Sammar. Sammar works as translator for Rae, who's a secular. Soon after their frequent meetings Sammar begins to love Rae and desires to marry him but only thing that stops her of marrying to Rae is religion. Sammar is Muslim and wants Rae to be Muslim so they can marry but Rae enjoys knowledge he has about Islam however, he is never ready to accept Islam. There's no other way to marry him for Sammar. She sticks firmly with religion and sacrifice her desire to marry Sammar for her religion.
Amazing story I must say and obviously I'm going to read other books of Leila Aboulela. I hope her other novels will give me same joy.
Plot Story
Leila herself tells the story of a widow Sammar. Sammar works as translator for Rae, who's a secular. Soon after their frequent meetings Sammar begins to love Rae and desires to marry him but only thing that stops her of marrying to Rae is religion. Sammar is Muslim and wants Rae to be Muslim so they can marry but Rae enjoys knowledge he has about Islam however, he is never ready to accept Islam. There's no other way to marry him for Sammar. She sticks firmly with religion and sacrifice her desire to marry Sammar for her religion.
Amazing story I must say and obviously I'm going to read other books of Leila Aboulela. I hope her other novels will give me same joy.
March 9, 2019
4.5 stars
the only reason i knocked .5 stars off was because something about the ending felt a little rushed. otherwise, this was wonderful - especially the stunning writing.
the only reason i knocked .5 stars off was because something about the ending felt a little rushed. otherwise, this was wonderful - especially the stunning writing.
August 2, 2024
Leila Aboulela is one of my favorite writers and I was slightly shocked I hadn’t read her debut, “The Translator.” I really enjoyed her descriptions of both Aberdeen and Khartoum as well as the relationship between Summar a Muslim and Rae a Scottish Professor.
March 24, 2024
“Now she stood alone under. the high ceiling of the ancient college, began to say silently, All praise belongs to Allah, Lord of all the worlds, the Compassionate, the Merciful... and the certainty of the words brought unexpected tears, something deeper than happiness, all the splinters inside her coming together.”
Slow, simple and yet serene, is how I would describe The Translator. The main themes are surrounding grief, love, loss, patience and faith.
Each theme is beautifully navigated as we see the development of Summar and Rae and their very simple yet beautiful relationship building. A work of longing for love and forgiveness. It explores religion as a strong tie to the creator. It uncovers hidden traumas and invites characters and readers to trespass boundaries of stereotypes and fears to know the other.
Though Summar and Rae’s romance seen like an unlikely one to many, their differences are what brings them together. They are very different people and they navigate grief, faith and love very differently. This the story if one woman’s faith in he God and her desire for love. Whilst also being the story of another man’s growth and vulnerability.
The plot is simple, yet captivating. Aboulela posses this beautiful capability of capturing nuance and complexity through a simple plot. This is a love story of sorts, but not like the cheesy ones. This is a love story deeply rooted in religion and spirituality. We see Summar grappling with some existential questions and Aboulela beautifully demonstrates how Summar comes to terms with these questions, whilst also demonstrating the beauty of Islam.
I’ve tried to keep this review spoiler free because I think this is a beautiful and impactful tale that should be read by anyone looking for a slow and steady, yet deeply affecting story.
Overall, Aboulela has once again won me over with her prose and the representation of a Muslim woman navigating grief and yearning for love.
September 3, 2025
So you’re telling me that a translator who works at the university doesn’t know the meaning of the words “agnostic”, “empathy” and “orientalist”, but can spontaneously produce the following sentence:
“ [] are causes, intermediaries, so [] means the polytheism of intermediaries. For example to believe in Nature, to elevate Nature which is only an intermediary and set it up as a kind of God.”
May Allah protect us from bad literature.. inshallah…
“ [] are causes, intermediaries, so [] means the polytheism of intermediaries. For example to believe in Nature, to elevate Nature which is only an intermediary and set it up as a kind of God.”
May Allah protect us from bad literature.. inshallah…
July 30, 2018
I enjoyed this understated love story between a widowed Sudanese woman, who is a devout Muslim, and a secular Islamic scholar for whom she translates. Half takes place in Aberdeen, Scotland and half in Khartoum, Sudan. Themes of faith, grief, exile, and family (some politics, but not much) explored with quiet and lovely prose.
January 20, 2008
This is a beautiful novel, one which provides a window onto the Islamic faith and hope that there might be understanding between East and West.
July 4, 2018
A gentle reflection on what is often lost in translation between cultures, told through a not-very- interesting love story.
March 11, 2021
I had mixed feelings about this book because there were things that were good and things I didn’t like. First, I have to say that it’s well-written, lyrical at times and mostly positive. The thing that I most admired about the book is that it remained true to Islam, which sounds strange in a way because I have no particular feelings about the subject, but books have a tendency to compromise on religious beliefs in the name of love and this didn’t. Sammar, the Sudanese protagonist of the book, a widow who lives in Aberdeen, is unwavering in her religious beliefs and in Sharia, religious law, which prohibits her not only from marrying a non-believer but even from accompanying another man, and I respected that. For this reason, many Arab critics described this as the first Western novel that was “halal”, which can be thought of as “kosher / acceptable”, but this leads into the first problem I had with the book: it is squeaky clean, not an impure thought on her part as she moons over her boss, hoping he’ll convert and make her plans for him possible. It’s really like an old-fashioned YA novel or one of those 10-cent romances where the most that the heroine hopes for is a hug and a kiss. The entire second part of the novel is Sammar praying that he’ll get in touch with her while she lives a pathetic existence in Khartoum, mostly indifferent to anything else around her. She was widowed in Scotland before the story starts, brought her husband’s body back to Sudan and left their son there with the mother-in-law, who somehow blames her for everything, criticizes each of Sammar’s actions, and generally makes life miserable. (Instead of a wicked stepmother, we have a bitter mother-in-law.) Throughout the book, Sammar is mostly indifferent to her son, as well as her nieces and nephews, only thinking of her crush in Scotland and this got on my nerves after a while. Moreover, since the book could only end in a tragedy which ends her plans or her Scotsman converting and them riding off into the sunset happy ever after, I found myself just wishing they’d get on with it. Lots of unresolved loose ends because, really, the story only focuses on the obsession she has with her Scotsman. This is Judy Blume with a hajib, well-written but the plot paper-thin. (By the way, I like Judy Blume so no offense.) The writing is good, the story okay, but nothing to go out of your way for. (Read accompanied by the Marvelettes “Please Mr. Postman” and Vikki Carr’s “It Must Be Him”; charm and hope, mixed with pathetic, obsessive begging.)
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