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4.03 AVERAGE
4.03 AVERAGE
challenging
emotional
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
A story of love, family, and courage. Nour’s family has been through many trials through the years but her between her father’s stories and her mother’s maps she goes on a journey not only discovering many things about herself but as well as the truly important things.
Because the subject matter of this book deserves attention, I wanted to love it. Unfortunately, I found the execution lacking so I was less than enthralled.
There are two timelines. One begins in 2011. After the death of her father, 12-year-old Nour moves with her mother, a cartographer, and two sisters, Huda and Zahra, from Manhattan to Homs, Syria. When their home is bombed, the family is forced to flee. They become refugees travelling from country to country. To comfort herself, Nour remembers a fantastical tale her father used to tell her; this story, set in the twelfth century, is the second timeline. Sixteen-year-old Rawiya disguises herself as a boy and runs away to become an apprentice for a legendary mapmaker, Al-Idrisi. Travelling with him as he charts trade routes, she encounters mythical beasts and fights in epic battles.
There are many parallels between the two storylines. Fatherless girls disguised as boys travel the same geographical region in the company of a mapmaker. Both encounter many dangers on their journeys, dangers which are sometimes life-threatening. Both girls become heroines of sorts. Sometimes there seems to be too much of an effort to match events in the two stories (the roc’s attack on a ship and the shelling of a ferry) so the plot feels contrived. The intersection of the two narratives at the end also seems forced.
I found Nour to be a somewhat unconvincing narrator. For a pre-teen, she sometimes behaves like a child and at other times speaks and thinks like someone much older, someone much wiser than her years. She knows little Arabic but then seems to understand it? The book is heavy on symbolism - maps, salt, stars, stones - yet Nour understands the meanings? Nour thinks, “I want to make something good out of what was bad, something precious out of something small. Like the raw blue stone Abu Sayeed showed me, ugly and humble in the earth.” Of course the same can be said of Rawiya who shows amazing Rambo-like skill in battles (“She fired six stones, one after another, gashing her attackers’ shins and bruising their bellies until they dropped to the ground), but I am more willing to suspend disbelief when reading a fantastical tale.
Nour’s mother is also problematic. Why would she endanger her daughters by bringing them back to a country on the verge of civil war? When waiting to take a ferry, this educated woman doesn’t think of buying tickets for the passage? When Huda suffers an injury, Mama doesn’t behave with as much concern as I’d expect until things become dire. Then she sends off two daughters on their own without explaining where they should go? During their travels she somehow finds time to work on a map and then gives it to Nour without explanation? By being less than straight-forward, she endangers Nour and Zahra.
The style is lyrical with a lot of descriptions made vivid because of Nour’s synesthesia. I’d love to know how many times a colour is mentioned. The problem is the narrative becomes weighed down with too much description.
The same is true of the explanation of warring factions in Rawiya’s story: “In those days, the lands were pockmarked by the bloody snarls of disputes between the Seljuqs the Fatimids, and the Crusaders” and “the Fatimid Empire feared not only the Kingdom of Jerusalem and Nur ad-Din’s new stronghold in ash-Sham, but also Berber forces massing in the west near Barneek and the Gulf of Sidra – the mighty Almohads.” So much information can be overwhelming. What would have helped is a map.
The plot is also suffocated by characters lapsing into profound words of wisdom. Al-Idrisi says, “’Stories are powerful . . . but gather too many of the words of others in your heart, and they will drown out your own’” and Khaldun repeats, “’But once you’ve heard too many voices, you start to forget which one is your own.’” Huda repeats almost the same to her sister: “’it’s important to know who you are. You can get lost. . . . You have to listen to your own voice.’” Nour thinks, “Things change too much. We’ve always got to fix the maps, repaint the borders of ourselves.” Abu Sayeed translates an old man’s words, “’stories ease the pain of living, not dying. People always think dying is going to hurt. But it does not. It’s living that hurts us.’” Rawiya observes that “It was a noble thing . . . to seek beauty in a calloused world.” The sheer number of these pearls of wisdom does not ring true.
I’ve read other books which I think better convey the plight of Syrian refugees. Two of the most noteworthy are Silence is a Sense by Layla AlAmmar and What Strange Paradise by Omar El Akkad. Perhaps the constant switching between two narratives kept me from totally engaging with the characters. And one thing that struck me is that the flight of Nour’s family at the beginning seems almost too easy: they simply walk into a hospital in Damascus and get medical attention? They never encounter roadblocks when driving across Syria? Strangers virtually adopt them?
As I stated at the beginning, I wanted to love this book but I found it a plodding read at times. I had a difficult time staying with it; putting it down was easy. I stuck with it only because it was a book club choice. Hopefully others will enjoy it more because the experiences of Syrian refugees and those from other countries need to be known.
Please check out my reader's blog (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/) and follow me on Twitter (https://twitter.com/DCYakabuski).
There are two timelines. One begins in 2011. After the death of her father, 12-year-old Nour moves with her mother, a cartographer, and two sisters, Huda and Zahra, from Manhattan to Homs, Syria. When their home is bombed, the family is forced to flee. They become refugees travelling from country to country. To comfort herself, Nour remembers a fantastical tale her father used to tell her; this story, set in the twelfth century, is the second timeline. Sixteen-year-old Rawiya disguises herself as a boy and runs away to become an apprentice for a legendary mapmaker, Al-Idrisi. Travelling with him as he charts trade routes, she encounters mythical beasts and fights in epic battles.
There are many parallels between the two storylines. Fatherless girls disguised as boys travel the same geographical region in the company of a mapmaker. Both encounter many dangers on their journeys, dangers which are sometimes life-threatening. Both girls become heroines of sorts. Sometimes there seems to be too much of an effort to match events in the two stories (the roc’s attack on a ship and the shelling of a ferry) so the plot feels contrived. The intersection of the two narratives at the end also seems forced.
I found Nour to be a somewhat unconvincing narrator. For a pre-teen, she sometimes behaves like a child and at other times speaks and thinks like someone much older, someone much wiser than her years. She knows little Arabic but then seems to understand it? The book is heavy on symbolism - maps, salt, stars, stones - yet Nour understands the meanings? Nour thinks, “I want to make something good out of what was bad, something precious out of something small. Like the raw blue stone Abu Sayeed showed me, ugly and humble in the earth.” Of course the same can be said of Rawiya who shows amazing Rambo-like skill in battles (“She fired six stones, one after another, gashing her attackers’ shins and bruising their bellies until they dropped to the ground), but I am more willing to suspend disbelief when reading a fantastical tale.
Nour’s mother is also problematic. Why would she endanger her daughters by bringing them back to a country on the verge of civil war? When waiting to take a ferry, this educated woman doesn’t think of buying tickets for the passage? When Huda suffers an injury, Mama doesn’t behave with as much concern as I’d expect until things become dire. Then she sends off two daughters on their own without explaining where they should go? During their travels she somehow finds time to work on a map and then gives it to Nour without explanation? By being less than straight-forward, she endangers Nour and Zahra.
The style is lyrical with a lot of descriptions made vivid because of Nour’s synesthesia. I’d love to know how many times a colour is mentioned. The problem is the narrative becomes weighed down with too much description.
The same is true of the explanation of warring factions in Rawiya’s story: “In those days, the lands were pockmarked by the bloody snarls of disputes between the Seljuqs the Fatimids, and the Crusaders” and “the Fatimid Empire feared not only the Kingdom of Jerusalem and Nur ad-Din’s new stronghold in ash-Sham, but also Berber forces massing in the west near Barneek and the Gulf of Sidra – the mighty Almohads.” So much information can be overwhelming. What would have helped is a map.
The plot is also suffocated by characters lapsing into profound words of wisdom. Al-Idrisi says, “’Stories are powerful . . . but gather too many of the words of others in your heart, and they will drown out your own’” and Khaldun repeats, “’But once you’ve heard too many voices, you start to forget which one is your own.’” Huda repeats almost the same to her sister: “’it’s important to know who you are. You can get lost. . . . You have to listen to your own voice.’” Nour thinks, “Things change too much. We’ve always got to fix the maps, repaint the borders of ourselves.” Abu Sayeed translates an old man’s words, “’stories ease the pain of living, not dying. People always think dying is going to hurt. But it does not. It’s living that hurts us.’” Rawiya observes that “It was a noble thing . . . to seek beauty in a calloused world.” The sheer number of these pearls of wisdom does not ring true.
I’ve read other books which I think better convey the plight of Syrian refugees. Two of the most noteworthy are Silence is a Sense by Layla AlAmmar and What Strange Paradise by Omar El Akkad. Perhaps the constant switching between two narratives kept me from totally engaging with the characters. And one thing that struck me is that the flight of Nour’s family at the beginning seems almost too easy: they simply walk into a hospital in Damascus and get medical attention? They never encounter roadblocks when driving across Syria? Strangers virtually adopt them?
As I stated at the beginning, I wanted to love this book but I found it a plodding read at times. I had a difficult time staying with it; putting it down was easy. I stuck with it only because it was a book club choice. Hopefully others will enjoy it more because the experiences of Syrian refugees and those from other countries need to be known.
Please check out my reader's blog (https://schatjesshelves.blogspot.com/) and follow me on Twitter (https://twitter.com/DCYakabuski).
Nour is a young girl grieving the recent death of her father as her family moves from New York, where Nour grew up, back to her parents' native Syria, where war is brewing. Part of her coping involves recounting her and her father's father tale about Rawiya, a 12th century girl who disguised herself as a boy to apprentice with a famous mapmaker on a journey to map the known world, which is told in an alternating timeline.
When Nour's family's house is hit by a stray shell, they are forced to leave Syria in a harrowing journey across try Middle East—along the same route as Rawiya 800 years ago. Although their circumstances are different—Rawiya in search of adventure, Nour in search of a safe haven from war—both girls are on a journey of self-discovery toward their true selves and the realization that with the proper map, some things can never be lost.
The Map of Salt and Stars is a poetic, heartbreaking account demonstrating the impact of the Syrian war on its many refugees, showing the increasingly dangerous and desperate measures and challenges of Nour's family to find a safe place to resettle. The story isn't fast-paced and full of tension and conflict as is typical in the western storytelling structure. Still, at every stage of Nour's journey their plight becomes increasingly worse, to the point of inspiring genuine fear for their ultimate outcome.
Even though I was very interested in Rawiya's journey across the medieval Middle East, encountering poets, kings, riches, wars, and mythical creatures, I didn't find the storytelling or characterization of Rawiya as fulsome as those of Nour. We are more so told Rawiya's story than shown it, which makes it hard to find strong emotional parallels between both girls. I also found that Nour's synesthesia didn't add much to the narrative, even though it was utilized frequently in her descriptions of the world around her, and also played a minor role in the plot.
Synesthesia is a condition where one of a person's senses is simultaneously perceived by others; in Nour's case, she perceived sounds, smells, and letters as shapes and sounds. It's one of those conditions that sounds interesting in concept but doesn’t translate well into text for those who can't actually experience it, especially since the colours and shapes Nour ascribed to things were fairly conventional, e.g. red and spiky for an angry voice, purple and rounded for a happy laugh.
Still, the story had many philosophical things to say about finding oneself and finding one's place within their land of ancestry, and does much to raise awareness and empathy toward Syrian refugees.
When Nour's family's house is hit by a stray shell, they are forced to leave Syria in a harrowing journey across try Middle East—along the same route as Rawiya 800 years ago. Although their circumstances are different—Rawiya in search of adventure, Nour in search of a safe haven from war—both girls are on a journey of self-discovery toward their true selves and the realization that with the proper map, some things can never be lost.
The Map of Salt and Stars is a poetic, heartbreaking account demonstrating the impact of the Syrian war on its many refugees, showing the increasingly dangerous and desperate measures and challenges of Nour's family to find a safe place to resettle. The story isn't fast-paced and full of tension and conflict as is typical in the western storytelling structure. Still, at every stage of Nour's journey their plight becomes increasingly worse, to the point of inspiring genuine fear for their ultimate outcome.
Even though I was very interested in Rawiya's journey across the medieval Middle East, encountering poets, kings, riches, wars, and mythical creatures, I didn't find the storytelling or characterization of Rawiya as fulsome as those of Nour. We are more so told Rawiya's story than shown it, which makes it hard to find strong emotional parallels between both girls. I also found that Nour's synesthesia didn't add much to the narrative, even though it was utilized frequently in her descriptions of the world around her, and also played a minor role in the plot.
Synesthesia is a condition where one of a person's senses is simultaneously perceived by others; in Nour's case, she perceived sounds, smells, and letters as shapes and sounds. It's one of those conditions that sounds interesting in concept but doesn’t translate well into text for those who can't actually experience it, especially since the colours and shapes Nour ascribed to things were fairly conventional, e.g. red and spiky for an angry voice, purple and rounded for a happy laugh.
Still, the story had many philosophical things to say about finding oneself and finding one's place within their land of ancestry, and does much to raise awareness and empathy toward Syrian refugees.
I liked the book and would give this closer to 3.75 stars. The story focuses on Nour a young Syrian-American girl who returns with her mom and sisters to Syria from New York after her father dies of cancer in 2011. Nour has only know life in America in contrast to her mother and sisters who both previously lived in Syria. After their home is destroyed they decide to flea the country and make their way to Ceuta. As the story unfolds you learn of the challenges the family faces.
As the story of Nour and her family takes place in present day, there is a story within a story of a young woman (Rawiya) disguised as a young man (Rami). She becomes an apprentice to a famed mapmaker 800 years earlier.
I liked both stories well enough. They were interesting. The author uses lots of beautiful description through out the story.
As the story of Nour and her family takes place in present day, there is a story within a story of a young woman (Rawiya) disguised as a young man (Rami). She becomes an apprentice to a famed mapmaker 800 years earlier.
I liked both stories well enough. They were interesting. The author uses lots of beautiful description through out the story.
This book was on my Holds shelf for nearly a year (seriously) so maybe there is some built-in overhype just by the nature of this. I LOVED the main story line but I could not get into or follow the fairy tale portion. I'm grateful for the nature of this book, and the raw look at war-torn Syria (for those who remain interested, I recommend Girl at War by Sara Novic), but overall this didn't leave a strong impression with me.
3.5 stars - A little hard to follow the two stories at first. I ended up listening on audio, as reading all the names and places was confusing at first. A good story.
adventurous
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Complete summary and review posted at : https://thepageandpassport.com/2019/04/21/the-map-of-salt-and-stars-jennifer-zeynab-joukhadar/
The see-saw parallel narratives made The Map of Salt and Stars very readable. Each chapter starts with Rawiya's adventures and transitions neatly into Nour's story. It's easy to fall into a rhythm of reading, as each chapter ends in a way that makes the reader want to go on. I was pretty invested in Nour and Rawiya's stories, and I loved how they intersected.
Nour grows up in the most difficult of circumstances. She is a sweet young girl, grieving the loss of her beloved father, adjusting to her new life in Syria. She was born in America and has the strongest connection to her old life, often reminiscing about times she and her father walked in NYC. When the civil war in Syria comes too close to home, she, her mother, sisters, and father's old friend must forge a rough path out of the country and find a place that is safe for them. This is no easy feat, and the dangers, fear, and worry is in every step. The reader can feel the fear. It's that tangible. It is the refugee experience in raw, unflinching detail ... and Nour tries to make sense of it all in her child-like thinking that grows less and less childish with every chapter. It's heartbreaking to see how she is forced to grow up so quickly ... but also celebrate with her when she finally develops into young womanhood.
Rawiya's tale is no less compelling. Based on Middle Eastern myths and legends, fraught with beautiful religious detail and mixed with the stories of old, the reader also watches as she too grows in knowledge, courage, love and worldly experience. In order to apprentice with the mapmaker, she must pretend to be a boy, and she is able to keep her secret well whilst still developing her personality and identity. Her tale is a perfect match for Nour's.
The Map of Salt and Stars is a beautiful story that weaves fantasy, legend, and modern day crises in a way that isn't dreary or overbearing. The two narratives are equally important to the book's plot and keep the reader going from chapter to chapter. The writing is laced with gorgeous descriptions, heartbreaking moments of loss, and color that sets the reader right into the setting. The concrete poems that begin each section are rich, well-written, and capture the emotion of the coming section. Nour's story is one of love and loss, fear and bravery, resourcefulness and strength. She is not so easily forgotten when the last page is turned.
The see-saw parallel narratives made The Map of Salt and Stars very readable. Each chapter starts with Rawiya's adventures and transitions neatly into Nour's story. It's easy to fall into a rhythm of reading, as each chapter ends in a way that makes the reader want to go on. I was pretty invested in Nour and Rawiya's stories, and I loved how they intersected.
Nour grows up in the most difficult of circumstances. She is a sweet young girl, grieving the loss of her beloved father, adjusting to her new life in Syria. She was born in America and has the strongest connection to her old life, often reminiscing about times she and her father walked in NYC. When the civil war in Syria comes too close to home, she, her mother, sisters, and father's old friend must forge a rough path out of the country and find a place that is safe for them. This is no easy feat, and the dangers, fear, and worry is in every step. The reader can feel the fear. It's that tangible. It is the refugee experience in raw, unflinching detail ... and Nour tries to make sense of it all in her child-like thinking that grows less and less childish with every chapter. It's heartbreaking to see how she is forced to grow up so quickly ... but also celebrate with her when she finally develops into young womanhood.
Rawiya's tale is no less compelling. Based on Middle Eastern myths and legends, fraught with beautiful religious detail and mixed with the stories of old, the reader also watches as she too grows in knowledge, courage, love and worldly experience. In order to apprentice with the mapmaker, she must pretend to be a boy, and she is able to keep her secret well whilst still developing her personality and identity. Her tale is a perfect match for Nour's.
The Map of Salt and Stars is a beautiful story that weaves fantasy, legend, and modern day crises in a way that isn't dreary or overbearing. The two narratives are equally important to the book's plot and keep the reader going from chapter to chapter. The writing is laced with gorgeous descriptions, heartbreaking moments of loss, and color that sets the reader right into the setting. The concrete poems that begin each section are rich, well-written, and capture the emotion of the coming section. Nour's story is one of love and loss, fear and bravery, resourcefulness and strength. She is not so easily forgotten when the last page is turned.
Beautiful, sad story about a Syrian family forced to flee their home in search of safety that caused me to reflect upon the reality of living in a world I know little about.
5/10
This has been on my tbr for a long time but I convinced a friend to read it with me and that got me to finally pick it up. Overall I was disappointed. This book had so much potential but I was bored almost the entire time and never wanted to pick the book up to keep reading. I'm not sure how a book with such an interesting and heartbreaking story could be so bland but there I said it. Really bummed out with this one.
TW: bombings, attempted rape, violence related to war, death by drowning
This has been on my tbr for a long time but I convinced a friend to read it with me and that got me to finally pick it up. Overall I was disappointed. This book had so much potential but I was bored almost the entire time and never wanted to pick the book up to keep reading. I'm not sure how a book with such an interesting and heartbreaking story could be so bland but there I said it. Really bummed out with this one.
TW: bombings, attempted rape, violence related to war, death by drowning