An Unnecessary Woman

Alameddine's novel centres around a 70 year old woman in Beirut who has lived through the war and aftermath on her own in an apartment translating novels into Arabic. The way Aaliyah lives her life is formed by the way she was treated - ignored by her family, found wanting by her husband and abandoned by her friends. As she shuts the world and its problems out, she delves head-first into her novels - immersing herself in their worlds. She truly lives a literary life. Every circumstance brings forth a few poetic lines from one of her favourite authors. It is only at the end of the book that Aaliyah is driven out of this dream life to reality. Alameddine's writing is beautiful and he has many comments to make about literature, art and music - bygone words in this century. Although sometimes depressing, there is hope as Aaliyah discovers that she can share her world.

What an interesting character we have in Aaliya! A woman in her seventies who lives alone in an apartment in Beirut, Lebanon, says of herself, “I am my family’s appendix, its unnecessary appendage.” Aaliya was married at sixteen to “an impotent insect” who divorced her four years into the marriage. The apartment they lived in remained hers, though her family and her ex’s harassed her for it until Israeli’s siege of Beirut sent them fleeing for safety. Only those with nowhere to go stayed in the city. Aaliya, alone, had to defend herself from intruders by brandishing an AK-47 that slept with her, a purchase she made after she discovered a soldier had entered her home and shat in it. For fifty years, Aaliya worked in a bookstore. Her education, cut short by marriage, didn’t deter her from gaining mastery in language, and she translates French and English literature into Arabic. As the novel progresses, she learns classical music as well while we learn about the ravages of the war and watch her evolve from a misanthrope to one who is forced out of her cocoon by a plumbing leak. Let me pause to say that Alameddine is one of those authors whose works are challenging to discuss. When we confront something as beautifully written, with such fresh perspective and originality, yet with such structural oddities and details, it’s a challenge to look at the creation without seeking insight from the creator. This can add to and strengthen the experience, as with Moshin Hamid’s latest work. Or it can have a less favorable impact. I say in advance, following Alameddine’s reviews certainly helped with many questions, but it also brought discouraging news. People will be people. None of us are immune. You can’t possibly read this novel and not fall in love with Aailya, be grateful for having met her and discovered her world through her eyes. The unfortunate thing is that Alameddine forgot that authors are best hidden so we can focus on their beautiful character creations without being reminded that someone is using a laptop to make them up. If he wants us to know how erudite and well read he is, a memoir is a good option. But this is a novel. About Aaliya. This brave and heartwarming story is so littered with esoteric rabbit droppings and so swollen to its banks with literary references—such obvious intrusions by the author who makes sure we know those are his personal lists—that we must dig to unearth the darling Aaliya. Just a warning—if classic literature, mythology, and philosophy are not your thing, you might want to get your hands on a crib sheet. If they are, well, you still might want to, just in case…. As to Alameddine’s approach to storytelling in general. 2016 Freeman, LitHub, interview: “So are you trying to make the reader figure out what is true and what is not true or are you just trying to mess with their minds?” Alameddine: “That’s actually a difficult question because my first response—forgive me—is: f@*#k the reader. … I write for me. I write because I have something to say to me.” Well, that’s out of the way. Since he’s not writing for the reader and, as the LitHub interview proceeds, we learn that he is his ideal reader, where does that leave we non-ideal readers and how can we then comment on this book? Maybe with the same bare-chested honesty as he. Grabbing the gauntlet he has tossed is why his words are being quoted here. They help us see why this book has so much esoteric fluff and what might have influenced Aailya’s personality and lifestyle. Moving on. Many are impressed with how well this author has written a female protagonist. He finds this topic, shall we say, a teensy bit annoying. He says in the LitHub interview noted above, “Have you f@*#king met my mother? Let me introduce you. Let me introduce you to my sisters. It’s just . . . I don’t understand it. I never understood it.” Okay. That answers that. As to another aspect of Aaliya’s personality, ahem, her bristly side that may or may not be due to the leaking author thingamajig. You be the judge. Alameddine said in a 2015 interview with Srinivas, The Guardian, that he hates being asked his opinion about Middle East peace. “I don’t f@*#king know. ‘What do you think of Israel?’ Why are you asking me this?” It also annoys him when asked about the tension in that region. Updike was never asked about US politics, he argues. Wait a minute… is he comparing himself/his work to Updike? The John Updike? So… hmm… Since this is a review on a site where reviewers review books, let’s end with a final word from Alameddine in the LitHub interview noted above. We are a smart group of readers and our thoughts count, but we know he isn’t referring to the Goodreads reviewers. It’s the big guns in publishing that put pressure on any writer. Speaking of Aailya, “I would love to be her. I would love to be able to write and not care what some f@*#king reviewer says about the book. I really would love that, but I’m not as enlightened as she is...” Well, Rabih, you’re the one who said it.