A window into a world most people see depicted only in seconds-long news reports, one that we all should look through in order to recognize the genuine humanity within.

 

Asad lives in Gaza, in a tiny house, on a narrow street pocked by half-destroyed buildings, in a camp that looks shabby to him and feels claustrophobic. He walks virtually the same route every day to his summer job at a printing press, passing the prison that holds his father, for reasons that have not been fully explained to him. As the oldest son, he feels the weight of responsibility for his seven brothers, his sisters, and his Ummi, who wants him to study hard and excel in school, as all mothers do. Moody and reserved Asad has few friends, and fewer distractions. Thank goodness for Um Fawzi, a feisty, cigarette-smoking old woman, who’s the only one who seems willing to tell it like it is, sharply enough, and with a biting sense of humor that snaps him out of his fog sometimes. There’s also Houriya, a lovely and smart girl, who brings him books to read and sometimes prompts him to think about a future that he can’t truly imagine. There seems to be no escaping. But Asad has a secret, too, a mysterious black bag that holds something important that he keeps hidden from everyone.

 

This rare novel by and about Palestinians showcases this boy whose life is never easy, even as it’s filled with the longing, the bruised hopes, and the frustrations of any seventeen-year-old. 

 

Translated by Sawad Hussain, who was a Princeton translator in residence and has won numerous awards for her work.