“Never had it occurred to him that you could deceive the person you held dear. It was his first lesson in the complexity of love.”
A dark little anecdote with which Elif Shafak opens her book paves the way for a novel that fearlessly takes on Honour killing and everything that comes with it. Shafak recalls a childhood memory of a neighbour who often beat his wife. “In the evenings we listened to the shouts, the cries, the swearing.” The entire neighbourhood pretended not to hear.
This tale of a Kurdish-Turkish family spans three generations and is the first of Shafak’s books to be set in London.
The story opens with Esme setting out to get her brother after his 14 year sentence in Shrewsbury Prison. He has been locked up for murder and it is suggested that the victim was his own mother. We then journey back and forth through Istanbul in the 50s, to Hackney in the 70s and a small Kurdish village where twin girls, Pembe and Jamila, step on the paths to the rest of their lives.
It is Pembe and her husband Adem who journey to London and start to raise their three children and we watch with the slow inevitably as a character starts a chaste relationship that leads to tragedy. Shafak neither villanises nor sugar coats the characters and issues this raises and unflinchingly shows the result of what happens when misogyny is allowed to run unchecked.
This story is written with a touch of magical realism and contains stories within stories that have the touch of the fantastical; a mother waits on a riverbank for an old woman to name her child and Jamila lives hermit-like as the “Virgin Midwife.” This writing style with touches of humour made what could have been a grim story, something warm and human and while I did not fall in love I did enjoy the reading.