I borrowed this book from a friend who read it over the Christmas break and loved it. I, however, had mixed feelings. I recognize that this puts me in the minority. I see a lot of online reviews praising the story telling in this book as though it is staggeringly remarkable and I just can’t agree about the craft. But I do think it’s worth a read in some instances. I enjoyed it at times, but I did not love it and was even a bit annoyed at times.

The book traces the path of a young girl growing up in Afghanistan. So, already you know what this story is about. She is married off too young to a man who could be her grandfather and is nearly killed in childbirth, is beaten by him and is generally treated horrifically by her new family of in-laws and additional wives. Her story is different though in that, as a child, she had the opportunity to go to school–being from a family of only girls, this story sheds light on the practice of making a female child into a boy, a bacha posh, who is allowed by society to move around the world like a boy. This is a great help to mothers who cannot leave the house and need errands taken care of. Of course when the child hits puberty, she has to return to her female identity. As a result, this girl becomes literate which eventually saves her life when it becomes necessary to escape.

The heroine finds inspiration in the parallel story of her great-great-grandmother, Bibi Shekiba. Shekiba was also a poor village girl, mistreated in every possible way, who eventually found herself living in Kabul and witness to the modernization of Afghanistan–before the Russian and Isis backslide, of course.

Both Shekiba and Rahima, the protagonist, have interesting stories that keep you wanting to know what will happen next. They both seem marked for better lives. The cruelty they experience at the hands of their relatives, other women, and the attitudes of society are frustrating and causes some dissonance for the reader to reconcile how horrible people are to each other. It makes you wonder how minds will be able to be changed and while Shekiba and Rahima rise above, they feel like a minority, and the treatment-of-women (often by other women) situation feels pretty hopeless.

So, the stories are interesting and compelling, but the way Bibi Shekiba’s story is told seems pretty sophomoric. Rahima is often visited by her aunt who tells her the story of Shekiba. Throughout, the aunt has to be there to continue the story. And Rahima asks to be told about her. But by the end of the novel, the author just continues with chapters about Shekiba. So, she clings to this plot device for 2/3 of the book before finally abandoning it into a much more comfortable parallel telling of the two stories. I think after reading Marra, my expectations for story weaving are pretty high and so I found this device annoying and difficult to overlook. The writing, at moments, uses a bit of imagery, and the bird references are a nice linking device, but there should be so much more of this to engage readers, transport them to Afghanistan, and allow for a moment of reflection. However, the lack of much imagery or thought makes this a very quick read, which I appreciated once I realized that I wasn’t going to love it but wanted to finish it anyway. I more easily forgave the editing lapses, like the accidental point of view shift in Shekiba’s stories. The editors hurried through the book and so did I!

So I think this is a good read if you are unfamiliar with the experiences of women in Afghanistan or if you need a light quick read for the beach or airplane. If you only love literary fiction, there is not much here to sink into and you should go pick up one of those Anthony Marra books.