As I was reading this, I had a nagging and consistent feeling of deja vu. I realized about halfway through the book that I had read this before (obviously prior to my Goodreads days where I keep track of my reads pretty obsessively). I enjoyed reading this book although it started to get rather i...
Oh, I really liked this book! I liked the history of India during Partition and the impacts on Muslim families, being brought right into the extended families in this novel, the insights into journalism, and the dramas that are just part of life and relationships. An insert of September 11th ev...
Besides being the first book I have ever read by a Pakistani writer and having the subject matter be something so close to my everyday experiences, this book just didn't do it for me. As much as I wanted to like Saira, the supposedly spunky heroine of the novel, I couldn't get past her almost ina...
Judul: Gadis PemberontakJudul Asli: The Writing on My ForeheadPenulis: Nafisa HajiPenerjemah: Alan Taufiq HidayatPenerbit: LiteratiJumlah Halaman: 410Cetakan: I, Juli 2010ISBN: 9786028740074Saira Qader, anak seorang Indo-Pakistani yang tinggal di Amerika Serikat, hidup dengan keketatan aturan aga...
Interesting start with an American bible basher family girl finding cracks in her perfect world as she ponders why she has brown eyes in a family of blue eyes. Her real dad then goes off into his childhood memories incorporating Islam and I got disinterested in his minute recall of his childhood ...
I am writing this review, before reading what others thought of it and it's goodreads rating. I am floored with Nafisa's story, if you call it that. What strikes me the most is hoe balanced and genuine the whole novel is.I love the plot. The story within a story, and all the different characters,...
I loved this book, which was great because it's been a few months since I read something I loved. This is an epic saga told by multiple character's points of view. The insight into each character because of this construct was enriching and drew me into the story. Especially because this story inc...
I had made sure of that, greasing the right palms, those of my friend, and his friend, and, finally, his, who was a customs officer with clout. He would send a man to greet them the moment they passed through the concourse. This man—perhaps dressed in uniform, or, perhaps, in a suit and tie—would...