Minaret by Leila Aboulela

By Leila Aboulela

Leila Aboulela's American debut is a provocative, well timed, and interesting novel a few younger Muslim lady -- as soon as privileged and secular in her place of birth and now impoverished in London -- progressively embracing her orthodox religion. together with her Muslim hijab and down-turned gaze, Najwa is invisible to such a lot eyes, specifically to the wealthy households whose homes she cleans in London. 20 years in the past, Najwa, then at college in Khartoum, may by no means have imagined that at some point she will be a maid. An upper-class Westernized Sudanese, her desires have been to marry good and lift a relatives. yet a coup forces the younger lady and her relatives into political exile in London. quickly orphaned, she unearths solace and companionship in the Muslim group. Then Najwa meets Tamer, the serious, lonely more youthful brother of her enterprise. They discover a universal bond in religion and slowly, silently, start to fall in love. Written with directness and strength, Minaret is a lyric and insightful novel approximately Islam and an desirable glimpse right into a tradition Westerners are just simply starting to comprehend.

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At the beginning of the term, our very first in the university, we used to go well ahead of the time. Six weeks into the term, we discovered that the sophisticated thing was to appear at the last minute. All the lecturers turned up ten minutes past the hour, and swept grandly into halls full of expectant students. I could not hear any sound from above so I ran upstairs. No, the bathroom was empty. I opened Omar's bedroom and the room was, as I had expected, an oven. Yet there he was fast asleep, sprawled snoring.

M. Coetzee "It is refreshing to read a novel that tries to give Muslims their due. For Aboulela, faith is not an ossified overbearing cross that crushes its followers.... " -The Suiulut- Herald "Aboulela is a wonderfully poetic writer: she has a way with little details. . " -The Guardian MINARET BY THE SAME AUTHOR The Translator Coloured Lights MINARET LEILA ABOULELA Bism Allah, Ar-rahman, Ar-raheem 've come down in the world. I've slid to a place where the ceiling is low and there isn't much room to move.

I pushed my way out of the crowd, deaf and not knowing if anyone was looking at me. I knew that I mustn't cry, that I must walk with dignity to my car. I sat in the car, on the hot sticky plastic seat. I released the handbrake, twisted the key in the ignition. As I started to drive off, there was a knock on the window. Omar. Omar in a good mood, smiling. Not Omar of the seedy parties and suspect smell but Omar fresh in a white T-shirt and jeans, smiling. I rolled down the window. ' How did he know?

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