Ayesha at Last by Uzma Jalaluddin: A Muslim Pride and Prejudice

I picked this book up because I'm a sucker for Austen adaptations, and I wasn't disappointed. It's a fun and thoughtful read. As I've pointed out elsewhere, there have been many recent adaptations that shift Pride and Prejudice to the perspective of diverse ethnic, class, or gender identities. When done well, adapting Austen's stories in these ways shows something new about Austen's stories and the communities they inhabit.

Ayesha at Last offers a very loose adaptation of P&P and is playing just as much with the romantic/screwball comedy genre reaching back both to Shakespeare and early twentieth century films. In fact, Shakespeare is threaded throughout the novel, primarily through Ayesha's Nana who loves quoting him, and elsewhere, such as when Ayesha quotes the "tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace" speech from Macbeth at a Muslim youth conference. It's surprising that none of the blurb materials that I've seen mention the Shakespeare angle because that's just as strong, and the novel ends with an index of the sources for all of the quotes.

The novel begins with a romantic pair - Ayesha and Khalid - who take an instant dislike to one another. They are both committed to their Muslim faith, but in very different ways. Ayesha sees Khalid as a "fundy," or judgmental fundamentalist, and Khalid thinks that Ayesha is not pious enough because he first meets her in a bar (or, rather, lounge). They are forced to work together organizing a conference for their financially troubled mosque, and an abundance of subplots ensue, some following the P&P formula and some not. I don't think it's a spoiler to say that you can probably imagine how it ends. Their romance emerges through conversations where they come to understand one another and take themselves a little less seriously.

I've always thought that the Olivier film version of P&P highlighted the similarities between Austen's story and screwball comedies from the 1930s, like His Girl Friday, Bringing up Baby, and The Lady Eve. There's a close connection between the formula of two characters initially hating each other but ultimately falling in love (which is part of what makes P&P so enduring) and a comedic version that involves smart alec-y conversations and eventual courtship. Ayesha at Last fits comfortably in the tradition of Austen, as well as of Shakespeare and Howard Hawkes.

I received an ARC of this novel from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Trying to figure out what I'm not getting about Sally Rooney’s *Normal People*

I have heard so much buzz about Sally Rooney’s novel Normal People that I am surprised that I didn't like it more. Maybe I’m so old that I can’t get too excited about the blooming of young love, especially when it’s this tortured? This isn't really a traditional love story, though, so that's not it....

That's not to say that I didn't find anything to like in this novel. It’s strength is in the psychological unpacking of the two protagonists, Marianne and Connell. Both of them are complex, and Rooney uses their relationship as a way to explore them as characters. These are fully fleshed out characters, and as a reader you understand them, even if their choices make you cringe.

However, while Rooney fully fleshes her main characters through their relationship, that tortured relationship was crazy-making for me as a reader. Why don't they just say what they mean? Why is everything so complicated between them? Is this novel about anything other than whether or not they get together? Although the plot moves through different phases of their life, the central question is always about their relationship with each other. We hear that they have other interests and skills, but they don't actually show up on the page very much.

Also, the chronology jumps ahead in seemingly random intervals. Each chapter marks a later period in time, and there will have been some major change in their circumstances or relationship status. I couldn't figure out if there was a pattern to these time jumps, but it felt a little bit like when someone else is fast forwarding a video and you have no control over when they hit pause or when they speed ahead. For this reason, the story never gains momentum because you don't get to linger on particular moments long enough or even understand how the shift happens to the next one.

I'm happy to be convinced otherwise, so feel free to tell me how wrong I am in the comments below. For the moment, I'm just not sold on this novel.

I received an ARC of this novel through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Why you should read yet another Pride and Prejudice adaptation (Soniah Kamal's Unmarriageable)le

I have read a LOT of Pride and Prejudice adaptations in the last few years. Some of them work really well - Ibi Zoboi's Pride and Jo Baker's Longbourn are particular standouts, and Bridget Jones's Diary has become something of a comfort read for me. Soniah Kamal's Unmarriageable (subtitled Pride and Prejudice in Pakistan), however, is my new favorite, not only because it works, but also because it is so smart and enjoyable.

Similar to the film Bride and Prejudice, Kamal's version uses the backdrop of a marriage-obsessed (including arranged marriage-obsessed) society to show how the class and gender issues that Austen wove into her plots still operate in some parts of the world. The Bennet sisters' dilemma is not an antique artifact for Alysba Binat and her sisters, but a constant pressure.

But Unmarriageable doesn't work just because the social strictures of early nineteenth-century England translate well to Pakistan in 2000. Kamal has re-imagined the plot and the characters in ways that are unique to her narrative and add a richness to the framework of Austen's story. Take, for example, Sherry Looclus, the Charlotte Lucas character, who has formed an alliance with Alys over cigarettes and frank conversations in the graveyard near the Binat house. The friendship between the two women has developed through sharing frustrations over work (they’re both literature teachers at a local girls’ school), their parents' determination to get them married, irritation that the only respectable way to have sex in Pakistani society is to get married, and the tedium (particularly for Sherry) of meetings with increasingly unappealing potential mates. Kamal has fully re-imagined Sherry’s need to marry without it seeming mercenary, but rather as a believable and deeply considered imperative. Plus, Kamal’s rendering of the horrible meet and greet with an old man who makes Sherry give him a neck massage before rejecting her makes clear how limited her options are - and where Kaleen would fall on the desirability spectrum. As a reader, I was genuinely sad when Alys and Sherry’s friendship is tested by Sherry's marriage (a marriage that is as compromised and complicated as in Austen's original).

Alongside the re-workings of Austen’s story, this novel is a lot of fun. I found myself googling many of the clothes that Kamal mentions so that I could visualize the splendor of the gatherings. Alys is also a smart and funny character who cares about her family, but also has her own ideas about how she wants to live her life and what her connection is to Pakistani culture.

As for the Alys/Darsee romance...after the expected display of pride and dislike on both sides, Alys’s relationship with Darsee is sparked by a mutual love of books and a sense of feeling between cultures. When they inevitably get together at the end, it feels right both for Austen’s world and for the one Kamal has created. Overall, this is a satisfying read.
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Chances Are...: The latest from Richard Russo

It's probably not fair to judge Richard Russo's new novel Chances are... (available July 30) against my own high expectations for Russo's work. Russo's novels are a masterclass in constructing layered narratives that deepen our understanding of character and situation. That layered narrative structure also results in beautifully crafted stories that loop back together by the end in ways that you can't imagine until you get there. Empire Falls is the best example, but Nobody's Fool, Straight Man, Everybody's Fool, and That Old Cape Magic all succeed as narratives that draw you in through humor, fully drawn characters, and masterfully constructed narratives.

Because of that, I was surprised that Chances Are... took an unusually long time for me to warm up to. We learn a lot about the characters in the first fifty pages or so, but I didn't really care about them or the situation they found themselves in. Jacy, a woman who was the love interest of all three of the main characters and has disappeared, definitely didn't seem compelling enough for the narrative to focus on. If I didn't have faith that Russo would pull it off, I might not have kept reading.

But he did. Perhaps not as brilliantly as in some of his other novels, but, about half-way in, the mystery of Jacy's disappearance gains momentum, primarily through a retired cop who deepens the suspense around what happened to her. By the end, I was absorbed in the story - if not in Jacy as a character. It feels as though Russo piles on extra helpings of tragedy in her life as a short cut to character development, which isn't entirely satisfying. On the other hand, the resolution of the narrative is satisfying.

On the whole, I don't think this is one of his best novels, but I did find myself swept up in the last half of the story.

If you've read it, let me know what you thought in the comments.

I received an ARC of this novel through NetGalley and Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.