Exit West

Another title which I'm seeing on many “best of 2017” lists. This one lived up to my expectations though. In one sense, it's a gritty examination of a city in an unnamed nation, to which war gradually creeps. Against this impending doom is the hopefulness of a new love relationship of a young man and woman. While I found the ebb and flow of their relationship as of secondary interest, it is a good frame for a war and a fantasy story.

I rate this novel highly as it falls right into the type of fantasy which I like the most - a world much like our own, but with an intriguing, not necessarily explained twist. In the world of this novel, ordinary doors inexplicably become portals transporting those who enter to suddenly exit through other doors throughout the world. These become the simple means to move refugees of war - specifically the two lovers - to new locations, first in refugee camps and eventually London and San Francisco.

The writing is poetic and almost lyrical at times as the author deftly juxtaposes the ugliness of war and the beauty of young, blossoming love. Aside from the engrossing writing, the most fascinating aspect of the alternate world for me is how these doors allow a new mobility for people and consequently the new politics and social structures which result. As I mentioned in another review here, it makes for a world which is thought provoking and therefore one I'd like to explore further in a sequel.

Unfortunately I think this is a case of ‘it's not you it's me'. I was not in the right head space for this - easily distracted, anxious (aren't we all) and generally sad with the state of the world. It was beautifully written with important messages around refugees and immigrants- but I couldn't connect- or maybe couldn't allow myself to connect.

As long as there are parts of the world that experience war, famine, and oppression, there will be immigrants and refugees. Mohsin Hamid's short, delicate Exit West tells a story about two of them, Saeed and Nadia, with a small magical realism twist: people move between countries through doors that appear, seemingly at random. People go through them, but they don't come back, so you don't know exactly where you're going until you get there. You just know that it's not where you are, and for many people, that's enough. Including our central couple, young people in a never-named, seemingly majority-Muslim city. Nadia covers herself from collarbone to toe in a long robe although such attire is not mandatory...but she's an atheist who smokes pot and is sexually active. Saeed is more traditional, but still far from devout. They meet in a class and sparks start to fly...but then so do bullets as insurgents begin to battle the government in their city, too.

Soon, they're left with little choice but to flee if they want any hope for the future. As they enter first Mykonos, and then London, thousands of others are doing the same. Hamid tosses little side vignettes of other refugees into his story, showing how people react to the new reality: some respond with fear and violence, but others build unexpected connections. As more and more people come streaming across borders, tension between the native populations of the countries experiencing an inflow and the desperate masses who've arrived begin to build. But cracks begin to form between Saeed and Nadia, as they find themselves taking different approaches to life in their new reality.

There's something fairy-tale-esque about this story, and it's not just because of Hamid's absolutely jaw-droppingly gorgeous writing. Maybe it's in how Saeed and Nadia are given personalities, but still feel symbolic. Maybe it's the way Hamid “zooms out”, as it were, every so often to give us a fuller view outside of their story. Maybe it's the familiar beats of love, and loss, and a journey. Maybe it's the undeniable sense of optimism. Maybe it's the elegance of the narrative. It's probably a little bit of all of the above.

I'll admit that I was wary when I heard that this book has a magical realism element, as that doesn't usually appeal to me. But I found myself grabbed by Saeed and Nadia, and their growing bond, and their reluctant flight from home, and their struggles to make new lives for themselves. And the device of the doors makes for a certain efficiency that works with the overall flow of the novel...like I said above, there's a real elegance to it, every word and plot detail seems like the product of a deliberate choice to include it. So using doors allows us to skip all the tedium of the mechanical aspects of getting from point A to point B. I was both charmed and deeply moved by this book and now I need to read everything else Hamid's ever written because this was amazing. I'd recommend this book to everyone.

So I'm confused about the book. I really liked the underlying theme but didn't like the writing style -
those long, never-ending sentences. I also felt there were some parts in the book that really could've been skipped. Like explaining Saeed's parents' life when the latter were young. I didn't understand the significance of that. I also ended up not liking both protagonists, Saeed and Nadia. Additionally I think the scenes of physical intimacy could have been toned down.