For every OG reader of islamic fiction from the West, Umm Zakiyyah needs no introduction. HEARTS WE LOST is my favourite of her novels because of the many questions it raises for me personally – as a Muslim and as a mother. So, of course it was on the line up for discussion with the first cohort of my BMW bookclub.
From the back cover synopsis, Sharif returns to the US after studying for six years in an Islamic University in Saudi Arabia changed in ways he cannot fully comprehend. Now doubting his engagement to his childhood friend, Hasna, Sharif is confounded by questions not only of marriage but how he should practice his faith in the post 9/11 America…
Every time I have read this book, I am left examining myself, in my roles (as a mother, friend, community member). I am forced to hold myself accountable for my beliefs and how I show up for them, and for the people around me. This ability to instigate reflection is what I love most about this book. It calls out the tunnel-vision smugness with which we approach issues, so sure that our version of anything is The Truth. Interestingly, this was displayed by almost every character in the book – from Sharif’s ‘pious’ reflections, and his mother’s air of superior judgy-ness, to the barely convincing rationalization with which Hasna, the obligatory ‘Bad Muslim’ character justified her actions.
Containing less of the social commentary of American race relations than is typical of UZ’s work, see my review of Footsteps here (although the African in me, who’s lived in Saudi Arabia for over a decade, found it ironic that the author did not recognise the kind of American exceptionalism that made Sharif, a Black American man, desirable to Yasmin, a Saudi woman of Yemeni and Pakistani origin) HEARTS WE LOST delves into the way Muslims interact within families and communities, and how we are sometimes cruelest to the ones closest to us.
With the maligning of both Jafar and Sharif, we see the big picture issue of how easily we fall upon our own, vicious and sometimes worse than the outsiders, often not recognising our actions as being more ammunition for those wanting our collective demise rather than a shield that will save us from the same. We are quick to cry islamophobia but fail to see it in our own reaction to and about people who “islam” differently than us. But, I digress…
I loved the character of Iman, much as my heart aches for her. For every girl whose goodness gave her parents leeway to lowkey neglect her, for every girl cosplaying “mature” because the people around you refuse to acknowledge that you, too, are just a little girl. Personally, I think the book would have hit harder if it had been told from Iman’s POV – and yes, I get why Sharif was the MC, being the link that connects the two worlds and all the characters.
A book exploring Iman as MC of this tale, with the baggage she grew up with courtesy of her mother and maternal relatives (even her selfish big sister, but isn’t that what big sisters do?), navigating her coming of age while coming to faith in the hostile confine of her Muslim community and dealing with life-threatening illness and a love interest in her sister’s adult ex-fiance sounds like a way more gripping novel than Sharif’s navel-gazing (which I love, hahaha) Okay, I admit that’s a totally different book than this one, maybe UZ will get on it.
Finally, I would love to be behind the curtains of the HEA the ending hinted at. How did this perfect polygamy between Sharif and his wives play out? Did Yasmin use her wealth and kids to an advantage, did Iman play the Zaynab bint Jahsh card, or were all three perfect polygamy partners we all love to swear by?
All of this to say, if you are into islamic fiction and you haven’t read HEART WE LOST, you’re missing out. Big time! And while I agree that a bit of editing might have gone a long way to making the book tighter and less meandering in some places, it’s worth it for a reflective reading experience.
Muti'ah Badruddeen 