Fantastic book. Poignant and touching and completely engrossing.
To be honest I had never paid much attention to the Palestine point of view and this novel spanning Kuwait and the Middle East in turbulent times is just breath taking. .full of food and romance and twists I full recommend

This is a powerful and compelling account of the life of one individual Palestinian woman, but a life which is emblematic of the lives of so many Palestinians as they suffer under Israeli occupation and injustice. It’s a heart-breaking story. As the book opens Nahr is in an inhumane Israeli prison where she recounts her life story as she reminisces about what has brought her to her current solitary confinement there. From Kuwait to Jordan and finally back to Palestine she is shunted around the world as global politics and Israeli oppression play havoc with her life and the lives of all around her. Much of the narrative is based on interviews with Palestinian women and although this gives authenticity to the story it sometimes felt as though Nahr was a composite character than a fully individual one. Hers is a dramatic story – which sometimes verged on the melodramatic – and the wide range of characters she meets occasionally fall into stereotype or even caricature, but any literary faults can be forgiven because this is an important book highlighting as it does the Palestinian plight and possibly bringing their hopeless and cruel situation to a wider readership. The book is an important contribution to Palestinian and middle-eastern literature and I very much enjoyed reading it.

This story is a moving account of the predicament faced by Palestinian people displaced from their own country and unable to settle elsewhere. To some extent, as a fictional account of real events, the book is a polemic but it also has an authentic voice. The writer was herself displaced from Kuwait after its liberation from Saddam Hussein and how that happened is in itself a sad story but here it is what eventually drives the central character, Nahr, back to Palestine to be displaced again by Israeli settlers.

The story opens with Nahr as an Israeli political prisoner accused of terrorist crimes but seemingly never put on trial in any serious way. Her solitary confinement is inhuman but it provides space for her memories. Her life has been a hard struggle to survive, to provide and to live as a free person. Susan Abulhawa doesn’t spare the details but the overwhelming impression is of a life where choices are constantly limited.

The account of the Palestinian occupation is mirrored by other accounts but what comes across most clearly here is not the international dilemmas or crises but the day-to-day nastiness and the casual violence of occupation so that it infiltrates into every aspect of life. No wonder it is sometimes called the Preoccupation!

There’s also a focus on how humanity can sometimes triumph over all of this. There are strong family ties, deep relationships and details of the day-to-day life of the Palestinians. The accounts of their meals, aided by a helpful glossary, make you hungry! How could anyone resist Shakshouka where eggs are poached along with tomatoes, chilli peppers and a range of exotic spices?

The book has a happy ending of a kind but it is hard earned. It’s a human and personal account of the Palestinian occupation. Of course it takes sides, if you would like to argue that there really is any justification for what has happened, but it also provides an insight into the small-scale impacts on individuals as well as those larger events which threaten their lives. It’s one of those books which can open eyes and, hopefully, minds. It’s well worth a read.

(The Loveless World is published by Atria Books. Thanks to the publishers and to NetGalley for an advance copy in exchange for a fair review.)

This is the story of a Palestinian woman Nahr (meaning River) who lives in Kuwait until shortly after the US forces enter the country following the Iraqi occupation. She then relocates to Amman in Jordan and Palestine. She tells her story from The Cube, an Israeli prison. This is a story of conflict and resistance, of dangerous love and survival by any means possible. This is not an easy read and right now in the midst Covid pandemic may not be the best timing for such a book.

There are parts of the novel that flow well and other sections that drag. You get a clear picture of the conflict in this area albeit from one perspective. There are a multitude of characters to get your head around, some are peripheral and some who are portrayed in greater depth. I find Nahr an enigmatic puzzle as she seems to be so many different things, almost like several people rolled into one. Some of the relationships are very complex which is partly intriguing but by the same token can add to the confusion. There are some fantastic descriptions of places which I really enjoy and Nahr’s love of Kuwait pre 1990 really shines through. I like the food references principally because I love Middle Eastern food but also because it demonstrates the importance of celebratory feasting in that part of the world where there is a strong sense of family, extended family and community.

Overall, it’s an interesting book but with some reservations.

3.5 rounded up

Thanks to NetGalley and Bloomsbury Publishing for the ARC.

Susan Abulhawa writes a blend of fact and fiction, epic storytelling amidst the landscape of a conflict ridden and war torn Middle East, from the unashamed and unapologetic perspective of the Palestinian experience and struggle, of the suffering under the deadly Israeli occupation and resistance. Nahr, a political prisoner, is incarcerated in the harsh conditions of The Cube, a prison where time has ceased to have any meanng, in solitary confinement, where she narrates the life journey, the path she walked that led to her present predicament, her family, the countries she passed through from Kuwait, Jordan, losing faith in love and men, and eventually finding a sense of home and belonging in Palestine. Along the way, there has been great horrors, pain, terrors, becoming a refugee, having to do what ever it takes to survive, including prostitution and eventually joining the resistance.

Despite a dark and disturbing narrative, there is humour and hope, and eye opening insights into Palestinian culture with rich descriptions and details. This is a far from perfect read, Nahr is an amalgam of the real life experiences of more than one woman, weakening the coherence of her character, but this does not detract from the importance of this beautiful, well written novel, giving readers a glimpse and much needed knowledge of the grim realities, complexities, and injustices of the Palestinian occupation and the Middle East from the perspective of a woman. Many thanks to Bloomsbury for an ARC.

A story of Palestinian resistance, AgainstThe Loveless World is told by Nahr from an Israeli prison called The Cube.

Always watched, cut off from the rhythms of the natural world, her solitude as a political prisoner is harsh in the extreme. The toilet flushes at random; the shower – that she names and thinks of as a lover, it being the only thing to caress her skin – comes on as and when her guards decide. She has no control over her surroundings inside that small box room of plastic to which she must shackle herself before anyone enters.

Nahr’s story is one of exile, female exploitation, sexual and state revolution, as well as love. From Kuwait to Palestine to Jordan we follow Nahr’s life into and finally out of The Cube.

We’re asked to consider the meaning of home, family, heritage and freedom in the face of repression and empire.

Presented as autobiography, the narrative occasionally feels weighted by an edge of self-centeredness but ultimately this is the expression of one complex woman’s life with all its nuance and singularity making Nahr and her story feel very real indeed.

Within the Cube

In an Israeli prison cell, known as The Cube, exists a Palestinian woman, known as Nahr or Yaqoot, convicted for unspecified crimes against the state. The events that have brought her to this fate are described in lurid and graphic detail, but also with a homely and sentimental thread running throughout the novel. The child of an exiled Palestinian family, Nahr suffers as an abandoned wife, then as a prostitute in Kuwait, further exile in Jordan, finally as a freedom fighter in Palestine, where she briefly finds a measure of love and contentment, until even that small comfort is crushed by the Israeli war machine.

And therein lies the problem with this novel. It has been compared with Isabel Allende’s A long petal of the sea, and - this is my opinion – the comparison is instructive. Allende’s story was measured and humane. There was a spectrum to her villainy, a spectrum to her virtue. Her story, for all its violence, felt plausible. Here everything is extreme – all Israelis are bad, and most men as well, irrespective of nation. There is an element of mawkish sentimentality about all things Palestinian, foods, customs, collecting olives, enjoying festivals. The Zionist Entity, without exception, is brutal, sly, acquisitive, untrustworthy and evil. This renders what is an always readable and shocking story to a condition which too often approaches caricature. And that is a pity.

Against the Loveless World is such a compelling read. Once again, just like in Mornings in Jenin, Susan Abulhawa focuses on the plight of the colonised, the oppressed, the displaced, the minorities, the political prisoners, the refugees, the forgotten- those who were not allowed live in their own country, because it was decided by the powers that be, to divide it and offer it in reparation for the crimes of another.
Here we see Nahr, daughter of Palestinian refugees, try to make her way in life- in Kuwait initially, viewed as a second class citizen purely because of her ancestry. Political instability and love, as well as other motives, take her from Kuwait, to Jordan and to Palestine- through the Iraq war, the search for refuge and the Israeli’s ceaseless tyranny upon Palestine. It mirrored the suffering of so many oppressed peoples- those in South Africa suffering under the apartheid regime, Catholics treated as second class citizens under British rule in Northern Ireland, the Black man’s struggle against segregation during the civil rights movement in the USA. These people just like the Palestinians were beaten, tortured, made to sign confessions, convicted without trial, falsely accused, oppressed and often killed, because of the ideals and power driven obsessions of others. This story is fiction, but based on fact, and represents what has happened and what is still happening around the world today. It shows how love can blossom despite the restrictions put on people. Some things can never be taken away. Susan Abulhawa’s writing is fantastic, some of the best I’ve ever read. The details she includes of the smallest rituals, of nature, of scenes and of people put us in the moment and makes us feel as we’re right there in the heart of the story. She’s a master of her trade.

‘I don’t cry in this place. There isn’t room enough for the heart to move. There are no winds to rustle it. Silence here is not the absence of sound, but the presence of a dense, unshakable stillness. Like dark matter in space, silence here is a living force that slides into all corners and seams.’

I'm overwhelmed by this devastating yet beautiful story of Nahr, a Palestinian woman who tells how she ended up in a terrible prison. Nahr has gone through enough to give up on love, but still remains hopeful and loves the people around her as if they were all family. I felt so much empathy for Nahr and understood the choices she makes, even though they may not always seem "right".
I really liked the well-developed secondary characters and the dynamics between them.
One detail I loved is the deeper meaning of the book's title which is revealed when Nahr lives the happiest days of her life.

This is an important and beautifully written story that I will not soon forget.

This is the story of Nahr and Bilal who both, in their different ways, are totally in love with Palestine and continually suffer as they and their small resistance group attempt to defy the Israelis. Their commitment to the cause means they are, apart from one idyllic spell, always fated to be apart - locked up in various prisons. Nahr's prison is nicknamed "The Cube" and she describes it's 3 by 2 metre dimension in spine-chilling detail. What happens to her there is horrific and the only way she manages to survive is by remembering, and ultimately writing down, her life story. Her burning wish, should she ever be released, is to find Bilal again and for them to live out their days in quiet harmony. But, in the same way she is ultimately exiled, for ever ,from Palestine it seems inevitable that she and Bilal shall suffer the same fate.
Abulhawa is one of those authors who can conjure up unforgettable images with her writing. But, just as importantly, she puts emotions - love of landscape, love between people - into language that makes it almost lyrical. I found this a truly absorbing and engaging read and strongly recommend it to everyone who has empathy for those embroiled in the The Middle East confrontations.

This is an amazing book and an amazing story, beautifully written. I think there are places when the book is uneven - for example in the final chapters action is a little hard to follow. But none of that takes away from the very great achievement that is "Against the loveless world"

The book takes us from pre invasion Kuwait, on through the Iraqi invasion, and the american "liberation". I had no idea idea of the experiences of Kuwaits palestinian population - I hadn't even considered it. Here I was brought up hard against my own assumptions and prejudices and lack of knowledge. The danger and risks faced by palestinian women before and after invasion are graphically illustrated here in the authors bare and affecting prose.

I would not hesitate to recommend this book.

This is a warm book about bleak situations, ranging from a Palestinian neighbourhood in Kuwait before the Iraqi invasion, through the Iraqi occupation and the return of a now-vengeful Kuwaiti government once the Iraqis were expelled, to a more difficult life in Jordan (a much poorer country than Kuwait) and then a life of knife-edge danger in Palestine itself. The heroine’s only defence against psychopathic treatment is to love those she can. (That’s what separates the sheep from the sociopaths.) The people she loves includes one person who appears to exploit her in a very serious way and another who initially despises her for her (largely misreported) sexual conduct.

Arab and particularly Palestinian culture is shown in loving detail, and this is a necessary antidote to the perceptions that Westerners usually have of Palestine, which is a dusty impact zone for whatever artillery is fired at it. That perception is shaped by journalists feeling they have to “tell the truth” about what seem to be the most important things: such as little boys being shot by Israeli settlers and so on. That needs to be reported, but if it is all you report, then the story you are telling becomes a falsehood, because you are not showing the world what is worthwhile about the culture that is being steadily destroyed. The author isn’t merely trying to show that Palestinian culture is being cruelly destroyed, but that it is well worth saving. That is not really what we get from the “victimology” of social-Marxism, because Marxism in any form seeks to destroy ALL existing culture in order for something “better” to rise from the ashes. (If the fire is hot enough, nothing ever rises from the vitrified ash at all.) Anyone seeking to “help” Palestine on the basis of such victimology is doing the work of the Israeli oppressors for them.

Along the way, the author allows her heroine to realise that if they did not have the Palestinians to oppress, the Israelis would almost certainly kill each other with vigour and enthusiasm. This may be more literally true than even the author realises: during my past attempts to befriend apparently reasonable Israelis, I was surprised and not a little disturbed to discover how just much they loathed Israelis of other persuasions and how much they were hated in return. I would refer readers to the last third or so of “Screwtape Proposes a Toast” by CS Lewis (if they cannot bear to read the whole thing, which is not very long.) This has been Israel’s problem for millennia.

The heroine and other Palestinians are not solely oppressed by the Israelis and Americans, however: they are oppressed by many Kuwaitis (not all, by any means), largely because the Palestinians were exploited by Saddam to supply a tissue of justification for his attempted conquest of Kuwait. The scope of this book does not extend quite to the present day, but the way that the Iranian regime is currently exploiting the Palestinian cause to further its own regional interests is sowing the seeds of further oppression of Palestinians by Arab regimes that the Iranian one seeks to destroy. Where, exactly, is the line drawn between such exploitation and direct oppression? Is there one?

Although this book depicts some inspiring acts of resistance and defiance (not just against the Israelis) it’s pretty clear that these will not create a solution by themselves and are really a form of pleading for some outside force to step in and change the situation. For this to happen, there has to be a change in the attitude and behaviour of several different governments, and for THAT to happen, it has to be possible for people with clean hands to access the top jobs in the countries concerned. As I have tried to make clear in my own work, if you have conventions or even formal systems which prevent persons with clean hands getting to the top (because, you know, you cannot trust anyone with clean hands: they will never do the necessary dirty work) you will be ruled by homicidal sociopaths in perpetuity and they will ALWAYS be able to think of more dirty work that needs doing.

There are two reasons why I read this book. Firstly, it appeared unrequested in my email: the publisher sent me a mail titled “Because you loved APEIROGON: Against the Loveless World by Susan Abulhawa”. Secondly, a good friend of mine has been suggesting for about 2 years that I should read the author’s debut novel “Mornings in Jenin” and although I keep telling him I will, I still haven’t got round to it. These two facts are linked by a third which is that I gave that friend a copy of Apeirogon for his birthday a few weeks ago: he is a far better friend than I am and is already deep into that book (and loving it).

It is by no means guaranteed that loving Apeirogon will mean you love this book. The email I received talks about how both books are about similar themes. This is true, but where Apeirogon explores the (real life) relationship between two men, one Palestinian and one Israeli, Against the Loveless World is unapologetically only written from a Palestinian perspective. It is also true that one of the attractions of Apeirogon (for me) is the combination of structure and poetic language. Against the Loveless World is written with passion and there are some beautiful passages, but it is a straightforward story, not poetic like Apeirogon.

The two books are set in the midst of the conflict between Palestine and Israel. Here, our narrator is Nahr (she has several other names in the course of the narrative) and she is imprisoned in The Cube. This is a bare room and it immediately brought back memories for me of Richard Powers’ book Plowing the Dark, one half of which concerns a man held prisoner in a bare room. Nahr, however, has managed to persuade her guards to give her pencil an paper and she is writing her life story, which is what we are reading.

The book’s title comes from a piece by James Baldwin (this isn’t me being clever and knowing my Baldwin - two of the book’s characters discuss this passage):

<i>”Here you were: to be loved. To be loved, baby, hard, at once and forever, to strengthen you against the loveless world”</i>

Nahr has a difficult and dramatic life which gradually leads to her becoming involved in the resistance fighting. It is best to find out about that life story by reading the book, so I won’t say any more. However, it does seem a common theme in the few reviews of the book that are currently available that Nahr is a composite character built out of several real life women (the author explains this in the acknowledgments at the end) and that she does feel rather like that at times: three women have a lot of experience to describe and at times it seems that the author is determined to fit it all in by channelling it through a single protagonist which makes for a busy life. That said, I have friends, one already mentioned, who have spent time working in and around Palestine with a charity organisation and it is definitely a difficult, tense and dangerous place to be. There’s a real chance that my reaction is purely a demonstration of my lack of understanding of the situation. Take the descriptions of a curfew imposed by Israel on all Palestinian people. A few months ago, I would have really struggled to relate to that, but COVID-19 has made me a bit more able to empathise. Even then, though, I can still walk out into my back garden at night without being afraid that a sniper equipped with night vision will pick me off.

It’s a well told story that moves along at a rapid pace. It doesn’t have the poetry or balance of Apeirogon, but I don’t think the author was necessarily aiming for poetry and balance.

3.5 stars rounded up.

My thanks to the publisher, Bloomsbury Publishing, for providing an (unrequested) ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

Susan's writing is impeccable but I already knew this having devoured Mornings in Jenin and The Blue Between Sky and Water. Against the Loveless World is no exception. Gripping and fearless, devastating and beautiful all at the same time. This is a must-read! 5/5

There's lots of interesting material in this book which offers up a Palestinian view of Middle Eastern politics ('I thought Saddam was invincible. I believed he'd be the Arab leader who would finally defeat Western imperialists and Zionist colonizers') with particular attention to the lives of women, but I'm less convinced that it works as a coherent novel. Abulhawa mentions her research at the end and it seems to me that taking the experiences of multiple women and allocating them all to a single character overloads the characterization, rendering Nahr's life unconvincingly melodramatic. Everything bad that can happen to her does from multiple rapes to getting married to a gay Palestinian with an Israeli soldier lover who then haunts the story, to becoming one of Israel's most famous prisoners. The writing doesn't always flow and motivations aren't always clear: I was never sure why Nahr falls into prostitution, for example, when she has a good day job and offers beauty treatments on the side: it feels shoehorned in because Abulhawa doesn't want to waste the research material. I might have preferred if this had been written as non-fiction documentary: an illuminating read, just not the most engaging or coherent as a piece of fiction.

Against the Loveless World is a powerful novel about a Palestinian woman telling her story from within a jail cell. Nahr grew up in Kuwait, did what she had to in order to survive and have money for her family, and found love and politics when she went to Palestine, both of which led her to end up in the Cube, an advanced Israeli jail cell. As she waits, with light and dark meaning nothing and the shower only turning on seemingly at random, she tells her story, and hopes that Bilal is still alive.

Abulhawa's prose is immediate and transports you into Nahr's world, both inside her cell and beforehand, with a narrative that spans years and conflicts. The structure works well to slowly reveal what happened, as the events span occupation, sex work, death, love, action, and politics, whilst also focusing on character and how Nahr feels. As a narrative based on accounts from multiple women about their lives, it is full of detail and harsh realities, and is a powerful look at why people make the choices they do, and how love might not always look the same.

This is not necessarily an easy book to read at times, but it is gripping and eye-opening, showing elements of Palestinian people's lives over the past few decades and complexities of politics, love, and sexuality to different people and in different countries.

I honestly don’t even know where to begin in expressing how utterly devastating and beautiful this book is. Against the Loveless World follows Nahr, a Palestinian woman who has been imprisoned in the Cube, a space devoid of any notion of time, with infrequent visitors who try and extract her story with little to no success. The novel goes back and forth in time, showing Nahr’s life and events leading up to her imprisonment, with such a profound, painful and ultimately hopeful narrative that I’ll truly, never forget. This book is own voices for palestinian rep.

I’ll say this right from the start; this is not an easy book to read, and nor do I think it’s meant to be. It tells a vital story, a story of one woman’s survival, displacement and suffering but also her joy, her love and revolutionary spirit. Nahr is a character I could relate to on so many levels and in such a personal way, which made me feel even more connected to the novel. Despite going through some of the most difficult things life can throw at someone, she continues to fight and refuses to cower or back down. There’s a lot of suffering in this novel, from personal trauma to deep rooted generational trauma and displacement which comes across on the page in such a raw and powerful way. Ultimately, I believe the message is one of hope and rebellion in the face of adversity, and indicates just how resilient Nahr is.

A huge part of Nahr’s identity and a driving force in the novel, is her Palestinian heritage and her frayed connection to Palestine. When we first ‘meet’ Nahr, she feels a disconnect to her homeland, having visited only when she was young and knowing only what her grandmother Sitti Wasfiyeh and her mother, tell her. As her circumstances change however, she eventually finds her way back to Palestine and forges a bond with her land and people which results in some of the most heart wrenching and gorgeous prose and parts of the novel. The author delves deep into the Palestinian / Israeli conflict and doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of life for Palestinians; the restrictions, the imprisonment and torture, loss of life and suppression of rich culture and tradition.

Not only is Nahr a compelling protagonist, but all the secondary characters are also well developed and interesting. I adored Nahr’s family, especially her grandmother Sitti Wasfiyeh and her brother Jehad. The family dynamics felt so real and so well written that I totally believed in them. I enjoyed the fact that the importance of family was so central, and this wasn’t just blood related but also featured the found family trope too. When Nahr is in Palestine she becomes part of something bigger, and also finds some of the closest friendships of her life amongst Bilal, Jumana, Ghassan, Samer, Wadee and Faisal.

After going through so much, Nahr kind of gives up on the idea of love and a healthy relationship with men, as all she has known thus far is suffering in her personal life. However, when she returns to Palestine and meets Bilal, she finds herself involved in a passionate cause of rebellion and slowly falls in love at the same time. These are some of my favourite parts of the book and Abuhalwa writes this relationship and the development in such a gorgeous way. I really grew to love Nahr as a character so seeing her finally get some semblance of peace and happiness despite the traumas of her past was so satisfying.

Overall, Against the Loveless World was a truly unique and moving reading experience and I would really encourage you to read this book. I already know it will be one of my favourite books of the year and I can’t recommend it enough.

This is an extraordinary book which feels closer to fact that fiction and is written in the first person, utterly convincing documentary style. A young Palestinian exiled from her home country is gradually drawn from her loving family and their values into a life of prostitution and then terrorism. The author describes these incremental steps with dispassion, we never lose sympathy, allowing the reader to understand how easily any of us could fall into the same trap and the plight of the dispossessed. With over 6 million refugees world wide, this is a salutary and important tale. I would highly recommend this book and thank you Netgalley and the publishers.