4.5/5 ☆

Told from the perspective of two cousins, ‘Where the Jasmine Blooms’ is a story that reflects Mourid Barghouti’s saying, that “It is enough for a person to go through the first experience of uprooting, to become uprooted forever.” Yasmeen, a Palestinian living in the diaspora revisits Lebanon in the middle of an ongoing, drawn-out divorce – to the very place from which her mother tried to keep her and her brother away. Her cousin Reem, the sole breadwinner of the family after her brother Ahmad disappeared while working in Syria, is doing everything possible to escape abroad, where she will be able to pursue her dreams and take her family out of the refugee camps Palestinian are forced to live in.

Reem and Yasmeen couldn’t be more different (in terms of their personalities and their lived experiences), but they are also alike in a lot of ways. Like how they both made assumptions about places they’ve never been to. Yasmeen’s assumptions of what she would find in Lebanon quickly fall apart when she is confronted by the truth that war complicates every dynamic. A country run by corruption. The heartbreaking living conditions of Palestinians in Lebanon. The possibility of her father who had disappeared years ago being alive – the possibility of her having lived a lie. Reem is forced to take off the rose-coloured glasses she had on when viewing a better life abroad and is made to realise that sometimes immigration increases the chances of survival, but takes away the joy of it. It makes people live a life detached from their loved ones and their identity.

The author mentioned how she didn’t over explain anything that is common knowledge to Muslims and Arabs and it was exactly that - and I loved it. Books should feel familiar to own voice readers and not a textbook for readers who do not identify with the characters. I was in awe of how beautifully the author made sure to bring Islam to the forefront of the novel. It was in almost every page, threaded beautifully and naturally into words, sentences, paragraphs or in conversations. I even highlighted an Islamic book suggested by a character of the novel. Speaking of that, readers who might not relate or understand the references in the book just have to flip to the back where there is a vocabulary guide and a recommendation list for further reading, including books like The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine by Rashid Khalidi.

A lot of books focus on the romantic dynamic and completely neglects the relationships outside of it. Not in this one. In the beginning, Reem and Yasmeen were as detached as you’d expect cousins who’d never known of each other’s existence for most of their lives to be, but their relationship slowly and tenderly develops, and they find more about themselves while finding about each other. They learn to stand in the shoes they criticised from afar. And I also really loved that the relationship developed with the meaning of privilege being re-defined for each other. Yasmeen initially repeatedly pushes Reem (and others) for more information, despite being told that talking about the war might be triggering for those who have lived it. Reem assumes that Yasmeen had a wonderful life abroad, far away from the hardships that made her walk on eggshells her whole life. By the end, Yasmeen is still inquisitive, but learns to be more sensitive. Reem realises that you can go to any part of the world and still hold onto your values and that to people of colour, privilege means something different. Especially to a Palestinian, who is an orphan, struggling to unshackle herself from an abusive marriage.

This is the kind of book that will change the way you see things for the rest of your life. I know that the lives of those who live in refugee camps is heartbreaking, but nothing I had in mind was close to the reality. I was painfully aware of my privilege, to the point where a lot of the lines felt like a slap in the face. Especially the line (quoted from the arc) that said: ‘The world is complicit in maintaining the suffering of Palestinians). There are lots of themes that aren’t explicitly mentioned, but can be inferred. Like how Reem’s and Yasmeen’s distance is not unique. Families are ripped apart due to war (and colonisation), displaced from their country to many parts of the world. That refugees lose much more than the ‘safety’ they gain. It also shatters another western myth, showing us that no one becomes a refugee by choice.

There was a scene in the book where the characters who had narrowly escaped death due to israeli attacks on Lebanon stop to rest in a Druze town away from Beirut and watch a wedding procession. It was incredibly jarring to jump from a scene of death and uncertainty to a wedding, not only for the characters, but also for me as a reader. It made me realise how it must be for the Palestinians in Ghazza and (others, surviving and escaping from war-torn countries and those in the diaspora) to watch the rest of the world continue without a care. How our normalcy, our complicity, must unsettle and (rightfully) enrage them. As a reader, I was exposed to the full scale of the suffering and shown how the international coverage of it was so scarce. Which is the case in real life, where the suffering of Palestinians and Lebanese people (and others) is reduced to death tolls and summaries. They rarely talk about the events like it occurred to people and not statistics.

In the scene where Israel was attacking residential areas, one of the characters was sure they wouldn’t attack a certain area because it housed tourists and diplomats and the occupation wouldn’t dare do it due to the consequences from the international community (and because they are doing everything they can to make themselves seem like the victims). It made me feel sick. How the lives of people are valued based on the passports they hold and where they were born. How colonisers can act with impunity because the west has decided the value of life based on the colour of skin.

However, I did have some issues with the book. Firstly, I am not a big fan of Ziyad’s and Yasmeen’s relationship. Yes, it was cute, but there were things I couldn’t look past. Like how Yasmeen hid things from Ziyad but was not happy when he did the same with her and when she acted like he owed her trust because she trusted him enough to share some parts of her life. Secondly, Ziyad himself. There is a difference between having a mysterious past and a mysterious personality. He blurred the lines between both. Honestly, I didn’t have a clear picture of who he was even by the end of the story. And also, I think him being biracial was unnecessary, especially when it made no contribution to the story and was often neglected. Ziyad made no attempt to connect to his heritage beyond coming to Lebanon. There is also a point where Reem tells Yasmeen that Ziyad asked her if Yasmeen would marry a non-Arab and she thought he was talking about himself. Someone’s looks does not define their ethnicity. Ziyad is also Arab and the fact that Reem says that she thought Ziyad spoke of himself in that context is baffling, especially because she knows that his father is Lebanese. What makes it worse is that not even Yasmeen realises it. Another thing about Ziyad that I was not a fan of was the big reveal of his job. If it had had some value to his personality, it would have been great. But it was, like a lot of things about him, underdeveloped in my opinion. Thirdly, while I would’ve loved to know more about the fallout between Yasmeen’s mom and her twin sister (Reem’s mom), I understand why I didn’t. But what I didn’t get was that for someone who loves to get into a lot of details, Yasmeen almost never talks about her brother. There isn’t even a flashback involving him. We only know that he is a good brother, which is strange. We know more about the corrupt characters than Yasmeen’s brother.

But, the above criticisms make up a very small part of the story. It doesn’t take away from the fact that this is a very necessary story. I loved that Ziyad was so connected to the religion. I loved that the author took care to develop Yasmeen and Ziyad’s story, especially given that Yasmeen is a dv survivor. Yasmeen does not really discover a lot of the mystery surrounding the letters, which makes sense to me. It highlights the dangers researchers and journalists encounter while uncovering hard truths. The cliffhanger ending, keeping in mind the uncertainties of war, was realistic.

To summarise, Where the Jasmine Blooms is a beautiful paradox. It takes us along the oceanfront of Lebanon, creating an atmosphere performed by Jasmines, showcasing the richness of the culture. But that’s not where it ends. We’re then shown the other side of the mirror, of wars. Of western hypocrisy. Of how these wars affect people, especially through the lens of falasteeni refugees living in camps in Lebanon. But it doesn’t end in suffering, either, The story maintains an undercurrent of hope throughout, even in the most dire situations and ends in the same way. With people who are so resilient that even the uncertainty of their survival didn’t stop them from hoping not just to survive, but to also live.

It’s a must read.

This was a beautiful book, especially to read it in the current climate provided not only a glimpse into what is happening in lands that I feel are considered far away, but also the real feelings of going through this. Even though what is depicted here is inspired by the 2006 events in Lebanon, the beauty of expressing the grief, and the helplessness in this book touched me beyond words. There is seemingly a happy ending, but it’s also left to our imagination, I like to think it all goes full circle and they all meet in Toronto, and I hope they do.

The double POV from Yasmine and Reem’s perspectives has been beautiful to read, and has made me cry on more than one occasion, such a poignant way to express things that are beyond my imagination with so much sensibility to really touch you.

Where the Jasmine Blooms follows Jasmine and her cousin Reem. It is a dual pov narrative of hardships, loss, family, and culture. Jasmine grew up in Canada disconnected from her extended family and culture. As an adult she decides to visit Lebanon and find answers for her father’s disappearance and try to connect with her extended family and culture. Reem on the other hand witnessed the harsh realities of being a Palestinian refugee in Lebanon. Her goal is to apply to a masters program abroad to try to give her family a better life.

A brilliant and moving novel about a woman chasing Palestinian roots in Lebanon following a messy divorce. The novel brilliantly captures the feeling and lives of refugees. All of the characters felt fully formed and like their own people, I loved that both Yasmine and Reem were in entirely different places and circumstance but they were chasing similar desires.

The dual POV could be difficult to follow at times as I was getting lost between Yasmine and Reem but it could be picked back up throughout the chapter.

A devastating and personal debut can't wait to see what else this author produces.

Where the Jasmine Blooms follows Yasmine, a woman who travels to Lebanon in search of her Palestinian roots after a difficult divorce.

The novel captures the complexity of Palestinian displacement—not as distant history, but as a lived, ongoing reality. It explores themes like identity, grief, belonging, and intergenerational trauma in a beautiful way.

However, I did feel the book had more potential than it ultimately fulfilled. Some interactions could have been more fully developed, and a few plot points relied on coincidences that stretched plausibility. The ending also left me wishing for more emotional closure

This is an impressive and memorable debut. I really look forward to read more books of this author.

Where the Jasmine Blooms
Zeina Sleiman

This novel is a story of resilience. There are many internal and external battles that Yasmine and Reem face. Alongside the supporting characters, this made this story so robust. Yasmine is in the middle of finalizing a divorce. She is craving connection to the family her mother had to leave behind. Yasmine has no idea what her future holds.

Prior to her trip to Lebanon, she fosters a relationship with her cousin Reem. Unlike Yasmine, she has experienced the devastation of what war time can bring. She knows first hand how being a refugee with limited status negatively affects her quality of life. She wants the opportunities Yasmine has been afforded. Reem doesn’t understand why Yasmine needs to bring up the past or force others to revisit those buried memories.

I would argue that there were many focal points beyond or rather in conjunction to the framework of political turmoil. This historical fiction took me on a journey that addresses both personal and cultural identity. In Yasmine’s pursuit for the familiarity that was lost in the migration to a different country. She now gains her own stories to relate with others that have similar struggles.

Along with all of that, she finds solace in Ziyad. He is on his own journey, but they become like a sounding board for each other. I loved every moment of their interaction. The love was unmistakably evident.

Reem goes through so much. She is shaken by the things that have happened in the past and present, but she regains her footing, thankfully. When she sees a good opportunity, even with doubt lurking, she pushes forward.

#readandtellwithshantel #netgalley #zeinasleiman #wherethejasmineblooms

Told in alternating narratives, Where the Jasmine Blooms tells the story of two cousins, Yasmine and Reem in 2006. Yasmine has grown up in Canada and is going through a divorce. She arrives in Lebanon for six months of research work for her PhD and to look for answers about her estranged father. Reem has grown up in a Palestinian refugee camp and teaches at a local college. She is desperate to leave the country, but being a Palestinian, it isn't easy.

The story provides insight into the Lebanese civil war, its fatalities and the political divide which was gripping to read. It also provides insight into the horrific Israeli attacks of 2006.

Written beautifully, Zeina Sleiman captures the essence of life in Lebanon - the haves and the have nots and the painful past that many have endured. Despite being a gripping read, I would have liked more depth to Ziyad's character and a happy sense of closure for him and Yasmine. Also, I really wish that the ending hadn't been so abrupt.

This book is one of the first I read about Palestinian characters, specifically refugees and diaspora, that doesn't take place in the West, and it has helped me get a better grasp on how Palestinians are treated in other countries. I think it's a story that does really well in calling out the systemic injustices towards the Palestinian people and helps us understand even more than beyond a ceasefire, there are a lot of reparations that the world owes them.

I really liked the fact that Yasmine and Reem's lives were so different even if what they want feels very similar. It's a double POV story so we get to see all the ways in which both women struggle to understand each other, how conflict arises from it and yet they also bond so much over the little moments of mutual understanding. One thing I found so lovely is how Yasmine helped Reem be more comfortable expressing her rage and how Reem shared her courage and strength with Yasmine when she was at her most vulnerable.

I also really liked how this book was very beautifully rooted in love for Palestinian and Lebanese culture and arts, there's a lot I learned from reading it and especially from the glossary at the end.

The writing in this wasn't always my favorite, it sure has great moments but I didn't really like how dialogue took so much space, especially as it was often repetitive. The story beats also felt a little off, it dragged a lot at the beginning and rushes to the conclusion at the end.

Nonetheless, this was an interesting and insightful read. It focuses a lot on the emotions of the characters and what they live through rather than a defined point A to point B plot so if you enjoy those types of stories, I would recommend it. It's also an interesting read to learn about how displacement and attacks affect individuals' lives especially when those things are a continuous threat looming over them.

"Our families are filled with the secrets that harbour the pain of our displacement." This book was incredible. The way the author placed the reader in the story, even though the experiences in the book are so different to that of most Westerners, was amazing. It was also even more poignant knowing that this story is based on some of the author's real experiences, and it was certainly thought-provoking. As much as this story is a profound and harrowing tale of multiple generations and the hidden histories of war and displacement, it is also a wake-up call, and I know of many people who should read this book.

This book wrecked me in the best way. Zeina Sleiman crafts a deeply personal yet widely resonant story of Palestinian identity, displacement, and the weight of memory. It’s about loss, survival, and how history lingers in the smallest moments, in jasmine-scented air and family stories passed down like heirlooms. The Palestinian representation feels raw and honest, showing the complexity of holding onto a homeland that exists more in memory than in reality. I really loved the way that the ongoing political history and climate was woven in. Nakba, occupation, and forced exile and displacement were discussed not as distant tragedies but as lived realities that are shaping every generation. I feel like it truly captures the weight of what it means to be a Palestinian refugee (though do I by no means actually know what that is like), including the grief, the erasure, and the constant resistance to just exist. She explores intergenerational trauma, belonging, and the resilience of love and culture, in such a beautiful way. This read was emotional, political, and deeply personal. If you’ve ever felt like home is something you have to fight to define, this one will stay with you.

Where the Jasmine Blooms by Zeina Sleiman is a beautifully layered exploration of love, family, and identity that resonated deeply with me. Yasmine's journey from heartbreak in Toronto to uncovering long-hidden truths in Lebanon felt incredibly authentic and emotionally rich. Her struggle to reconcile her past while finding a sense of belonging was both moving and relatable. The bond between Yasmine and her cousin Reem added a powerful dynamic, showcasing resilience and hope against the backdrop of personal and political upheaval. The mystery of the letters and the search for her father infused the story with suspense, pulling me further into the narrative. Sleiman’s vivid descriptions of Lebanon—the scents of jasmine, the bustling streets, the quiet moments at Merriford Manor—brought the setting to life and made it a character in its own right.
What struck me most was the novel’s ability to balance deeply personal struggles with larger themes of displacement and identity. It’s not just a story of family secrets but a testament to the strength it takes to piece oneself back together. This book lingers with you, both for its beautifully crafted prose and the heartfelt emotions it evokes. Truly a standout read that left a lasting impression.