THE PLOT: ‘Mornings in Jenin’ by Susan Abulhawa is a multi-generational novel about a Palestinian family who are forcibly removed from their village by Israeli settlers. 1948, the Abulhejas are moved into the Jenin refugee camp. There, exiled from his beloved olive groves, the family patriarch languishes of a broken heart, his eldest son fathers a family and falls victim to an Israeli bullet, and his grandchildren struggle against tragedy. Through Amal, the patriarch’s bright granddaughter, we get the stories of her twin brothers, one who is kidnapped by an Israeli soldier and raised Jewish; the other who sacrifices everything for the Palestinian cause.

SUMMARY:  The word heart-breaking is used for so many novels but reading this book as the genocide in Palestine intensifies has truly broken me. This novel has educated me on historical events, with a strong narrative and endearing characters that make history all too real and personal. I often joke that I’m “all the Abrahamic faiths” as I have Muslim, Jewish and Christian ancestors, but this is a book that transcends religion. Through both the Palestinian and Jewish characters, the author demonstrates that we are all human and the atrocities of the Israeli state are about a morally corrupt government seeking power and land, not about belief systems.

GOOD BITS:  The lyrical writing blew me away and I couldn’t stop underlining passages. Having recently completed a webinar on elevating writing at a line level, I noticed so many stylistic devices that brought the story to life. The transition from third person to first person narratives was very skilful, and made the story read like memoir at points. The amount of tragedy in this novel could feel melodramatic but it’s all too realistic against the historical backdrop of real-life atrocities committed against the Palestinian people. The horrific trajectories of characters such as Yousef and Mansoor, who suffered so much as children, will always stay with me.

NOT SO GOOD BITS:  I felt the story really kicked into gear with Amal’s first-person section around page 50. The opening is necessary for scene setting, context and the inciting incident, but I got confused at the number of characters and didn’t feel a strong bond with any of them due to all of their story threads. I wonder if focusing more on one character (e.g. Dalia) and grounding it in their perspective would’ve made it more accessible. 

OVERALL: I’d recommend this book to fans of ‘The Kite Runner’ by Khaled Hosseni and ‘The Beauty of Your Face’ by Sahar Mustafa. This is an essential novel if you are an avid reader who cares about global politics and humanitarian issues.