
It is clear that this 384 page contemporary YA book is about the hot topic of burn banning in America, and I would imagine most are aware that the overwhelming number of books that have been recently banned or pulled because of objection, are by BIPOC and queer authors featuring BIPOC and queer themes and representation. So I read it not so much to see the author’s perspective, but more to see how the Muslim author had the Muslim identifying characters in the book approach the topic. The book is very black and white: book banning is wrong, Republican right wing MAGA members are fascist, and liberal freedom of speech supporters are LGBTQ+ identifying and allies and upholder of first amendment rights. Islam and the character’s Indian heritage is ingrained in the characters’ being, and a label they are comfortable with, unfortunately, it has no impact on how they act, think, or the lens in which they view their world. Every 50 pages or so some vague mention of Ramadan, or a tasbeeh, or mosque appears, only to disappear just as abruptly. The Muslim protagonist, Noor, likes two different boys, is often alone with one or the other, nearly kisses both, and with the support of her family attends prom. Her younger sister, Amal, is unsure if she wants a boyfriend or a girlfriend, it is not a major part of the story and is just mentioned in passing. A major side character is lesbian, and starts a bit of a relationship with another girl, they hold hands, and there are a few kisses on cheeks, nothing overly detailed. There is profanity in the book, arson, threats, racism, and stereotypes.
SYNOPSIS:
Noor and her family move to a small town from Chicago when her dad abruptly abandons the family. It is the end of Noor’s senior year, and with the grief, stress, and emotional upheaval of her family, Noor just wants to get to graduation. Quick friendships with Faiz and Juniper, and realizing that she is the daughter of her activist parents though, thrusts her into making enemies her first week in the conservative town by questioning the school’s book banning policies. Add in her strained relationship with her mom, her conflicting feelings for Andrew and Faiz, and her sisterly concern for Amal, and Noor has a lot on her plate as she shakes up a small town.
WHY I LIKE IT:
The first chapter is incredibly written, no doubt. I hated the dad, actually more than that, I was so disappointed in him, and so concerned for Noor, Amal and their mom. To feel such strong emotions for characters just introduced is a testament the author’s abilities. Sadly, insight into why their dad left never came, and perhaps no answers is something the characters had to grapple with, but as the reader, I felt it wasn’t really explored, or articulated, it just was unresolved, and I really wanted some closure. In terms of literary quality, the book went down hill pretty quick for me. The middle was slow and repetitive with the heavy handed views on book banning. Some shades of gray, or some discourse would have prodded the readers to maybe think about the implications of banning books, but the narrative never allowed for that. It is right vs wrong, us vs them from the start. There really is no growth of the protagonist, she doesn’t have much of a character arc, and the supporting cast is not fleshed out. I wanted to see more of Noor and her Mom, not just be told repetitively how absent she is, I wanted to see Faiz as a full person, not just the only other brown Muslim at the school and who likes to cook. Where are his parents, do they support his activism, that he is going to prom? Truly, there is no Islam in practice it is just a label that gets dropped when it furthers the notion of raging against an established bias system. I’m not saying they need to be praying and reading Quran on every page, but I don’t know that the story would be much different if the family was not Muslim Indian American. Really the catalyst is that they are a new family, and a visible minority.
FLAGS:
Straight and LGBTQ+ relationships, arson, threats, stereotypes, racism, bullying, cursing.























There are so few Palestinian middle grade books, so on that premise alone this 216 page book has a lot of value. Because I am not Palestinian, I do not live, nor have I ever lived under occupation, I can argue some of the concerns from a point of privilege, and I acknowledge that is not my right. I have been asked numerous times about this book and how it frames the suicide bombing mentioned in the text and blurbed about on the back of the book. It honestly is not a large part of the story, that being said, in my outside privileged view, I do not know that a 10 year old in the west will have context to understand the act of this level of desperation from the oppression and humiliation mentioned in the book. This is why I have held off my review. The truth does not need to be defended or explained, and I fear my reservations will be taken as such, which is not my intention. Would I let me 8 year old read this, yes, but we will read it together and discuss. My children are aware of what is going on in Palestine, but Karim, the 12-year-old protagonist supports the bomber, and that notion is not clearly pushed back on. With discussion, absolutely, I think readers, will truly get Karim’s perspective that something has to be done to change the status quo. The fear when Karim is alone and the target of soldiers, the settlers forcibly seizing the family land, the humiliation of strip searching men at checkpoints, the curfews, and constant fear of attack and imprisonment are all presented through the main character’s eyes, and would also do better with some discussion, so that empathy and duas and action can result. But, the commentary as to the suicide bombing are minimal, there is even a prank package bombing that is presented as rebellion by a side character, and I would worry how a young child, without guidance, would internalize it. Additionally, this is yet another difficult book for me to review, primarily because it was first published in 2003, and because I don’t know how much comes from a western gaze and how much the Palestinian voice played into it. Islam is clear on the prohibition of suicide. In the early 2000 the news out of Israel was often about such attacks, but as an outsider, I honestly do not know if it was simply Israeli propaganda and stereotypes amplifying the idea as part of their public relations strategy or reality, seeing as now that Palestinians have direct outlets to share their daily life under an oppressive occupation, there is rarely talk of suicide bombing attacks. The author states on her website:

