Showing posts with label Muslim literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Muslim literature. Show all posts

Saturday, April 04, 2020

Muslim Literature: The Pros, the Pitfalls, and the Progress

Once upon a time, it was extremely difficult for English-speaking Muslims to find good books – fiction and non-fiction alike – that was catered to their demographic. Fiction, in particular, was scarce, for both young children as well as teens. Much of it was poorly written, filled with atrocious spelling and grammar, and stilted from beginning to end.

It was not an enjoyable reading experience.

Alhamdulillah, the Muslim literary scene has evolved significantly since the early 90s. Today, we have award-winning Muslim authors such as Na’ima B. Robert, whose excellent YA novels have been published through mainstream publishers and numerous emerging writers whose debut novels are wonderful contributions to the existing body of modern Muslim literature.

Muslim publishers such as Kube Publishing, Daybreak Press, and Ruqaya’s Bookshelf are taking the lead in producing and distributing stories by and for Muslims. In addition, the publishing company Simon and Schuster launched an entire division dedicated to books by Muslim writers. Hena Khan, S. K. Ali, Karuna Riazi, and Mark Gonzales are just some of the authors whose Muslim-centered stories have been published through Salaam Reads and made accessible to schools, libraries, and the general public. The We Need Diverse Books movement has also played a significant role in promoting multicultural and marginalized voices within mainstream publishing, and the results are wonderful.

Within the Muslim community, however, work still needs to be done...

Read more here.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

How Big Is Allah? - Book Review


“How big is Allah?” is a question that my four year old daughter has asked me before, and a question I always struggled to answer in a way that would be easy for her to conceptualize. Alhamdulillah for the new book, How Big is Allah? by author and illustrator Emma Apple, which came to my rescue!

Brilliantly laid out - both concise and illustrative not only due to Emma’s beautiful black-and-white ink drawings but also because of the clever use of large and small lettering paired with every image, How Big is Allah? is enchanting for both young readers and their parents.

Rather than relying on clichés that tend to be over-used when trying to teach Muslim children about their Lord, Emma’s approach is refreshing and creative. Each page encourages children to think and to reflect, a wonderful way to be like those whom the Qur’an describes:

{[Those] Who remember Allah while standing or sitting or [lying] on their sides and give thought to the creation of the heavens and the earth, [saying], "Our Lord, You did not create this aimlessly; exalted are You [above such a thing]; then protect us from the punishment of the Fire.} (Aal ‘Imran:191)

This book makes it much easier for young children to visualise the concepts of big and small, relativity/proportion, the solar system and space - while tying them all to the original question of “How big is Allah?”

The fact chart at the end of the book makes it easier to explain the definitions of words that might be new and unfamiliar, especially to the younger readers (aged around 4-6).

I found How Big is Allah? to not only be a great bedtime read that reminded my daughter to say her nightly adhkar, but also an encouragement to learn more about nature and science.

With very young readers (like my four year old), I personally suggest reading only the first couple of pages initially and to use them as the beginning of many more discussions about Allah I, our planet, and why we were created.

How Big is Allah? is guaranteed to charm your children with its uniquely vibrant imagery, age-appropriate language and beautifully simple yet effective method of understanding the answer to such a huge question. It’s an absolute must-have for every Muslim home, whether as part of an Islamic homeschooling programme or your own personal library.

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

AnonyMouse (Zainab bint Younus) is a young Muslimah who has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. She writes for SISTERS Magazine, SaudiLife.net, and blogs at http://www.thesalafifeminist.blogspot.com

Thursday, June 26, 2014

My Accidental Jihad (Book Review)

“My Accidental Jihad” is a book which proves that sometimes all it really takes to pick up a book is the title. In that, Krista Bremer was successful – I was certainly interested by the cover, and the blurb that describes her book as an “unlikely love story” between the author (an all-American surfer gal) and Ismail, a Libyan man raised in what could very well be an entirely different world.

The author is clear that her book is a very personal memoir, a journey that explores her own subconsciously held stereotypes and prejudices against the mysterious ‘other’… even as she fell in love with and married an Arab-African man. Her honesty is commendable even as it is uncomfortable; excerpts like the following made me wonder if I could make myself finish reading the book:

“Suddenly the regal Arab before me was gone, replaced by a cartoon Arab, a Disney character on a magic carpet. Now he was a dark bad man in an Indiana Jones movie, part of the hypnotized throng who prayed on all fours to the evil lord of fire, chanting mumbo jumbo and raising their backsides into the air. Or he was the bloodthirsty Libyan hell-bent to slaughter the brilliant scientist in Back to the Future, the one who ca¬reened through the mall parking lot in a VW bus, his checkered head cloth snapping in the wind as he sprayed gunfire like rain onto the asphalt.”

While I did realize that the purpose of mentioning such things was to highlight her ingrained prejudices, I still felt a sense of aversion to the turns of phrase utilized.

Ms. Bremer does a lot of compare and contrast between her own upbringing and background, and that of her husband’s; and the many unexpected challenges that arose during their marriage. From the purchasing of a new car to haggling over diamond rings, the author ruefully and good-naturedly talks about the beautiful ups and challenging downs of her inter-cultural marriage. The differences between Ismail and Krista are more than just cultural. Ismail is careful, deliberate, and serious, his outlook on life shaped by a harsh, poverty-stricken childhood in Gaddafi-ruled Libya, while Krista is the product of a luxurious, consumer-driven American society, longing for all the trappings of the American dream. It is interesting to note the author’s admission of being unable to relate to her husband’s background, with how she tries to look at her own culture through his eyes, and realizes that it may not be as glamorous as she’d always thought.

Each chapter reads somewhat like an anecdotal essay; by themselves, easy to digest, although it lends the book a somewhat choppy feel.

However, what really drew me into the book was the author’s description of her first visit to Libya – and many of her thoughts and experiences echoed my own, down to the agony of a first pregnancy in a foreign country where the concept of personal space and privacy are nearly non-existent.
The awe and wonder, as well as the confusion and frustration, of being surrounded by strangers who are now considered family; of sights and smells both pungent and oddly appealing, of a lifestyle that had deeply held traditions mixed with wisdom and superstitions… reading Ms. Bremer’s story reminded me of my own past, and much more able to relate with her reflections.

One thing which I found disappointing – and which had the potential to really capture a reader’s interest, and emphasize the ‘point’ of the book – is that the author mentions her own foray into Islam, and her earliest prayers, only as a casual aside. I wanted to know more about her spiritual journey, which, surprisingly, was not discussed in much depth.
Though her husband is a Muslim, religion does not play as direct a role in their story as one might think… although she was frank in how she struggled with the first Ramadan, particularly the somewhat noxious oral side effects. Perhaps most of the most interesting anecdotes was that of her young daughter’s choice to start wearing hijab, and her own internal struggle with how others would view her daughter – and how she herself viewed her daughter’s decision. It was this, more than anything else in the book, that truly highlighted the message that Ms. Bremer was trying to convey… the paradoxes, contradictions, immense frustrations, and imperfect beauty of an unconventional love.

“My Accidental Jihad” leaves one with – at the very least – a glimpse into another person’s unique experiences, with reflections both new and familiar. What readers derive from it most likely depends on what the reader brings with them when they start reading; for myself, I was not particularly swept away or impressed, but I was most certainly able to appreciate those experiences which were so similar to my own.
This book may be a helpful read to those with non-Muslim families who may not have been exposed to or interacted with many Muslims (or inter-faith marriages involving Muslims). For some, it can be an educational experience or simply an enjoyable read; all in all, “My Accidental Jihad” is a welcome contribution to the ever-increasing material of the collective Muslim narrative.

Rating: 3 out 5