Marginalia: reading and parenting whilst thinking about Palestine
Books to bring relief when hope feels vanishingly small; books to read as an act of resistance.
This Marginalia was supposed to be something entirely different, but the things I have seen and read from Gaza recently have left me incensed, heartbroken and unable to do ‘business as usual’ when it comes to this newsletter. I know many of you feel the same way.
When I read about the massacre in Rafah, my sons and I were staying with my parents for the half-term holiday. Over the following days, I watched my boys play in the garden, their little faces radiant with happiness. I kissed them and put them to bed at night, and over and over again these little everyday moments made me feel such deep grief. My sons are not more entitled to this happiness; this safety, to their lives than the children of Palestine. It feels incomprehensible to me that my life — the daily work of looking after my children; the small joys and the mundanities — can simply continue, whilst such horrifying, genocidal violence is being committed in Gaza.
It has taken me two weeks to write this. Admittedly, during the school holidays I am caught up in the work of childcare and unable to get to my laptop. But, more than that, it has been hard to put these words down. I have felt choked with shock and sadness, and felt unsure whether an act as small as this is enough, but knowing I must do something.
But the thing I do is write about books. And specifically, about how books can give us what we need, when times feel dark or difficult. So that is what I have decided to do here: I am going to tell you about a book that helped me to hold Palestine in my mind recently, as well as some hopeful things to read when you need to find retreat and nurture your humanity.
It feels crucial to remember the importance of small acts: every voice, every donation, every single step taken in protest, all of it matters.
All of my profits from Crib Notes Book Shop this month will go to the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund and the United Nations Population Fund. Click here to browse and buy your books.
One Book That Has Helped Recently
Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad
This phenomenal novel is about spiky, guarded Sonia, a British Palestinian actress who has not returned to the homeland in years. Left reeling from an affair with a married theatre director, Sonia feels compelled to visit to visit her sister, Haneen, in Haifa. She envisages a holiday (days spent in cafes and at the beach) and when she is asked to join production of Hamlet in Palestine’s occupied West Bank, Sonia is reluctant. Soon, though, she is drawn into the play. As rehearsals begin, Sonia finds herself haunted by her family’s history: from the Nakba in 1948 to the uprisings during her teenage years. She reflects, too, on how the politics of Palestine reverberate through her fraught relationship with her sister. As Israeli authorities attempt to obstruct the play (with arrests, intimidation and interrogation), and tensions simmer between the cast members, Sonia is startled into political awakeness. Enter Ghost is a powerful and passionate novel, delving into questions about political engagement, art as resistance, and how we hold on to humanity amid conflict. It is one of the very best things I have read in 2024.
When To Read This Book: I began reading Enter Ghost, because I was looking for something that might make me feel politically and intellectually energised whilst living life at a toddler’s pace. I was immediately engrossed by the novel, which shaded in the gaps in my knowledge of Palestine in fascinating, elegantly-wrought detail. The novel allowed me to carry Palestine in my thoughts, to remain tuned in to the conflict, and to better bear witness to the atrocities occurring there daily. Though Sonia’s memories are often poignant and heart-wrenching, Enter Ghost carries a fierce note of hope — this is not a book that devastates the reader. And whilst the book was written before Hamas’s attacks of October 7th and Israel’s genocidal attacks on Gaza — it feels radically important that we cling to hope and resistance; that we do not fall into despair.
How To Read It: The audio performance is one of the best I've listened to recently. Admittedly, this intricate novel does require focus (something that is not always possible if I’m listening with the clamour of my children in the background) and I did find myself having to rewind frequently. However, it flows beautifully, and brings the novel to life. Enter Ghost is also available in paperback. Buy it here.
What to Read Next: I’m currently listening to the audio edition of Hammad’s debut, The Parisian, which takes us back to Palestine — and to Europe — in 1914. This richly immersive novel tells an intimate, deeply personal story, set against a turbulent era in history, taking the reader from the final days of the Ottoman Empire to the rise of Palestinian nationalism.
Books to Bring Relief When You Feel Hopeless
Over the last weeks, I have sobbed as I have scrolled through the news. Afterwards, I have been unable to sleep; images I have seen feel seared into my mind. I often feel guilty reaching for comfort when I know others do not have the safety and privilege to do so, and yet I know that I must pull myself away from time to time. Back in November, I found solace in these words from Grace Pengelly (writer of The Murmuration) about ‘finding shelter in unfathomably dark times’):
‘ The evil we are witnessing wants us to forget the people we are and the people we can be, it wants us to become vengeful and full of hatred for people who aren’t like us ‘Finding shelter’ isn’t about ignoring what it going on in the world, but is rather about maintaining our humanity during times of crisis. Right now, it’s essential that we find ways to cultivate our empathy and, for want of a better word, our ‘softness’ towards each other; especially towards those people we don’t understand or agree with.’
Here are 10 deeply humane, hopeful and compassionate books to bring relief when you feel devastated.
Fight Night by Miriam Toews: a raucous, riotus, soul-rending tragicomedy about how to keep fighting in the face of pain, grief and sadness. Read my review.
Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzales: a generous-spirited, punch-packing novel about love, political corruption, revoloution and the relationship between a Puerto Rican brother and sister from Brooklyn. Read my review.
Small Things Like These by Clare Keegan: set in a small Iris community during straitened times, this short miracle of a novel is a defiant flicker of light for when times feel very dark. Read my review.
Pachinko by Min Jin Li: this sweeping, multigenerational family saga, which unfurls across a century of Korean history, is a vital testament to the unsung but utterly tenacious work of women, who go unmentioned in the pages of history books. Read my review.
The Child by Kjersti Skomsvold: a luminous and piercing novella, in which a writer recounts her experiences of becoming a mother, from the fragile, terror-stricken days of early motherhood, to the eventual peace and contentment she has found. Read my review.
Wild Hope by Marisa Bate: this moving blend of memoir, reportage and feminist social history seeks to understand the political backlash against women’s bodily autonomy, and asks how we might hold onto hope when the outlook is bleak.
Huma Qureshi’s gorgeous memoir How We Met and her effortlessly enjoyable debut novel Playing Games, about the relationship between to sisters (read my reviews here and here)
The Year of the Cat by Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett: a radiant memoir about caregiving, female creativity and weighing up the desire for a baby with anxieties about bringing a child into the world. Read my review.
All This Could Be Different by Sarah Thankam Mathews: a queer coming-of-age story about a young Indian immigrant working a graduate job in the US. Razor sharp, drily-funny, affecting and tender. Read my review.
What’s On My Radar
Reading as an Act of Resistance
I’ve had Adania Shibli’s Minor Detail on my bedside table for a while. The novella, brings together the stories of two women: in the summer of 1949, a young Palestinian woman is captured, raped and buried in the sand by Israeli soldiers; decades later a woman in Ramallah becomes obsessed with finding out the truth about this seemingly ‘minor’ detail from history.
Perhaps I delayed reading Minor Detail because I feared it might be bleak. However, I am coming to see that reading this book might feel like a radical, essential, galvanising act. The brilliant Meena Kandasamy (author of When I Hit You, a book I love) says:
‘Adania Shibli’s exceptional novel Minor Detail belongs to the genre of the novel as resistance, as revolutionary text […] The narrative tempo, that eventually reaches a crescendo, astutely captures how alienation and heightened anxiety are elemental states of living under Israeli occupation. This is the political novel we have all been waiting for.’
Also on my radar:
Against the Loveless World by Susan Abulhawa: This Palestinian Book Award winner is described as ‘a powerful, furious, beautiful book from an internationally bestselling author of formidable standing - on sex, power, persecution, violation, survival, and resistance’. It sounds amazing.
How To Buy Your Books
I receive 10% commission on any books purchased via my bookshop.org storefront. In June, I’ll be donating every penny I make from the Crib Notes Book Shop to both the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund and the United Nations Population Fund, which is working to provide life-saving healthcare services to women in Gaza, including new mothers, and pregnant women.
Marginalia is my from the front-line-of-motherhood round-up of the things I have been reading whilst looking after my two young sons.
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