This was a book I picked up from the library's "free ARCs for employees" pile. The striking jewel-toned and gold cover design caught my eye to start, and the blurb sealed the deal. 

 

It's no secret that Iran's recent history has been one of trauma and turmoil, especially for the women of the country. This is, of course, due in large part to the US's "fingers-in-the pot" foreign policy. This novel does a beautiful job showcasing that, blame where it is deserved, while still centering the narratives of the people, and especially the women, who have lived, and are still living, it. Following Ellie's trajectory from table nuclear family home to less secure single parent home to step-parent and wealthy home to young-adulthood and independence to moving to America with her husband and the foreignness of that to a readjustment and accustomization to acting as a guardian for her friend's daughter in America and becoming essentially a second mother to her...it's a beautiful and emotional journey. And as we get a few sections woven in that are narrated by her best friend, Homa, and later Homa's daughter, Bahar, the novel rounds itself into something that spans and represents generations over decades, and the various paths a life could take under the circumstances of reality. These female relationships sent me through so many emotions. They were the absolute stars of this novel. As it was meant to be, Kamali delivers. 

 

I was particularly impressed with the nuance with which Kamali recognizes the "lion" in each of these women. While some (Homa) fight more obviously and some (Ellie) support and provide care from behind the "front lines," there is a fierceness in each, and an important place for each in the efforts towards the cause (women's rights). One cannot exist without the other. That is not always something that gets its due visibility. Relatedly, there is nuance in the fact that Homa, as someone on the front lines, someone who is constantly and loudly fighting for rights and against authoritarianism, will likely experience a greater violence against her person (as she absolutely does, in this novel), and yet, in the end, she chooses to take that risk upon herself, to protect/fight for others. And feels safer in doing so only when she knows those others are safe. In comparison, Ellie does sometimes seem too relaxed into her privilege, not having (and therefore not understanding) Homa's drive. Yet, when the time comes to support Homa, she does so with everything at her disposal. You'll be inclined, as the reader, to scoff at Ellie's naivete, and yet, when you see that Homa doesn't - that Homa appreciates and loves what Ellie can provide - it's really affecting. It makes you reconsider all those necessary roles, all the ways one can be a lion woman. And while it’s always worth pushing oneself to do/be/say/support/fight more, dismissing others is not the answer. And so to repeat, these relationships gave me emotions. 

  

Finally, it's worth noting how disheartening it was, how deeply upsetting and frightening, to see the parallels of this story - the story of Iran and Iranian women - and the slide into authoritarianism that we're experiencing in the US right now. That generations of women must suffer and sacrifice what matters most to fight for any kind of equality, and it never seems to end (and in fact often sees increible backsliding), is heart wrenching. But here we are. And I suppose, at least, we have gorgeous literature like this to sink into for solace and escape and being seen. 

 

 “Sometimes you have to break the law, Ellie. Some laws are stupid and unfair and absurd.” 

 

“I had assumed Homa's bravado was masking deep pain and suffering. But [...] I realized Homa's bravado wasn’t masking her pain. It was because of it.” 

 

“What made her […] so brave? What makes the women in Iran fighting on the streets now not afraid?” 

 

For a lifetime we have fought. We have fought and fought and fought. We want to be free. We want to be equal. We want to be able to live our lives.”