A Woman is No Man by Etaf Rum

Summary:

In Brooklyn, eighteen-year-old Deya is starting to meet with suitors. Though she doesn’t want to get married, her grandparents give her no choice. History is repeating itself: Deya’s mother, Isra, also had no choice when she left Palestine as a teenager to marry Adam. Though Deya was raised to believe her parents died in a car accident, a secret note from a mysterious, yet familiar-looking woman makes Deya question everything she was told about her past. As the narrative alternates between the lives of Deya and Isra, she begins to understand the dark, complex secrets behind her community.

My take: 4 looks – ***Spoiler Alert***

Isra is a devout and obedient woman in her home in Palestine. When her parents arrange a marriage for her to Adam, a Palestinian living in America, Isra hopes that things will be different and more enlightened when she is married. She is a pleaser, and strives to please her new husband and mother-in-law through acts of service. Unfortunately, this makes her more of a servant than a valued member of the family. Once she starts bearing daughter after daughter, instead of the desired son, she is quickly cast aside for another daughter-in-law whose first child is a son.

The story is replete with what I thought were merely stereotypes, but are, in actuality, real life in a traditional Palenstinian home. The highest honor for a woman is to be married and bear sons. Cooking, cleaning, and raising sons is the highlight of her life. She cannot be unaccompanied outside, should not look a man directly in the eye, always be deferential.

Isra’s abusive husband Adam also had his share of woes. As the eldest son, he is expected to shoulder the weight and responsibility of the ever-growing household through work, work, and more work. There is no time for anything else. There is no outlet for his goals and aspirations, no time for relaxing or hobby, and no time to spend with his family in a rejuvenating atmosphere. Because of this, he reverts to the only thing he knows: taking his frustrations out with his fists on his wife.

Another powerful voice is Adam and Isra’s first born child, Deya. As we vacillate between Isra and Deya’s narratives, the reader starts to weave together generations of sacrifices mothers are willing to make to give their children a better and freer life, even if they never taste it.

Many of the book’s characters would be considered unlikable, but at the same time, I found them to be sympathetic. There are centuries of mental and physical dogma creating this complex web of stringent roles and expectations. The poignant ending of the book is a heartbreaking revelation which ties the two narratives together.

The book is heavily inspired by the author’s upbringing. Rum is the eldest of nine children, raised in an Palestinian-American household in Brooklyn. The traditional teachings run deep, and she continues to feel guilt at letting down her family, even as she strives to be true to herself, and offer a different future to her daughter. As shown in her debut novel, the final scenes are of hope and sacrifice, illustrating what mothers are willing to do in order for the next generation to have a better life. Brilliantly, the title can be read in two ways: in the oppressive and limiting way that we often use, as well as a statement of a woman’s resiliency and strength.