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I bought a bunch of Elif Shafak's books on a book sale. But in the years since, I have not had the chance to read them. Someone posted a story on their Instagram about how this book left them still, staying with them for a while. All signs of a good book! So, I picked up this book, hungry for some narrative and twists and turns. But in the end, I was rather disappointed, probably not because of the book, but because of my expectations for the book. I bought the books, looking for more similar writers to Orhan Pamuk, and this was probably my first problem: comparing a nobel prize winner with another writer (who is by all measures just as good).

As I started to read, I could not really get a feeling for the narration. The characters did not unfold in the way that I was looking for. (This requires some contextualisation: I am not in this statement telling the writer what I want to read, thinking that I know better than Shafak. But in the many years of reading, when you pick up certain books - more often than not written by nobel prize winners - it just has a certain "feel" to it. Think Orhan Pamuk, Albert Camus, Jose Saramago, and so on.)

The style felt too much: "She picked up her phone. She looked at the screen. What she saw she could not comprehend..."

This is obviously not from the book, but the writing was not good in my opinion (which does not say much). After reading some critique online as well, some of the other issues also clicked.

The book tried to do too much.

Some of the characters were just "too much".

The talking tree was okay, but some of the things happening crossed a certain line.

The historical bits were good, but the characters did not always feel organic enough.

I felt, while reading the book, that I could not connect to any of the characters. It jumped too much, too quickly. In some sense, Shafak told her story, too quickly and trying to cover too many subjects. She did not allow the story to unfold.

And at this stage (SPOILER WARNING) I might begin to "rewrite" the story for her. I know this is not always the best thing to do, because it is precisely her story and not mine. But if she did not put so much emphasis on the talking tree, and if she could cut some of the side narratives (the main character's daughter and her aunt), the book would have been one of the best I read.

But due to these strange relationships in the book, its quick unfolding, and its "told-structure", it just did not click with me.

And in this aspect, I am probably too "harsh" on this work. It was a good story, set in troubling times, with a historical bent to it.

But the story just felt flat.

I am left wondering why it left such an impression on the person making the Instagram video. What could they possible hold on to for so long?

Some food and drinks linger in your mouth. The sign of a good whisky is that after 30 minutes or so, you can still taste it. Good food challenges your tastebuds; a good pesto lingers in your mouth for hours.

But other food quickly dissipates. Some whiskies and beers just fade the moment you drink it. Some wine just does not leave an impression on you.

However, both of these are needed, both of them are important. Overwhelming your palate every day will become tiring and the whole point of the eating something luxurious will lose its flavour.

The same goes for books. I cannot and do not want to read Pamuk, Camus, and so on, every single day. I need breathers in between. And Shafak's The Island of Missing Trees was this breather. It was a good book, but not a memorable one...

And not every book you read should be a memorable one. Your mind will not be able to contain every single book if each and every book was memorable.

This is where I made a mistake in reading this book. Even before reading the first sentence, I placed it next to those books that left permanent imprints on me. I did not go into Camus, Pamuk, Milan Kundera and these authors expecting something. I went in blind. But I did not go in blind with Shafak. And this was my mistake.

I needed her to work on me, to savour the taste of her words for what they were. I already placed her into a category and this was my mistake and not her writing.

For the books to come (I have 5 other books of her), I will try to set aside this book. I will go in blind, so to speak. Even though this will be nearly impossible, I will try.

Even though this was by for not the standard book review, I hope that you will take something from it. Expect nothing, and do not be dissapointed, one might say.

For now, happy reading, and keep well!

All of the writings and opinions are my own. Take them with a pinch of salt. The photographs are also my own, taken with my Nikon D300.

The Fermented Philosopher's Library

🕮 The Book of Malachi	🕮 The Outsider	🕮 A Clockwork Orange	🕮 Perfume
by T.C. Farren	by Stephen King	by Anthony Burgess	by Patrick Suskind

🕮 The Uninvited	🕮 Life Is Elsewhere	🕮 Philosophy as a Way of Life	🕮 The Space Between the Space Between
by Geling Yan	by Milan Kundera	by Pierre Hadot	by John Hunt

🕮 Ezumezu: A System of Logic for African Philosophy	🕮 Adjustment Day	🕮 Philosophical Praxis: Origin, Relations, and Legacy	🕮 The Unbearable Lightness of Being
by Jonathan O. Chimakonam	by Chuck Palahniuk	by Gerd Achenbach	by Milan Kundera

🕮 Farundell	🕮 The Abstinence Teacher	🕮 All the Names	🕮 Tender Is the Flesh
by L. R. Fredericks	by Tom Perrotta	by José Saramago	by Agustina Bazterrica

🕮 Life Ceremony	🕮 Marcien Towa’s African Philosophy	🕮 The Book of Form and Emptiness	🕮 The Child of God
by Sayaka Murata	by Marcien Towa	by Ruth Ozeki	by Cormac McCarthy

🕮 A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing	🕮 Against Decolonisation: Taking African Agency Seriously
by Eimear McBride	by Olúfẹ́mi Táíwò