Though Arabic fiction has been typically characterized as "realist" this novel extends fair beyond the borders of traditional narratives (both Western and Mid. Eastern) and into the realm of poetics, metafiction, folklore, and abstraction. A solid achievement on every level. Though even the author has expressed doubts about the validity of translated texts, I found the book, despite whatever has been lost by its transition into English, to be astoundingly poignant and surprisingly surreal. My only complaint, in fact, is that Nasrallah has virtually no other works that have been translated into a language that I can actually read. Not yet at least...

The book, though not directly political, can do nothing to prevent itself from depicting the disillusionment and frustration of an entire generation of Palestinians living in exile- the theme of identity loss, IMO, is intricately connected with this reality. Nasrallah is also more of a poet than a fiction writer (this is actually one of his only novels, he's famous mostly for his poetry) but I think this serves to give his narrative a fresh voice and structural style that most traditional novelists lack.

A must read, especially for those with even the remotest interest in the Middle-East.