Yzabel / April 28, 2019

Review: Internment

InternmentInternment by Samira Ahmed
My rating: [usr 2.5]

Blurb:

Rebellions are built on hope.

Set in a horrifying near-future United States, seventeen-year-old Layla Amin and her parents are forced into an internment camp for Muslim American citizens.

With the help of newly made friends also trapped within the internment camp, her boyfriend on the outside, and an unexpected alliance, Layla begins a journey to fight for freedom, leading a revolution against the internment camp’s Director and his guards.

Heart-racing and emotional, Internment challenges readers to fight complicit silence that exists in our society today.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

The theme of this book was definitely scary, in that it’s not something that can never happen—it has happened in the past already, and anyone who’s studied history a little, and/or gotten interested in studying extremist movements, will know very well that even an apparently “balanced” society can give way to extreme rules, to persecuting people, and to turning your average citizen into an “I was just doing my job” person.

The story echoes the internment of many Japanese-descent American citizens during World War II, often considered as “enemies of the nation” and interned as “potential dangers”. There is no World War here, “only” the aftermath of 9/11 and growing fears of terrorism, with people being so afraid of a fringe of Muslim people that they lump all Muslims in the same basket, starting with a religion census, then moving to curfews and the burning of books. Also, the parallels drawn with early 21st century US politics are obvious (although this is not limited to the USA)… perhaps a little too much. Which leads me to what was my main beef with the book: it makes everything too obvious.

Don’t mistake me: the message IS really important, and there’s no way any decent society should let something like this happen (again). However, I often found that it was hammered through and through, and that overall, more subtlety, and a more mature treatment of it all, would’ve been welcome. It’s a little as if too much repetition, too much obviousness, weakened the message by making it tiresome, in a way. (I’m not sure if I’m explaining myself very well here. It was difficult to properly put my finger on what had been nagging me throughout my reading.)

A few other things annoyed me, too. The writing itself was fairly simplistic, with Layla’s thoughts often circling around the same things (like her boyfriend), and in general, there wasn’t really any explanation about how things came to be. I could fill in some blanks because I know my history, but more background details about the escalation of Islamophobia leading to the internment camps would’ve been great (and would’ve helped to strengthen the message)—just like it would’ve been good to see more chemistry when relationships were involved. For instance, Layla and David: we don’t get to see them together enough in the beginning to get a feeling for their relationship, and this makes it hard to really empathise with their obsession to see each other (even though doing so endangers pretty much everyone: David, Layla, his family, her family, the people who help them…).

The same goes for those people who are on the Muslims’ side: with everyone at the camp cut from the outside world, with no real news, no phones, no internet allowed, whatever happens outside is learnt through third parties. We don’t really -see- those reactions, we don’t get to read the texts that Layla manages to smuggle outside and that inspire people, etc. And most characters’ motivations are never really explored. Why is the Director such a cartoonish villain? What motivates the guards who try to help? What motivates (or threatens) the minders turned traitors to their people?

The ending, too, was… conveniently simple. And got rid of one specific plot point that otherwise would’ve needed more explanation. That was very predictable… and very frustrating.

Conclusion: I definitely agree with the message here, but as a novel, it didn’t really work for me.

Yzabel / April 3, 2018

Review: [Preview of] Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About RaceWhy I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge

Blurb:

In 2014, award-winning journalist Reni Eddo-Lodge wrote about her frustration with the way that discussions of race and racism in Britain were being led by those who weren’t affected by it. She posted a piece on her blog, entitled: ‘Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race’.

Her words hit a nerve. The post went viral and comments flooded in from others desperate to speak up about their own experiences. Galvanised by this clear hunger for open discussion, she decided to dig into the source of these feelings.

Exploring issues from eradicated black history to the political purpose of white dominance, whitewashed feminism to the inextricable link between class and race, Reni Eddo-Lodge offers a timely and essential new framework for how to see, acknowledge and counter racism. It is a searing, illuminating, absolutely necessary exploration of what it is to be a person of colour in Britain today.

Review:

[I received a preview of this book through Netgalley. For this reason, I’m not going to rate this book, considering only the preface and first chapter were contained in the preview, and my review is going to be just about that as well. I’ll have to pick up the complete book at some point later.]

This said, I must admit I wouldn’t have requested it if I had noticed sooner it was a preview: I much prefer reading & reviewing full books. Oh, well.

I get the voluntarily provoking title, which is loaded in itself, but I guess that’s a good way of testing oneself and see if we want to read further. Examples given in the first chapter didn’t surprise me either, much unfortunately.

Obviously, being ‘white’, I can’t relate directly, however, for some of the examples, well, just replace ‘white’ and ‘black’ by ‘men’ and ‘women’, and you get pretty much a similar effect. (Yes, I know, ‘not all men…’, just like ‘not all whites…’, but as usual with that kind argument: it’s not the point.) I’m thinking here of the preface more specifically: “You can see their eyes shut down and harden. It’s like treacle is poured into their ears, blocking up their ear canals. It’s like they can no longer hear us.” Or “They’ve never had to think about what it means, in power terms, to be white, so any time they’re vaguely reminded of this fact, they interpret it as an affront. Their eyes glaze over in boredom or widen in indignation. Their mouths start twitching as they get defensive. Their throats open up as they try to interrupt, itching to talk over you but not really listen, because they need to let you know that you’ve got it wrong.” In other words, I can’t fully relate, but pushing myself to imagine what it must be like isn’t a big stretch; I got into similar conversations with patronising people who thought they were right because they had a penis instead of a vagina (hint: they weren’t).

Anyway.

Now, where I believe I can’t judge without having read it all, is because, for the moment, I can’t exactly tell in which direction the book is going. Is the title misleading, and the author does actually want dialogue? Or is it exactly what it says on the tin, and veering into ‘reverse racism’? (Note that as far as I’m concerned, racism is universal and goes every way and from any colour to anywards any colour, and it sucks, and I wish the human species as a whole would finally grow up, but then I suppose I’d also like to get a sports car and a penthouse in the City for my birthday, and it just won’t happen.)

So, yep… To be read fully later.