Book: Crescent

Author: Diana Abu Jaber
Publisher:

Diana Abu Jaber, of Arab and Irish-German descent, raised between the United states and Jordan, has a flair for imaginative writing which is rarely seen today. Her second published novel, “Crescent” is set in Los Angeles, with unresolved memories and longing as the backdrop.
The curtain is raised with the lines “the sky is white. The sky shouldn’t be white because...nothing is as black and ancient as the night in Baghdad”. Enriched by descriptions such as these, the story gracefully fluctuates between reality and the world of fables, between LA and Baghdad, allowing each character to gradually introduce itself.
Sirine, a young Iraqi-American chef, raised by her uncle, surrounded by endearing loyal friends is summed up as a woman “born with an ability to live deeply and purely…and to simply exist inside the simplest actions, like chopping an onion”. Her passion, her solace is her cooking and the magic she weaves comforts lonely Arab students who crowd round Um-Nadia’s café because it reminds them of home. It is her vulnerability which catches Hanif’s eye and draws the audacious poet Aziz towards her at the reading, prophesizing the turn of events which is yet to come.
Diana has the ability to use poetic language, symbols and insinuations to carry the story forward. This novel reads like a film, in the sense that, her poignant descriptions of the characters, their emotions and the ambience, brings Nadia’s café and all its patrons, to life.
The story is enriched by mystery, unpredictability and the need for secrecy and unexpressed emotions, which is why Sirine never hears the truth from Hanif, she pieces it together, clue by clue. Diana ties in each character’s past and how it dictates their lives and the irony of Nathan, Hanif and Sirine’s relationships.
Sirine who “never quite understood how people could trade in quiet spaces and the delicious rhythms of work for the fearful tumult of falling in love”, eventually surrenders herself to Hanif, despite the unbridgeable gulf between them. At the same time, we begin to question Nathan’s fascination with Hanif, Aziz’s carelessness, and the relentless Aunt Camille, who perform well as the supporting cast. Sirine’s uncle narrates Salahadin’s spiritual tale of drowning, enchantment and self discovery, in bits and pieces, running parallel to the ebb and flow of the main characters of this story.
Diana brings the story full circle by the end, carefully filling in all the gaps and crevices, explaining why Nathan was tormented by his trip to Iraq, why Hanif blamed himself for what happened to his family, and why Sirine is fated for a tempestuous journey in love.
The brooding restless Hanif, wandering, searching for peace of mind, returns to Baghdad to face his past. Hanif’s struggle, or shall we say Salahadin’s quest, culminates in an escape through the desert, putting to rest the haunting memories, the photographs, the inescapable pull that led them there. The story is deliberately unravelled, relying on dramatic descriptions and irony, recreating the ethos of self-exiled Arab people, which Diana pens down without apology. A tale of love and human conflict, of sea-nymphs and the wisdom of the ghazal, as each character, afforded a place in the story, is unique and each event has a history and a meaningful consequence. A story that can be read, over and over, each time finding something new and each read illustrating the significance of Salahadin’s tale, which will you pensive, long after the novel has ended.