From Publishers Weekly
Mired in political rhetoric, this alarming first novel by a Jordanian native tracks a Palestinian terrorist, his girlfriend and his Israeli interrogator. The subject matter--a terrorist's thought processes, his lethal acts (including the murder of nine Israeli settlers), capture, torture and attendant plunge into madness--is potentially gripping, but Faqir repeatedly proffers graceless, simplistic agitprop instead of careful plotting or characterizations. David, the Israeli interrogator, is a tormented Holocaust survivor, a caricature here whose pleasure is watching a "prisoner's skin change from red-crimson-purple to indigo. When the left side of the body became a mixture of black and purple he would switch to the right. The ultimate was an even colour all over." To Faqir, the Palestinians are like nisanit blossoms: able to survive the heat, the desert flower takes so deep a hold in the ground that it can't be rooted out. Shadeed the terrorist ruminates on peace: "It would never spread over their country until these aggressors stopped polluting their air." His relationship with Eman develops at a fairy-tale-fast gallop; her father, a Palestinian, was hanged in a failed coup to overthrow the Democratic State of Ishmael--apparently Jordan--and Eman believes that she is doomed to lose everyone she loves.
Copyright 1990 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Review
A major writer . . . an extraordinary book --
Malcolm Bradbury on the hardback coverFaqir is never so crass as to attempt to empathise with either terrorism or torture to the point of justifying either --
'The ridicule and laughter of women', the Independent Newspaper, 3 December, 1987 by Margaret ForsterFaqir's talent is evident in her ability to make the reader cringe for both tortured and torturer --
'The ridicule and laughter of women', the Independent Newspaper, 3 December, 1987 by Margaret ForsterIn Nisanit she [Fadia Faqir} succeeds in showing that Israelis also have a heart --
World Literature Today, Spring 1991