I went from reading a fairy tale to a grim reminder of just how miserable many women’s lives really are. I “met” Rukhsana Khan last year during the Writers Against Racism series; she tried to explain then how she wrote stories with messages that are implied rather than made glaringly apparent. Now that I’ve read Wanting Mor, I *think* I understand what she meant. I think. In this novel we have a girl who’s got a few things in common with the Cinderella-esque protagonist of Ash; Jameela loses her beloved mother and is left in the care of her father–a trifling kind of man who has a bad temper that’s made worse by his drug and alcohol use. Jameela already knows better than to get in his way, and has learned to meet his needs before her own; any kindness from her father is welcome but rare, and so it’s no surprise that he embarks on a journey from the countryside to big city Kabul that in no way improves Jameela’s circumstances. Like Ash, Jameela often finds herself sleeping on the kitchen floor after laboring all day as a servant in her father’s friends’ home. When they’re thrown out after he drunkenly makes improper advances on his friend’s wife (who’s also drunk), Jameela finds herself in a worse situation—with an actual stepmother who mistreats her and ultimately harasses her father into a desperate act: after telling Jameela to pack her things, her father leads her into the crowded marketplace and abandons her. Though she finds temporary comfort with a friendly family, Jameela is ultimately deposited at the local orphanage where, at last, things start to look up. Though the orphanage is crowded and in ill repair, Jameela finally receives the education she craves and soon becomes a teacher’s aide. She also has her cleft lip restored by a US army surgeon, and so gains some self-confidence. What makes this novel tricky for me is the challenge of separating Jameela’s religion from her culture—specifically, her “home training”; throughout the book she’s an undoubtedly pitiable character, but that doesn’t automatically make her likable. She admits that she looks down her nose at women who don’t dress or act as modestly as she believes they should; Jameela has been taught—by her mother—how to conduct herself as a Muslim woman, and those are lessons she holds dear. This novel seems to save its harshest critique for the women in Jameela’s community who fail to show modesty, religious devotion, compassion, and deference to men. When a kind butcher considers taking Jameela in, it is his wife who refuses his plan; the head of the girls’ orphanage is a woman who wears a loose, sheer head covering (porani) and sucks up to foreigners in order to get much-needed aid for the children. Her stepmother’s a heartless, selfish witch who wears revealing clothes, and the first woman Jameela stays with in Kabul wears too much make-up and “tight, short” Western dresses. The only truly kind woman in the book is a teacher, Khalaa Kareema, who wears a chadri (burka); she demonstrates true modesty and kindness, and Jameela ends up modeling herself after this woman. Jameela notes that on the way to the market, men go out of their way to avoid her since she’s fully covered, and she triumphs when her uncovered friend (“The Taliban’s gone, you know”) is groped in the street. At the end of the novel, Jameela’s strong enough to reject her father’s efforts to reclaim her, but she’s still likely to be exploited by the orphanage headmistress who claims they might be able to pay her for teaching “someday.” Jameela’s closest friend marries INTO her stepmother’s dysfunctional family (after seeing Jameela’s stepbrother ONCE), and Jameela takes charge of an orphan girl desperate for love—but by teaching her the lessons she once learned from her mother: “If you can’t be beautiful, you should at least be good. People will appreciate that.” Hmm. This novel definitely shows a perspective we don’t often see in YA literature, and I’d be interested to know how teenage girls in the US respond to a character like Jameela. Will they see her as empowered? Or brainwashed? In some ways this novel reminded me of So Long a Letter by Mariama Ba; that story follows the friendship of two Muslim women in Senegal who both find themselves betrayed by their husbands (who acquire younger second wives after decades of marriage). I always make sure to point out that Rama rejects the hypocrisy of her husband, but *not* her religion—he is to blame, not Islam. Yet it’s very difficult to distinguish between religious beliefs/interpretations and the cultural practices they inspire. I’ve been reading up on Rastafarian culture, specifically the role of women, and I’ve come across some things that make me uncomfortable. Why would women choose to adopt practices that seem designed to limit their personal power? Am I betraying my own feminist principles by condoning their right to make whatever choice they want—even if I disagree? I became a feminist in large part b/c I realized my mother was a woman who subscribed to patriarchy. But women transmit culture—what if I hadn’t figured that out, and instead modeled myself after her? Yikes! Wanting Mor is an unsettling story, but one definitely worth sharing with any teen readers you know.
reality check
January 11, 2010 by elliottzetta
Posted in education, family, multicultural literature, race & gender, reviews, young adult novels | 14 Comments
14 Responses
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This is a really interesting review. I do want to read Wanting Mor and this review made me even more curious, I too don’t always understand why women follow practices that limit their personal power (I had orginally thought this about the hijab, until I was corrected by Does My Head Look Big in This? A testimony to the impact and importance of books).
Currently, I think Jameela doesn’t sound too empowered, but i’ll wait and see.
I’d love to know what you think of it, Ari, and I’ll look for the title you mentioned. It’s challenging to be outside of a culture and *not* be judgmental…yet there has to be an ethical bottom line somewhere, I think…
I *love* your reviews. I come here when I want to get the *real* scoop–as in the feminist, anti-racist, activist, no-holds-barred truth scoop. I haven’t read this book, but I will check it out. Even if it sounds like I could have an issue–or two–with it. Also loved reading your take on ASH. Another book I haven’t read, but is on my pile.
What timing: I just finished Wanting Mor and also have a review to write. I could simply write “See Zetta’s Review” and have readers who would be so much more satisfied!
It’s easy for us to put our cultural perspective on other’s practices. We might see women who are restricted, but we’re outsiders. The young girls I met in Saudi Arabia loved hiding their pajamas and blue jeans underneath their abayas on their way to school. They were free to be who they wanted and no one else got to see. When you grow up with a particular practice or habit, it’s so much who you are that you don’t necessarily question it unless provoked to do so.
Hey, Edi! I want to hear YOUR perspective so I hope you do write about this book. If Jameela had grown up wearing the burka, that would have been one thing, but she chooses to wear it *after* being educated by a kind woman at the orphanage (who also wears a burka). Now, when President Sarkozy over in France started talking about banning the burka as a way of protecting women’s rights, I objected–how dare he tell women how to dress! My issue with the character in this book is that she seems to look down on women who don’t share her choice…and her privileging of “goodness” over beauty leaves me wondering just what “being good” means to her…it’s hard for me to support certain definitions of good behavior in women and girls, esp when the punishment for “bad behavior” can be so arbitrary and severe…
“I *love* your reviews. I come here when I want to get the *real* scoop–as in the feminist, anti-racist, activist, no-holds-barred truth scoop”
Love that.
Jameela modeled herself a lot after her mother who taught her strict Muslim customs.
Jameela’s mom was all she had. Her father was worthless. The way the story started it felt as if Jameela lived a sheltered life. Making it easier for Jameela to jude overs and harder to understand another way.
I can’t fault Jameela for judging everyone because if what they are doing is okay that meant her mom wasn’t right.
With everything that was going on Jameela’s mom could not be wrong.
There was no one their to teach Jameela that what she was doing was wrong, that its okay if people do something a different way.
Zetta and Neesha – you two should get together and review a movie.
I agree, Doret, except her mother–as far as we know–taught Jameela to wear a porani (headscarf) *not* the full burka…so we have to attribute that to Jameela–it’s her choice, a choice she has the right to make, but it wasn’t her custom.
what a great review — have got to read this one, it sounds too food-for-thoughty to miss.
also, i think you and neesha should get together and *write* a movie…
Neesha *is* a filmmaker by training…as for me, I still can’t upload the videos I make! but film is definitely in the future…
Huh, you know, I keep getting drawn to this cover when I’m either at the library or the bookstore but for some reason or another I never end up bring it with me to the counter to checkout/buy… Clearly I must have been crazy all those times and will remember to pick it up the next time I see it. I’m particularly interested in seeing how I would interpret Jameela’s character growth throughout the novel.
I read this and like Doret, I see Jameela in the context of her circumstances and culture. I think the writer gives an honest and realistic and very modern by the way of how some Muslim women see themselves. I prefer this to a version that is more aligned with my Western views.
And while Jameela is judgmental she does grow. She comes to love and care for her friend who does not share her conservative values or adherence to their religion. She also breaks from her father and chooses an alternative life as a single, employed woman. Jameela has chosen her destiny.
There are many of us who are Christian, but we are also pro-choice. We reject homophobia. I think Khan shows there are varying shades of how Muslims practice and live as well.
Jameela emulates the strongest, most positive figure in her life. Her mother believed in modesty but that didn’t mean her mother believed in abuse or that she didn’t think for herself. She married a non practicing Muslim but she didn’t abandoned her faith unlike her husband. To me, this suggests Mor held on and practice what mattered most to her and that is empowering.
I think that if we’re going to use our own measuring stick for what it means to be empowered then we inevitably are going to find others coming up short often.
Many of us have rejected parts of our mother’s thinking and living but many of these same women were also the strongest women we knew or in some way it was because of them we saw how limiting a woman’s life could be.
In much of the multicultural literature I read, I find girls and women who find ways to exert themselves within the context of the culture and circumstances. They find purpose, love and happiness within what they know and I find that empowering. And as undesirable as we may find some customs, there are women find comfort in their traditions. Jameela liked how she looked in the mirror. She also liked being free of being looked at. There was no reason to cover her lip but she felt wearing the burka was her way of choosing who and when others had access to her.
I think it is serves any of us to think women have to reject culture or religion completely in order to live a life a woman finds fulfilling. And I can respect a life a woman chooses for herself in spite finding aspects of that life objectionable to me.
I read the book, and I really like how Khan tried to focus on Jameela’s story, not the story Westerners would like to read. I found her attitudes very believable, if not always what I’d want young women to hold. Yes, most of the people she disapproved of were women, but she only felt comfortable looking at women.
I appreciated the nuances, such as Jameela’s confliction about covering her face after her surgery.
Hi Zetta!
I only just found your review here, and I must say, I’m not surprised! I thought more people would find Jameela very judgemental, as judgemental as I did!
When I was writing WANTING MOR, I’d often cringe at Jameela’s perceptions. She’s so narrow-minded, but then her experience is so limited and honestly she couldn’t be anything but.
This is one reason that I started a sequel. I think the story is not done.
Unfortunately other projects have come up in between, so I’m not sure when I’ll get back to it.
Thanks for your comments!!! I really appreciate them.
And you take care!
Hey, Rukhsana! Thanks for stopping by and chiming in…just this morning I thought to myself, “What if Jameela met an Afghan woman who was a human rights attorney?” I’m glad to hear you’re working on a sequel b/c folks had a LOT to say about your book and I’d be interested to see Jameela’s continued evolution into womanhood…I think a lot of readers are *afraid* to critique her, but I see Jameela making very deliberate decisions–she’s not powerless, and yet the way she uses what limited power she has…well, it’s complicated. I look forward to reading the sequel!