Home Is Not a Country
(Sprache: Englisch)
LONGLISTED FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARD
Nothing short of magic. Elizabeth Acevedo, New York Times bestselling author of The Poet X
...
Nothing short of magic. Elizabeth Acevedo, New York Times bestselling author of The Poet X
...
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LONGLISTED FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARDNothing short of magic. Elizabeth Acevedo, New York Times bestselling author of The Poet X
From the acclaimed poet featured on Forbes Africa s 30 Under 30 list, this powerful novel-in-verse captures one girl, caught between cultures, on an unexpected journey to face the ephemeral girl she might have been. Woven through with moments of lyrical beauty, this is a tender meditation on family, belonging, and home.
my mother meant to name me for her favorite flower
its sweetness garlands made for pretty girls
i imagine her yasmeen bright & alive
& i ache to have been born her instead
Nima wishes she were someone else. She doesn t feel understood by her mother, who grew up in a different land. She doesn t feel accepted in her suburban town; yet somehow, she isn't different enough to belong elsewhere. Her best friend, Haitham, is the only person with whom she can truly be herself. Until she can't, and suddenly her only refuge is gone.
As the ground is pulled out from under her, Nima must grapple with the phantom of a life not chosen the name her parents meant to give her at birth Yasmeen. But that other name, that other girl, might be more real than Nima knows. And the life Nima wishes were someone else's. . . is one she will need to fight for with a fierceness she never knew she possessed.
Lese-Probe zu „Home Is Not a Country “
The Airport once when i was small we packed a shared suitcase
of bright cotton floral prints & something yellow
& silken i d never seen my mother wear
& for the trip across the country she wore perfume
& her best red beaded scarf & we clattered
into the terminal my mother collecting all the light
a wedding on another coast its promises
of sunlight & gold & her scattered schoolmates
& cousins & faraway friends all crowded
into a rented hall making it with color
& incense & song our country
& it all shone in my mother s face
we approached the counter to check in the family
ahead of ours handed their boarding passes with a grin
before the agent turned to us & his smile clicked shut
said check-in is closed & no
there is nothing he can do
& no there is no manager to call & please can we leave
this counter is now closed
my mother s faltering voice the soft music in her english
her welling eyes her wilting face her beaded scarf
& all she said was please please i have a ticket
& i d never seen her so small english fleeing her mouth
& leaving her faltering frozen reaching for words
that would not come dabbing at her eyes
with the scarf its red so bright so festive
like it was mocking us
& all i could do was reach for the suitcase with one hand
her limp arm with the other & wheel us to the exit
& in our slow retreat i heard the last snatches
of that man s joke his colleague s barking
... mehr
laugh
no way we re letting
mohammed so-and-so near the plane
& that s why we don t go anywhere anymore
Mama
my mother is so often sad so often tired & wants mostly
to sit quietly in front of the television where we watch
turkish soap operas dubbed over in arabic
their sweeping landscapes & enormous romances
until she falls asleep
chin pointed into her chest & glasses askew
on bright days she plays music pitches her voice high
& sings along to all the ones we love abdel halim
& wardi & fairouz sayed khalifa & oum kalthoum
gisma s open throaty voice & frantic percussion
to which mama claps along tries sometimes to teach me
the dances the body formed like a pigeon s
the chest arced proudly upward head twisting helixes
against the neck in a surprise to no one i cannot dance
but love to watch her love that she tries anyway
to teach me
& sometimes rarely by some magic the movement
will click fluently into my body & she ll ululate & clap
while i twist my head in time to the song mama s voice
celebratory & trilling my nima my graceful girl
Haitham
is smaller than me three weeks
no way we re letting
mohammed so-and-so near the plane
& that s why we don t go anywhere anymore
Mama
my mother is so often sad so often tired & wants mostly
to sit quietly in front of the television where we watch
turkish soap operas dubbed over in arabic
their sweeping landscapes & enormous romances
until she falls asleep
chin pointed into her chest & glasses askew
on bright days she plays music pitches her voice high
& sings along to all the ones we love abdel halim
& wardi & fairouz sayed khalifa & oum kalthoum
gisma s open throaty voice & frantic percussion
to which mama claps along tries sometimes to teach me
the dances the body formed like a pigeon s
the chest arced proudly upward head twisting helixes
against the neck in a surprise to no one i cannot dance
but love to watch her love that she tries anyway
to teach me
& sometimes rarely by some magic the movement
will click fluently into my body & she ll ululate & clap
while i twist my head in time to the song mama s voice
celebratory & trilling my nima my graceful girl
Haitham
is smaller than me three weeks
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Safia Elhillo
Safia Elhillo is the author of the poetry collection The January Children, which received the the 2016 Sillerman First Book Prize for African Poets and a 2018 Arab American Book Award.Sudanese by way of Washington, DC, she holds an MFA from The New School, a Cave Canem Fellowship, and a 2018 Ruth Lilly and Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Fellowship from the Poetry Foundation. Safia is a Pushcart Prize nominee, co-winner of the 2015 Brunel International African Poetry Prize, and listed in Forbes Africa's 2018 "30 Under 30." She is a 2019-2021 Stegner Fellow at Stanford University.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Safia Elhillo
- Altersempfehlung: Ab 12 Jahre
- 2022, 224 Seiten, Maße: 13,8 x 20,9 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin Random House
- ISBN-10: 0593177088
- ISBN-13: 9780593177082
- Erscheinungsdatum: 02.04.2022
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Movingly unravels themes of belonging, Islamophobia, and the interlocking oppressions thrust upon immigrant women. Kirkus Reviews, starred review[A] surreal crash-course in perspective, agency, and self-love. Booklist, starred review
Artfully profound and achingly beautiful, Elhillo s verse aptly explores diasporic yearning for one s home and a universal fascination with possibilities. Publishers Weekly, starred review
"Elhillo's tender and descriptive writing may leave readers feeling the need to live life to the fullest [a] passionate, piercing YA collection of poems." Shelf Awareness, starred review
A love letter to anyone who has ever been an outsider, or searched to understand their history, no matter where they come from. NPR
"Richly imagined [...] An immersive experience of the intersectionality of gender, class, race, religion, and identity." The Horn Book
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