book review | As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow
Cover Designers: Sasha Illingworth and Patrick Hulse
Genre: YA Fiction, Historical Fiction
Salama Kassab was a pharmacy student when the cries for freedom broke out in Syria. She still had her parents and her big brother; she still had her home. She had a normal teenager’s life.
Now Salama volunteers at a hospital in Homs, helping the wounded who flood through the doors daily. Secretly, though, she is desperate to find a way out of her beloved country before her sister-in-law, Layla, gives birth. So desperate, that she has manifested a physical embodiment of her fear in the form of her imagined companion, Khawf, who haunts her every move in an effort to keep her safe.
But even with Khawf pressing her to leave, Salama is torn between her loyalty to her country and her conviction to survive. Salama must contend with bullets and bombs, military assaults, and her shifting sense of morality before she might finally breathe free. And when she crosses paths with the boy she was supposed to meet one fateful day, she starts to doubt her resolve in leaving home at all.
Soon, Salama must learn to see the events around her for what they truly are—not a war, but a revolution—and decide how she, too, will cry for Syria’s freedom.
*slight spoilers in paragraph 2 of this post*
My heart has been shattered and rebuilt. It's rare that a book makes my eyes water, my breath catch in my chest, my heart race, and my lips curve into a smile. Those are feelings that can only come from having an author share a piece of their heart so openly and honestly with the reader.
In the author's note Katouh states, "This book was very difficult to write..." After finishing, I realized how that statement translated into this being a very difficult book to read. And it should be. We must bear witness with pain and patience in the same way Ahmad did as he used his dying breaths to promise to tell God everything that the rest of the world couldn't see. That realization was also a reminder of my privilege. When things became too unbearable for the characters, I could simply close the book, put it down, walk away, and process. But that is a luxury that is not afforded to those going through the most unspeakable of atrocities at this very moment. And Syria is free, alhamdulillah, but as Salama's battles showed us, grief and trauma can fight to become part of a person forever.
My words, in this review, will never measure up to the immense feat that Katouh has accomplished. So this is not a review, but instead an expression of gratitude. Thank you Zoulfa Katouh for putting such raw feelings into words. Thank you for sharing the beauty and grace of Syrian culture. Thank you for the reminder that we should also hold space for hope in our hearts. Thank you for bringing the story of Syria and its resilience to us.
*I will end this by saying, it's been so so long since I've posted a review on here. I deeply missed writing love letters to my favorite books and putting them out there in the hope that I would reach someone out there. This book has shaken me to my core and helped me to find my voice again. I hope to keep writing and hope that you will read this and be moved to read the beautiful words that Katouh has given us.
