A Land Of Permanent Goodbyes
YA/adult fiction
"Tareq went to lay his sister down next to his mother when he
spotted the red car still clutched in her hand, Salim's toy that was
passed down from Tareq. A Matchbox sedan that would live in Tareq's
dreams and memories forever, connecting him to his days here and a
life that no longer existed."
Have you ever started a book, only to find out it's nearly too
heartbreaking to keep reading? That was my experience with Atia
Abawi's A Land Of Permanent Goodbyes. Of course I didn't have the
luxury of putting it down. I had to review it. All I can do for
people in war torn lands is keep my readers aware of their plight.
It's really on the edge of YA/adult. Read it yourself before
recommending it to any of the middle or high school crowd.
In a split second Tariq's life has been shattered. A bomb has
blown his home apart. His mother and grandmother, a little sister,
and twin baby brothers are known to be dead. The brother closest to
him in age, Salim, has disappeared. No one can say whether he escaped
or was pulverized beyond recognition.
Fayed, Tareq's father, decides to get his two surviving
children, Tareq and little Susan, out of Syria. The first stop on
their journey is the house of Fayed's older brother who has promised
to lend money for the trip. En route they behold human heads on metal
spikes. The next day Tareq and his cousin, Musa, are forced to
witness a public exacution.
Musa is sent with Tareq and his family. In Turkey the two boys
go ahead to Istanbul, leaving Fayed and Susan in a village near the
coast. Somehow, in a land where they cannot get work permits, they
must cobble enough money together from under the table odd jobs to get
their family to safety in Europe.
Please read the book if you can and help me to spread its
message. Syrian lives matter immensely. The United States needs to
do do much more on their behalf.
In homage to the sadness of this book there will be no personal note.
A great big shout out goes out to all who do their best to help
innocent war victims.
jules hathaway
Sent from my iPod
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