I'm halfway through, and I love this book! I find myself having to pause for a little bit and take it all in... filled with vivid imagery, description, and heartbreaking acceptance of oneself.

-1 too much happening
-1 Arabic customs/lifestyle not explained well
-1 story all over the place
+1 descriptions/imagery
+1 cover

I really wanted to love this book but it was struggle. The cover art is great and the title is catching. However, the book takes place largely in the Little Syria section of NYC with customs and culture that are not explained well are vague AF. The only saving grace as to why I suffered on hoping this would improve is the imagery. Transsexuals, ghosts, many birds; it was all over the place and this could have been great. I like strange books with weird ideas but this was beyond me, so cannot recommend. 2 stars is plenty generous.

Thanks to Netgalley, Zeyn Joukhadar and Atria Books for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Available: 11/3/20

Thank you to Netgalley and Atria Books.

There was a LOT going on here.. too much, actually.
I found myself skimming through much of it.
It’s a story of immigrants, transsexuals trying to belong, ghosts, the history of the “little Syria” area of New York, art, and birds... yes, lots of birds 🤦‍♀️
It started out good with the story of a young Syrian women who lost her mother in a fire five yrs prior.. she lives in New York with her grandmother and is taking care of her. This young woman does not feel comfortable in her body and identifies as a male.
After this, a second story starts of an artist who went missing in years past named Laila..so.., there’s also a mystery in this novel too..
Just too much going on for me. I hope all those that are eager to read this enjoy it though.. the writing itself was good.

Readers should expect to wake up from a deep sleep and reach for this book, wanting more. Chock full of evocative imagery, this incredibly personal journey of the struggles to find yourself and the place where you belong captured my attention from the first sentence to the last. Joukhadar conveys the incredibly complex struggle it takes—throughout every facet of a family’s multi-generational experience and the environment surrounding each person’s struggle to accept the self—with the mythology and magical realism surrounding the Syrian and immigrant experience. There are sentences in this amazing work that force you to come to a full stop, just to soak in every nuance that the author is trying to convey. I cannot wait to re-read, to see what I missed the first go-round. In a word, amazing.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for a free e-ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Lyrical, magical, painful, beautiful, fragile, necessary, hopeful...these are all words I would use to describe Zeyn Joukhadar's fantastic follow up to The Map Of Salt And Stars. Like his first novel, The Thirty Names of Night tells multiple stories--in this case the story of Laila, a young Syrian refugee and artist who comes to the United States early in the 20th century, and a young transgender man (we don't learn his name until he names himself late in the book as a way of creating his new identity) who is struggling with grief and the inability to make art, five years after the tragic death of his mother, a famous ornithologist, in a fire.

There is a theme of poetry and birds throughout the novel, intertwined with both storylines. The storytelling is lovely, the characters are real and representative, and the descriptions of New York City, particularly Little Syria (a place I had never heard of before) made me feel like I was standing on the streets of the city.

This story begins exactly five years after the loss of the narrator’s mother, and on this night New York City will see forty-eight sparrows fall from the sky. The narrator sits on the roof of Teta’s, his grandmother, apartment building, observing the sky as birds drop, individually, one at a time. Thinking of his mother, how everything since then has changed, how even their grieving has changed, and how it has changed them. The remnants of her life that she left behind have become so precious, he hides the things she left behind, the tokens that were so prized by her have become their only tangible means of remembering, and of grieving.

The narrator goes unnamed for a while, a young transgender boy who eventually chooses his new name as Nadir, an Arabic name meaning rare. And while this is, essentially, a story about him and his journey as an artist as well as the journey to becoming himself, it is also the story of the struggles of all transgender people who wish to be accepted, as well as all immigrants who also see themselves as excluded from being among those self-designated as “we the people.” Particularly, in this story, Syrian immigrants, their struggles, and those of their descendants.

There is a haunting quality to this story, both through the lyrical, poetic quality of the writing and the story itself, the ongoing dialogue to the narrator’s mother, the discoveries that are revealed as this story is unveiled, and the search for more understanding of who his mother was beyond being only his mother also leads him to a discovery of a diary kept by his mother’s favourite artist, a woman who was known for her illustrations of birds. When he discovers the artist’s journal in an old tenement building, he discovers so much more than he anticipated.

This is such a thought-provoking story, connecting so many aspects of life, of living a life that feels honest to how we see ourselves – who we are, of these invisible connections we come across unexpectedly to others, to our culture and family histories, the connections that we create that allow us to more fully embrace ourselves, our lives. Life.

An aura of a poetic, inspired folktale permeates these pages, the prose creates such a moving atmosphere that really never seems to fade, but instead intensifies as this story unfolds.

A dazzlingly enchanted story about living your truth, and discovering the beauty that can be found.


Pub Date: 03 Nov 2020

Many thanks for the ARC provided by Atria Books

A wonderful blend of genres, fantasy, historical, coming of age and so much more. Beautiful story.

Genre: LGBTQ/Historical Fiction
Publisher: Atria Books
Pub. Date: November 3, 2020

There is so much going on in this beautifully written novel. You will meet artists and three generations of Syrian American women. You will learn about French-occupied Syria during the early twentieth century, as well as a long-forgotten NYC neighborhood called Little Syria. You will also read about birds and ghosts. The author mixes up the genres. There is historical fiction, literary fiction, magical realism, coming-of-age, speculative fiction, and always LGBTQ fiction. All the main characters in this novel are queer. There are two alternating narrators, one from the late 1920s and one from the present. In the present, we meet a young trans man, who moves into his grandmother’s NYC apartment to take care of her since her health is failing. In the past, the female protagonist is also an artist. She paints mysterious birds. The three generations of Syrian Americans are linked together by their secrets, their art, and—here is the magical realism—a species of a bird that wears feathers that seem to hold the key to unlocking their secrets and allowing the characters to break free from society’s restrictions.

When the author wrote his debut novel, “Map of Salt,” he identified as a woman. He now identifies as a man. I mention this in light of the fact that the trans male protagonist talks about his confusion from when he was a child feeling extremely uncomfortable in his female body. This is written with such lucidity that one cannot help but wonder how much is fiction. The scene where the character gets his period is all-telling and so heartbreakingly sad. The child is devastated because, up until that moment, he held out hope that his true body as a male would surface. As his body conspires against him, his delighted mother says that her little girl is growing up. She tells the child that he is a woman now. To add to the child’s confusion, although he hates the feeling that his body is betraying him, he simultaneously loves the feeling of closeness that he is experiencing as his beloved mother braids his hair, sharing female pearls of wisdom now that he has a woman’s body. (When the girl grows to be the young man his mother is deceased but shows up as a ghost that he can see and talk to. It reads more sweet than weird). The author writes the child’s conflicting emotions so well that he makes you want to jump into the pages and give the child the word non-binary. My maternal instincts had me crying for the boy.

Overall, I enjoyed the Syrian immigrant experience as observed in the novel. As a native New Yorker, I loved the descriptions of Little Syria, which sounded like an Arab version of NYC’s Little Italy. I could have done without the birds, but then again I have never been a fan of magical realism. However, I did think it was clever of the author to make the trans man’s mother an ornithologist to keep the magic as believable as possible. At times, there was just too much going on in the story to hold my interest. I found myself skimming to get back to the Syrian-American experience, but then again, historical fiction is my favorite genre. There is no denying Joukhadar’s talent as an author. The book could have easily been written as a boring teacher’s manual on all the themes in the novel that many of us do need to be educated on. Instead, what you get is lyrical prose that is captivating as well as educational. Still, for someone like myself who has trouble with mixed genre novels, the book wasn’t for me. Though, I feel confident that other readers and reviewers will consider it a story-telling feat.

This is a complicated, beautiful novel. I’m not sure that a plot summary can do it justice. It’s about an artistic Syrian American trans boy who sneaks out of his grandmother’s apartment to paint murals in Little Syria, a Manhattan neighborhood well-past its glory days. When he enters an abandoned house one night, he finds a journal belonging to Laila Z, a Syrian American artist who spent her career painting North American birds. When reading the journal, he discovers a surprising connection between the artist and his deceased mother, tying their pasts together and revealing a rich history of queer and transgender Syrian Americans. Finally feeling seen by his community, he claims a new name: Nadir. With a little bit of supernatural magic and a lot of heart, Nadir learns about family, survival, and himself on a coming-of-age journey.

"The Thirty Names of Night" is a novel that centers around the themes of grief -- of people and places lost, but also of overcoming that grief by finding new people, new places, and new identities.

In an intricate plot, Joukhadar tells the story through two points of view. The first is a nameless (named Nadir much later in the book) young man who was born a woman, but struggles to embrace this identity fully and openly with their family. The second is an artist named Laila Z who is famous for her sketches of a mysterious bird. Laila's point of view is told through a series of letters to a lost lover simply named "B". Their paths cross when Nadir discovers Laila's notebook in an old abandoned tenement building and hopes it will be able to connect him to his dead mother, who sought after the painting of this mysterious bird.

Are you confused? I was for quite some time, too! The hardest part about this book to me was the structure of the plot and the establishment of conflict. It was difficult to determine what the central conflict was, and when I finally settled on it around the halfway mark, I wasn't too convinced by it. I appreciated Laila's journal entries much more because they were easier to follow and her character was better developed. And perhaps because it's summer and my "academic" brain is on hiatus, but I didn't think the bird motif was entirely believable or well executed. I liked that it linked the plot lines together, but there were times when the events revolving around birds read more like magical realism, and times when I just couldn't handle any more. It made it hard to suspend disbelief and read this story as realistic fiction.

The writing style is laudable, and last half of the book was engaging, with a satisfying ending. I especially appreciated what Joukhadar did with the relationships in this novel -- they were realistic and swoon-worthy without being too much. In the end, this could have been a five star book for me if the exposition was written a little more smoothly, but it would still be worth a read in my opinion.

Rating: 4.0
Thank you NetGalley for an advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

This book was compelling and moving all in one. It brought me to tears and made me laugh out loud, though there were mostly tears. It deals with important and relevant topics such as: racism, homophobia, grief, loss, etc., and does so in a beautiful manner.

This book is about a trans Syrian boy whose mother dies in a fire, which is deemed a hate crime, and now her ghost visits him throughout his life. He is currently living in New York where he takes care of his elderly grandmother. Throughout the book, he continues to search and discover his identity as two beautiful stories are weaved together to help him unearth his culture’s history as well as his own.

After a fire killed his mother, a Syrian American trans boy takes on a different name. Since his mother's ghost has been visiting him, he's been unable to make his art. Isolated in his grandmother's apartment, he avoids his neighborhood masjid, his sister and his best friend. Taking the time to go out at night is the one time he feels free. Painting murals on buildings in Manhattan is his escape. When he finds a journal of an artist named Laila Z, he discovers his connection to her. He finds comfort in her own relationship with queerness and Syrian culture. He finds his name: Nadir. Secrets and mysteries unfold in Zeyn Joukhadar's magical and haunting novel.

A beautifully written novel a novel that I will not forget.The characters the atmosphere the emotions.I shed many tears read late into the night .I will be reading all this new to me authors books.Highly recommending.#netgalley#atriabooks

This was a magical heartbreaking book. I loved reading it, but be warned - it's got a lot of tears in it if you're a cryer.

This is an absolutely gorgeous book which cements Zeyn Joukhadar as one of my favorite authors. I had previously read The Map of Salt and Stars as part of a group read, and loved it as well. However, this book surpasses that one in its beauty and depth. We get two storylines: that of the main character, a transgender young adult who talks about their relationship with their grandmother and their mother who had passed away. We also hear of the story of one the mother's friends (they were both artists), and how her story is connected. The language is gorgeous, the book is deep with feeling, and it does not gloss over important issues impacting the life of Syrian immigrants in New York and a transgender young person. As well, the book was richly atmospheric in terms of its portrayal of sense of place, in New York and elsewhere. This is a new favorite!

This book combines ornithology, art, immigration, and gender identity into a multigenerational mystery. Five years after the tragic death of his mother, a still grieving Nadir sets out to find the rare bird that his mother was obsessed with and unravels a family secret.

I loved the overall themes and the storyline of Zeyn Joukhadar’s second book! The main character is a trans Syrian-American boy who takes care of his beloved aged grandmother in a New York City apartment. Five years ago, he lost his ornithologist mother in a fire in a building Now, her ghost visits him in the evenings. With her death still encompassing him and the weight of his own life’s journey as a trans boy, he spends lonely hours in his apartment, stepping out in the evenings with close friends who are part of his tribe. When he finds the journal of Laila, a Syrian-American artist who vanished sixty years ago in the community building, we are presented with a second storyline - and chapters go back and forth between now and then (similar the author’s The Map of Salt and Stars - except that novel’s time gap is hundreds of years apart). Coincidentally, both his mother and Laila seemed to have experienced the same rare bird - years apart. As he undergoes his very personal journey of moving in his trans world, he follows the mysterious trail of Laila and her world leading to the intersection of their collective communities and worlds. As the story unfolds, community is an essential ingredient in both past and present - we learn about the Syrian-American community in the U.S. and the strong bonds of Syrian-American families - home life, socialization, livelihoods, and religious. Throughout the book, the imagery of birds plays an important role - whether it’s the sighting of a bird or birds before an event, a precious feather, or a bird “accident” - all are symbolic and add to the cadence of the story. While I enjoyed all aspects of the book, there was a lot going on at any given time that it felt it was sometimes overflowing at the seams with all that the author wanted to share. It’s probably why I felt that this book didn’t move as seamlessly and as perfectly as The Map of Salt and Stars, which I loooved and have listened to three times! Having said that, it shouldn’t take away from the book, which is definitely a well-deserved read and one I would recommend. Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the opportunity to read and review this book.

Zeyn Joukhadar’s first novel, The Map of Salt and Stars, was one of my favorite books of 2018, so I was eager to read his second, The Thirty Names of Night. I was not disappointed!

Like his first novel, this one weaves two stories together: one historical, and the other contemporary. Here, we don’t learn the name of the contemporary protagonist until he names himself Nadir in his transition to the gender he knows in his heart. The historical protagonist is Laila, a painter and Syrian immigrant woman who traveled to the midwest United States from New York during the Great Depression and later vanished without a trace. The commonality between the stories is the ghost of Nadir’s mother, an ornithologist who sought a painting of a rare bird by Laila. Nadir follows his mother’s quest and finds the artist’s journal, where he reads about Laila’s first love, a girl she left behind in Syria when she came to the United States.

Joukhadar writes beautifully, illuminating heartbreaking things as he weaves and spins his story, so that his readers can bear witness to these important but often ignored voices. I am so glad that he did.

Some quotes:

“I catch myself remembering that he carves each moment of joy from the jaws of a world that seeks, every day, to devour him. Sometimes I remember this is true of both of us, and then to believe in something, let alone joy, seems a lonely tightrope walk.”

“How different the world would look if it had any mercy towards migrations undertaken as a last resort against annihilation.”

“It is terrifying to be visible, and then I think, I have been waiting all my life to be seen.”

In "The Thirty Names of Night," Zeyn Joukhadar does so many things that other books attempt - and does them all so well. The book is representative - centering on a Syrian community and narrated by a trans individual whose family immigrated from Lebanon. The story is mysterious with hints of magical realism; ghosts both real and imagined haunt tenements and diaries and hearts. The natural history underpinning the birds that flit through the text, feathers loaded with light, is as authentic as the discussion of art, giving the story an authenticity that fiction strives for but rarely finds. Finally, the prose is breathtaking in its beauty, brushing up against the edge of poetry. It's a thoughtful book - a sit down and take it in book - but worth the time.

I haven't had the pleasure of reading anything by this author before but I absolutely need to get my hands on their previous book. This is fantastic , heart wrenching, poignant and beautiful. I wish I could gather my words in a way that I felt properly represented this incredible novel. Full of sadness and longing, and happiness, it made my week heart wrenching but also so much better.