“and there had been thousands upon thousands of them, without homes, without parents, some too young to remember their own names. and these were the lucky ones, the ones who had survived. land of armenians, land of orphans.”

war is tedious. it destroys all in its path, without a care for people or buildings, animals or plants, but it is tedious. it builds an eerie lull, a monotony of life that is interrupted by a sudden blast. war happens around you, and yet you must still go to work or go to school, you still share a drink with your friends on a balcony, you still bicker with your siblings and you still have to plan for the future, until the next blast makes that future feel uncertain yet again.

kricorian’s prose is emotional and deeply vivid. in her author notes and acknowledgments she spoke of visiting lebanon and seeing the streets for herself, and it certainly is reflected in the descriptions of the buildings, the bustle of people, the heat of the sun. vera is such a beautiful protagonist, a girl whose ptsd is elevated by what appears to be anxiety, and a war that haunts her half the world away. she was so deeply, deeply empathetic for all life, you couldn’t help but cherish every page with her. the family dynamic was lively, each relationship fleshed out so well in such a short span of pages.

“the burning heart of the world” is really a love letter to both lebanon and armenians who had to flee their homes and carve out a new space for themselves. it’s not directly about the armenian genocide, but it lingers, following the family for generations, all the way to new york nearly a hundred years later. war is monotonous, and slow, and destructive, and it never really leaves you behind.

Book review: 4/5 ⭐️
Genre: fiction
Themes: Armenian diaspora, inherited trauma, displacement, family
📖 Read if you like: What Strange Paradise, The Boat People, Transcendent Kingdom

This is an emotional tale of a Beirut Armenian family before, during and after the Lebanese Civil War. It has an almost visceral quality of writing. My body and mind responded to the dangers and the carried trauma inherited through intergenerational displacement and war. It was like a little stone that settled into my soul, a vice that squeezed now and again, leavened by the joys of a child and first love. It manages to paint the Armenian diaspora with both a raw and tactile form, while also creating the ethereal dreamlike state of folk stories.

At its heart it is the tale of one family that could be many. It starts in NYC just after the 9/11 attacks. One horrific landscape that triggers another buried to memory. A childhood in Lebanon that rapidly turns from idyllic to one of bomb shelters and checkpoints, to senseless murders and bias. A civil war that robbed many families a place to call home, especially those that had already lost one in the mountains of Hadjin. A grandmother’s story of being forced to leave her home in a march of orphans. It is a heavy a burden that must be carried by those who survived.

The Serinossians are an ordinary family in that they have squabbles, boisterous family dinners and sibling rivalries. They also share lived experiences they do not wish to speak of. Vera is the eldest child and only daughter of this family and this is her story, and the story of her people. It is both sweet and heartbreaking. A need for therapy and cathartic in the storytelling itself. For such a heavy topic, the narrative manages to balance the dark with the sweetness of childhood. The bombs flying overhead with the poetic joy of friendship and family.

This was eye opening for I knew little about the history of the Armenian displacement, but more than that I found it a beautiful piece of storytelling on how trauma is created, carried and inherited. Yet, that does not stop a beautiful life from blooming in the ravages of war. Opposing elements combine to make this sweet and a tear jerker.

Thank you to NetGalley and Red Hen Press for an advanced copy of this book.

Thank you to Red Hen Press and to NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this title!

It’s truly difficult to know where to start this review. We’re given two deeply unique viewpoints into Vera’s life, firstly when we see how she struggles in a post 9/11 world, and then earlier in her life when we learn why her struggles run so deep. Kricorian’s lyrical prose kept me engaged, enthralled, and ran my heart to ruin throughout Vera’s story. My heart ached and still aches for Vera in all phases of her life - simple anxieties about a crush and keeping a cousin’s secrets, to knowing how to take care of both yourself and your family in a world you no longer understand.

The family ties in this book rang especially poignant to me and I loved the determination to stay together and survive that echoed through generations. Vera will stay with me in my heart, and I am very grateful to Nancy Kricorian for opening my eyes to a story and a struggle I previously knew nothing about.

Thank you to NetGalley for this Advence Reader’s copy.

This book was very lyrical and i enjoyed learning a little bit about Armenia and its history .
This books navigate between the present and the past of Vera’s life. It explained, how it was to live your childhood with war and what repercussions it has on you even later in life. It explains how the trauma of the war is never really healed and how, even the smallest thing, can make you feel unsafe all over again.
I just wish, i could have read more about Vera in the US, to know how she would have handle this new challenge in her life.