Exit West: A Novel Hardcover – March 7, 2017

The first thing brought to mind as I read this phenomenal novel by Mohsin Hamid was Bob Dylan's song, 'A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall'. I especially remembered these lines though so much of Dylan's song is applicable to this novel: I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fallThe novel begins with Saaeed meeting Nadia. Theirs is love at first sight. They are living in a war-strewn nation and the only way to escape is through 'doors', doors that come and doors that go, doors of light and doors of dark, real doors and metaphorical ones. As time goes by, the doors are getting harder to find and more precious to access since everyone wants to leave. The identity of their first nation is never revealed but it could be any impoverished and chaotic place where the rule of law no longer exists and the mighty bow to the sword.Saaeed gives the impression, at first, that he is a liberated man, but it is Nadia, despite wearing a burka and dressing all in black, that is the real feminist. They find a door that leads them to Mykonos, a Greek Island. They stay for a while, even attaining their own room, but then decide to try a new door. Door after door - immigration from one vast and frightening locale to another, no door leading to peace and salvation, no door leading to safety and beauty. All doors have their risks and yet these two young people feel compelled to leave one place after another. Are they searching for something that is impossible to find or are they victims of a myth, a living allegory to Heraclitus's belief that one can never step into the same river twice.I found this book compelling, a vast and deliberate myth of migration, such as the travels of certain birds, fish, and mammals. Some travel to reproduce while other travel to end their lives. There is an innate desire to travel in order to begin or end one's life. I also viewed it as an allegory of our time, a novel of the cruelty and inhumane aspects of any place one might land on this earth. Despite hope, despite desperation, neither of the protagonists really knew what they wanted or what they were looking for.There is certainly the adventure of youth, the desire to escape cruelty and have one's basic needs met but there is more than that. And what that more consists of is the basis question of this novel. Is it love? Is it beauty? Is it peace? Is it freedom? For every reader, there will be a different answer. My initial thoughts are that the answer rests with knowledge, that through knowledge we gain experience, and from experience, we gain wisdom.As Mr. Dylan so articulately states at the end of his poem/song when he asks his son what he'll do no, he is answered by this refrain: I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest Where the people are many and their hands are all empty Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison Where the executioner's fact is always well hidden Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten Where black is the color, where none is the number And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breath it And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin' But I'll know my song well before I start singin' And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall

Mohsin Hamid opens his story in a fictitious nation resembling an amalgam of Syria, Afghanistan, Libya and Yemen where distant revolts in the countryside soon engulf an entire nation and where every citizen has to find a way out.Saeed and Nadia are two such people who are able to work around the growing chaos and death until Saeed’s mother is brutally murdered. They hear of a black door nearby, one so dark that even light can’t penetrate it, which can somehow transport them immediately to another location on the globe. But as this door and others like it begin to appear so also do governmental soldiers who try to restrict or forbid access to those deemed undesirable by destination lands. Payment becomes a necessity to enter through newly created ones and nobody leaving knows just exactly where they’ll end up and in what condition.In a way we are all migrants, refugees, always seeking better conditions, hoping for better futures, looking for an ideal just beyond the horizon. The author not only knows this but takes it a step further into a potentially promising future as everyone, refugee and native, becomes impacted.Hamid’s book is a compelling story, not one to be tied up in political semantics but in the very humanity of living in constant change. His views of human nature are likewise very revealing. In describing Saeed’s parents in their earlier married years a very human and humorously vivid scene occurs.“He smoked and she said she didn’t, but often, when the ash of his seemingly forgotten cigarette grew impossibly extended, she took it from his fingers, trimmed it softly against an ashtray, and pulled a long and rather rakish drag before returning it, daintily.”It’s scenes like these with which Hamid seasons his story that elicits the poetry and the humanity of a happily married couple, allowing us to see them, identify with them and recall people from our past who resemble them.He is a keen yet sensitive observer of the human spirit with its contradictions as well as its dreams. I am able to open the book to any page and find examples.After a very long day of hard physical work in construction, each at different sites, Nadia and Saeed arrive home. As they practically collapse near each other they realize that they are physically touching one another.“Her leg and arm touched Saeed’s leg and arm, and he was warm through his clothing, and he sat in a way that suggested exhaustion. But he also managed a tired smile, which was encouraging, and when she opened her fist to reveal what was inside, as she had once before done on her rooftop a brief lifetime ago, and he saw the weed, he started to laugh, almost soundlessly, a gentle rumble, and he said, his voice uncoiling like a slow, languid exhaustion of marijuana-scented smoke, ‘Fantastic.”This is a story not to be missed by the very gifted author of Moth Smoke, The Reluctant Fundamentalist and How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia.

As with any book by Moshin Hamid, the writing is exquisite. He's the kind of author who could make a telephone book read like a masterpiece. And he does it without ever sounding pretentious or like he's trying too hard. As a reading experience, it's pleasurable. Hamid is an evocative writer - you feel as though you are there in places he describes with the characters. I can clearly visualise each place from the novel.The trouble with this book, for me, is the plot. The concept is an interesting one - by some sort of unexplained magic, portals start opening randomly all over the world between different places. This of course creates some serious migration issues, as the poor and desperate can suddenly access wealthier countries in a safe, easy way. Most of the story revolves around Saeed and Nadia, a young couple in an unnamed war-town city (presumably from the context in either Syria or Iraq). It charts their life in the city as it descends into chaos, then their escape to Europe through a magical portal, and their lives afterwards.Both Saeed and Nadia are interesting characters, who were likeable. I didn't feel a very powerful connection with either of them, but I did like them. The first part of the book, describing their relationship developing against the backdrop of a city falling prey to war and violence, was the strongest. The descriptions of life for ordinary people when a developed city becomes a battlefield were extremely well done and moving.For me, the concept of the doors and the point where Nadia and Saeed went through the door was where the book became less strong. I liked the authenticity of the writing in the first part, but as soon as we got to the teleporting portals that was lost. The descriptions of life in the post-portal world were believable, but the story never regained its momentum after that. I wasn't sure what point was being made - I felt like there must be some profound metaphor underlying the text that I was too dim to see.Hamid missed an opportunity here. He could have taken his sympathetic Middle Eastern couple and given them a realistic journey to Europe - people smugglers, sinking boats, nations putting up fences etc. I am certain he would have done it in a very believable and hard hitting way that might have given us more insight into the horrible plight of people trying to access Europe that way and all the dangers they face. Giving characters the chance to just open a door and walk through to a safe European country feels like dodging the harsh reality.Overall it was a well written book that I enjoyed reading but I don't think it will stick in my memory. If anything, I feel puzzled by it. I'll certainly read more of his books, but this one needed a stronger plot structure.

This is an ideal book to take to a desert island, assuming you plan to get marooned there, because it's the only place I can think of where you're likely to get so bored that you might bother to finish reading it.Right from page one the writing style is dull and lifeless, giving you the impression that there's nothing of any interest going on. I managed to get 30% of the way through the book and there still wasn't anything interesting going on, so I gave up in favour of spending my time doing something worthwhile.There are some bizarre phrases in the book, too:"In the drawer of the bedside table were … a few paper-wrapped sticks of unchewed chewing gum.""His eyes rolled terribly. Yes: terribly. Or perhaps not so terribly.""Now there were two Filipina girls, in their late teens, neither probably yet twenty..."How often has anyone come across paper-wrapped sticks of chewed chewing gum? Or for that matter a girl in her late teens who is already twenty?Do yourself a favour and read something like The Apollo Murders by Chris Hadfield instead - it's excellent.

A book, a narrative of two lives, intertwined and fated. A book not of journeys, but destinations and consequences. An extraordinary book.Hamid has deliberately avoided the obvious route of encapsulating the refugee experience, that of escape and journey. Instead he has chosen to focus on the state of displacement, of arrival, of the sense of detachment, unfamiliarity, intolerance and unacceptance.The lives of Nadia and Saeed are enmeshed so tightly as they embark on their reluctant escape from a war torn, violent unnamed Middle Eastern city. But their journey is through a medium of doors...portals to destinations.From the refugee camps of Mykonos to a bizzare, Dystopian almost Orwellian London - divided into Dark London (migrant and refugee) and Light London, purpose built satellite refugee encampments, and on to a new world on San Francisco's Pacific coast.Hamid reveals much of the psychological impact displacement, loss of home and family, uncertainty and the need for companionship the refugee experience must entail. But he focuses primarily on the relationship, the strain such displacement places on the seemingly unbreakable bonds between people.At times a little disjointed, at times a little confusing, but overall a challenging and different insight into a troubled world and the displaced millions that have been forced to choose to inhabit it.

I did like this book a lot, however, there was something about the juxtaposition of a very real (seeming) description of life during a conflict in somewhere that sounds like Syria or Iraq (we are never told) and the slightly sci fi idea of magic doors opening, to let refugees escape, that jarred. As a result, I was never sure if the book was about the conflict and its effect on the two main characters or about the refugee/migration theme or actually about the conflict.The blurb concentrates on the mystery of the migration of refugees through the 'doors' (which is never explained). The context of the characters lives is solidly based in an arabic/islamic/( I apologise for not being more knowledgeable this) culture. The places where they escape to are all about what happens to migrants and refugees all over the world (and I guess, all through history). And there is the story of the relationship between the two main characters.And somehow, none of those things seemed to bloom into full colour. On the other hand, there were interesting ideas about how a relationship is steered by the events through which it grows.Nonetheless, it was often very moving, it expressed beautifully how tragedy can seem almost commonplace and confronted me with ideas I don't often need to think about. And clarified ideas I do often think about. And maybe, it was also about the fact that life goes on - the stories that we think are over actually continue in other places and times and with other people. So thanks to the author for that. And I think my 4 stars reflects my lack of understanding as much as the quality of the book.

This was the weakest of Hamid’s novels that I have read. In previous books he was extremely good at pulling his readers into the heart of the action, and getting them engaged with his characters. Perhaps because he wanted to experiment, his approach here is the opposite. He writes in a detached, rather pedestrian way, using some irritating stylistic tics. I could not become emotionally involved in the plight and adventures of Nadia and Saeed, who didn’t come across as flesh and blood people. The civil war tearing their unidentified country apart is described in generic terms and lacks immediacy. And as the book moved into its magic doors part, it became increasingly polemical, and less and less engaging. So, this didn’t work at all for me.