Hiba⁷'s Reviews > The Thirty Names of Night

With the first step into this book, the reader is transported and suspended in an in-between state, just like the feeling you get when you crane your neck to look at the sky and momentarily lose sense of your surroundings and orientation. From the first page and the reference to the loss of a loved one, you know that this is going to hurt, that you will absorb the narrator's sorrow like a sponge. This is a book steeped in feelings of loss, of not belonging, of being invisible. Heavy, but oh-so worth it.

The multigenerational aspect of the novel is presented through the alternation between a present-time narration by Nadir and an old diary of Laila's. Names are not attributed at first, and some are gleaned from the overlap of events, while others are newly adopted.

I love books that include bits of another language, and even more so when it is Arabic, although I am born and raised in an Arab country and all I ever hear in my daily life is Arabic. So, the use of Arabic, especially for pet names and endearments was a very beautiful addition that goes to show how love is expressed and practiced in different cultures.

There's a strange beauty to this book that involves a vast knowledge of birds and artistic techniques that I knew nothing about. It was like stepping into a sanctuary of all creations beautiful.

I am sure that Nadir's struggles with a body that never felt like his own, and a perception that never fit the image that exists deep within him, are struggles shared by many, and I love how this book tells them "I see you, and I see beyond the shell that holds your essence."
A lot was lost but more was gained, there was sorrow, grief, loss, but also love, comfort, and friendship.

The lyrical writing style was breathtakingly beautiful, and it was heavily marked by a tone that reflected the characters' emotions. Everything was interconnected in the most genius way, and there were no omissions or plot holes, which in my opinion is a huge feat.
I also noticed how different the writing was in the two narratives (Nadir's and Laila's) and how easily I could tell them apart.