2023 EDIT: Part of my 2023 clear-up, of books I no longer like, or am no longer interested in, or remember well as standing out, or find as special anymore, or I otherwise will not miss.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
My word, I have such complicated thoughts and feelings about 'The Henna Wars'.
There are moments in it that make me hate the characters and want to yell and tear my hair out. It's a bit like a rom com, that stars queer brown Asian girls in love with each other - complete with stupid and thoughtless shenanigans from both sides, which comes with the genre package. There are friendship dynamics that appear to be like a much lighter version of those in 'The Hate U Give' (like with the unconsciously racist, and socially and culturally tone deaf, white friend, and another, Asian friend who is uncomfortable and silent through it all).
But...alongside the serious issues of racism, homophobia, culture clashes, and cultural approbation, 'The Henna Wars' is such a soft and warm book!
It's set in Ireland, and one of the main settings is an all girls Catholic school. The messy and complicated, developing romance between the teens Nishat, a Bangladeshi-Muslim lesbian who is losing the love of her family and friends fast just for coming out and being who she is, and Flávia, a Black Brazilian-Irish bisexual who is appropriating Nishat's culture with a henna business and doesn't realise that what she's doing is wrong, is adorable, despite everything. Their relationship, starting from being estranged childhood classmates, to bitter rivals in henna businesses for a class competition, to finally not-so-secret girlfriends (after Nishat is harassed and outed, without her consent and in the nastiest way possible, to their entire school) - it manages to be cute and melt-worthy.
Flávia has a white cousin, Chyna, who is a racist bully and the school's queen bee. She used to be Nishat's friend before she revealed her true colours. She's one of those girls, who are seemingly in every school ever, and one of those people, who take great pleasure in spreading malicious lies about marginalized people and in making the lives of their "underlings" a living hell. Chyna has had everyone believe that she can get away with murder (her ambition is to be a lawyer, gods help us all) - and with stealing and appropriating parts of other cultures that she knows nothing about. She and her class business partner Flávia, who is an artist and who only took up henna because she thinks it looks cool, make henna their business at the school. Chyna, a white girl, uses henna as her scheme to go further into the popularity gateway. It's also so she can get back at Nishat, whom she had spread racist rumours about for years (and about her family).
Nishat is absolutely furious at this - due to people appropriating her rich, complex culture, and them undermining her passion for henna - and not everyone understands her righteous anger. She can't get rid of her feelings for Flávia either, no matter what; no matter her attempts to "get back at them".
That is the plot of 'The Henna Wars' in a nutshell. I can also sum it all up as "It's slipshod, but hey, so is life." There is a familial beauty to the book, as well. The family and friends relationships are realistic, to an extent, and it's a look into the social hierarchy of schools - a microcosm into a much larger, broken system of abuse and bigotry, that lacks humanity and compassion.
And it's yet another large, brave step in the right direction in terms of diversity in YA novels. Not only because of the queer love between a Bangladeshi-Muslim girl and a Black Brazilian girl, which is as messy as any teen relationship - though of course that is a huge deal - but because 'The Henna Wars' also exudes a strong female presence about it. The beautiful brown girls are at an all girls school, with only women teachers. Mothers and sisters are prominent, important figures. Grandmothers, aunts and female cousins are also a big feature. Really, the only main male character is Nishat's father, and he is barely seen doing or saying anything. The book loves and celebrates being a girl - in the there-are-no-wrong-ways-to-be-a-girl way - and I love it for it. Additionally, I have not read a lot of YA books that are set in Dublin.
Nishat's relationship with her younger-by-one-year sister Priti is one of the strongest and most outstanding in the whole book. It's so loving, supportive, and funny, if rage-inducing at one particular moment in the second act climax. In reading everything that they go through, both united and individually, I never had any trouble believing that they are sisters who love each other. They're best friends, who stick together and always come around, and honestly it's one of the most positive, heartbreaking, heartwarming, complex, and realistic sibling bonds I've ever read about in fiction. Through blunder and chaos, these young and ruff and tumble allies will come through for each other.
Nishat's parents, on the other hand, are...not great. At the beginning of the story, after she comes out to them, feeling she needs them to know and that she shouldn't hide who she is from them, they give her the silent treatment. They occasionally bother to acknowledge her, but only to talk about her "bringing shame to the family"; that she needs to "make a choice", and she should just stop being a lesbian, or they won't love her anymore. They want to believe that their daughter's true self is a Western influence and is caused by "too much freedom" (where have I heard that before?). They hope this "sickness" will go away once she "comes to her senses", and will marry a man like they'd planned. In the meantime, they make her feel shameful, unwanted, unloved, and unworthy.
It's not until Nishat's parents realise that, whaddaya know, their lesbian daughter has feelings, and her ambitions for her future won't be negatively affected by her sexuality, that they finally, gradually, come out of their narrow world view, and try to accept her for who she is, in their way.
Nishat's parents are said to be quite liberal, and almost "outsider", Muslims, who break some traditions, but they are set on conservative heterosexual marriages. For their shortcomings, they are nowhere near as extreme as the parents in 'The Love and Lies of Rukhsana Ali', another queer Muslim YA book - they don't sink to THOSE depths of horrific abuse - and they are more forgivable (but the "If you're gay we won't love you" rhetoric, less so). At the end of 'The Henna Wars', they are shown to care enough to try to understand Nishat; the very people who are supposed to love her and be there for her are far from perfect, though it isn't exactly unrealistic.
Another aspect I have to comment on in 'The Henna Wars': What makes me forgive most of the characters for their meanspirited and thoughtless words and actions is something obvious but still somehow underused in a lot of stories, and it's this:
They apologise.
Eventually, they realise that what they did is wrong and they say so.
They own up to their mistakes.
They say sorry.
I've found that in some works of fiction, there are writers who for some reason seem to be deathly allergic to having their characters say "I'm sorry". Worse, they may have characters say they're sorry, but it's from the wronged party. I can't fathom it. It's against common sense, morality and ethics. Acknowledging and admitting character flaws, and making them take responsibility for their own mistakes, for words hurt and actions have consequences, is part of character growth. Characters do something that's clearly wrong and they face up to it, not ignore it and pretend it didn't happen. Apologising is the first step.
To my relief, 'The Henna Wars' fixes this common writing error. It makes a conscious effort to not make excuses for any of its characters, and there is no bias towards anyone, no favouritism, that I can decipher. A lot of people say "I'm sorry" in this novel, and they explain why what they said or did was wrong. It is quite refreshing and wonderful, though imperfect, to read about.
Ah, 'The Henna Wars' - I can't stay mad at you. You're an adorable, sunny, frustrating paradox, and your diversity rep is awesome. You're like a lighter version of 'The Love and Lies of Rukhsana Ali' (there's even a beloved grandmother character who's in Bangladesh), and similar to that, I learned a lot about Bangladeshi culture from you (as well as a little about other Asian cultures); including the food, the weddings, and henna. What gorgeous henna.
And I will forever love that cover. Brown girls love for the win.
Final Score: 3.5/5
No comments:
Post a Comment