Some works of contemporary fiction, though interested in humanity, seem ultimately aimed at showing us their characters’ (or authors’) politics. Others, whose characters are thrown into politics against their will, ask only that we see their humanity. Books that fall into this second category tend to be the most emotionally and politically impactful, and Susan Muaddi Darraj’s debut novel-in-stories, Behind You Is the Sea, is no exception.

In nine chapters that could double as standalone tales, three Palestinian-American families in Baltimore — the Ammars, the Baladis, and the Salamehs — experience everything from teenage pregnancy and ailing parents to deeper issues of exile, betrayal, and abandonment. Muaddi Darraj treats generational and cultural divides with the kind of care that brings readers closer to her characters, even as the characters themselves are driven apart.

One division involves the issue of honor: A first-generation immigrant father in the Salameh family has effectively disowned his daughter, Amal, for becoming pregnant, while his son, Marcus, remains Amal’s lifeline. Even knowing of the elder man’s intransigence, readers may find the detailed descriptions of his behavior endearing. Marcus’ chapters are told in first person, and despite his righteous anger, he is always dutiful to his father:

“‘You want the milk upstairs or down?’ I ask.

“‘Down,’ he says from his favorite spot on the kitchen stool, where he’s busy puffing away and reading The Jerusalem Times on his iPad, which is really my old iPad.”

Marcus is one of the novel’s warmest characters. He is also the only one given two chapters. In chapter two, “Ride Along,” his future ex-girlfriend plays with his loaded gun during a fight, accidentally shooting and wounding him. By chapter nine, “Escorting the Body,” Marcus, on a trip home to Palestine, teaches a young woman how to safely use a firearm for self-defense. It’s a literal reversal of Chekhov’s classic principle — that a gun introduced at the beginning of a story must go off by the end.

Muaddi Darraj doesn’t mine this reversal for too-obvious, optimistic metaphors about a world at war, but neither does she shy away from optimism. More than one love story here ends happily, and sometimes the resolution is so quick and complete that it’s almost unbelievable. I found myself wondering if people could really overcome relationship obstacles with that much speed and certitude, but that doesn’t mean these endings were unsatisfying. (And maybe snap judgments like mine warrant reflection; in lives under duress, isn’t the mere willingness to experience joy an act of defiance?)

Notwithstanding the characters’ similar approaches to ardor, the voices and interiors of our primary storytellers — Reema Baladi, Marcus Salameh, Walid Ammar, Rania Mahfouz, Maysoon Baladi, Layla Marwan, Hiba Ammar, and Samira Awadah — are remarkably distinct. It’s rare to find an author who can pull off such a feat, but Muaddi Darraj has assembled a cast whose members both create a clear sense of community and stand out for reasons all their own.

The story of Samira, a successful attorney enmeshed in her workplace, is among the most memorable. There’s a sweetness to the romance that unfolds, one that brings unexpected moments of lightness. For instance, as she’s being courted, the usually practical language that frames her point-of-view shifts:

“He paused. ‘Say you’ll go out with me.’ He opened the request like setting up a tent on the grass, like a lovely possibility, and she realized she wanted to walk into it.”

I’m glad I walked into Behind You Is the Sea, and you will be, too. Its dual themes of duty and loyalty have a give-and-take rhythm almost reminiscent of bargaining as characters figuratively negotiate with relatives, with neighbors, and with fate. Yet throughout, the emphasis in their relationships is not on transaction but reciprocity, and it’s this that will linger with readers. Susan Muaddi Darraj has given us a gift with these stories; we owe it to ourselves to receive it.

Molly McGinnis studied literature at American University. Her writing has been featured in Guernica, CQ Researcher, Poet Lore, Hobart, and elsewhere. She lives and works in Washington, DC.

comments powered by Disqus