The Pearl That Broke Its Shell

In her debut novel, Nadia Hashimi has gifted the world with a wonderfully written, mesmerizing look into a fascinating family drama set in Afghanistan. The main protagonists are Rahima, a young 21st century Afghani girl and her great-great-grandmother Shekiba who lived in the early 20th century. The story shifts between the young women who share not only DNA, but the fact that both were allowed for awhile to dress and live as males. Under a custom called bacha posh, families who do not have sons or have a single son, may allow a daughter to have her hair cut in boy fashion, don boy’s clothing, be given the freedom of boys to attend school, play in the streets, do marketing and price haggling for the family, earn money for the family, freed from household chores, be favored by the father, and receive the best food at home. After the onset of puberty, the girl has to transition back to a traditional Afghani female. Wherein lies much of the poignancy of this exquisite story. Once they have tasted freedom, recognition and respect, the bacha posh can have difficulty adjusting back to their culture’s traditional female role. Rahima, allowed to become a bacha posh, is one of five daughters. Her outspoken, sharp-tongued maternal aunt, Khala Shaima, never married due to a physical deformity, visits the family frequently to urge that the Rahima and her sisters be allowed to attend school, that they are as worthy as boys. She also tells them many stories, including that of Shekiba, their great-great-grandmother. Although the girls are allowed to attend school for a short time, after an incident with boys harassing them in the streets, they ultimately end up homebound. Rahima’s father is not a good provider, had spent much of his young adulthood fighting with the mujahideen against the Russian occupiers. His re-entry to civilian life did not go well. Between his substance abuse and his lack of a son, he was an angry, bitter man. His continued alliance with the local warlord from his mujahideen days will have drastic consequences for his family. Shekiba was the daughter of a happily married couple. Her father was a farmer who could make any crop grow, a true man of the earth. He taught all of his children to read. Her mother, two brothers and a sister died in a cholera outbreak, leaving Shekiba and her father working the farm. After father dies, Shekiba tells no one and continues to work the farm on her own, dawning her burqa if anyone approaches the homestead. Eventually her deception is discovered, she is moved to her grandmother’s house in the family compound and treated worse than a servant. Her spirit is fatigued at times, but never defeated. Shekiba becomes a female dressed as a male in the king’s harem, just outside the palace. The king has learned not to trust male guards. The description of Shekiba’s life in the harem is interesting and very compelling. The prestige of the concubines, the size of their apartments, their wardrobes and jewelry, were determined by the favor they held with the king. For the most part, this was dependent on the number of male children the concubine bore. The same measure used for Afghani wives, actually. Despite the luxury and leisure afforded concubines, there was always a shadow of danger hanging over them in their silk and jewelry-laden prison. Displeasing the king could be deadly. There is a vivid description of a stoning of a concubine who has entertained another man. This story is fascinating. Not only is it beautifully written, but the two arcs of the story, Shekiba and Rahima, based a century apart, show the similarities and contrasts of the female role in Afghani society. Shekiba saw the beginnings of modernization for Afghanistan under King Amanullah and Queen Soraya which included the expansion of the roles for women in society (true historical characters). A century later, Rahima actually participates in the Afghani legislature as assistant to a female representative. King Amanullah’s efforts to modernize Afghanistan a century ago were met with resistance and rebellion, eventually forcing him into exile after less than a decade of rule. It is still an open question whether today’s efforts to modernize the country and expand the role of women in the Afghani culture will succeed. The message of this book is that through the indomitable nature of the human spirit, there is hope, no matter the external circumstances of one’s existence. I gave this book a 4.75/5.0 rating. I hated to put it down to work, eat, sleep, and actually read it while I was on the treadmill and bike at the gym. I have barely sketched the stories of these two women; there are many other characters in the book who are just as mesmerizing. The most intense focus is on the women, but the men’s stories are represented as well because more than anything else, this is a novel about family. The men’s fates are also shaped by cultural expectations and how they use the power endowed by their societal structure has consequences for everyone around them. Some choose to brutalize others with this power while other men choose kindness, empathy and love.

This book presents two parallel stories of women who lived in different centuries in Afghanistan. The young woman in the 21st century is inspired by stories she hears of the life of her ancestor. At times, I got tired of going back and forth between the two women, but that was because I was more interested in the modern woman, Rahima. The saddest part of the story is how the cycles of cultural, economic, and domestic abuse toward women continue to repeat themselves in outlying villages where modern technology and education is still relatively nonexistent for the majority of families. Although the novels are completely different, this book has a similar theme and feel as "A Thousand Splendid Suns," a book written by Khaled Hosseini, author of "The Kite Runner." Both books are a revealing look at how the Islamic culture found in third world countries allows and even encourages abuse and oppression of women and the indomitable spirit that is found in some women who refuse to submit to the outrage and who struggle to escape and overcome their fate, even though it invites greater levels of torment by the oppressors. It also exposes how the practice of polygamy pits women against each other, the jealousy creating mistrust, thereby precluding women from joining together to fight for better treatment. Also, there is the heartbreaking irony of how these uneducated people - both men and women - blame and torment any woman who fails to bear sons when modern medicine shows that it is the man's sperm which determines the sex of a child.

An amazing story, and wonderfully written. I could not put this book down, and when I had to, I frequently found myself thinking about it and looking forward to when I could continue. Throughout this book, I couldn't help but think of how grateful I am to have been born a woman in America. With all the troubles we sometimes face here, we have our basic human rights, and freedom as women. It's horrifying that women and children (most especially girls) are treated so terribly. A beautiful, yet heartbreaking story, that will grip you emotionally. Several times I held my breath as something happened that was unexpected. Though this is a work of fiction, the author has loosely based her story on historical figures and events. She pulls you into the lives of these two women, and the culture in which they live. It's a very good reflection of the lives of so many women in the Middle East. As for the length of this book, it was perfect. I didn't want this story to end. It's hard to find books that are more than 300 pages long, and I don't care much for books under this. When you get into a gripping story like this one, it seems like you've reached the end when you've just barely started. If you liked this book, you might also like A Thousand Splendid Suns, and The Moonlit Cage. If you've read either of these, you'll definitely love this one. I look forward to reading more from this author.

Nadia Hashimi's debut novel is a strong work that explores the lives of two Afghani women who lived a hundred years apart. Both women, for different reasons, participate in a Afghan tradition, bacha posh of dressing a daughter as a boy when there are no sons. The novel tackles the issues of child marriage, abuse, discord between women of a household (second, third, and fourth wives as well as mother-in-laws), opium abuse, warlords, corruption, and the impact of war and invasion on everyday people. The focus is on the burden on women in the society and the split narratives show how little conditions for women have changed. What is interesting is that the portrayal of Rahima is not a story of someone living under the radical Taliban beliefs, but of the more traditional Afghan society. Her great-great-grandmother, Shekiba's world is that of the monarchy. One can see how despite the changes in government, little has changed for women. Hashimi's language is beautiful at times but the world she paints is bleak, full of loss and struggle. There is strength in many the women who exist in the novel but it creates a bitterness that they often take out on each other and leaves the reader with a sense of anger and a desire for them to turn that bitterness and anger on the men who have built this dreadful world they inhabit. The two women's stories end differently, but for me it is Rahima's that falls short. It felt rushed and almost anti-climactic. Granted, at 450 pages, it was time to end it, but there was room for editing earlier on that could have left more space to do her story justice in the ending. It wasn't a bad ending in terms of where it left the reader, rather a poorly paced ending that lost the potential impact of a better structured and written ending. Despite the rush at the end, the novel is worth the read for the insights into a world few westerners can fathom. It is through novels that we can develop empathy for those who live a life so different from our own.

Nadia Hashimi's debut novel was outstanding! Other reviewers have outlined and summarized this riveting story about the lives of two girls growing up in Afghanistan, spanning a century; Rahima and Shekiba, both of whom would follow a centuries-long custom in Afghanistan called, "bacha posh", which allows a girl to dress and live as boys, enjoying freedom denied girls - including schooling or simply walking alone in public. This custom prevailed among the 'bacha posh'; prior them reaching marriage age. As a history buff, I learned for the first time about 'bacha posh' and how this tradition shaped the lives of the main characters, Rahima and Shekiba. Although their lives are filled with tragedy, it struck me how these girls where empowered, and came to enjoyed their status as boys/young men. But also, as the story weaved back and forth between Rahima and Shekiba, we learn how living as boys would ultimately affect decisions both would later make when faced with dire/tragic challenges. Also, it was enlightening to learn how these Afghan girls would find a bit of kinship from an aunt, sibling, or another Afghan woman during their transition to womanhood. Amid their respective suffering, I was reminded of the relationship of the female characters in Khaled Hosseini's, A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS. For sure, Nadia Hashmi gave us a novel which enlightened our knowledge of 'bacha posh', and its impact which ideologically shaped what life was like for girls and women growing up in Afghanistan; in particular the tussle the main characters would wrestle with in a religious heritage which binds them to the 'duty' of subjugation in a man's world. Thank you for this excellent novel! I am hoping to read more books from this talented new author. Respectfully, Maizie Lucille James August 2, 2014

Once I became more comfortable with Arabic names it was easier to delve into the story line. I found the descriptions of the women to be compelling, Adjusting to the narrative frequently changing time periods became easier and flowed better as I connected to the main characters. The ending surprised me due to its abruptness. Despite the above remarks I found the story interesting, sad, disturbing and left me questioning how people , men in particular, professing such faith can treat others so humanely. Men of all nations and faiths have been entirely subjective in their interpretations of their holy books. I am glad I live where I live albeit certainly not oblivious to the misogyny that exits in the U.S.. Last, while I recommend this book, I found the authors book, The Room With No Windows, a better read.

A story so riveting about cultural differences that attempt to justify horrible abuse and condemnation against women. Although a slower start to build the plot, the story pulls you in like a mystery anxious to know how the story will twist and turn.

Imagine a world where young children grow up either in poverty or riches, a time when the poor live much as they did 100 years ago, where young girls are seen not as a joy but almost bad luck, sold or bartered into marriages with men they probably haven't met or who are many years older than they. That is the world opened through the Nadia Hashimi's book "The Pearl That Broke Its Shell." It is the story of two young Afghani women: Rahima, who is one of five daughters in a family that decides to make her a bachata posh, which allows her to dress and be treated as a boy until marriageable age; and in alternate chapters, her great, great grandmother, Shekiba, an orphan treated badly first by her family and then sold into servitude to pay a debt. As told in Hashimi's capable hands, we see how similar their lives are and how the determination for a better life drives both. This is a quite astounding read and a good story that allows us to sea and begin to understand a bit of what it is like to live in such a world, especially in the time of great changes for Afghanistan.

O livro descreve a vida de duas mulheres afgãs em uma sociedade machista. Traz características e a compreensão de uma cultura diferente da ocidental. É de fácil leitura e envolvente.

MIGHT CONTAIN SPOILERS Nadia Hashimi's debut novel, "The Pearl that Broke Its Shell," is a compelling and evocative tale that intertwines the lives of two Afghan women separated by a century. Through the practice of bacha posh, where girls dress and live as boys, Hashimi explores themes of gender, identity, and resilience in a deeply patriarchal society. The novel alternates between the stories of Rahima, a young girl in present-day Afghanistan, and her great-great-grandmother, Shekiba, in the early 20th century. Rahima, one of five daughters, is transformed into a bacha posh to provide her family with the benefits of having a "son." This role allows her to attend school and perform tasks restricted to boys. Rahima's story highlights the temporary freedoms she gains and the challenges she faces when societal norms reassert themselves. Rahima's story is mirrored by Shekiba's journey, who also faced immense hardships and societal constraints. Shekiba's resilience and resourcefulness highlight the persistent challenges for Afghan women across generations. Her experiences provide a historical context to Rahima’s struggles, showing the enduring nature of these issues. Hashimi's writing style is lyrical and evocative, immersing readers in the cultural and social landscapes of Afghanistan. Her use of detailed descriptions and rich character development brings the settings and personalities to life. The dual narrative structure not only enriches the storytelling but also allows for a nuanced exploration of the parallels and contrasts between the two women's experiences. Hashimi excels in creating a vivid, multi-faceted portrayal of her characters' inner lives and external challenges. Her storytelling is both heart-wrenching and hopeful, capturing the essence of human resilience and the enduring quest for freedom and self-determination. "The Pearl that Broke Its Shell" is a powerful and enlightening read that celebrates the indomitable spirit of Afghan women. Hashimi's debut is a significant contribution to contemporary literature about Afghanistan, offering a profound look into the complexities of gender roles and the strength of the human spirit in overcoming adversity. This novel is a must-read for anyone interested in stories of women's resilience and the cultural dynamics of traditional societies.

I really don't have a lot of time for reading, so it usually takes me a while to get through a book. I normally only read on my morning commute, but this book was something else. I read the first few pages and put it away because I wasn't quite sure I liked it. I'm glad I picked it back up after a few days and continued because the plot and writing very soon picked up and left me unable to put it down. I finished it within a week. A wonderful tale, so true to life and the harsh reality that it's both heartbreaking and heartwarming. I can only recommend it.

Loved the story of the two women, almost a century apart whose paths and fortunes were closely aligned. Interesting reading about times in Aghanistan in periods those of us in the Western world aren't as familiar with

The Pearl That Broke Its Shell is Nadia Hashimi’s debut novel. Her fiction mostly portrays relationships and plight of women in war-struck Afghanistan. The Pearl That Broke Its Shell is a story of two young women who undergo various feats to overcome the tremendous challenges thrown in their face by their respective destinies. Though both of them are centuries apart in time, they are both forced to live a part of their lives posing as boy/man. The freedom that they tasted in the garb of opposite gender is something they could not have had experienced as a woman. This is a story of Rahima or Rahim-the bacha posh and Shekiba or Shekib- the woman-man guard of the royal palace. Rahima is second of four sisters in family of a drug-addict father who works for a war-lord in a war-struck Afghanistan. She is made to pose as bacha-posh, a boy, as her mother is not able to bear a son. The arrangement works well for everybody as Rahim, the bacha posh, helps her mother with the house-hold chores and keeps her father happy with the delusion of having a son. But this fairy-tale comes to an abrupt end when the war-lord for whom Rahima’s father works offers to marry Rahima. Her sister, Parwin, is also married to a cousin of the war-lord. Though the sisters live only a wall apart in their new homes, they hardly get to see each other while they struggle in their married lives. When Rahima’s aunt tells the girls about Shekiba, their great great grandother who has had an equally challenging life many centuries ago, Rahima draws inspiration from the story of her. Shekiba who had half of her disfigured due to an accident in her childhood, is abhorred by everybody around her. She is known to bring bad luck. But her life takes a turn when she land’s up in the royal palace. She dresses up as a man and guards the harem of King’s mistresses. She feels free walk about in pants and without the chador( the head scarf) but his freedom comes with a price. Though Rahima and Shekiba’s stories are depicted in different times, beautiful narration by the author ensures that the reader is smoothly transported between the eras and does not feel lost. One might feel sympathetic about these women but also praises their courage and perseverance. The subtle message that the plight of women in Afghanistan has not changed much over the centuries is not lost. Having read two of Hashimi’s novels, it’s easy to be assured that you will never be disappointed with her books. Reading the tales of hardships portrayed in her books sitting in a comfortable room makes you grateful for what you have. But you are also certain of change and progress by the optimism scattered in the stories. Rahima and Shekiba story of adversities and hope certainly deserves to be read.