I, The Divine: A Novel in First Chapters
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Raised in a hybrid family shaped by divorce and remarriage, and by Beirut in wartime, Sarah finds a fragile peace in self-imposed exile in the United States. Her extraordinary dignity is supported by a best friend, a grown-up son, occasional sensual pleasures, and her determination to tell her own story.
loneliness, continuing even after I remarried. Like me, Dina lived apart from her family, but unlike me, she had adjusted better and much more quickly. It seemed she was adopted into a family in Boston the instant she deplaned. By the time she graduated from MIT, she had a coterie of friends so loyal, they functioned unlike any family I had ever seen. Dina is a lesbian. Her lesbian family was a hodgepodge of strange characters. I was not sure at first how they could have accepted her so quickly,
“This painting is by someone trying to imitate John McLaughlin. Why, look here. He left the masking tape on the painting.” “Who’s this McLaughlin guy?” she will most probably ask, unconcerned with the answer, but, having been indoctrinated with inane politeness since her youth, she feels obliged to ask. “A California painter who was the obsession of a woman I went out with once.” David left me before I could teach him Mondrian. I can almost see David having a picnic in his backyard when his
think that was also a problem. I wasn’t just a foreigner, but an Arab. He says I attack him viciously, which is not true. Okay, so I did say he was emotionally constipated, but that wasn’t an attack, that was stating a fact. I simply point things out to him because he refuses to see what he’s doing. He gets me frustrated and I start saying things to help him see how he’s so annoying. If he got into therapy like I keep telling him to, I wouldn’t have to point all these things out. I have to take
There was no doubt she was mentally unbalanced. There would be no trial, no more publicity. In time Lamia would be forgotten by the community. “What about the children?” I asked. “They seemed okay,” Amal answered. “You have to transfer them to a different school, don’t you think?” The question was directed at Lamia’s husband, who was not paying attention. He was sitting in his chair, seemingly nonplussed by the events surrounding him, in his own world as usual. Two folds of fat hung over his
Bullshit. Like any star in any age, she made it by sleeping her way to the top.” “I can’t think badly of him, though. He meant so much to me.” “I know that. It’s a good thing for you he died when he did. If he had waited until you reached puberty, he would have turned against you.” “I’m not sure about that.” “I am,” she said emphatically. “Do you ever wonder why he always told you the story of the Prince of Believers, but not the story of Sarah?” “He always told stories of Sarah. What are