Eight Months on Ghazzah Street (Paperback)

Moreover, though the day-to-day grind of Saudi life is stressful enough, Frances begins to suspect that something truly ugly is occurring in their apartment building. She is alone in her concern about this though--her husband is a fairly crass and indifferent sort can't be bothered and, as a woman, she has no standing whatsoever to engage anyone else into looking into things.

This book has been much criticized as "negative" and "exaggerated" but as recent events illuminate the realities of life for women in the Muslim world in general, and Saudi Arabia in particular, one has the sense that the book renders a much more realistic picture than many would like to believe.

This is a low key suspense novel. There are no "grand" moments and it does not build to any sort of crescendo. The ending is open and quite ambiguous. However, I see this not as the flaw many proclaim it to be but as a part of the whole. When I finished the book I felt weighted down and oppressed--yet disappointed the story was over. I realized that the books real accomplishment was to render for me in as much a physical as an intellectual way the weight and anxiety that simple day to day life imposes on women in the Muslim world.

And that is no small accomplishment.

For content, I would give it a 2. I am a woman, and I have spent time in Middle Eastern countries. While I have not lived in Saudi, I must agree with other readers that she gives a valid yet exaggerated picture of life there. It is valid because things can be like that. Yet it is exaggerated because they are also not that way.

Any culture (as every American knows) can be viewed through the lens that portrays it as venal, banal, empty. Or it can be viewed as rich in possibilities and adventure if you approach it from where it stands.

To be fair, I think the character of Fran tries to do that. And yet, the people she is with remind me of one set of people I know in Dubai. And they are a handful of empty-headed Brits and Aussies who would rather drink than do anything else. And yet I know Brits, Aussies, Americans, Indians, Arabs, Pakistanis, and Persians in the city who have endlessly enriched my life through what I've experienced in my time there.

Also, the explanations of Islam are annoyingly one-sided. For once and for all it is NOT written in the Koran that women must cover themselves. It says only that they must be modest in their dress, and the definition of modest is what changes from culture to culture and from generation to generation. I feel that Mantel never really tries to show us the rich complexity which would make the odd alienation Fran feels that much more profound, nor does she give any insight into why certain people would stay for years.

As a final note, if nothing else the book obviously works on one level, because so very many of its reviewers are responding so strongly and passionately to what lies therein. The author has done a good job of touching something for all of us.

For a richer understanding of the life of a woman in the Middle East, read Ahdaf Souief's books. She is phenomenal.

After moving to Saudi Arabia for a job that he wanted, he proceeds to treat his wife almost as condescendingly as the Saudi's treat their own women. They move into a depressing housing complex where they have a depressing apartment and depressing neighbors who sit around drinking coffee and discussing cultural differences. These discussions were, in my opinion, the most interesting part of the book because they taught me about cultures I knew very little about.

Mantel attempts to bring intrigue and mystery to the story by introducing an empty apartment in the complex that is veiled in secrecy. Is it a love nest? Do illegal events take place there? Unfortunately, we never learn the whole truth and this in and of itself was VERY disappointing. It's like there was no payoff for trudging through this story.