Finally, a moving immigrant story that looks at the larger contemporary refugee experience.
An Iranian girl escapes to America as a child, but her father stays behind. Over twenty years, as she grows from confused immigrant to overachieving Westerner to sophisticated European transplant, daughter and father only know each other from their visits: four crucial visits over two decades, each in a different international city. The longer they are apart, the more their lives diverge, but also the more each comes to need the other’s wisdom and, ultimately, rescue. Meanwhile, refugees of all nationalities are flowing into Europe under troubling conditions. Wanting to help, but also looking for a lost sense of home, our grown-up transplant finds herself quickly entranced by a world that is at once everything she has missed and nothing that she has ever known. Will her immersion in the lives of these new refugees allow her the grace to save her father?
Refuge charts the deeply moving lifetime relationship between a father and a daughter, seen through the prism of global immigration. Beautifully written, full of insight, charm, and humor, the novel subtly exposes the parts of ourselves that get left behind in the wake of diaspora and ultimately asks: Must home always be a physical place, or can we find it in another person?
“richly imagined and frequently moving in its descriptions of the neither-here-nor-there immigrant’s life… a vital, timely novel about what it means to seek refuge.”
“Dina Nayeri’s prose has something all too rare in books these days:
a wild, beating heart. Read this book to feel your own heart expand.”
—Boris Fishman, author of A Replacement Life
“Beautifully elegiac, Refuge brings into focus the entire experience of emigration…
Nayeri is brilliant on parental imperfections and the negotiations children make
with their families, and she offers a remarkably textured portrayal of drug addiction
and of everyday Iran that defies news-media stereotypes.”
—Matthew Thomas, New York Times-bestselling author of We Are Not Ourselves