Insightful, poetic, a deeply personal work of fiction - I was immediately blown away by the author’s crisp language and cadence, his warm and thoughtful portrayal of a fiery, funny, and flawed Pakistani father, and the first and second generation South Asian immigrants in his coming-of-age story who give glimpses into what it’s like to be Muslim outsiders in a fearful, increasingly impoverished America that is rotting under the contradictions of its own gospel of wealth.

Akhtar writes with a raw emotional intimacy that is balanced by his lucid analysis of the elite financier class in NYC, and the concentration of debt that is strangling middle American towns, from 9/11 through the Obama and Trump years. More essay than novel, the author engages in a heart-felt social polemic that might seem out of place if the astute historical and cultural analyses weren’t so integrally woven into his skillful storytelling.

There is a daring honesty here that is only possible because of an attention to detail that crosses reactive ideological lines, a kind of compassion he extends to the people who are prejudiced against him, which allows him to see more clearly, tenderly.

Without completely pandering to expectations of what a Muslim-American memoir in 2020 needs to be, the author simply acknowledges the saturated political moment we are in, and chooses to leave a little more space for critical reflection. I appreciate that.