Refuge by Fatema Alarabi

In the streets where you grew up, there you will live and there you will die.

The Greek poet Cavafy, often quoted by the late great Irish writer Con Houlihan, gives a sense of how things are. There is no escape from your early years. This can be a mixed blessing, of course – not all childhoods are happy – but there is a certain truth, even wisdom, in his words.

Reading fiction makes us more empathetic: walking in the shoes of another person, even via the pages of a book, helps us to understand their world, and to feel a sense of communion with them. The same is true of works in translation: provided that the translation is good, something of the original hangs in the air.

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Refuge, the wonderful debut novel by Fatema Alarabi, is not a translation, but it nonetheless brings us into a world which is different yet strangely familiar. The reason is that the author is steeped in two perhaps contradictory cultures: that of Ireland, and that of the Middle East. When I first read the book, I assumed that Fatema had lived for years in Ireland – where much of the novel is set. I was stunned to learn that she had never visited the country. The places she mentions are well known to us in this part of the world – a tribute to the author’s extensive online research – and yet are as seen through the eyes of a recent arrival to these shores.

The Middle East is going through some of its darkest days for many years – and this is a part of the world which is well accustomed to pain and heartbreak. At the same time, many Europeans are turning against recent arrivals to their shores, blaming them for their manifest troubles. A book is a small thing to hurl into such a fray. And yet one that tells of resilience in the face of hopelessness, and love in the face of overwhelming pain, is to be not only welcomed, but warmly embraced.

All art is sensual. It’s the way it approaches you. Don’t try and makes sense of it, work it out. Let the thing . . . spray in your face.

So advises the American poet William Carlos Williams. The scent of pomegranates hangs in the air. I strongly encourage you to breathe it in.

You can read more about Refuge, and order your copy, in a beautiful limited hardback edition, here.