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Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Fiction (2011)A due anni di distanza dall'11 settembre 2001, gli effetti dell'attentato ancora incombono sulla vita di tanti americani, impegnati a tentare di immaginare un futuro di guarigione e ritrovata serenità. Questo sforzo, individuale e collettivo insieme, ha bisogno di un simbolo, di un faro, di qualcosa che renda tangibile ciò che solo le parole - e a volte neppure quelle - riescono a evocare. Il monumento che dovrà assolvere il compito sarà un luogo di pace, un documento storico, una nuova partenza.
Viene così indetto un concorso anonimo e aperto a tutti per scegliere il progetto che meglio rappresenterà questa voglia di memoria e rinascita. Ma per quello che sembra in tutto e per tutto uno scherzo del destino, il progetto prescelto - il Giardino - risulta essere opera di un bravissimo architetto, referenziato e stimato. E musulmano.
Per un attimo sembra che quel nome, Mohammad Khan, arrivato in modo cosí inatteso al tavolo della giuria, sia una sorta di déjà-vu: una nuova esplosione, un altro attacco kamikaze, quasi un nuovo attentato alla società americana. Le reazioni dell'opinione pubblica alla notizia sono prevedibilmente di shock e incredulità. L'architetto vincitore si vedrà costretto a ripensare il suo modo di essere americano e musulmano, di essere figlio e compagno, e finirà con l'abbandonare la battaglia per rivendicare quegli stessi diritti che gli hanno permesso di diventare ciò che è, un onesto e produttivo cittadino americano. Proprio come negli effetti di una catastrofe, il romanzo squarcia il velo di un'umanità complessa, fatta di vite intense eppure solitarie, semplici e nascoste, di grandi successi e insuccessi, di riscatti e ambizioni, un'umanità che non smette mai di interrogarsi sulla natura del bene e del male, sul valore della giustizia e della tolleranza, e soprattutto sul valore della memoria individuale e collettiva.
Viene così indetto un concorso anonimo e aperto a tutti per scegliere il progetto che meglio rappresenterà questa voglia di memoria e rinascita. Ma per quello che sembra in tutto e per tutto uno scherzo del destino, il progetto prescelto - il Giardino - risulta essere opera di un bravissimo architetto, referenziato e stimato. E musulmano.
Per un attimo sembra che quel nome, Mohammad Khan, arrivato in modo cosí inatteso al tavolo della giuria, sia una sorta di déjà-vu: una nuova esplosione, un altro attacco kamikaze, quasi un nuovo attentato alla società americana. Le reazioni dell'opinione pubblica alla notizia sono prevedibilmente di shock e incredulità. L'architetto vincitore si vedrà costretto a ripensare il suo modo di essere americano e musulmano, di essere figlio e compagno, e finirà con l'abbandonare la battaglia per rivendicare quegli stessi diritti che gli hanno permesso di diventare ciò che è, un onesto e produttivo cittadino americano. Proprio come negli effetti di una catastrofe, il romanzo squarcia il velo di un'umanità complessa, fatta di vite intense eppure solitarie, semplici e nascoste, di grandi successi e insuccessi, di riscatti e ambizioni, un'umanità che non smette mai di interrogarsi sulla natura del bene e del male, sul valore della giustizia e della tolleranza, e soprattutto sul valore della memoria individuale e collettiva.
400 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2011
About the author
Amy Waldman
4 books180 followersAmy Waldman is the author of two novels, A Door in the Earth, which will be published August 27, 2019, and The Submission, which was a national bestseller, a PEN/Hemingway Award finalist, and the #1 Book of the Year for Entertainment Weekly and Esquire. She has received fellowships from the American Academy in Berlin, Ledig House for International Writers, the MacDowell Colony, and the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study. Waldman was previously a national correspondent for The Atlantic and a reporter for the New York Times, where, as a bureau chief for South Asia, she covered Afghanistan. She lives in Brooklyn.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,896 reviews
July 1, 2011
A nation's tragedy brings out the best and the worst in its citizens. Amy Waldman places her story at the center of America's tragedy, two years after the devastation. A contest for a 9/11 memorial where the World Trade Center once stood brings to a boil all the simmering hurt and mistrust and fear about the future. What is it that causes this firestorm of media distortion and political posturing? What revelation leads to threats and accusations and even violence? Just a name. The name of the contest winner.
"Mo" is as American as can be. He's an architect, born and raised in Virginia. His immigrant parents proudly gave him the name of a beloved prophet. Never would they have imagined that a few decades later that name would become like poison to many Americans. "Mo" is Mohammad Khan. A Muslim name. Suddenly his design, "The Garden," becomes suspect, and the selection committee backpedals on its decision.
This story felt so real that it sometimes made my heart ache for my country, my world, my species. How easily we let ourselves be distracted, led away from the harmony we say we want. When the media and special interest groups push our buttons, they can make us forget why we've come together and what we hoped to accomplish. The voices of reason and reconciliation are often the most gentle and the hardest to hear amid the din of controversy.
It's challenging to give a plausible ending to a novel with real-life parallels. This book poses more questions than it answers, which is as it should be. Given the complexity of the issues, I think Waldman found a strong and believable finish. Our hope for the younger generations is powerful. Those who are too young to remember September 11, 2001 and its aftermath may be our best chance for a balanced perspective and, ultimately, for healing.
"Mo" is as American as can be. He's an architect, born and raised in Virginia. His immigrant parents proudly gave him the name of a beloved prophet. Never would they have imagined that a few decades later that name would become like poison to many Americans. "Mo" is Mohammad Khan. A Muslim name. Suddenly his design, "The Garden," becomes suspect, and the selection committee backpedals on its decision.
This story felt so real that it sometimes made my heart ache for my country, my world, my species. How easily we let ourselves be distracted, led away from the harmony we say we want. When the media and special interest groups push our buttons, they can make us forget why we've come together and what we hoped to accomplish. The voices of reason and reconciliation are often the most gentle and the hardest to hear amid the din of controversy.
It's challenging to give a plausible ending to a novel with real-life parallels. This book poses more questions than it answers, which is as it should be. Given the complexity of the issues, I think Waldman found a strong and believable finish. Our hope for the younger generations is powerful. Those who are too young to remember September 11, 2001 and its aftermath may be our best chance for a balanced perspective and, ultimately, for healing.
March 18, 2012
The premise is so intriguing: What would happen if a nation-wide contest to design the 9/11 Memorial was held and the blind judging panel picked a Muslim winner?
SPOILERS AHOY AHOY
Amy Waldman's story unravels realistically. The media churns out drivel and instigates more controversy. The panel collapse into themselves with over-thinking and uber-PC dialogue. The winner broods and employs lawyers to get a fair shake at the prestige of honoring those that were killed. The racists rally. The liberals worry. It's a very complicated affair.
So, you'd think the book would be more interesting to me, right? I wonder if I would have thought differently had I skipped the author's biography (she's a well seasoned reporter), but for me the writing was as flat as a newscast. The characters were mostly stereotypes. We maintained a comfortable surface level with them: her brow was furrowed like rain on glass; he stewed in his kitchen in a red robe. That sort of thing. And I just wanted to get into the brains of some of the key characters and talk about the complex feelings they experienced instead of what shoes they chose to wear.
I should disclose here that I was in the minority of our book group. Most of us liked it. Praised it. Got behind the characters and seriously connected to one side or other of the causes.
I did not. I felt like the POV should have focused on three characters (Claire, the winner and the (edit) Bangladeshi immigrant). That way the repercussions of the events would have hit home harder. I feel like whoever gave the author the advice 'writing is reporting with adjectives' (because that's very much how I felt it was written)should have expounded a little further.
Amy Waldman has talent for writing. Don't let what I wrote here make you think otherwise. I'm just going to give her a few books before I try her again.
SPOILERS AHOY AHOY
Amy Waldman's story unravels realistically. The media churns out drivel and instigates more controversy. The panel collapse into themselves with over-thinking and uber-PC dialogue. The winner broods and employs lawyers to get a fair shake at the prestige of honoring those that were killed. The racists rally. The liberals worry. It's a very complicated affair.
So, you'd think the book would be more interesting to me, right? I wonder if I would have thought differently had I skipped the author's biography (she's a well seasoned reporter), but for me the writing was as flat as a newscast. The characters were mostly stereotypes. We maintained a comfortable surface level with them: her brow was furrowed like rain on glass; he stewed in his kitchen in a red robe. That sort of thing. And I just wanted to get into the brains of some of the key characters and talk about the complex feelings they experienced instead of what shoes they chose to wear.
I should disclose here that I was in the minority of our book group. Most of us liked it. Praised it. Got behind the characters and seriously connected to one side or other of the causes.
I did not. I felt like the POV should have focused on three characters (Claire, the winner and the (edit) Bangladeshi immigrant). That way the repercussions of the events would have hit home harder. I feel like whoever gave the author the advice 'writing is reporting with adjectives' (because that's very much how I felt it was written)should have expounded a little further.
Amy Waldman has talent for writing. Don't let what I wrote here make you think otherwise. I'm just going to give her a few books before I try her again.
June 19, 2019
Set in New York City, 2 years on from the twin towers massacre. A competition is held to design a memorial for the victims. It is won by an American Moslem. One hell of a story line which runs and runs. It explores the issues from all sides. These include the victims’ families, the moslem community, politicians and the media. It is superbly written and so horribly relevant.
The book is a master class in how information can be distorted for political and other ends. Our so-called free press/media is a very good example of this: bile in its mouth and blood on its hands.
Many dilemmas are shared here. All the characters are well and realistically drawn. I fully recommend it. So, you’ve been warned – expect a post!
The book is a master class in how information can be distorted for political and other ends. Our so-called free press/media is a very good example of this: bile in its mouth and blood on its hands.
Many dilemmas are shared here. All the characters are well and realistically drawn. I fully recommend it. So, you’ve been warned – expect a post!
December 25, 2011
This novel came in for me during the weekend of 9/11. Being the 10th anniversary of the attack, I looked forward to reading it over the weekend. I was very disappointed.
It begins two years after the September 11th attacks, and a jury has been assembled to select a WTC memorial from thousands of submissions that are anonymous. After much discussion, “The Garden” is selected. When the sealed envelope is opened the architect is revealed, a Muslim named Mohammad Khan. “Mo” as his friends call him is an American, born and raised in Virginia, the son of immigrants from India.
The book contains a cast of characters including family members of 9/11 victims, including a firefighter that died, the widow, Claire Burwell that is on the jury and fights for the selection of “The Garden”, an illegal immigrant from Bangladesh who has lost her husband in the attack, assorted politician, artists, activists and one particularly vile journalist.
The author tries to portray the anguish of the survivors along with the ever-increasing paranoia and hatred of all things Muslim. Unfortunately, she falls short in these goals.
The problem is that all of her characters are flat, one-dimensional and underdeveloped. I found myself not caring for any of the characters and could not get inside of their skin to develop any empathy. The only character I found having a strong emotional reaction to was the journalist that worked for one of the NYC tabloids, she was the only one in which I could sense desperation and the corruption of her morals as she did whatever she could to make a name for herself. Other than that, I was frustrated at not being able to be drawn into Claire Burwell’s grief or Mo Khan’s anger or frustration.
This is a hard book to be drawn into and a hard book to finish.
It begins two years after the September 11th attacks, and a jury has been assembled to select a WTC memorial from thousands of submissions that are anonymous. After much discussion, “The Garden” is selected. When the sealed envelope is opened the architect is revealed, a Muslim named Mohammad Khan. “Mo” as his friends call him is an American, born and raised in Virginia, the son of immigrants from India.
The book contains a cast of characters including family members of 9/11 victims, including a firefighter that died, the widow, Claire Burwell that is on the jury and fights for the selection of “The Garden”, an illegal immigrant from Bangladesh who has lost her husband in the attack, assorted politician, artists, activists and one particularly vile journalist.
The author tries to portray the anguish of the survivors along with the ever-increasing paranoia and hatred of all things Muslim. Unfortunately, she falls short in these goals.
The problem is that all of her characters are flat, one-dimensional and underdeveloped. I found myself not caring for any of the characters and could not get inside of their skin to develop any empathy. The only character I found having a strong emotional reaction to was the journalist that worked for one of the NYC tabloids, she was the only one in which I could sense desperation and the corruption of her morals as she did whatever she could to make a name for herself. Other than that, I was frustrated at not being able to be drawn into Claire Burwell’s grief or Mo Khan’s anger or frustration.
This is a hard book to be drawn into and a hard book to finish.
September 4, 2018
I finished reading this book, The Submission, a couple of days ago but wanted to take some time to think about it. If you assign ratings to books based on the emotions it elicits, then this book should definitely be assigned 5 stars. The story takes place in Manhattan a couple of years after the terrorist attacks on 9/11/2001. A panel is charged with choosing a memorial from the plans which had been submitted.This process was a blind process... no names or backgrounds were given to the jury beforehand. The memorial which was chosen was that of a beautiful garden. All hell breaks loose when it is discovered that the architect who designed the memorial garden is a Muslim-American.If you have any knowledge of American History or even of human nature, I don't need to recap the rest of this story... things unfold just as you probably imagine they would.
This book, beautifully constructed by Amy Waldman, evoked very strong emotions in me... anger, sadness, frustration, compassion and dispiritedness... but mostly anger. This story epitomized a couple of things to me.... when terrible events... tragedies... occur, we can use them as a tool for learning... to increase our acceptance and even tolerance of other human beings. Instead what often happens is that we are unable to resist that human need to put people in a box... to categorize them. This categorizing does not allow us to see beyond our prejudices and bigotry. I am a white woman of European ancestry, born in Pennsylvania, a mother, wife, daughter, friend, college- educated..... I could continue labeling myself but in the end, all of these labels tell you very little about who I am and what kind of person I am... and what is in my heart. Reading this story, The Submission encouraged me to think, really think about the times I try to label others without really knowing who they are.
The Submission also left me thinking about an old adage which tends to get overused... 'time heals all wounds'. I believe this story clearly demonstrates that time actually heals nothing and fundamentally changes nothing. Sure, tempers and emotions cool and passions wane but it was clear in Ms. Waldman's story that because no one ever seemed to have the courage to go deeper than the fear, hatred and bigotry, the country just put aside those feelings for another day.... and until another tragedy.
This book told a story which seemed like it could have actually happened. It didn't. But it WAS clear that Ms. Waldman possesses a deep understanding of human nature and our seemingly incomprehensible need to repeat history... over and over again. I can't say I LOVED reading this book.... it actually left me emotionally depleted but with just a sliver of hope. In all its uncomfortableness, it really WAS a story worth reading.
This book, beautifully constructed by Amy Waldman, evoked very strong emotions in me... anger, sadness, frustration, compassion and dispiritedness... but mostly anger. This story epitomized a couple of things to me.... when terrible events... tragedies... occur, we can use them as a tool for learning... to increase our acceptance and even tolerance of other human beings. Instead what often happens is that we are unable to resist that human need to put people in a box... to categorize them. This categorizing does not allow us to see beyond our prejudices and bigotry. I am a white woman of European ancestry, born in Pennsylvania, a mother, wife, daughter, friend, college- educated..... I could continue labeling myself but in the end, all of these labels tell you very little about who I am and what kind of person I am... and what is in my heart. Reading this story, The Submission encouraged me to think, really think about the times I try to label others without really knowing who they are.
The Submission also left me thinking about an old adage which tends to get overused... 'time heals all wounds'. I believe this story clearly demonstrates that time actually heals nothing and fundamentally changes nothing. Sure, tempers and emotions cool and passions wane but it was clear in Ms. Waldman's story that because no one ever seemed to have the courage to go deeper than the fear, hatred and bigotry, the country just put aside those feelings for another day.... and until another tragedy.
This book told a story which seemed like it could have actually happened. It didn't. But it WAS clear that Ms. Waldman possesses a deep understanding of human nature and our seemingly incomprehensible need to repeat history... over and over again. I can't say I LOVED reading this book.... it actually left me emotionally depleted but with just a sliver of hope. In all its uncomfortableness, it really WAS a story worth reading.
August 13, 2012
Although I was once a New Yorker and had family members on the scene of 9/11 in NY and DC (all thankfully safe), I am not a 9/11 obsessive or fanatic (Both My Former Hometowns Were Terrorized and I All I Got Was Two Wars, the Patriot Act and This Lousy T-Shirt.) Like a low-key take on "Bonfire of the Vanities," heavy on compassion and easy on the sarcasm, Waldman's wonderful what-if tale (what if a Muslim won the 9/11 Memorial competition?) successfully explicates a kaleidiscope of viewpoints (try saying that fast three times): the upper-crust WASP widow of a humanistic Cantor Fitzgerald-like financial trader; the lowlife brother of a dead firefighter who straightens up and becomes a Muslim-baiting, Archie Bunker-like spokesman; the bloviating governor; the inscrutable, assimilated architect Mohammed ("Mo") Khan, in his heart about as Muslim as I am; and my favorite character, the wounded but also wounding tabloid reporter, a fading blonde whose interview questions are like waterboarding for her even-more fragile subjects.
I picked up the book because I heard it was an accurate description of the world of architects and in particular design competitions; areas I have covered as a journalist. Waldman spot on captures this mileau. Her evocative description of the fantasy memorial (the book is indeed pure fiction and the real memorial has since been built) provides an excellent example of writing about landscape design.
Waldman skillfully handles her ensemble cast in a way that recalls "The Wire" or "Hill Street Blues" or perhaps an Altman film like "The Player" or "Nashville." Her writing is is slick and cinematic (fast-paced and pulpy, but not trashy, if that's possible) in pacing and description and pithy dialogue. She's got a wonderful eye for small, telling detail. I would not be surprised to see "The Submission" optioned for big screen or HBO.
ADDENDUM: I visited the 9/11 Memorial on August 12, 2012. I guess I was not reading the reviews close enough, but was disappointed to learn this is a private, ticketed space. Not only do you have to cough up $15, but wait in an endless line in the broiling sun and then (irony of ironies) go through airport security to ensure you are not a terrorist out to implode a huge granite memorial. To take nothing away from the heroism displayed on 9/11, I am not comfortable with the canonization of New York's Finest and the resulting sanctioned police state.
That said it was worth it. The monumental memorial is extremely moving. I particularly enjoyed the ambiguity of the statement, the peaceful feeling elicited by the massive downward fountain draining into the infinity of the earth. It works for families, it works for New York and memorialization, and it also works for mild 9/11 skeptics like myself who see the efforts of the past 11 years as vast resources (and perhaps the last of our personal freedoms) going down the drain. Or perhaps it is the remnants of our economy being drained by triumphant Wall Street still ascendant all around?
On the other hand, the Freedom Tower is just another banal, glassy high-rise, and the financial district (with the Occupy-ers vanquished from Zuccotti Park to a thin sidewalk outside Trinity Church) as soul-less as ever.
A good friend lost his brother in 9/11. He worked for a financial company high in the WTC. I never met him and was pleased to be able to look him up and visit his inscribed name. Again this is a memorial that works on numerous levels.
I picked up the book because I heard it was an accurate description of the world of architects and in particular design competitions; areas I have covered as a journalist. Waldman spot on captures this mileau. Her evocative description of the fantasy memorial (the book is indeed pure fiction and the real memorial has since been built) provides an excellent example of writing about landscape design.
Waldman skillfully handles her ensemble cast in a way that recalls "The Wire" or "Hill Street Blues" or perhaps an Altman film like "The Player" or "Nashville." Her writing is is slick and cinematic (fast-paced and pulpy, but not trashy, if that's possible) in pacing and description and pithy dialogue. She's got a wonderful eye for small, telling detail. I would not be surprised to see "The Submission" optioned for big screen or HBO.
ADDENDUM: I visited the 9/11 Memorial on August 12, 2012. I guess I was not reading the reviews close enough, but was disappointed to learn this is a private, ticketed space. Not only do you have to cough up $15, but wait in an endless line in the broiling sun and then (irony of ironies) go through airport security to ensure you are not a terrorist out to implode a huge granite memorial. To take nothing away from the heroism displayed on 9/11, I am not comfortable with the canonization of New York's Finest and the resulting sanctioned police state.
That said it was worth it. The monumental memorial is extremely moving. I particularly enjoyed the ambiguity of the statement, the peaceful feeling elicited by the massive downward fountain draining into the infinity of the earth. It works for families, it works for New York and memorialization, and it also works for mild 9/11 skeptics like myself who see the efforts of the past 11 years as vast resources (and perhaps the last of our personal freedoms) going down the drain. Or perhaps it is the remnants of our economy being drained by triumphant Wall Street still ascendant all around?
On the other hand, the Freedom Tower is just another banal, glassy high-rise, and the financial district (with the Occupy-ers vanquished from Zuccotti Park to a thin sidewalk outside Trinity Church) as soul-less as ever.
A good friend lost his brother in 9/11. He worked for a financial company high in the WTC. I never met him and was pleased to be able to look him up and visit his inscribed name. Again this is a memorial that works on numerous levels.
February 11, 2014
Blurbiosity overkill
Now if I had picked this one up in a bookstore it would never have carried me to the checkout. For why? For because when you look into the first few pages of a book these days, fair enough, you do expect to see not the publication details, dedication, epigraph and opening page, but first to be forced to hack your way through the choking jungle of gush, you know the style: exciting, extraordinary, exhilarating, exceptional. Thought-provoking (an absolute minimum requirement rather than praise, I’d have said). Accomplished – why, yes, for here it is, in my hands. Oh, that doesn’t just mean it’s finished?
I did a very quick, and statistically insignificant survey of the books lying within easy reach. Alice Munro: back cover only. None inside. Christopher Clark: back cover and one page inside. Thomas Mann can dispense with such vulgarity entirely. I suspect there is a direct correlation between how well established and respected a writer already is and how much blurbiness needs to get rolled out. Two pages: new writer, we’re a little concerned that no-one has heard of her. Three or four pages: we’re deeply insecure about this one. Five pages indicates a grave case of the jitters and six is, well, positively needy. The equivalent of the security blanket and a reassuring suck of the thumb.
But this one is right off the scale. We’ve gone way, way past tense and troubled. Before you even get to To my parents (aaaw) there are no fewer than eleven pages of Praise for The Submission. Let me say that again. Eleven pages. Plus quotes on the inside cover, plus three more on the back cover.
Eleven pages. That isn’t persuasion, that is harassment. That is intimidation. That is bludgeoning the audacious blogger into submission. You wouldn’t dare (would you?) disagree with ALL the prestigious British broadsheets, with Salon, Vogue and Marie Claire, with Kirkus Review, Booklist and Publisher’s Weekly. With The Washington Post and (deep intake of breath) Michiko Kakatuni in The New York Times??? You, a mere amateur could not possibly be so presumptuous as to claim to know better than these august professionals?
Well, yes, I could. (Is anyone surprised?)
Naturally I can only prove a point by finding fault, so imagine my initial disappointment when I had to admit that there was really quite a lot right with this novel. The writing is sharp and fresh, the basic premise is not entirely without interest, and Ms Waldman, a journalist herself, is unafraid, indeed reckless in her eagerness to do the dirty on one of her gild who manipulates and manoeuvres, distorts and deceives and betrays with little concern for the collateral damage. But I was soon most gratified to find that the story began to drag. When you get to chapter 8 and 9 and there are yet more new characters turning up, then you begin to wonder quite where this is going to go. The trouble is, this is a novel of ideas, and ambitious too. So every single nuance of opinion on both sides of the dividing line has to be represented. And I’m afraid that is where the people remained: in the debating club, representing a Point of View. They never got legs and ran.
Which of course begs a question: had Michiko Kakatuni been knocked senseless on the day she compared The Submission (favourably) to The Bonfire of the Vanities? No, no, no. Although the publishers included every review they could find, it goes without saying that they selected their passages very carefully. Let me insert what they omitted: ...she lacks Richard Price’s pitch-perfect ear for dialogue and instinctive sense of pacing... or the evolution of Claire’s thinking about the memorial may not make that much sense to the reader — this and the cartoony portrait of Alyssa are the novel’s two big flaws.... Funny that. Eleven pages, but no room for those remarks.
Now if I had picked this one up in a bookstore it would never have carried me to the checkout. For why? For because when you look into the first few pages of a book these days, fair enough, you do expect to see not the publication details, dedication, epigraph and opening page, but first to be forced to hack your way through the choking jungle of gush, you know the style: exciting, extraordinary, exhilarating, exceptional. Thought-provoking (an absolute minimum requirement rather than praise, I’d have said). Accomplished – why, yes, for here it is, in my hands. Oh, that doesn’t just mean it’s finished?
I did a very quick, and statistically insignificant survey of the books lying within easy reach. Alice Munro: back cover only. None inside. Christopher Clark: back cover and one page inside. Thomas Mann can dispense with such vulgarity entirely. I suspect there is a direct correlation between how well established and respected a writer already is and how much blurbiness needs to get rolled out. Two pages: new writer, we’re a little concerned that no-one has heard of her. Three or four pages: we’re deeply insecure about this one. Five pages indicates a grave case of the jitters and six is, well, positively needy. The equivalent of the security blanket and a reassuring suck of the thumb.
But this one is right off the scale. We’ve gone way, way past tense and troubled. Before you even get to To my parents (aaaw) there are no fewer than eleven pages of Praise for The Submission. Let me say that again. Eleven pages. Plus quotes on the inside cover, plus three more on the back cover.
Eleven pages. That isn’t persuasion, that is harassment. That is intimidation. That is bludgeoning the audacious blogger into submission. You wouldn’t dare (would you?) disagree with ALL the prestigious British broadsheets, with Salon, Vogue and Marie Claire, with Kirkus Review, Booklist and Publisher’s Weekly. With The Washington Post and (deep intake of breath) Michiko Kakatuni in The New York Times??? You, a mere amateur could not possibly be so presumptuous as to claim to know better than these august professionals?
Well, yes, I could. (Is anyone surprised?)
Naturally I can only prove a point by finding fault, so imagine my initial disappointment when I had to admit that there was really quite a lot right with this novel. The writing is sharp and fresh, the basic premise is not entirely without interest, and Ms Waldman, a journalist herself, is unafraid, indeed reckless in her eagerness to do the dirty on one of her gild who manipulates and manoeuvres, distorts and deceives and betrays with little concern for the collateral damage. But I was soon most gratified to find that the story began to drag. When you get to chapter 8 and 9 and there are yet more new characters turning up, then you begin to wonder quite where this is going to go. The trouble is, this is a novel of ideas, and ambitious too. So every single nuance of opinion on both sides of the dividing line has to be represented. And I’m afraid that is where the people remained: in the debating club, representing a Point of View. They never got legs and ran.
Which of course begs a question: had Michiko Kakatuni been knocked senseless on the day she compared The Submission (favourably) to The Bonfire of the Vanities? No, no, no. Although the publishers included every review they could find, it goes without saying that they selected their passages very carefully. Let me insert what they omitted: ...she lacks Richard Price’s pitch-perfect ear for dialogue and instinctive sense of pacing... or the evolution of Claire’s thinking about the memorial may not make that much sense to the reader — this and the cartoony portrait of Alyssa are the novel’s two big flaws.... Funny that. Eleven pages, but no room for those remarks.
January 11, 2012
This is one of the best novels I've read in years. The book is so well-plotted and thoughtful that at times I forgot it was fiction. It's set in 2003, when a committee is selecting a design for a 9/11 memorial in New York City. The competition was anonymous, and a firestorm erupts when it's learned that the winning designer was a Muslim American.
The book follows several different people: a newspaper reporter, a wealthy 9/11 widow, the chairman of the memorial committee, the Muslim architect, an illegal immigrant who is also a 9/11 widow, and the brother of a firefighter killed in the tower collapse.
Most of the families of the 9/11 victims do not want a Muslim designing their memorial. Broadcasters and columnists question whether the architect is a terrorist sympathizer. The truth is that the architect wanted to create a memorial that would help heal the victims, but few would bother to listen to him.
I think I reacted so strongly to the book because of its portrayal of how divided America has become, especially in the polarizing rhetoric of the politicians and the media. The book is filled with characters who are trying to do good or what they think is right, but from the reader's omniscient perspective, the actions and motives are questionable. The story is haunting not just because of what happened on 9/11, but because of everything that has happened since.
The book follows several different people: a newspaper reporter, a wealthy 9/11 widow, the chairman of the memorial committee, the Muslim architect, an illegal immigrant who is also a 9/11 widow, and the brother of a firefighter killed in the tower collapse.
Most of the families of the 9/11 victims do not want a Muslim designing their memorial. Broadcasters and columnists question whether the architect is a terrorist sympathizer. The truth is that the architect wanted to create a memorial that would help heal the victims, but few would bother to listen to him.
I think I reacted so strongly to the book because of its portrayal of how divided America has become, especially in the polarizing rhetoric of the politicians and the media. The book is filled with characters who are trying to do good or what they think is right, but from the reader's omniscient perspective, the actions and motives are questionable. The story is haunting not just because of what happened on 9/11, but because of everything that has happened since.
September 9, 2011
A Muslim American named Mohammad "Mo" Khan wins a blind design contest for NYC's WTC memorial? That premise alone tells Amy Waldman's debut novel is a work of fiction, but the events that swirl around the submission proves to be an all too true examination of post-9/11 America.
I found the novel to be quite reminiscent of what has been my favorite/best post-9/11 novel to-date, Colum McCann's Let the Great World Spin. Both novels operate under a similar structure, a large and swirling cast of characters creating a multi-perspective patchwork quilt of a story. Tonally, they are quite different. McCann's novel (taking place in 1970s NYC) was lyrical and poignant tale of grief and loss that slyly evoked 9/11 whereas Waldman's work is a bold, provocative, and quite raw take of the lingering emotional aftermath of that day -- great companion pieces that I could easily see being paired up by literature classes.
There is so much gray area in this novel. Readers are continually challenged to re-think what they think they really think.. got that?! Allegiances and empathy for various characters are in constant flux. For instance, and especially as someone likely tagged as a liberal elitist, I intellectually and emotionally would not have an issue with a Muslim rightfully winning such a design competition, but could also understand why it may not be the best idea for the country, the architect, or Muslims in general.
While the novel is Mo's architectural contest submission, the theme of submitting/being submissive to and by peer pressure, politics/political correctness, the media is a theme that will have book clubs debating for hours. Also debate fueling, I'd be curious what a more politically right-leaning reader would have to this novel as I think it does play to left/liberal slant (Waldman is a former co-chief of the South Asia bureau of The New York Times).
Overall, I'd rate The Submission a 4.5 stars. I was close to rounding it up to 5 stars for Goodreads, but felt it lost some steam in parts and was a bit conflicted about the ending which felt a tad tacked on/trying to tie things up in a neat bow in what had been so murky/muck-ily thought-provoking throughout.
I found the novel to be quite reminiscent of what has been my favorite/best post-9/11 novel to-date, Colum McCann's Let the Great World Spin. Both novels operate under a similar structure, a large and swirling cast of characters creating a multi-perspective patchwork quilt of a story. Tonally, they are quite different. McCann's novel (taking place in 1970s NYC) was lyrical and poignant tale of grief and loss that slyly evoked 9/11 whereas Waldman's work is a bold, provocative, and quite raw take of the lingering emotional aftermath of that day -- great companion pieces that I could easily see being paired up by literature classes.
There is so much gray area in this novel. Readers are continually challenged to re-think what they think they really think.. got that?! Allegiances and empathy for various characters are in constant flux. For instance, and especially as someone likely tagged as a liberal elitist, I intellectually and emotionally would not have an issue with a Muslim rightfully winning such a design competition, but could also understand why it may not be the best idea for the country, the architect, or Muslims in general.
While the novel is Mo's architectural contest submission, the theme of submitting/being submissive to and by peer pressure, politics/political correctness, the media is a theme that will have book clubs debating for hours. Also debate fueling, I'd be curious what a more politically right-leaning reader would have to this novel as I think it does play to left/liberal slant (Waldman is a former co-chief of the South Asia bureau of The New York Times).
Overall, I'd rate The Submission a 4.5 stars. I was close to rounding it up to 5 stars for Goodreads, but felt it lost some steam in parts and was a bit conflicted about the ending which felt a tad tacked on/trying to tie things up in a neat bow in what had been so murky/muck-ily thought-provoking throughout.
May 19, 2023
Pearl Rule #5 (p47)
Rating: 3* of five
The Publisher Says: Ten years after 9/11, a dazzling, kaleidoscopic novel reimagines its aftermath and wonders what would happen if a Muslim-American was blindly chosen to plan the World Trade Center Memorial.
Claire Harwell hasn't settled into grief; events haven't let her. Cool, eloquent, raising two fatherless children, Claire has emerged as the most visible of the widows who became a potent political force in the aftermath of the catastrophe. She longs for her husband, but she has found her mission: she sits on a jury charged with selecting a fitting memorial for the victims of the attack.
Of the thousands of anonymous submissions that she and her fellow jurors examine, one transfixes Claire: a garden on whose walls the names of the dead are inscribed. But when the winning envelope is opened, they find the designer is Mohammad Khan - Mo - an enigmatic Muslim-American who, it seems, feels no need to represent anyone's beliefs except his own. When the design and its creator are leaked, a media firestorm erupts, and Claire finds herself trying to balance principles against emotions amid escalating tensions about the place of Islam in America.
A remarkably bold and ambitious debut, The Submission is peopled with journalists, activists, mourners, and bureaucrats who struggle for advantage and fight for their ideals. In this deeply humane novel, the breadth of Amy Waldman's cast of characters is matched by her startling ability to conjure individual lives from their own points of view. A striking portrait of a city - and a country - fractured by old hatreds and new struggles, The Submission is a major novel by an important new talent.
I RECEIVED AN ARC FROM THE PUBLISHER AGES AGO. FINALLY GOT SOME OF IT READ.
My Review: This rubbed me the wrong way:
Yes yes yes, I know I'm not supposed to like these yahoos. I know the exoticization of the "third-world" people and culture are presented as the problem. But I just don't want to read it.
I have no quarrel with the author's wordsmithery, apart from finding it a bit too predictable for me to wax enthusiastic about. Overall, the story isn't calling to me, the characters are facile, the prose is adequate but no more. Not for me, considering how few eyeblinks I have left to me.
Rating: 3* of five
The Publisher Says: Ten years after 9/11, a dazzling, kaleidoscopic novel reimagines its aftermath and wonders what would happen if a Muslim-American was blindly chosen to plan the World Trade Center Memorial.
Claire Harwell hasn't settled into grief; events haven't let her. Cool, eloquent, raising two fatherless children, Claire has emerged as the most visible of the widows who became a potent political force in the aftermath of the catastrophe. She longs for her husband, but she has found her mission: she sits on a jury charged with selecting a fitting memorial for the victims of the attack.
Of the thousands of anonymous submissions that she and her fellow jurors examine, one transfixes Claire: a garden on whose walls the names of the dead are inscribed. But when the winning envelope is opened, they find the designer is Mohammad Khan - Mo - an enigmatic Muslim-American who, it seems, feels no need to represent anyone's beliefs except his own. When the design and its creator are leaked, a media firestorm erupts, and Claire finds herself trying to balance principles against emotions amid escalating tensions about the place of Islam in America.
A remarkably bold and ambitious debut, The Submission is peopled with journalists, activists, mourners, and bureaucrats who struggle for advantage and fight for their ideals. In this deeply humane novel, the breadth of Amy Waldman's cast of characters is matched by her startling ability to conjure individual lives from their own points of view. A striking portrait of a city - and a country - fractured by old hatreds and new struggles, The Submission is a major novel by an important new talent.
I RECEIVED AN ARC FROM THE PUBLISHER AGES AGO. FINALLY GOT SOME OF IT READ.
My Review: This rubbed me the wrong way:
To Mo the ruins had a timeless quality.
"The way of all fucked-up third-world countries," his seatmate said.
They were left for dinner at a French restaurant hidden behind high earthen walls. There was a garden draped with grapevines, a small apple orchard, and a swimming pool full of Europeans and Americans dive-bombing each other. Chlorine and marjoram and marijuana and frying butter mingled in an unfamiliar, heady mix.
"Wonder what the Afghans think of this," one of the architects said, waving his hand to take in the bikinied women and beery men.
"They're not allowed in," said Mo's seatmate from the van. "Why do you think they checked our passports? It's better if they don't know what they're missing."
"Hot chicks and fruit trees: they're missing their own paradise," said someone else at the table —Mo hadn't bothered to remember most of their names. "I'm surprised they're not blowing themselves up to get in here."
"Some of them don't have to," his seatmate from the van said, his eyes on Mo.
Yes yes yes, I know I'm not supposed to like these yahoos. I know the exoticization of the "third-world" people and culture are presented as the problem. But I just don't want to read it.
I have no quarrel with the author's wordsmithery, apart from finding it a bit too predictable for me to wax enthusiastic about. Overall, the story isn't calling to me, the characters are facile, the prose is adequate but no more. Not for me, considering how few eyeblinks I have left to me.
January 9, 2012
I felt this book on a visceral level. It sucked me in, lit a rage fire in my belly, drove me up the wall, and broke my heart. A panoramic depiction of a series of fictional post-9/11 events, this is an important book for Americans to read. And don't let the adjective "important" trick you into thinking this is anywhere in the same universe as boring. I ripped through this motherf---er like it was HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS. Recommend, recommend, recommend.
May 16, 2017
The Submission was published 10 years after 9/11. It imagines a competition for a national memorial at Ground Zero with the winning design being by a Muslim-American architect Mohammed (Mo) Khan. Khan immigrated with his parents as a child from India, grew up in a fairly secular middle class way, and got his architecture degree at Yale. He works for a very successful architectural firm with an international reputation, and enters the competition almost on a whim.
When the jurors who selected his design discover the architect is Muslim, they are stunned into a temporary paralysis. The group is chaired by Paul Rubin, and populated with various “artistic types”, with a single representative of families of victims, the wealthy widow Claire Burwell. While the committee tries to sit on news of their choice, it is leaked, unleashing a firestorm of protest both nationally and internationally. Opposition to the choice of Khan, and support for his right to be selected. The controversy occupies most of the novel. While it is hard to imagine how this premise could sustain over 300 pages, it doesn’t feel drawn out. This is due primarily to the character of Mo Khan. He is inflexible, infuriating in his refusal to answer questions about his design, inspiration, religiosity, aspirations, etc. The range of reactions to him across the world are unpredictable, and in this novel as complicated as real life responses.
There is an infuriating tabloid reporter who serves her purpose, and just managed not to be too annoying. Perhaps the most sympathetic character is Asma Anwar, a Bangladeshi woman, and new mother, who lost her husband in the attack. She is Muslim, and they are undocumented. She is also a very intelligent woman, although she speaks no English, is quite young, and lives secluded within the Bangladeshi, Bengali-speaking community in New York. There are a number of jingoistic characters, who may have seemed pure inventions when this book was published in 2011. However, in the past few months of the 2016 Presidential race, we have been exposed repeatedly to outrageous statements and xenophobic charges from one of the candidates. I felt that this was a very relevant book and one for our current climate. Waldman did not overuse her artistic license in creating the characters with the most reactionary points of view. Nor do her liberal characters hit any false notes.
The novel has its shortcomings. At time the writing and phrasing is gorgeous, and occasionally it seems a bit forced. Some of the characters’ motivations weren’t sufficiently clear including the widow on the jury, Claire Burwell. On the other hand, the complexities of the dilemma were presented in a convincing and thought-provoking way. It is a book I believe I will think about for some time. For that reason it merits 4.5 stars from me which I am bumping up to 5.
When the jurors who selected his design discover the architect is Muslim, they are stunned into a temporary paralysis. The group is chaired by Paul Rubin, and populated with various “artistic types”, with a single representative of families of victims, the wealthy widow Claire Burwell. While the committee tries to sit on news of their choice, it is leaked, unleashing a firestorm of protest both nationally and internationally. Opposition to the choice of Khan, and support for his right to be selected. The controversy occupies most of the novel. While it is hard to imagine how this premise could sustain over 300 pages, it doesn’t feel drawn out. This is due primarily to the character of Mo Khan. He is inflexible, infuriating in his refusal to answer questions about his design, inspiration, religiosity, aspirations, etc. The range of reactions to him across the world are unpredictable, and in this novel as complicated as real life responses.
There is an infuriating tabloid reporter who serves her purpose, and just managed not to be too annoying. Perhaps the most sympathetic character is Asma Anwar, a Bangladeshi woman, and new mother, who lost her husband in the attack. She is Muslim, and they are undocumented. She is also a very intelligent woman, although she speaks no English, is quite young, and lives secluded within the Bangladeshi, Bengali-speaking community in New York. There are a number of jingoistic characters, who may have seemed pure inventions when this book was published in 2011. However, in the past few months of the 2016 Presidential race, we have been exposed repeatedly to outrageous statements and xenophobic charges from one of the candidates. I felt that this was a very relevant book and one for our current climate. Waldman did not overuse her artistic license in creating the characters with the most reactionary points of view. Nor do her liberal characters hit any false notes.
The novel has its shortcomings. At time the writing and phrasing is gorgeous, and occasionally it seems a bit forced. Some of the characters’ motivations weren’t sufficiently clear including the widow on the jury, Claire Burwell. On the other hand, the complexities of the dilemma were presented in a convincing and thought-provoking way. It is a book I believe I will think about for some time. For that reason it merits 4.5 stars from me which I am bumping up to 5.
December 20, 2011
The Submission made my ten best books for 2011. It is an extremely thought provoking read that I would recommend to anyone, especially those who may be scared or ignorant of the Muslim religion.
This story takes place in 2003 NYC. They city has assembled a group of judges, who accept, and wade through, submissions for a memorial at the site of the twin towers. The group decides they do not want to know who the designer is until they have made a final decision as to which design they want to use. After the judges make there decision, the name of the architect is unveiled, unleashing a torrent of emotion. The winner is Mohammad Khan and american-born, non-practicing Muslim. Then ensues the debate not just among-st the judges, but among-st the public after the information is leaked.
What follows is the authors methodical and thorough display what arises. We see the turmoil between the jurors and the riot of emotion from the public, especially people who lost a family member on 9/11. The author does an excellent job of showing you both sides of the picture, from Mohammad Khan's exasperation about the controversy, to the public outcry of the Muslim's building their paradise at ground zero in celebration of their achievement. We also get a glimpse in to the media and how they spin it.
The novels conclusion is several years in to the future and is sure to give you goosebumps. I know I have not done the book justice with this review and I'm not sure I have what it takes to get across the immense importance of this piece of literature, but I will say this is a book I could see reading a second time. Not only is it that good, but there is much to be learned from Ms. Waldman's presentation of this story.
This story takes place in 2003 NYC. They city has assembled a group of judges, who accept, and wade through, submissions for a memorial at the site of the twin towers. The group decides they do not want to know who the designer is until they have made a final decision as to which design they want to use. After the judges make there decision, the name of the architect is unveiled, unleashing a torrent of emotion. The winner is Mohammad Khan and american-born, non-practicing Muslim. Then ensues the debate not just among-st the judges, but among-st the public after the information is leaked.
What follows is the authors methodical and thorough display what arises. We see the turmoil between the jurors and the riot of emotion from the public, especially people who lost a family member on 9/11. The author does an excellent job of showing you both sides of the picture, from Mohammad Khan's exasperation about the controversy, to the public outcry of the Muslim's building their paradise at ground zero in celebration of their achievement. We also get a glimpse in to the media and how they spin it.
The novels conclusion is several years in to the future and is sure to give you goosebumps. I know I have not done the book justice with this review and I'm not sure I have what it takes to get across the immense importance of this piece of literature, but I will say this is a book I could see reading a second time. Not only is it that good, but there is much to be learned from Ms. Waldman's presentation of this story.
March 12, 2024
The Secret To Being At Peace
"Perhaps this was the secret to being at peace: want nothing but what is given to you." So observes a woman named Asma Haque, an illegal immigrant from Bangladesh whose husband died on September 11 in New York City. Asma is a pivotal character in Amy Waldman's much-discussed first novel "The Submission" (2011). Set two years after September 11, Waldman's novel explores the commemoration of the event. A carefully chosen blind jury choses a design for a geometrically-shaped garden to commemorate the tragedy of the day. When it made its decision, the jury was unaware that an American Muslim, Mohammad ("Mo") Kahn, an architect and a secular individual, had designed and "submitted" the proposal. Waldman's novel explores the outcry and controversy that resulted from the selection of a Muslim to design a memorial to the victims of the terrorist attack.
It is difficult to write a novel about a political event still fresh in the mind. Even more so, it is difficult to write fiction convincingly when setting up a problematical hypothesis and exploring its claimed implications and possibilities. Such situations are more frequently explored as law school or ethics class problems (the problem of the "runaway trolley", for example, for those familiar with current literature in ethics), rather than in novels demanding the development of stories, specifics and characters. There is a danger of didacticism. I thought Waldman's novel alternatively fell into this predicament and then managed to escape from it. I was in turns infuriated and moved. Much of the book is polemical with the chief targets, as might be expected, American conservatives. But the book, however falteringly, rises above politics. The novel is thoughtful and absorbing and, with some reluctance, I thought it succeeded.
Although the novel includes stereotypical character types and situations, the protagonists are generally fleshed out sufficiently to become believable. The primary character, Mohammad Kahn, is a gifted architect and an assimilated American who can be stubborn and set in his path when he is convinced he is right -- as in the scenario developed in the book, he may well be. Other characters include a rabble-rousing conservative talk show host and several mostly unsympathetic opponents to Kahn's design who act in the book from their undifferentiated hostility to Islam. The book's characters include an ambitious, aggressive reporter who helps fan the controversy, members of the jury who must respond to the public outcry, the Governor of New York, a woman and a Democrat who tries to exploit the crisis to promote her presidential ambitions, and more. Underlying it all is trying to find the "right" thing to do in an apparently intractable situation. Waldman explores different ways of determining what might be the "right" thing to do. Thus some of the characters want to act from what they see as principle, with no compromise. Other characters think that determining the "right" solution must include an element of pragmatism and compromise, including seeing the issue in part from the perspective of one's opponents. Still other characters act primarily from expediency or self-interest.
While focusing on the planned memorial, Waldman's novel also examines other issues in American culture and looks at various ways of resolving differences. Thus a major secondary issue of the book, not the only one, is gender and the unresolved tensions not far below the surface in the contemporary United States in the way people see gender roles. Some of the book is painful with moments of stridency alternating with moments of a good amount of insight.
The studied ambiguity of the novel's title tells much about it. At its simplest level the "Submission" refers to Mohammad Kahn's entry in the memorial design competition. "Submission" to the Will of God is also a key component of Islam. But the broader meaning of "submission" involves self and self-identity and when to act upon them and when they might be given up. Questions of individual identity and selfhood permeate American life and this novel. Waldman's book explores compromising one's principles, even if deeply held, and when this may be properly done. Again, in Waldman's book the question occurs in the context of the memorial and in the context of various gender-related issues. The deeper question is differentiating principle from selfhood, an issue at the center of a good deal of religious and philosophical thought. It is the question which Asma Hague tries to answer in the sentence which opens this review. It is also a question that Mohammad Kahn asks himself on several occasions, most prominently during a visit to Afghanistan that is not recounted until late in the novel. Nonreligious himself, Kahn observes an Afghan man prostrate himself in prayer in a lonely garden. Absorbed in prayer, the man is oblivious to his surroundings. Waldman and Kahn observe:
"But today, the Afghan, deep in his prostrations, did not acknowledge Mo, even as together they formed a line, a wall, a mosque; he cared not at all for Mo's judgment. He had forgotten himself, and this was the truest submission."
A frustrating but good novel, "The Submission" reminded me of the difficult tasks of letting go of oneself, both in individual and in communal life.
Robin Friedman
"Perhaps this was the secret to being at peace: want nothing but what is given to you." So observes a woman named Asma Haque, an illegal immigrant from Bangladesh whose husband died on September 11 in New York City. Asma is a pivotal character in Amy Waldman's much-discussed first novel "The Submission" (2011). Set two years after September 11, Waldman's novel explores the commemoration of the event. A carefully chosen blind jury choses a design for a geometrically-shaped garden to commemorate the tragedy of the day. When it made its decision, the jury was unaware that an American Muslim, Mohammad ("Mo") Kahn, an architect and a secular individual, had designed and "submitted" the proposal. Waldman's novel explores the outcry and controversy that resulted from the selection of a Muslim to design a memorial to the victims of the terrorist attack.
It is difficult to write a novel about a political event still fresh in the mind. Even more so, it is difficult to write fiction convincingly when setting up a problematical hypothesis and exploring its claimed implications and possibilities. Such situations are more frequently explored as law school or ethics class problems (the problem of the "runaway trolley", for example, for those familiar with current literature in ethics), rather than in novels demanding the development of stories, specifics and characters. There is a danger of didacticism. I thought Waldman's novel alternatively fell into this predicament and then managed to escape from it. I was in turns infuriated and moved. Much of the book is polemical with the chief targets, as might be expected, American conservatives. But the book, however falteringly, rises above politics. The novel is thoughtful and absorbing and, with some reluctance, I thought it succeeded.
Although the novel includes stereotypical character types and situations, the protagonists are generally fleshed out sufficiently to become believable. The primary character, Mohammad Kahn, is a gifted architect and an assimilated American who can be stubborn and set in his path when he is convinced he is right -- as in the scenario developed in the book, he may well be. Other characters include a rabble-rousing conservative talk show host and several mostly unsympathetic opponents to Kahn's design who act in the book from their undifferentiated hostility to Islam. The book's characters include an ambitious, aggressive reporter who helps fan the controversy, members of the jury who must respond to the public outcry, the Governor of New York, a woman and a Democrat who tries to exploit the crisis to promote her presidential ambitions, and more. Underlying it all is trying to find the "right" thing to do in an apparently intractable situation. Waldman explores different ways of determining what might be the "right" thing to do. Thus some of the characters want to act from what they see as principle, with no compromise. Other characters think that determining the "right" solution must include an element of pragmatism and compromise, including seeing the issue in part from the perspective of one's opponents. Still other characters act primarily from expediency or self-interest.
While focusing on the planned memorial, Waldman's novel also examines other issues in American culture and looks at various ways of resolving differences. Thus a major secondary issue of the book, not the only one, is gender and the unresolved tensions not far below the surface in the contemporary United States in the way people see gender roles. Some of the book is painful with moments of stridency alternating with moments of a good amount of insight.
The studied ambiguity of the novel's title tells much about it. At its simplest level the "Submission" refers to Mohammad Kahn's entry in the memorial design competition. "Submission" to the Will of God is also a key component of Islam. But the broader meaning of "submission" involves self and self-identity and when to act upon them and when they might be given up. Questions of individual identity and selfhood permeate American life and this novel. Waldman's book explores compromising one's principles, even if deeply held, and when this may be properly done. Again, in Waldman's book the question occurs in the context of the memorial and in the context of various gender-related issues. The deeper question is differentiating principle from selfhood, an issue at the center of a good deal of religious and philosophical thought. It is the question which Asma Hague tries to answer in the sentence which opens this review. It is also a question that Mohammad Kahn asks himself on several occasions, most prominently during a visit to Afghanistan that is not recounted until late in the novel. Nonreligious himself, Kahn observes an Afghan man prostrate himself in prayer in a lonely garden. Absorbed in prayer, the man is oblivious to his surroundings. Waldman and Kahn observe:
"But today, the Afghan, deep in his prostrations, did not acknowledge Mo, even as together they formed a line, a wall, a mosque; he cared not at all for Mo's judgment. He had forgotten himself, and this was the truest submission."
A frustrating but good novel, "The Submission" reminded me of the difficult tasks of letting go of oneself, both in individual and in communal life.
Robin Friedman
August 13, 2016
I prefer novels and stories that deal with 9/11 obliquely, like Saturday by McEwan, Deborah Eisenberg's "Twilight of the Superheroes," maybe Netherland by O'Neill, and especially James Hynes's Next. So for me this was not the "9/11 novel we have been waiting for," and which Maureen Corrigan gushed about as being "poetic and polemical."
I thought Waldman's best writing was in the longer descriptive passages. There is a scene near the end in which the reader is taken back to the architect's business trip to Afghanistan where he finds himself alone in the slums of Kabul searching for a restroom, and he happens upon the green garden of a Mogul emperor (a garden, the reader realizes, that did, in fact, in a complicated and non-religious way, inspire his subsequent secular memorial garden design). At this alien-but-familiar place he "had forgotten himself, and this was the truest submission."
I appreciated the painful humor of the architect-character Mohammed Khan's answer to his obviously ignorant interrogator's question about what kind of Muslim he was. A "Shi'a Wahhabist," he answers (a combination that is transparently ridiculous and causes the other man great embarrassment once it's explained). I also liked that a character late in the novel points out the irony of another American man with the name "Kahn" (Louis Kahn) having designed the Parliament building for the Muslim nation of Bangladesh.
I had a problem with the stereotypical characters and situations. It seemed like Waldman chose her characters based on pre-existing stereotypes (the society wife with the art degree, the apolitical ambitious reporter, the aggrieved right-winger, a bombastic radio talk-show host . . . ) and then she put effort into fleshing them out, giving them depth and idiosyncrasies, but they never completely got past their stereotypes. Why not? Maybe because the plot is idea-driven and the dialogue was often stilted and expositional: the characters are mouthpieces who make speeches through their dialogue. For example, a character who appears and then vanishes from the stage at the 2/3 mark gets this soliloquy put in his mouth: "No one's interested in my point of view. Like a lot of Americans, I've felt really helpless the past few years, powerless to stop the change in this country's direction, and bolstering you is a way to do something. Look, I'm not saying it's easy, I know there are all kinds of pressures, but this really matters. You need to be strong. There's no evidence our Muslim population is a threat; why should we make them one?" There was too much of this sort of speechifying throughout the story.
I liked the end of the novel, with the jump ahead twenty years and the characters still searching for answers, and the image of the parallel garden the architect built after the 9/11 memorial was cancelled. The conclusion left a haunting and thoughtful image in my mind.
I thought Waldman's best writing was in the longer descriptive passages. There is a scene near the end in which the reader is taken back to the architect's business trip to Afghanistan where he finds himself alone in the slums of Kabul searching for a restroom, and he happens upon the green garden of a Mogul emperor (a garden, the reader realizes, that did, in fact, in a complicated and non-religious way, inspire his subsequent secular memorial garden design). At this alien-but-familiar place he "had forgotten himself, and this was the truest submission."
I appreciated the painful humor of the architect-character Mohammed Khan's answer to his obviously ignorant interrogator's question about what kind of Muslim he was. A "Shi'a Wahhabist," he answers (a combination that is transparently ridiculous and causes the other man great embarrassment once it's explained). I also liked that a character late in the novel points out the irony of another American man with the name "Kahn" (Louis Kahn) having designed the Parliament building for the Muslim nation of Bangladesh.
I had a problem with the stereotypical characters and situations. It seemed like Waldman chose her characters based on pre-existing stereotypes (the society wife with the art degree, the apolitical ambitious reporter, the aggrieved right-winger, a bombastic radio talk-show host . . . ) and then she put effort into fleshing them out, giving them depth and idiosyncrasies, but they never completely got past their stereotypes. Why not? Maybe because the plot is idea-driven and the dialogue was often stilted and expositional: the characters are mouthpieces who make speeches through their dialogue. For example, a character who appears and then vanishes from the stage at the 2/3 mark gets this soliloquy put in his mouth: "No one's interested in my point of view. Like a lot of Americans, I've felt really helpless the past few years, powerless to stop the change in this country's direction, and bolstering you is a way to do something. Look, I'm not saying it's easy, I know there are all kinds of pressures, but this really matters. You need to be strong. There's no evidence our Muslim population is a threat; why should we make them one?" There was too much of this sort of speechifying throughout the story.
I liked the end of the novel, with the jump ahead twenty years and the characters still searching for answers, and the image of the parallel garden the architect built after the 9/11 memorial was cancelled. The conclusion left a haunting and thoughtful image in my mind.
September 24, 2011
This is an excellent lesson in humility. It is impossible to sit and read It smugly,at least for me. As abhorrent as many of the views and reactions of the characters were, I realized that it was difficult not to find myself rationalizing their pettiness. Reading THE SUBMISSION was uncomfortable, with characters all too familiar and human. This is a superb read.
September 29, 2011
I started this book on the anniversary of 9/11, based on a rave review on NPR by Maureen Corrigan. To quote: "The Submission distinguishes itself by its panoramic scope and, also, by the ease with which it pulls off the literary magic trick of being at once poetic and polemical." Uh, no. Forget the poetic, and the polemic is just confused. This book read like it had a laundry list of issues it had to cover, including class, anti-Muslim fervor in the wake of the attacks, immigration and ethnic identities...they're all there, but they don't add up to a coherent whole. Character development is so superficial that you get each of the characters within the first few pages of their introduction, and they skate the surface of every conflict and connection, revealing nothing new or surprising. The dramatic climax is oddly flat and bloodless, and the end is just weak. Big disappointment.
August 9, 2013
I thought this book was thoughtful and well-written, but ultimately too schematic and idea-bound, more like a framework for debate than a novel. And many of the characters failed to rise above caricature.
Yes, it's a theme worth exploring, and it's a very courageous choice to make both the hero and the heroine somewhat dislikeable prigs - it makes the book's conundrums that much more challenging. But for a book about the most traumatic day in my city's history, it happens all in your head, nowhere near your heart.
Someone called it "the 9/11 book." For me, the books that capture the bewildered oblique dread and melancholy of the post-attack period - Netherland in particular, or the Emperor's Children - hit closer to home. Still Waldman's book is thoughtful and at times almost inspired.
Yes, it's a theme worth exploring, and it's a very courageous choice to make both the hero and the heroine somewhat dislikeable prigs - it makes the book's conundrums that much more challenging. But for a book about the most traumatic day in my city's history, it happens all in your head, nowhere near your heart.
Someone called it "the 9/11 book." For me, the books that capture the bewildered oblique dread and melancholy of the post-attack period - Netherland in particular, or the Emperor's Children - hit closer to home. Still Waldman's book is thoughtful and at times almost inspired.
January 6, 2012
This novel felt so true to life that I often wondered if it had already happened. Waldman sets up a hypothesis and portrays the resulting scenarios in a frighteningly accurate way. Any possible thought or action that could be expected in such a situation is touched upon. Hearing from the different people involved allows us to gain more sympathy for the varying perspectives. At first when I realized the last chapter was set 20 years in the future, I was annoyed; it was an abrupt plot device. But as I read on and closed the book after the last line, I was content with the knowledge that it is a befitting, touching end.
February 14, 2012
What if the winner of the anonymous contest to design a memorial at the World Trade Center site turned out to be Muslim? "The Submission" imagines the answer to that question, and it's not pretty. Basically, it's the post 9/11 version of "The Bonfire of the Vanities", but without the snark.
Waldman does a competent job of orchestrating her nightmare scenario, which is chillingly plausible. But this story trades exclusively in stereotypes - unscrupulous reporters, the governor with higher political aspirations, waffling liberals, radio shock jocks, emotionally volatile survivors, opportunistic peddlers of identity politics, idealistic crusaders for truth and the American way, and the requisite sacrifical lamb. So it was hard to care about most of the characters; in particular, despite Waldman's best efforts, the character of Claire Burwell remains murky and unconvincing. But I give credit to Waldman for not messing up the ending.
This is the kind of book that one imagines as being ideal fodder for book groups. But maybe not. It was a little too calculated for my liking. I recommend it nonetheless.
Waldman does a competent job of orchestrating her nightmare scenario, which is chillingly plausible. But this story trades exclusively in stereotypes - unscrupulous reporters, the governor with higher political aspirations, waffling liberals, radio shock jocks, emotionally volatile survivors, opportunistic peddlers of identity politics, idealistic crusaders for truth and the American way, and the requisite sacrifical lamb. So it was hard to care about most of the characters; in particular, despite Waldman's best efforts, the character of Claire Burwell remains murky and unconvincing. But I give credit to Waldman for not messing up the ending.
This is the kind of book that one imagines as being ideal fodder for book groups. But maybe not. It was a little too calculated for my liking. I recommend it nonetheless.
October 4, 2011
Really 4.5 stars. I read this during the week of the tenth anniversary of 9-11, and it was a fitting book to get me to think about what effect the event really had on our country.
This novel takes place two years after the 9-11 attacks. A jury has been set up to judge entries submitted for a 9-11 memorial. All entries are anonymous, and the jury is shocked when they discover that the entry they pick was created by an American named Mohammed Khan. The story is about the fallout.
The novel includes several story lines that follow various very different characters whose lives all eventually touch each others - the architect, Mohammed Khan, who submitted the entry; a 9-11 widow on the jury; the brother of an Irish firefighter from an outer borough who was killed in the rescue efforts; a Muslim illegal immigrant who was widowed in the attacks; the retired uppercrust banker who is chair of the jury. The author deftly weaves their narratives together to explore the intertwining of politics, religion, morality & art.
This novel takes place two years after the 9-11 attacks. A jury has been set up to judge entries submitted for a 9-11 memorial. All entries are anonymous, and the jury is shocked when they discover that the entry they pick was created by an American named Mohammed Khan. The story is about the fallout.
The novel includes several story lines that follow various very different characters whose lives all eventually touch each others - the architect, Mohammed Khan, who submitted the entry; a 9-11 widow on the jury; the brother of an Irish firefighter from an outer borough who was killed in the rescue efforts; a Muslim illegal immigrant who was widowed in the attacks; the retired uppercrust banker who is chair of the jury. The author deftly weaves their narratives together to explore the intertwining of politics, religion, morality & art.
April 4, 2019
Holy crap, that was intense....
January 7, 2013
.
Not only a wonderful book, but a book lauded with some outstanding reviews, five of which I list here..... I won’t be doing a review as such. It has all been said, and so much better than I can say it.
Jeanette (Netterooski)
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Teresa Lukey
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Michael Leccese
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Ed Z
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Lisa Eckstein
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
(I am going to do some bare bones write up notes as an aide memoire for my own use...)
Characters:
Mo (Mohammad Khan. ) Architect who submitted the winning entry for the competition to design a memorial for 9/11 at the World Trade Centre site. Muslim. Born in Virginia. He is sophisticated, and cool, cool, cool.
Claire Burwell – On the committee. Her role is to represent widows and widowers. Laywer. Harvard graduate. Attractive.
Paul Rubin – Chairman of committee. Sophisticated. Politically astute. Charming.
Sean Gallagher. Founder of the Memorial Support Committee. His brother, a fireman, died in 9/11. He’s passionate activist for issues arising from 9/11. Blinkered and angry.
Asma Anwar – Her Muslim husband was killed in 9/11. They originally came from Bangladeshi. She lives in Brooklyn, in a part known as ‘Little Dhaka’.
Geraldine Bitman – NY governor. Pulls strings behind the scenes.
Alyssa Spier – gutter journalist doing guttery things throughout the novel.
I liked Waldman's writing, herewith some snips:
‘They wandered up Third Avenue, the Empire State building a lantern held aloft to light their way.’
‘She entered and warmed the room like a small sun, and in her absence both he and the furniture seemed to be waiting to be brought to life.’
‘Mrs. Mahmoud slurped her tea and belched politely. She had twenty years, forty pounds, and several hundred gray hairs on Asma. Her talk was a solid object that filled the room, confining Asma to a tiny space.’
‘Like a junkie’s, her addiction had progressed from reading the news, to reporting it, to breaking it, then – the crack cocaine of her business – to shaping it.
What I liked most about the book...
The complexity of it – of the situation, the plot, the characters. It was fantastically real.
I also felt I learnt about a lot more about cheap journalism.
New words Waldman used that I couldn’t find in my old Chambers Dictionary....or at least not in the context she used them.
Ursine, manorexic, contrarian, bloviate, dhimmitude, retread.
Not only a wonderful book, but a book lauded with some outstanding reviews, five of which I list here..... I won’t be doing a review as such. It has all been said, and so much better than I can say it.
Jeanette (Netterooski)
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Teresa Lukey
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Michael Leccese
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Ed Z
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Lisa Eckstein
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
(I am going to do some bare bones write up notes as an aide memoire for my own use...)
Characters:
Mo (Mohammad Khan. ) Architect who submitted the winning entry for the competition to design a memorial for 9/11 at the World Trade Centre site. Muslim. Born in Virginia. He is sophisticated, and cool, cool, cool.
Claire Burwell – On the committee. Her role is to represent widows and widowers. Laywer. Harvard graduate. Attractive.
Paul Rubin – Chairman of committee. Sophisticated. Politically astute. Charming.
Sean Gallagher. Founder of the Memorial Support Committee. His brother, a fireman, died in 9/11. He’s passionate activist for issues arising from 9/11. Blinkered and angry.
Asma Anwar – Her Muslim husband was killed in 9/11. They originally came from Bangladeshi. She lives in Brooklyn, in a part known as ‘Little Dhaka’.
Geraldine Bitman – NY governor. Pulls strings behind the scenes.
Alyssa Spier – gutter journalist doing guttery things throughout the novel.
I liked Waldman's writing, herewith some snips:
‘They wandered up Third Avenue, the Empire State building a lantern held aloft to light their way.’
‘She entered and warmed the room like a small sun, and in her absence both he and the furniture seemed to be waiting to be brought to life.’
‘Mrs. Mahmoud slurped her tea and belched politely. She had twenty years, forty pounds, and several hundred gray hairs on Asma. Her talk was a solid object that filled the room, confining Asma to a tiny space.’
‘Like a junkie’s, her addiction had progressed from reading the news, to reporting it, to breaking it, then – the crack cocaine of her business – to shaping it.
What I liked most about the book...
The complexity of it – of the situation, the plot, the characters. It was fantastically real.
I also felt I learnt about a lot more about cheap journalism.
New words Waldman used that I couldn’t find in my old Chambers Dictionary....or at least not in the context she used them.
Ursine, manorexic, contrarian, bloviate, dhimmitude, retread.
January 31, 2020
The writing was gorgeous and made me look up words (which I love). It challenged my thinking and really gives a different perspective on post-9/11 America. The only part I felt lacked was the plot because not much actually happens in the novel and yet it's still a great novel. I'm glad I chose this as a book club selection because it will definitely generate great discussions and let us explore all of our different perspectives of what our lives were like post 9/11.
July 26, 2012
2.5 Stars
I think I may have made a tactical blunder in reading Mark Helprin's dazzling, strange and surreal homage to New York City Winter's Tale immediately before tackling The Submission. I thought that aligning those two books back-to-back would provide each of them an interesting counterpoint. Alas, Amy Waldman's post-9/11 tale is a moribund, contrived hand-wringing glop-fest that never really lives up to its critical acclaim.
The idea sounded great: a jury comprised primarily of cognoscenti of the artistic world and other influential people are tasked to cull through thousands of anonymous submissions for designing a 9/11 memorial near ground zero. The panel was able to come to near-consensus decision on one of the finalists, only to find out that the winner was of Muslim descent, which causes, predictably, a firestorm of protest from the conservative right. That's about it as far as the story goes, however. The p.o.v. shifts from one of the jury members (a wealthy, left leaning woman who was the only one on the jury to lose a loved one in 9/11), to the memorial design winner, Mohammed "Mo" Khan, a secular, non-practicing Muslim architect, born and raised in the United States.
The first two-thirds of the book are really pretty dull, with the focus on the jury's process and subsequent outcry. NPR critic Maureen Corrigan (who named The Submission in her Top Ten novels of 2011, and whose opinion I often concur with) mentioned specifically Ms. Waldman's facility with the English language, her poetics and polemics, her "startling use of verbs and metaphors". I could not disagree more with this assessment: I had trouble finding anything poignant or poetic in her leaden, unfocused prose, especially during the selection phase, when the jurors were at loggerheads trying to curry favor with the governor of NY, the mayor of NYC and the subsection of the populace whose xenophobia was fueled by the cartoonish rhetoric by pundits at Fox News and a Rush Limbaugh-esque radio buffoon. This overly long chunk of the book could've (and, perhaps, should've) benefitted from effective verbiage, but Ms. Waldman's barrage throughout this section was about as scattershot, ineffectual and annoying as dodging bird droppings from above. Couple that with the 1D cardboard cutout protagonists' mewling (or in the case of the memorial designer, seeming outward indifference to the outcry), and you're left with a novel (that uses, arguably, the single largest significant event in modern American times as its backdrop) that can't rise above the status of shrill drama.
Only the books' denouement (i.e. the last 30 pages or so) is its saving grace. That part did, indeed, evince the colorful, poetic prose the critic Ms. Corrigan alluded to. By the time I got there, though, Ms. Waldman all but lost me.
August 28, 2011
I am going to try to do this book justice, although my ability to write a compelling book review is sadly lacking (especially considering my current profession).
It is very rare for me to have such visceral reactions while reading books. This book led to moments of deep anger, complete sadness, and some despair (occasionally so deep that I felt the emotions in the pit of my stomach). Waldman's writing is wonderful, and the storyline is compelling (and very realistic).
At first the title seems straightforward: it refers to the plan submitted to the jury for what is assumed to be a 9/11 Memorial, a plan that after a blind process wins the contest and then is found to be designed by a Muslim. However, it is much more clever than that: it also refers to people's submission to fear, to anger, to self-righteousness, to group dynamics, to appearances, to pride. In other words, a much more psychological and less concrete "submission."
I thought Waldman's handling of the subject was even-handed; regardless of which side of the debate you would fall on, she did well in creating an environment where both sides (although not necessarily all people on each side) evoke empathy.
This is one of the best books I've read this year, and also one of the most though provoking. In terms of what has become known as the "9/11 Novel," this one is, as the NY Times said, a great memorial.
It is very rare for me to have such visceral reactions while reading books. This book led to moments of deep anger, complete sadness, and some despair (occasionally so deep that I felt the emotions in the pit of my stomach). Waldman's writing is wonderful, and the storyline is compelling (and very realistic).
At first the title seems straightforward: it refers to the plan submitted to the jury for what is assumed to be a 9/11 Memorial, a plan that after a blind process wins the contest and then is found to be designed by a Muslim. However, it is much more clever than that: it also refers to people's submission to fear, to anger, to self-righteousness, to group dynamics, to appearances, to pride. In other words, a much more psychological and less concrete "submission."
I thought Waldman's handling of the subject was even-handed; regardless of which side of the debate you would fall on, she did well in creating an environment where both sides (although not necessarily all people on each side) evoke empathy.
This is one of the best books I've read this year, and also one of the most though provoking. In terms of what has become known as the "9/11 Novel," this one is, as the NY Times said, a great memorial.
April 4, 2013
Despite some good jolts near the end, for me, this book was a let down. It felt more like a long editorial on Islam, Islamophobia... where the various characters spout off whatever point of view the author wishes to portray.
The story centers on submissions for architectural designs for a memorial to the victims of 9/11. After the jury has made a decision on the winner they discover that the architect is named Mohammed and is a Muslim, after which all hell breaks lose. The book never veers away from this topic and it becomes like a repetitive sledge hammer. I found the characters (if you can call them that) one dimensional; they were mouthpieces. Claire, I found to be simply irritating.
There are also some dangling threads.
The premise of the book is definitely an eye-catching subject matter – unfortunately it became rather predictable, it lacked character and nuance.
The story centers on submissions for architectural designs for a memorial to the victims of 9/11. After the jury has made a decision on the winner they discover that the architect is named Mohammed and is a Muslim, after which all hell breaks lose. The book never veers away from this topic and it becomes like a repetitive sledge hammer. I found the characters (if you can call them that) one dimensional; they were mouthpieces. Claire, I found to be simply irritating.
There are also some dangling threads.
The premise of the book is definitely an eye-catching subject matter – unfortunately it became rather predictable, it lacked character and nuance.
November 22, 2024
The title and plot description suggest a balanced approach to the position and treatment of muslims and perception of Islam in America after 9/11. Yet, the story is centered on the american view of Islam and the Islamic community in america shallowly circling the affair of the 'memorial' and largely neglecting the wrongful conflict and misrepresentation of Islam as a sponsor for terrorism, which can't be more wrong as it is.
Shockingly all Muslims in the book were portrayed as muslims only by name/ birth, and none of them (even the lead character) is a practicing muslim, so how can you present Islam to the non muslim reader using such characters? the book never touched the true concepts of Islam.
A very shallow story not well researched, and I can't see the point behind the plot. what is it trying to say? that after 9/11 americans were mostly united in their view of Islam as a synonym to terror? a fact well known.
Maybe another book looking into what brought the attacks, and american foreign policies would enlighten common people to the true reasons behind 9/11 rather than generalizing and falsely claiming the Islam is a religion of terror
MiM
Shockingly all Muslims in the book were portrayed as muslims only by name/ birth, and none of them (even the lead character) is a practicing muslim, so how can you present Islam to the non muslim reader using such characters? the book never touched the true concepts of Islam.
A very shallow story not well researched, and I can't see the point behind the plot. what is it trying to say? that after 9/11 americans were mostly united in their view of Islam as a synonym to terror? a fact well known.
Maybe another book looking into what brought the attacks, and american foreign policies would enlighten common people to the true reasons behind 9/11 rather than generalizing and falsely claiming the Islam is a religion of terror
MiM
April 11, 2013
When an anonymous architect's design of a 9/ 11 memorial is announced by the selecting jury and the winner is identified as a Muslim American, his selection stirs up bitter controversy across a traumatized, grieving nation. Defending Mohammad Khan's design, a memorial garden, is Claire Burwell, a widow whose husband was killed in the World Trade Center and who represents the families on the jury. However, tensions run high, and while some see the garden with its walls containing the names of the dead as a symbol of peace and tolerance, others question why a Muslim's design has been selected. In this wonderfully provocative debut novel, Amy Waldman gives us a glimpse of the firestorm that ensues. In exposing intolerance, prejudice and a story-hounding press, we see how out-of-control and paranoid the public becomes when stereotypical thinking prevails.
Powerful novel.
Powerful novel.
September 27, 2013
Waldman’s debut is a confident, hard-hitting contribution to the fund of post-9/11 New York stories. The Submission imagines what would have happened had New Yorkers chosen a 9/11 memorial design as soon as 2003 and – crucially – had the anonymous selection turned out to be by a Muslim architect named Mohammad Khan.
Khan’s plan is considered placid and innocuous, at least prior to the revelation of his identity. His memorial garden is rich in possible meanings and influences, with intersecting canals lending a pleasing geometric symmetry and cypress trees and metal tree sculptures playfully blurring the boundaries between the natural and the artificial. When a member of the memorial selection jury leaks the information about the designer’s name to the press, however, all hell breaks loose, and perfectly nice, reasonable people start to display some ugly bigotry.
As the clever double meaning of the title suggests, Waldman has educated herself about Islam’s doctrines and historical tenets. She includes an impressive range of characters and opinions, with good psychological explorations; however, Mohammad and Claire are not strong or deep enough to justify their place as central characters (Mohammad’s ‘conversion’ experience in the garden in Kabul doesn’t ring true, and I find it hard to buy the trajectory of Claire’s feelings about the design).
There is also, to this reader’s disappointment, a slight sense of typecasting: this is the compassionate family member, this is the obstreperous family member, this one’s the politically correct liberal, and so on. The most memorable character is Asma, the Bangladeshi illegal immigrant and unacknowledged 9/11 widow who steals the show at the hearing and later becomes a ‘martyr’, though not in the way Islamophobes denigrate. (Asma reminded me of the main character in Monica Ali’s Brick Lane , also a Muslim housewife from Bangladesh who begins to question her rights.)
I don’t much like the epilogue, in which the filming of a new documentary provides a retrospective twenty years after the memorial – it doesn’t seem a very sophisticated way of tidying up the loose ends; a deus ex machina approach somewhat spoils what has heretofore been an excellent book. Keeping us in suspense about whether Khan will withdraw his memorial entry is a good tactic, but a two-decade gap seems a bit extreme. We are also meant to believe that Mohammad and Claire’s differences are so intractable that they could only understand each other twenty years later, through the interference of Claire’s son William (the documentary’s photographer).
Apart from this inexpert handling of the memorial’s legacy, I think Waldman’s novel is a cracking debut. She includes an impressive range of characters and opinions and makes canny psychological explorations, only occasionally resorting to typecasting and stereotypes.
Overall, the novel employs a sensitive approach to the inflammatory issues of religion and tolerance in post-9/11 America. Her after-the-fact prescience (if that’s not an oxymoron) works surprisingly well, and, like Jennifer Egan does at the end of A Visit from the Goon Squad , she has produced what seems an entirely plausible version of New York in the near future. I look forward to whatever Waldman comes out with next.
(Part of this review was included in my article on 9/11 reflections for Bookkaholic.)
Khan’s plan is considered placid and innocuous, at least prior to the revelation of his identity. His memorial garden is rich in possible meanings and influences, with intersecting canals lending a pleasing geometric symmetry and cypress trees and metal tree sculptures playfully blurring the boundaries between the natural and the artificial. When a member of the memorial selection jury leaks the information about the designer’s name to the press, however, all hell breaks loose, and perfectly nice, reasonable people start to display some ugly bigotry.
As the clever double meaning of the title suggests, Waldman has educated herself about Islam’s doctrines and historical tenets. She includes an impressive range of characters and opinions, with good psychological explorations; however, Mohammad and Claire are not strong or deep enough to justify their place as central characters (Mohammad’s ‘conversion’ experience in the garden in Kabul doesn’t ring true, and I find it hard to buy the trajectory of Claire’s feelings about the design).
There is also, to this reader’s disappointment, a slight sense of typecasting: this is the compassionate family member, this is the obstreperous family member, this one’s the politically correct liberal, and so on. The most memorable character is Asma, the Bangladeshi illegal immigrant and unacknowledged 9/11 widow who steals the show at the hearing and later becomes a ‘martyr’, though not in the way Islamophobes denigrate. (Asma reminded me of the main character in Monica Ali’s Brick Lane , also a Muslim housewife from Bangladesh who begins to question her rights.)
I don’t much like the epilogue, in which the filming of a new documentary provides a retrospective twenty years after the memorial – it doesn’t seem a very sophisticated way of tidying up the loose ends; a deus ex machina approach somewhat spoils what has heretofore been an excellent book. Keeping us in suspense about whether Khan will withdraw his memorial entry is a good tactic, but a two-decade gap seems a bit extreme. We are also meant to believe that Mohammad and Claire’s differences are so intractable that they could only understand each other twenty years later, through the interference of Claire’s son William (the documentary’s photographer).
Apart from this inexpert handling of the memorial’s legacy, I think Waldman’s novel is a cracking debut. She includes an impressive range of characters and opinions and makes canny psychological explorations, only occasionally resorting to typecasting and stereotypes.
Overall, the novel employs a sensitive approach to the inflammatory issues of religion and tolerance in post-9/11 America. Her after-the-fact prescience (if that’s not an oxymoron) works surprisingly well, and, like Jennifer Egan does at the end of A Visit from the Goon Squad , she has produced what seems an entirely plausible version of New York in the near future. I look forward to whatever Waldman comes out with next.
(Part of this review was included in my article on 9/11 reflections for Bookkaholic.)
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