“The people who are exclusionary want to preserve what they have. They think others will take it all away from them.” -Misfit in Love, pg. 205
A great quote from Misfit in Love to serve as the epigraph for this article. First off, if you haven’t read my review for Saints and Misfits, you need to go do so before reading this one. (Click here to read Saints and Misfits review.) The reason being is because it will be much easier to follow this review if you’ve read my review on the first book. I rated Saints and Misfits 4.25/5 stars, which is a solid rating from me. Although, I mentioned a couple of holes that affected my rating of that book.
As for why the title of this new review is like it is? Well for one thing, I feel like Misfit in Love was a strong companion novel that filled in holes from the previous book. Another thing is this: just because a book review has an ordinary headline, doesn’t mean that my rating of it is going to be poor or mediocre. It’s just that I often think about using emotive headlines to attract attention to my substantial writing. And because of what I want to discuss in this new book review, I thought it was appropriate to have “Everything Right With Misfit in Love” as the headline. So, what’s everything right with it? I’ll explain that shortly. But of course, I shall begin with the synopsis and a trigger warning.
TW: Mentions of sexual assault trauma, divorce, a death, anti-Blackness, microaggressions, intercultural tensions, Islamomisia (aka Islamophobia). Spoilers also exist. Read at your own risk.
Synopsis: Misfit in Love is the companion novel to Saints and Misfits. Written by S.K. Ali, it takes place 2 years after the events of the first book happen. Janna Yusuf, now a high school graduate and a rising freshwoman at the University of Chicago, is the main character once again. She spends her summer away from her mom at dad’s house, also living with Linda (her stepmother) and Luke and Logan (her half brothers). There’s something exciting about to happen at her dad’s house. Her full brother, Muhammad, is getting married to Sarah in a Muslim marriage ceremony called a nikah.* That is supposed to be followed by an official wedding ceremony the year after.
While Janna is happy for Muhammad and her new sister-in-law Sarah, she also struggles with her own feelings about love. She has had crushes on her friend Nuah for a long time, but it’s mainly been in her head and she’s felt awkward saying anything about them. She also meets couple of other guys named Layth and Haytham. She met the latter at the beginning of the story while swimming in the lake at her dad’s house, while she met the former when her mother reconnected with an old friend.. Her romantic feelings and desires, her brother’s marriage, and her Dad’s anti-Blackness against Nuah ignites self-discovery about who she is, who her type of guy is, and what she wants to prioritize as she prepares for university life.
Now I’m going to share everything I think is right with Misfit in Love. Starting now!
We finally find out what happened to her perpetrator, Farooq.
This wasn’t a huge focus in Misfit in Love, but I did say in the Saints and Misfits review that what happened to Farooq should’ve been covered. In this companion novel, it was revealed within the first 10 pages (page 8 to be specific) that her mother assisted Janna in finding counseling and pressing charges against Farooq. Nuah was also part of her support system. He would send duas (Islamic prayers of invocation), memes, and cat videos to keep her in good spirits. While her dad was not a Farooq apologist and was angry about what happened, he wanted a higher power in the mosque to be held accountable. Janna didn’t find his thinking helpful in her recovery.
Muhammad and Sarah also support her and care for her, so it’s nice that Janna has a solid support system. Although she still feels trauma from the specific incident, she tries to move forward with life in spite of it. Again, the sexual assault is only given small mentions in the book, and there’s no focus on the other consequences Farooq may have faced. But the small mentions worked and gave sufficient information about how Janna and her mother held him accountable.
We finally learn about why her mom and dad divorced.
This was another thing that went unanswered in Saints and Misfits. I stated in the first review that there was no extensive backstory on why her parents divorced. I also thought the divorce happened because of religious differences. The real reasons? Much of it did indeed have to do with religious differences. It is important to note that Islam prohibits Muslim women from marrying non-Muslim men. No exceptions made for them. However, Muslim men are allowed to marry non-Muslim women who are Christian or Jewish. When Janna’s mother (Husna) began meeting Janna’s father (Haroon), Haroon was learning more about Islam and dedicating himself to it. Though shortly after Muhammad was born, he lost interest in Islam, which ignited the breakdown of their marriage.
Haroon became Islamomisic and scorned Husna for embracing any element of Islam. He didn’t want Muhammad nor Janna to embrace Islamic practices like Jumu’ah (midday Friday prayers) or dīn (a word that has several meanings but in simple terms refers to a lifestyle of being holy to Allah and a dedicated Muslim). Since he wasn’t raised Muslim, that eventually caused conflict between him and Husna. In addition, he cheated on Husna with Linda, so Haroon also committed infidelity. Especially since Husna had thought they were working together to save their marriage. Heartbreaking, right? Though it’s good to finally get clarification on how the divorce happened. The incorporation of that information into the story was well executed.
The way the book highlights anti-Blackness—I approve!
I am a Black woman, so I do have the right to give my full opinions on how anti-Blackness is covered in the book. Personally, I think it was done appropriately! I appreciate Ali’s acknowledgement about how as a non-Black author, she didn’t want to overstep in talking about a Black person’s experiences with racism. She wanted to cover anti-Blackness with intention, care, and sensitivity. Though I appreciate even more how she highlights an example of aversive (covert) anti-Blackness in her book and shows that anti-Blackness isn’t just dominative (overt).
I will say that in the U.S., the classification of Middle Easterners (really West/Southwest Asians) and North Africans as “White” is questionable.** Shoot, race is a social construct that’s quasi-transparent and carries a ton of confusing rhetoric. However, it is very true that anti-Blackness does exist amongst non-Black Muslims, and Black Muslims are not always mentioned in discussions of Islamomisia or in portrayals of Muslim representation. That has to change. You can be of any race/ethnicity and be Muslim, including Black. And although Indonesia is an Asian and not an African nation, did you know that it has the world’s largest Muslim population? Perhaps you didn’t know that, but now you do. Think outside the Eurocentric box.
Let me talk more on how anti-Blackness is appropriately covered in Misfit in Love. So in the story, Haroon (a non-Muslim Asian Indian) shows his aversive anti-Blackness by talking to his daughter about needing a relationship with someone of a “culturally similar” heritage. Janna voices disapproval of how he inserted that her and Nuah weren’t “culturally similar” due to Nuah being Black. Meanwhile, Haroon never emphasized needing to be “culturally similar” to Linda, his White wife. Nor did he emphasize Janna needing to be “culturally similar” to Jeremy while he was her romantic interest. Nor did he give that same energy to Muhammad for marrying Sarah, who’s Syrian. That, everybody, should be a reminder that being a POC doesn’t mean you can’t be anti-Black. You absolutely can be.
Though another highlight of how anti-Blackness is covered comes towards the end of the story. Janna’s father apologizes for how aversively anti-Black he was and realizes that he was wrong to make assumptions about Nuah based on his racial background. Even so, Janna asks Haroon if he would’ve had that same change of heart for Nuah if he wasn’t going to college and/or hadn’t accepted the suit from him. Her dad claims he would’ve, but Janna contests that and said that wasn’t so. That part right there really made my heart sing. I was like, “I love the reference to respectability politics!” Then after the wedding, Janna acknowledges her role in upholding anti-Blackness and signs her and her immediate family up for an antiracism seminar session at UChicago. I know I’ve given a lot of specific details from the book, but they really stick with me and can inspire non-Black people (including non-Black Muslims) who read the book to get started in implementing antiracist, anti-oppressive behaviors in their daily lives.
And then one more quote I’ll highlight before moving on to the next point—it’s about how it’s not enough to only condemn anti-Blackness in the books or out in society. That same energy has to go into unpacking anti-Blackness within ourselves and changing our behaviors based on the evidence. It must happen constantly, not just every once in a while. Janna said, “It can’t just be something we feel we believe or have on our shelves in books. It’s something we have to act upon.” So true. While you should read books and listen to lectures, failure to convert the learned material into real-life actions (especially in supporting Black people) leads to situations like this. And to learn more about the dynamic Janna’s referring to in that quote, I recommend reading an article titled “The ‘Not Here’ Syndrome” by Dr. Charlice Hurst. You may have the “not here” syndrome yourself, and it’s time to deprogram it.
The characters and settings feel real, as well as enchanting.
One of the best things about reading for me is envisioning a world where each action plays out in my mind. My mind is one to assign faces, voices, and personalities to each character. The dialogue and scenery descriptions are definitely key to accomplishing that. Books pull on my heartstrings when the situations feel real and the dialogue feels natural and spontaneous. When I’m teleported to the book’s world and feel connected to it, that’s how I know all of those things have successfully been accomplished. I’m not hard to please in that realm, but for me it’s still an integral part in connecting with any fiction novel.
For this one in particular, I feel like I was witnessing the story firsthand and feeling emotional connections to different situations that happened. I felt emotionally connected with Janna when it came to interactions with her mother. I felt emotionally connected to Dawud, Sarah’s little brother, when it came to his desire to make a floral ceiling for the wedding. I felt emotionally connected with all the characters, really. The descriptions of their actions showed us who they really are, and that in itself was enchanting to me.
There is this “show, not tell” literary principle that exists, which is not a total fallacy. That said, “showing” and “telling” work in tandem with each other. They must do so to encourage readers to envision the book’s world in their mind. What made Misfit in Love memorable to me was the strongly efficient balance of “showing” and “telling.” For example, the dialogue, the descriptions of the character’s actions, and the descriptions of settings were effective in accomplishing the “showing” aspect. The incorporation of “telling” (e.g. statements of Janna directly stating how she felt or what happened) clarified and reinforced the “showing” aspect. The “showing and telling” together permits readers to envision the individual characters, the impact of the characters’ actions, and each event that happens in the story.
Being too fixated on “showing and not telling” can make an author try too hard at being descriptive, which makes a book confusing and hard to stay invested in. A book shouldn’t do too much showing or too much telling. Though what ultimately matters is that a character’s voice sounds authentic and spontaneous, there’s a personality to pinpoint, and that the whole plot is cohesive. That’s hard for authors to accomplish when they think too hard about how to “show, not tell.” The literary device should become “show AND tell.” Sometimes descriptions can be a little too extra or lengthy, which occurs a few times throughout this book. Although, that’s more subjective than anything else.
Still, Ali did a wonderful job balancing the “showing” and “telling” aspects. It doesn’t feel like she tried too hard, and the characters are multidimensional with their own voices and personalities. Above all, the sequence of events and plot progression felt cohesive, natural, and spontaneous. Speaking of which…
The events and transitions between them are very cohesive and seamless.
Honestly. I think the sequence of events couldn’t have been more fluid and cohesive. Throughout Misfit in Love, my brain noted intense satisfaction with the plot progression and incorporation of events. Some of the parts that were heavy (e.g. Layth mourning his brother’s death, Janna’s dad being anti-Black) would’ve felt more gimmicky without flushing them out and seamlessly tying them in with the plot. A general problem in stories, movies, and TV shows is that sometimes traumatic events are included in a story as merely “shock factor” for drama. However, it does not feel like that here. Everything Ali brought up was made to be substantial to the story plot in some way. I appreciate that, because events in stories should always be brought up with attention and care.
In addition, the fluid and seamless transitions in the writing were spot on! There wasn’t anything in the plot that felt totally uncoordinated or unnecessary. For example, finding out that Layth’s young brother, Muhsin, had died in a drunk-driving incident helped explain some of Layth’s persona and backstory. It also explains part of why he was moving away to Ecuador. Though as I think about it, I must make a critique about the detailing of that scenario. I am a little stumped on if the drunk driver was Layth’s Uncle Bilal or Layth’s father. I thought it was Uncle Bilal who was the drunk driver, but a character named Khadija asked Layth about his dad and told her that he was the one awaiting trial for that incident. And given that no other details about his father were given, there’s a slightly confusing picture on who the perpetrator was.
If it was really Uncle Bilal who was the drunk driver, that information could’ve been incorporated into Layth’s conversation with Khadija more concisely. A couple of sentences about what happened with Layth’s father would’ve helped too. While it was noted that Uncle Bilal provided financial assistance after Muhsin’s death, one could still get confused on who the perpetrator was. I don’t think Layth’s mention of the drunk-driving incident was incohesive with the rest of the plot. Just that there could’ve been a more concise clarification of that incident’s perpetrator. Still, my opinion remains about the sequence of events being top-notch, the plot being very cohesive, and the transitions being very seamless.
It centers a Muslim girl’s exploration of romance and romantic feelings.
Often, explorations of romance are from White Christian/non-religious points of view. Though this book here—this book here centers Janna’s explorations of romance as a young multiracial Muslim woman. Like other young women, she feels the pressure to be in a relationship at her age. She questions what “love” is, what it means, how to handle someone that does/doesn’t like her back, and her feelings about Nuah and other guys. Many (straight) women have had similar experiences to her. Even people in general, including those who are not cishet, have had the same kind of questions Janna thinks about. Regardless of sexuality, it is possible to think about what “love” is, what it means, how to handle someone’s reciprocated/unreciprocated interest, and how to feel about certain people.
It is also worth acknowledging that this book does not solely center Islamic trauma. As a Muslim herself, Ali is entitled to tell stories as she sees fit, even if they center Islamic trauma. That said, both Misfit in Love and Saints and Misfits portray Muslims as people who have similar struggles to people of all other religions and identities. In general, it’s possible to center any identity without primarily focusing on identity trauma. With how the media portrays Muslims, many non-Muslims think that all there is to being Muslim is “feeling/being oppressed” by Muslim extremists. That’s not true.
Muslim experiences and perspectives are not a monolith, and there are different experiences and perspectives that Muslims have. If the only stories you associate with Muslims are those of “oppression,” you need to check your Islamomisia at the door. Because while it’s true that there have been (and still are) extremist conflicts in nations like Syria, Afghanistan, and Iran, it’s dangerous for non-Muslims to exclusively focus on those narratives. In progressive circles like feminist ones, it’s even more dangerous given that their core objective is to center a variety of experiences from women of all identities. It’s important to acknowledge discrimination and oppression always, but failing to center all narratives only prolongs oppressive dynamics. That includes failing to center narratives that don’t focus on dominative (overt) discrimination.
Final Verdict: Overall, Misfit in Love is a strong companion novel that cohesively ties back to Saints and Misfits. The first one was compelling in giving details about the characters, but the second one was definitely a necessity in clarifying events, such as Farooq facing consequences for committing sexual violence and the reasons why Janna’s parents divorced. As mentioned above, the main error with Misfit in Love was that the drunk-driving incident could’ve been clarified more concisely. And a few descriptions in the book were a little lengthy and extra in my opinion, but that’s just me. They weren’t incredibly bothersome since I could read them in Janna’s voice.
If you want books that are entertaining and center Muslim identity, check out both Saints and Misfits and Misfit in Love. I hope I’ve inspired you to add one or both of them into your “Want to Read” list. I think S.K. Ali is a strong storyteller and talented writer, so I intend to read the other books she has penned and plans to pen. At some point in the future, the next book of hers I’ll read is Love From A to Z. I’ll probably write a review on that, so stay tuned for that one and other book reviews to come!
Notes:
*Having a nikah means that your marriage is recognized by Islamic law, but that does not mean your marriage is recognized by government law. For the marriage to be recognized by government law, a legal marriage certificate must be obtained.
**I should note that the term “Middle East” should be retired, because it is a neoimperialist term that reinforces Eurocentric, White supremacist rule. The term is said to have first been used by the British in the mid-1800s, but USAian naval officer Alfred Thayer Mahan brought “Middle East” to mainstream usage in 1902 to distinguish areas between the Arabian Peninsula and India. Though really, the naming of that region was part of efforts to exert power over Asia. The proper way to refer to the “Middle East” is West/Southwest Asia. More information on how the term “Middle East” originated is available by clicking this link.
