I encountered this book in the Alef bookstore on Baker Street, London. I read the blurb and my expectations were raised, and as I paid for the book the cashier told me how great a writer Haddad is, so my expectations were raised even further. I was glad to have a book in my hands that not only seemed it would be a quick read, ideal for the long train journeys I often take, but would enlighten me in my western stupor. I'm not sure I was enlightened, though it did give me a quick reference point when I needed to correct friends and acquaintances making blanket statements on the "Arab world." I think that's all I really got from the novel, I'm afraid. It was somewhat entertaining to read - and, as I mention, a very brief read - but I found the structure bothersome, as Haddad uses far too much repetition, and sometimes it really was far too self-indulgent, even for a novel with the word "confessions" in the title. I was always expecting something more in-depth, but I was never given it. Had the book been any longer than it was, I wouldn't have bothered finishing it.