I was floored by this book. Told over the course of 35 years, this is the story of an epic love between a Jewish man and a Muslim man from Sarajevo set against the backdrop of the first half of the 20th century, covering WWI, its aftermath, and WWII. This book is a lyrical and deeply moving portrait of war, trauma, grief, displacement, and Jewish longing. As a Jewish reader, there’s a certain ineffable Jewishness that can sometimes be imbued into an author’s work. I think of Nicole Krauss’ work as an example, or also Nathan Englander. It’s this balance of emotionality, an almost biblical poeticism, a sense of past always being present, and a sprinkling of absurdism and surrealism. This book oozed it. I was also impressed by how much Hemon utilized these tools to draw a vivid picture of war and being a refugee, not in the external details, but in the emotional ones. I know it’s only January, but this will be a book that all others I read this year are held against. A stunning read.