Reigniting empathy for refugees
Acutely relevant to today’s world, Exit West is a poignant reminder that being displaced is never easy
As the world experiences the highest number of displaced people on record and debates rage around who is worthy enough to open doors for, novelist Mohsin Hamid focuses on a basic, but often forgotten, fact: becoming a refugee is not a choice anyone wants to make.
Exit West is the Pakistani-British award-winning author’s fourth novel.
His debut, Moth Smoke, provided a contemporary portrait of Pakistan through a man on trial for murder, which was followed by The Reluctant Fundamentalist, where Hamid explored the tricky relationship between America and Islam in a post-9/11 world. He fashioned his third novel as a cheeky guide to opportunistic wealth in How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia.
His latest work follows a romance developing in an unlikely place — an unnamed, seemingly South Asian city being taken over by militants.
Nadia is a headstrong young woman cut off from her family as a result of her decision to live on her own and who wears an abaya for no other reason than to confuse people, while Saeed is a polite young man, traditional enough to insist on waiting until marriage to consummate their relationship. Their nascent bond intensifies under the conditions of war, as love affairs tend to in times of crisis.
The escalating violence fuels their desperation to escape, as curfews and districts seized by militants shrink the size of their city, squeezing them until there are no safe places.
The couple is told about doors others have used to escape their city — rumours say just passing through them will transport them to a better life. They gather funds to pay an agent they aren’t certain they can trust, beginning an uncertain journey, ending up on the island of Mykonos, Greece. The pair have different takes on their new life that strains their relationship: Nadia embraces change, shedding her past, while Saeed desperately tries to hold on to it by seeking out his fellow countrymen.
The novel is punctuated with vignettes of nameless others also passing through doors, showing the absurdity of landing in luxe Dubai, a quiet Aussie home or the bustle of Tokyo, where life continues as conflict rages elsewhere.
Hamid’s use of magic realism is brilliant, making the point that even if the journey itself isn’t ridden with leaky boats, drowning children and long stays in legally-murky prisons, swapping out an intentionally built life for one where nothing is certain is one of the most demoralizing elements of migration.
In an interview with Literary Hub, Hamid describes the cost this has on the characters: “There is an emotional violence to this aspect of migration, the aspect of cutting oneself off, severing oneself, from the people one has been close to but who now will occupy a different geo- graphic reality, perhaps forever.”
The author also effectively makes the point that the tribal nature that ignites civil wars and pushes people out is also found in peaceful places, as the couple finds in London where Hamid writes “nativist extremists were forming their own legions, with a wink and a nod from authorities” — an alarmingly accurate reflection of criticisms launched against Donald Trump and his ties to white supremacist groups.
Hamid not only tackles these massive themes but also provides unforgettable details exposing the horrors of war — fatal stray bullets, blood from an execution in an apartment above seeping through the ceiling, young men playing soccer with a human head — and how that horror can quickly become normalized for those under siege.
To top it off, he tells this incredibly timely story through the timeless arc of a romantic relationship between sympathetic, compelling characters. As always, Hamid sidesteps cultural caricatures in creating Nadia and Saeed, who are as interesting as individuals as they are as a pair. As a reader, you are rooting for both of them even though you have a feeling they may be headed in different directions.
If you’re numb to the unending talk relating to migration policy, the platitudes and the protest slogans, this book provides a way to reignite much-needed empathy because, above all, Hamid reminds us that no matter hard governments try, they can never really close doors. Sadiya Ansari is an associate editor at Chatelaine.
Hamid not only tackles massive themes, but also provides unforgettable details exposing the horrors of war