Adolescence is trademarked by hanging with friends, dealing with the stresses of school, and learning to nurture relationships outside of family. Sometimes, even romantic relationships. This is common in western countries like the US, even expected, but what happens when a natural part of growing up is suppressed? When sneaking out with boys cannot only get you grounded but arrested?
Born in India but raised in Saudi Arabia, sixteen-year-old Zarin Wadia lives with her masi and masa (her maternal aunt and uncle) after her single mother dies and her father disappears. She shares a complex and often hostile relationship with them, even if it is borne out of love. A mix-race child in a foreign country, Zarin has always been the outsider but matters are only exacerbated as she grows older and gains a reputation for hanging with boys – despite Masi’s admonishments and attempts to keep her home. Classmates Abdullah, Farhan, and Mishal seem light-years away, each fighting their own battles at home. Although they are never best friends, they weave into Zarin’s life in unique and profound ways.
A Girl Like That is a breath fresh of air in a genre oversaturated with poor writing, weak storytelling and melodramatic romances. The novel begins after the death of its main characters, a bold decision that is both compelling and frustrating. In medias res, Latin for “in the middle”, refers to a story that begins during the action. However, this approach can be isolating and almost had me putting the book down. There are also parts of the epilogue that seemed uncharacteristic, an excuse for some semblance of a happy ending.
As the first story I’ve read set in the Middle East, I went in having no expectations. The book may not sing the praises of Islam, but Bhathena’s careful sprinkling of terminology, attitude, and language is enough to pique any reader’s interest. Any negative portrayals are staunchly aimed at a problematic culture and government, not religion or individuals. It is asystem that fails to protect girls and women, while failing to teach boys accountability and how to handle rejection. The author also highlights how strict laws do not erase these problems but often result in harsher consequences of sneakier, riskier, and less trusting people.
The characters are multi-faceted and their actions, though not always admirable, are for the most part, justified and understandable. From playboy Farhan, whose father sleeps around with other women, to siblings Mishal and Abdullah, who practically raise themselves, to Porus, whose father dies, leaving him to care for his mother, these teens are not just characters but people who feel as real as your neighbor next door. They bare their thoughts, feelings and souls in an intimate way that feels raw and painfully relatable. Multiple perspectives create a more well-rounded story and foster the reader’s connection. Zarin may be the main character but she is not the only interesting one.
A Girl Like That is a beautiful reflection of race, identity, prejudice and growth. We may not all face the challenges unique to Zarin and her situation, but we all share the universal feeling of longing, love, and heartbreak. Bhathena skillfully brings together five classmates and reminds readers what it is to be young and feel like an outsider.