My town is made up of Manhattan and Brooklyn transplants, and most of us are just a bit self-centered.
For example, when my spouse and I moved into our house, one of our neighbors--whose lawn touched ours--made no effort to say hello. The neighbor had our phone numbers, our names, our email addresses--all of these bits get shared on "the back road." There was total silence. However, Marc and I had received misinformation about a parking question. One morning, we walked out to our car to discover a typed document explaining (with a veiled threat) that we had encroached on the neighbor's parking terrain. The letter included a copy of the neighbor's most recent land survey. This was how the neighbor (ultimately) introduced himself to us.
By contrast, a woman who was not actually our neighbor--but who lived nearby--baked cookies and greeted us with a handwritten letter; the letter shared a brief story about her many years in Maplewood. I grew fond of this woman. I didn't really know her--but I did think, Someone raised this person correctly. Then one day this same woman stabbed herself several times in the breast. She set her house on fire. It turns out she had not been paying taxes--the self-mutilation was part of a plot to get the township off her back. I think? Different versions of the story floated around. The house was rebuilt--new people moved in--and life moved on.
I recalled this story as I read Patmeena Sabit's "Good People," which has been hailed as the first great novel of 2026. Imagine it's the 1980s. Soviet Russia has just invaded Afghanistan. Refugees find their way to Virginia. Virginia--of all places! One particular family climbs up "above" the masses; the father becomes a millionaire. He raises his daughter, Zorah, to believe that she is special. Though she is intellectually gifted, she does not want the "Supreme Court" trajectory that has been outlined for her. She wants to be a cosmetologist. She wants to hang out with her boyfriend, who has multiple piercings. As in "Romeo and Juliet," young love provokes a crisis. Threats are issued. Family members stop speaking to one another. Eventually, Zorah is found dead at the bottom of a lake.
Zorah may be the victim of an "honor killing"--or she may just be the victim of an accident. The novel "Good People" is essentially gossip; community members, with varying levels of knowledge with regard to Zorah, share their own judgments and half-supported opinions. Zorah herself never speaks.
This is an addictive story. Critics have used the word "thrilling"--and it does actually produce a series of small thrills. Beyond the story, there is Sabit's impressive compassion; she does not turn anyone into a caricature. She shows how a complicated story gets "flattened" in the American press--but she does not demonize the journalists. She also asks questions (subtly) about moral codes and laws. If laws can be overlooked, then why do laws exist? If laws can't ever be overlooked, if there is never room for mercy, then shouldn't we *all* be in prison (for one reason or another) right now?
I agree with the great novelist Monica Ali that Sabit's debut is terrific. I will keep thinking about it for a long while.
Comments
Post a Comment