The Island of Missing Trees

The thing about books like The Island of Missing Trees is that they never slip from memory. They are always fresh and clear. The plot, the characters, and sometimes even certain lines. The Island of Missing Trees is so much and only Shafak could’ve skillfully managed to string it all together, without any thread going to waste. The Island of Missing Trees is a love story – not just of two people, but also of a fig tree, of a teenager and her family, of love that we have for our homelands from which we are forced to flee, or have to in order to lead better lives, and more than anything else, it is a love story of people and nature. Two teenagers fall in love in Cyprus – one Turkish, the other Greek. They meet at a taverna which is home to them. Kostas and Defne meet in secret, away from people’s prying eyes, in a tavern with a fig tree at its center. The fig tree watching all, observing their love, and jotting memories as time goes by. A war breaks out. The lovers are separated only to meet decades later, and what happens after that is one of the plot points of the book I don’t want to reveal. The book travels between the past and the present, giving the readers the perspective of the fig tree, of Kostas and Defne’s daughter Ada, and more importantly of what happens to countries when borders are most sought after. Shafak’s writing is emotional, it is gut-wrenching in so many places – when she speaks of home, of what it is to be driven away, to see neighbours turning on you – it makes you think of the countries currently in conflict and it is all about this – land for them, home for the people who live there. The layers to this novel are plenty. On one hand, Shafak tackles mental health and its navigation, on the other – the country at war not only with outsiders, but with itself when it comes to love, of ties that are thicker than blood, and ultimately on the idea of what is home and what makes it familiar. I hope this novel makes it to the shortlist of the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2022.

While the narrator of this book is a fig tree , while reading it, we end up becoming one. The story flows through the head of the reader as if they are witnessing the events unfolding. While I have never been to Cyprus, I could already picture how an idyllic day there would look like.

'Çanim' is a word I first came across in 2010. A friend would text me, "çanim". If absolutely nothing else, I will be grateful to Elif Shafak for bringing back this word into my life, and my active memory. Çanim is also how I would describe this book Island of Missing Trees for myself. Based across two time periods in Cyprus and London, this book aptly transports the reader to the end of the Middle East, and Mediterranean. Shafak's gobsmacking amount of research and attention to detail in keeping this fictional tale as true to real events has my whole, entire heart. This is the writing, with heart and intention, that I aspire towards. Reading of a colonial authority imposing war in today's time seemed eerily real with unending parallels, and if anything it made me see the loss of both humanity and ecology just as much. Shafak's deep sense of spirituality and universal connectedness, something I have loved and admired even in Forty Rules of Love, takes centre stage in this story, at least for me. Where fibres of beings are attached to fabrics of time along the threads of fate. So seemingly she blends in Sufism with Gibran that my heart was bursting with a connectedness I cannot explain. The island of missing trees is a story of a culture of people, often being sidelined and clubbed into a minority. Always at the behest of colonial powers forcing them to leave their homes. In Shafak's beautiful book, she tells us yet another story of forced migration but this is mostly a story of love - secretive, romantic, platonic, conditional, unconditional, ecological, spiritual, sacrificial.

Extraordinarily brilliant levels of storytelling narrated with depth and emotional intelligence, a relevant and compelling piece in today’s divided world. Highlights the intergenerational relations between conflict, forced migration and the constant grief that encapsulates those who witness it. Especially loved the talking Fig Tree, whose perspective in the backdrop of a Greek-Turkish conflict offered a unique insight on climate change; how humans look down upon other beings who are superior to us in multitudes. The book also offers a gentle insight into the cruel truth of the world - humans destroy while nature protects. That environmental damage inflicted by humans destroy not just species in isolation but also their unique connections. While they protect each other like a collective whole, we continue to remain divided and destructive.

Dwelve into the magical, beautifull, and imaginative, writting style of elif shafak. Nature lovers and spritual people will love it.

A beautiful narrative to express the fragility of the human world, this book takes you gliding through two places and times together.

From the first page this book casts an enchantment. It is not a fantasy despite some parts told to us through the eyes of a tree. Instead it is a drama, a romance, a retelling of a terrible time on a beautiful island, a story about war, about people both young and old and a book that gives insight into cultural differences carried too far. How can it do all this? I don’t know. Maybe it is magic, magic created by an author with a lyrical bent and a desire to talk about a time on Cyprus when differences broke hearts and mayhap still do. You might also ask how can a tree have such an effect on our reader hearts and souls and again I don’t know. Perhaps that is what a true story teller is supposed to do. You can’t help but admire an author who can step aside and allow her story to be told by something that has lived and seen our human behaviour with neutrality. After all Elif Shabaka does the rest with such wonderful emotion that we realise differences are something to be revered and not used against each other.

One of the best books I’ve read. Learned about an era of history I didn’t know about. The story intertwines with the life of trees.

Opent nieuwe visie op thema's die mij aanspreken

A beautiful story from one of my favorite authors, Elif Shafak. When I heard that she was publishing a new book, I was overwhelmed with joy. To say that I adore this author would be an understatement. I read many of her works, including “The Forty Rules of Love”, “The Three Daughters of Eve”, and “Black Milk”. She is a great writer, who approaches difficult and emotional topics with delicate sensitivity, and her new book was a genuine pleasure to read. Kostas and Defne are two teenagers who are madly in love with each other. Kostas is a Greek Cypriot, while Defne is a Turkish Cypriot – this difference threatens their love. They meet in a taverna and their forbidden love grows with each day that passes. In the middle of the taverna, there is a fig tree, which bears witness to their encounters and a myriad of other things. War breaks out and things change, for the both of them. Decades later, Kostas returns to the island, in search of his lost love. Will he find it? And what will happen next? You will have to read the book to find out. The story will also introduce you to Ada, a young girl who is trying to figure out who she is and whose only connection to the far island of Cyprus is a tree growing in her garden. This story is moving and beautifully written. The sublime storytelling draws you from the first page and you can easily sense the motivation behind the book, the author’s intense desire for equality and peace. She explores so many different themes but I think the one that spoke to me the most was the emigrant life, and how we are always carrying a piece of our home wherever we go. Our homeland is part of our identity, no matter where we might find ourselves. What were the things I loved most about the book? • It reminded me about my home and the fact that I carry it in my heart wherever I go. As you will see, a large part is narrated by a fig tree. She remembers her life back in Cyprus, her roots so to say. “I still carry the island with me, though. The places where we were born are the shape of our lives, even when we are away from them. Especially then. Now and again in my sleep I find myself in Nicosia, standing under a familiar sun, my shadow falling against the rocks, reaching towards the prickly broom bushes that burst with blossoms, each as perfect and as bright as the golden coins in a children’s fable.” • It spoke of how we must let go of who we used to be in order to make room for the current self. Elif Shafak speaks about migration not only as a process but also as an influencing factor on our identity. “Because that is what migrations and relocations do to us: when you leave your home for unknown shores, you don’t simply carry on as before; a part of you dies inside so that another part can start all over again.” • Reference to the poems of C.P. Cavafy, one of the most distinguished poets of the 20th century. “Arriving there is what you are destined for/But do not hurry the journey at all…” • Story of forbidden love – I was rooting hard for Defne and Kostas to remain together. Their love story is beautiful and sad at the same time, and reminded me of the old cliché, true love never dies. “You know what I’ve been thinking since? I’ve been thinking that you are my country. Is that a strange thing to say? Without you, I don’t have a home in this world; I am a felled tree, my roots severed all round; you can topple me with the touch of a finger.” • Countless references to nature, and especially to trees. The author skillfully reminds us we are all connected, and that both trees and humans grow roots, which shape our identity. The key to happiness is being able to leave those roots behind and form new ones, discovering a new part of ourselves. “The Island of Missing Trees” is a beautiful novel, one that will definitely stir a lot of emotions inside. It will cause you to ask a lot of questions about who you are, especially if you are living far away from your homeland. Rich in descriptions and with numerous mentions of cultural differences and traditions, it inspires and delights at the same time. One of the best reads of 2021!

Muy sensible. Conecta todos los puntos hacia una conciencia y perspectiva única. Abre una nueva posibilidad de mirar hacia las raíces