It's a positive relief to read a novel that treats Iraqis as real people. Diana Abu-Jaber's second novel, Crescent, is set in Los Angeles and peopled by immigrants and Iraqi-Americans. Thirty-nine-year-old, half-Arab Sirine is a chef in a Lebanese restaurant. Her uncle works at the university with Han, an Iraqi-born academic who begins frequenting Sirine's restaurant, drawn by her beauty and her exquisite cooking. Part of the book's charm is in its determination to impart the sheer glamour of Arabia, here personified in Han's face: "Sirine watches Han and for a moment it seems that she can actually see the ancient traces in Han's face, the quality of his gaze that seems to originate from a thousand-thousand years of watching the horizon--a forlorn, beautiful gazing, rich and more seductive than anything she has ever seen." Too, the book addresses head-on the one-dimensional view Americans possess of Iraq. I used to read about Baghdad in Arabian Nights," says one American character. "It was all about magic and adventurers. I thought that's what it was like there. And when I got older Baghdad turned into the stuff about war and bombs--the place on the TV set. I never thought about there being any kind of normal life there." As she falls more deeply in love with Han, Sirine discovers that part of being Iraqi now means learning to live with not knowing: not knowing where people have disappeared to, not knowing if your family is alive or dead. In the book's thrilling, romantic denouement, these lessons come perilously close to Sirine's Los Angeles home. Crescent brings alive a vibrant community of exiled academics, immigrants on the make, and optimistic souls looking for love. --Claire Dederer


From Publishers Weekly
Abu-Jaber (Arabian Jazz) weaves the story of a love affair between a comely chef and a handsome, haunted Near Eastern Studies professor together with a fanciful tale of a mother's quest to find her wayward son in this beautifully imagined and timely novel, which explores private emotions and global politics with both grace and conviction. Green-eyed, 39-year-old Sirine cooks up Arab specialties in a bustling cafe in Los Angeles where Arab students gather for a taste of home. When her doting uncle, who raised her after the death of her relief-worker parents 30 years ago, introduces her to his colleague Hanif, the placid surface of her life is disturbed. Their affair begins quickly and ardently, as Sirine, who has heretofore equated cooking with love, discovers the pleasures of romance, and the exiled Han struggles to feel grounded in a place far from the Baghdad he loved as a boy. In Abu-Jaber's sensuous prose, the city is as lush and fragrant as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and her secondary characters, like the wry, wise cafe owner Um-Nadia and the charmingly narcissistic poet and satyr Aziz, are appealingly eccentric. But a darkly troubled photographer drawn to both Sirine and Han, news of Saddam Hussein's latest atrocities and Han's painful memories of his imprisoned brother and his disappeared sister, for whose fates he feels responsible, cloud their affair, perhaps dooming it. Abu-Jaber's poignant contemplations of exile and her celebration of Sirine's exotic, committed domesticity-almond cookies, cardamom, and black tea with mint-help make this novel feel as exquisite as the "flaming, blooming" mejnoona tree behind Nadia's Cafe. Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From Library Journal
In this follow-up to Abu-Jaber's justly praised debut, Arabian Jazz, spinsterish Sirine lives to cook until a charming Arabic literature professor shows up in her restaurant. Big foreign sales. Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From AudioFile
Diana Abu-Jaber has written a haunting and fanciful story about an Iraqi community in Los Angeles. Sirine, who is half-Arab and a chef at a Lebanese restaurant, falls hopelessly in love with Han, an Iraqi exile and professor at a local university. Abu-Jaber captures the essence of the local color and distant culture as the two worlds collide, and Nike Doukas reads the parts perfectly, communicating the drama and uncertainty of new love. Abu-Jaber weaves into the novel a fanciful folktale of a mother's search for her wandering son, told by Sirine's uncle-turned-surrogate-father. Marcelo Tubert tells the tale with a voice full of wonder, humor, and magic as he follows the pair's exploits around the world. Together, the two narrators cast a spell, drawing the listener into an amazing world. H.L.S. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2004, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine


From Booklist
*Starred Review* Sirine's now-deceased missionary parents were Iraqi and American; she's been raised since she was nine by her beloved Iraqi uncle. Her world is his house, the cafe where she is chef, and the air of Los Angeles. She's nearly 40, and inside her pale skin and green eyes she feels the rhythms of her uncle's Arabic stories and the scent of Eastern spices. Hanif ("Han"), a professor of Arabic literature at the local university, comes to the cafe for the tastes of home, and he and Sirine fall into an affair of wild, sweet tenderness. After 20 years away, Han is driven, despite Saddam, to return to Iraq to see if anything is left of his family. Sirine is devastated and feels responsible. Each chapter begins with an installment of a fantastical family story told by Sirine's uncle; the rest of the novel is written in the present tense. Abu-Jaber's language is miraculous, whether describing the texture of Han's skin or Sirine's way with an onion. It is not possible to stop reading. GraceAnne DeCandido
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved


Kirkus Reviews
An impressive second outing by Abu-Jaber.


The Nation
A story that unfolds beautifully, as lightly and naturally as a roll of silk.


San Francisco Chronicle
Abu-Jaber's voluptuous prose features insights into the Arab-American community that are wisely, warmly depicted


Kirkus Reviews
A powerful story about the loneliness of exile and the limits of love. An impressive second outing by Abu-Jaber.


Vanity Fair
A deliciously romantic romp


Christian Science Monitor
Exquisite...Readers stuffed on headlines but still hungering for something relevant will enjoy this rich meal.


Orlando Sentinel
A pleasing hybrid of Like Water for Chocolate and Haroun and the Sea of Stories.


Oregonian, Andrea Spencer
[A] lovely tale...an urgent mix of Scheherazade-style storytelling and treatise on the loneliness of exile.


Connie May Fowler
Lush, poignant, and searing...unfolds with all the startling beauty of a hidden garden.


Sena Jeter Naslund
Abu-Jaber affirms the precious fragility of life, love, family, and the human community in meaningful ways.


Book Description
"Abu-Jaber's voluptuous prose features insights into the Arab American community that are wisely, warmly depicted."—San Francisco Chronicle Thirty-nine-year-old Sirine, never married, lives with a devoted Iraqi-immigrant uncle and an adoring dog named King Babar. She works as a chef in a Lebanese restaurant, her passions aroused only by the preparation of food—until an unbearably handsome Arabic literature professor starts dropping by for a little home cooking. Falling in love brings Sirene's whole heart to a boil—stirring up memories of her parents and questions about her identity as an Arab American. Praised by critics from The New Yorker to USA Today for her first novel, Arabian Jazz ("an oracular tale that unfurls like gossamer"), Diana Abu-Jaber weaves with spellbinding magic a multidimensional love story set in the Arab-American community of Los Angeles. Written in a lush, lyrical style reminiscent of The God of Small Things, infused with the flavors and scents of Middle Eastern food, and spiced with history and fable, Crescent is a sensuous love story and a gripping tale of risk and commitment.


About the Author
Diana Abu-Jaber lives in Florida and teaches at the University of Miami. She is also the author of Arabian Jazz.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

"Abu-Jaber's voluptuous prose features insights into the Arab American community that are wisely, warmly depicted."—San Francisco ChronicleThirty-nine-year-old Sirine, never married, lives with a devoted Iraqi-immigrant uncle and an adoring dog named King Babar. She works as a chef in a Lebanese restaurant, her passions aroused only by the preparation of food—until an unbearably handsome Arabic literature professor starts dropping by for a little home cooking. Falling in love brings Sirene's whole heart to a boil—stirring up memories of her parents and questions about her identity as an Arab American. Praised by critics from The New Yorker to USA Today for her first novel, Arabian Jazz ("an oracular tale that unfurls like gossamer"), Diana Abu-Jaber weaves with spellbinding magic a multidimensional love story set in the Arab-American community of Los Angeles. Written in a lush, lyrical style reminiscent of The God of Small Things, infused with the flavors and scents of Middle Eastern food, and spiced with history and fable, Crescent is a sensuous love story and a gripping tale of risk and commitment.