What do you think?
Rate this book
Остров пропавших деревьев
Кипр. 1974 год. Пара юных влюбленных, грек Костас и турчанка Дефне, тайно встречаются в романтической таверне под сенью старого фигового дерева, растущего прямо в зале. Дерево это становится свидетелем трагических событий, расколовших пополам некогда мирный прекрасный остров, исковеркавших судьбы его обитателей и, казалось, навсегда разлучивших Костаса и Дефне�
Лондон. Конец 2010-х годов. В саду дома, где с Костасом живет его шестнадцатилетняя дочь Ада, растет молодое фиговое дерево. Для Ады это единственное связующее звено с островом, где она никогда не была, и с драматической историей ее семьи, которая, подобно дереву, уходит корнями в далекое прошлое�
«Остров пропавших деревьев» � трогательная, романтическая история любви на фоне междоусобиц и ужасов гражданской войны.
Лондон. Конец 2010-х годов. В саду дома, где с Костасом живет его шестнадцатилетняя дочь Ада, растет молодое фиговое дерево. Для Ады это единственное связующее звено с островом, где она никогда не была, и с драматической историей ее семьи, которая, подобно дереву, уходит корнями в далекое прошлое�
«Остров пропавших деревьев» � трогательная, романтическая история любви на фоне междоусобиц и ужасов гражданской войны.
448 pages, Hardcover
First published August 5, 2021
12.4k people are currently reading
196k people want to read
About the author
Elif Shafak
73books30.7kfollowersElif Shafak is an award-winning British-Turkish novelist and the most widely read female author in Turkey. She writes in both Turkish and English, and has published seventeen books, eleven of which are novels. Her work has been translated into fifty languages. Shafak holds a PhD in political science and she has taught at various universities in Turkey, the US and the UK, including St Anne's College, Oxford University, where she is an honorary fellow. She is a member of Weforum Global Agenda Council on Creative Economy and a founding member of ECFR (European Council on Foreign Relations). An advocate for women's rights, LGBT rights and freedom of speech, Shafak is an inspiring public speaker and twice a TED Global speaker, each time receiving a standing ovation. Shafak contributes to major publications around the world and she has been awarded the title of Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres. In 2017 she was chosen by Politico as one of the twelve people who would make the world better. She has judged numerous literary prizes and is chairing the Wellcome Prize 2019.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 15,755 reviews
February 18, 2022
oh, my heart. such a truly breathtakingly beautiful story. never would i have imagined falling in love with a fig tree; and yet, after reading this, it seems so unfortunate that i ever thought such a thing was impossible.
this story is dedicated ‘to immigrants and exiles everywhere, the uprooted, the re-rooted, the rootless, and to the trees we left behind, rooted in our memories.� and i think that describes the soul of this book perfectly.
this is a personal ode to homelands and homes, those we leave behind and those we meet along the way, the nurturing of roots and the grafting of branches. its a story of war and hope, of loss and love, and of course the fig tree that was there throughout it all.
this is an absolute mastery of storytelling.
� 5 stars
this story is dedicated ‘to immigrants and exiles everywhere, the uprooted, the re-rooted, the rootless, and to the trees we left behind, rooted in our memories.� and i think that describes the soul of this book perfectly.
this is a personal ode to homelands and homes, those we leave behind and those we meet along the way, the nurturing of roots and the grafting of branches. its a story of war and hope, of loss and love, and of course the fig tree that was there throughout it all.
this is an absolute mastery of storytelling.
� 5 stars
July 17, 2021
Elif Shafak is a wondrous author, here she writes with imagination, originality, and lyricism, not to mention magical realism, of the people and natural environment of Cyprus. Set in different time periods, from the 1970s and up to more recent times, it is set in Cyprus and London. If you are unaware of the turbulent history of the island, then this novel provides a informative, human and compassionate account of its tragic, traumatising, troubling and turbulent past, of fractured communities torn apart by war, partition, division, religion, love, loss, grief, migration, the natural world, and the search for a sense of identity and belonging that refuses to be denied. There are families desperately seeking to locate their missing loved ones from the war, unable to find peace until they do.
There is narration from a fig tree, growing centrally through a tavern and winding its way through the roof, that observes the comings and goings of a young teenage couple, Romeo and Juliet if you will, that meet secretly there, they are Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot. The fig tree goes on to witness the devastation of war, the disappearances, the sorrow, and a symbolic cutting is taken to London. Ada is a London teenager struggling to hold it together, she is given a school assignment of interviewing an older family member, but her relatives are in Cyprus and she has never met them. However, this doesn't prevent her feeling an inner sense of a need to know, to fill in the missing pieces and roots of her identity, to be who she is and belong. Ada's parents and the people of Cyprus are not the only ones traumatised, so is the natural world.
Shafak writes of pain and heartbreak through the prism of hope, moving on, renewal and healing, of the need to tell the stories of the past, rather than burying them, addressing the issues that hurt, and extend our concern and eyes to the natural world, to recognise its central integral place, like the fig tree growing in the tavern, within humanity and connect with it in the way our ancestors would have done. This is extraordinary storytelling, with great characters, I particularly loved Aunt Meryem, with some parts structured around the different parts of a tree. I found it to be profound, powerful and moving, of human connection and disconnection, of love, family, and history, of people, nature and an island home. Highly recommended. Many thanks to the publisher for an ARC.
There is narration from a fig tree, growing centrally through a tavern and winding its way through the roof, that observes the comings and goings of a young teenage couple, Romeo and Juliet if you will, that meet secretly there, they are Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot. The fig tree goes on to witness the devastation of war, the disappearances, the sorrow, and a symbolic cutting is taken to London. Ada is a London teenager struggling to hold it together, she is given a school assignment of interviewing an older family member, but her relatives are in Cyprus and she has never met them. However, this doesn't prevent her feeling an inner sense of a need to know, to fill in the missing pieces and roots of her identity, to be who she is and belong. Ada's parents and the people of Cyprus are not the only ones traumatised, so is the natural world.
Shafak writes of pain and heartbreak through the prism of hope, moving on, renewal and healing, of the need to tell the stories of the past, rather than burying them, addressing the issues that hurt, and extend our concern and eyes to the natural world, to recognise its central integral place, like the fig tree growing in the tavern, within humanity and connect with it in the way our ancestors would have done. This is extraordinary storytelling, with great characters, I particularly loved Aunt Meryem, with some parts structured around the different parts of a tree. I found it to be profound, powerful and moving, of human connection and disconnection, of love, family, and history, of people, nature and an island home. Highly recommended. Many thanks to the publisher for an ARC.
September 7, 2022
A wonderful book that reminds us that it is families who bear the terrible cost of war as everyone loses something !!!
“The cruelty of life rested not only in the injustices, injuries and atrocities, but also in the randomness of it all�
5 heartfelt and agonising stars for a moving story of love and antipathy, belonging and displacement, destruction and survival set in a country fractured by war over politics and religion. Yet the story of Kostas, a Greek Cypriot, and Defne, a Turkish Cypriot, is also a story that demonstrates the strength of the human spirit, the power of forgiveness, the resilience of nature and the determination of people who are left fighting for their survival, as their cities are reduced to ash and rubble.
Highly imaginative, passionate, evocative, and poignant. Not just for the dramatic history shared through the pages of this book but also as a reminder of senseless and despicable wars that scar our past and disfigure today’s world. The author does a great job in sharing the inevitability of war that leads to broken hearts, damaged lives and an earth scorched through warfare, as we are left wondering ‘Why?�. However, Elif also paints the story of healing as people rebuild their lives over the decades and when combined with the beauty and resilence of the natural world we are reminded that only the physical can be destroyed not the human spirit.
The Plot
‘The Island of Missing Trees�, is an intimate and compelling memoir told through the life and recollections of a fig tree which dominates the centre of the ‘Happy Fig� taverna with its branches coming through the roof and resting near the tables of its patrons. Through the years the fig tree witnesses the love, the conversations, and the encounters of many people whose relationships are forbidden, because of religious intolerance, political opposition, and prohibited sexual partnerships.
As war breaks out in Cyprus, Kostas and Defne are separated with Kostas emigrating to the UK. However, as a botanist he returns to his beloved homeland in search of native Cyprus trees and his long-lost love. Ade, who also narrates the book, is a teenager with lineage going back to Cyprus. However, as she seeks to discover the history and ancestry of her family, Ade begins to understand the wreckage, the anguish and trauma caused by years of conflict. Even within her own family the ugly past and prevailing divisions are brought to the fore as many family secrets are revealed.
However, “just as hope can spring from the depths of despair, or peace germinate among the ruins of war, a tree could grow out of disease and decay� and so a story that does not shy away from the effects of war now paints a picture of healing, as the fig tree develops new roots.
Review and Comments
‘An island of Missing Trees�, is a book that draws on the traditions and folklore in Cyprus, as it weaves a rich tapestry of history to create a backdrop of war and a story of healing as people are forced to face injustices and loss but also find love and a new peace.
It goes without saying that this book is profoundly moving and incredibly touching not just because it reignites our memories of the atrocities, lives and loves lost in Cyprus many years ago but because of the injustices, destruction, and death in our world today.
Written with such elegant prose, deeply drawn characters, and vivid descriptions of the landscape and links to the natural world, this book will have you totally absorbed. An immersive read that will play with a range of emotions from heartache, anger, incomprehension, to forgiveness, compassion, and hope.
Highly recommended but this comes with a warning. Whilst a fabulous book, I found it heart-breaking to read and extremely difficult to review because of parallels in events from the past and present. All we have to do is look at our television screens to see why!!!
Special thoughts
In loving memory of those innocent lives lost in countries like Cyprus, Afghanistan and now Ukraine. High praise for all those willing to speak out, and those fighting against any form of prejudice, injustice, and the right to live the life THEY choose. In peace. Applause for the authors who continue to bring these stories to us because it is important we never forget the many innocent people slaughtered in the name of war or through so-called ‘special military operations�. My thoughts and prayers are with the innocent victims and their families who don’t and never sought war.
In the words of one of the greatest writers of all time - Shakespeare
“I doubt not then but innocence shall make false accusation blush, and tyranny tremble at patience�
“Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none�
“The cruelty of life rested not only in the injustices, injuries and atrocities, but also in the randomness of it all�
5 heartfelt and agonising stars for a moving story of love and antipathy, belonging and displacement, destruction and survival set in a country fractured by war over politics and religion. Yet the story of Kostas, a Greek Cypriot, and Defne, a Turkish Cypriot, is also a story that demonstrates the strength of the human spirit, the power of forgiveness, the resilience of nature and the determination of people who are left fighting for their survival, as their cities are reduced to ash and rubble.
Highly imaginative, passionate, evocative, and poignant. Not just for the dramatic history shared through the pages of this book but also as a reminder of senseless and despicable wars that scar our past and disfigure today’s world. The author does a great job in sharing the inevitability of war that leads to broken hearts, damaged lives and an earth scorched through warfare, as we are left wondering ‘Why?�. However, Elif also paints the story of healing as people rebuild their lives over the decades and when combined with the beauty and resilence of the natural world we are reminded that only the physical can be destroyed not the human spirit.
The Plot
‘The Island of Missing Trees�, is an intimate and compelling memoir told through the life and recollections of a fig tree which dominates the centre of the ‘Happy Fig� taverna with its branches coming through the roof and resting near the tables of its patrons. Through the years the fig tree witnesses the love, the conversations, and the encounters of many people whose relationships are forbidden, because of religious intolerance, political opposition, and prohibited sexual partnerships.
As war breaks out in Cyprus, Kostas and Defne are separated with Kostas emigrating to the UK. However, as a botanist he returns to his beloved homeland in search of native Cyprus trees and his long-lost love. Ade, who also narrates the book, is a teenager with lineage going back to Cyprus. However, as she seeks to discover the history and ancestry of her family, Ade begins to understand the wreckage, the anguish and trauma caused by years of conflict. Even within her own family the ugly past and prevailing divisions are brought to the fore as many family secrets are revealed.
However, “just as hope can spring from the depths of despair, or peace germinate among the ruins of war, a tree could grow out of disease and decay� and so a story that does not shy away from the effects of war now paints a picture of healing, as the fig tree develops new roots.
Review and Comments
‘An island of Missing Trees�, is a book that draws on the traditions and folklore in Cyprus, as it weaves a rich tapestry of history to create a backdrop of war and a story of healing as people are forced to face injustices and loss but also find love and a new peace.
It goes without saying that this book is profoundly moving and incredibly touching not just because it reignites our memories of the atrocities, lives and loves lost in Cyprus many years ago but because of the injustices, destruction, and death in our world today.
Written with such elegant prose, deeply drawn characters, and vivid descriptions of the landscape and links to the natural world, this book will have you totally absorbed. An immersive read that will play with a range of emotions from heartache, anger, incomprehension, to forgiveness, compassion, and hope.
Highly recommended but this comes with a warning. Whilst a fabulous book, I found it heart-breaking to read and extremely difficult to review because of parallels in events from the past and present. All we have to do is look at our television screens to see why!!!
Special thoughts
In loving memory of those innocent lives lost in countries like Cyprus, Afghanistan and now Ukraine. High praise for all those willing to speak out, and those fighting against any form of prejudice, injustice, and the right to live the life THEY choose. In peace. Applause for the authors who continue to bring these stories to us because it is important we never forget the many innocent people slaughtered in the name of war or through so-called ‘special military operations�. My thoughts and prayers are with the innocent victims and their families who don’t and never sought war.
In the words of one of the greatest writers of all time - Shakespeare
“I doubt not then but innocence shall make false accusation blush, and tyranny tremble at patience�
“Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none�
March 30, 2022
This isn't awful, but it could have been much better. The latest novel from Elif Shafak is set in Cyprus and London, examining the lives of those who left the island during the unrest in the 1970s, those who stayed, and those of the next generation who live with the scars of civil strife. The fig tree at the heart of the story is a nice metaphor: transplanted from its native Cyprus, it needs extra care in order to adapt to its new London ecosystem. The fig tree is also emblematic of what's wrong with this book. Shafak has a tendency to hit a metaphor so hard that the book almost feels YA. The fig tree here talks, or at least narrates, and roughly half of the book is first-person narration by the tree. There is a beautiful story here among the human characters, particularly in the present day, but it becomes buried beneath heavy handed metaphors, excessive exposition, and talking flora. The book itself needs tending to like the fig tree: a healthy pruning would have done wonders.
September 22, 2024
In a Nutshell: Mixed feelings. I did learn a lot of history. Plus, there’s some pretty lyrical writing. But where is the structure in the plot? Having a fig tree as a semi-anthropomorphic narrator was a deal-breaker for me. (No problem with a tree’s narration, but definitely a problem with what the tree was made to narrate.)
Story Synopsis:
Where the book clicked for me:
� Plenty of historical snippets about Cyprus and the feud between the Greeks and the Turks. As a history buff, I relished learning about Nicosia and its broken borders as well as divided citizens.
� Plenty of biological snippets about trees and insects and birds and other denizens of nature. This isn’t what I was reading the book for, but heck, I love animals and I love learning about them.
� Plenty of thought-provoking quotes in the content. Some pretty metaphors too. This is something I have come to expect from Shafak’s writing. She looks at even the mundane in a striking manner.
Where the book could have worked better for me:
🌵I am perfectly fine with non-human narrators. I have loved books with povs of dogs and even one with a city as a narrator. The key to nailing this unusual narrative is to not lose the essence of the narrator’s identity. So a fig tree talking of roots and general biological observations, perfectly fine. A fig tree mentioning its thoughts on the animals and birds around it, also fine. A fig tree giving me historical details about the Greek-Turk conflict in Cyprus, or talking of how “she� is in love with a human, sorry. That crosses my limit for creative license. Thought the final chapter explains the reason for the “romantic feelings�, it felt like a manipulated resolution than a natural one.
🌵The writing is too lyrical, especially in the fig tree’s perspective. I prefer a balanced approach between prose and plot. When the balance tilts towards plot, I am still okay with it. But when it goes heavily in favour of philosophical ramblings and purple prose, I don’t enjoy the book.
🌵Some of the content related to animals was highly exaggerated, and even somewhat weird. Like, I don’t understand how a mosquito can know the name of the human it bit. Creative license, you say? Yeah, right! Not my cup of tea though. I prefer ignoramus mosquitoes. (And please, a personified fig tree talking to birds and mosquitoes and ants � okay. But they talking back to her and having conversations and even revealing some convenient snippets about the characters? Sheesh!)
🌵Meryam’s character was highly ‘exoticised� to stress upon her traditional roots. It almost made her seem caricaturish. Some elements in her arc weren’t necessary at all for the main story, but only served to provide a fancy picture of Turkish beliefs. I dislike stereotypes, even when they come from #OwnVoices authors.
🌵I couldn’t connect with a single main character. The closest I came to liking were the Y&Y duo, but their arc is pretty minimal.
🌵It crams in so many themes! Traditions, colonialism, feminism, eco-consciousness, animal protection, LGBTQ relationships, religious disparities and divisions,� The focus should have been on Cyprus’s troublesome history but because of all the social commentary, the core theme loses its value.
🌵 Exactly the opposite to the above, there are so many points brought up in the plot with respect to problems faced by the two main female characters, but these are ignored or resolved too conveniently when the time came for explanations.
Most readers seem to have loved this book, so mine is but a tiny voice of protest. If you are still in two minds about picking this up, here’s what could help you decide.
1. Do you have any issues accepting a fig tree with human feelings? If yes, stay away from the book.
2. Are you more of a prose or a plot person? If prose, you will enjoy the book.
Still confused? Read the prologue from Amazon’s ‘Look Inside� feature. If that kind of language works for you, you will enjoy the story as more than half of the book is written in that style.
As for me, I am disappointed to be the outlier on this one, but I can’t say I hadn’t expected it. The moment the fig tree spoke in a non-tree voice, I knew the book was a goner for me. Sigh.
2.5 stars, rounding up mainly for some of the quotes, which are outstanding, and for the fact that it allowed me to blitz through it in a day.
—ĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔ�
Connect with me through:
| | |
Story Synopsis:
Sixteen-year-old Ada Kazantzakis is struggling with the death of her mother about a year ago. She is surprised to hear from her father that her aunt Meryam is coming for a visit, an aunt she has only heard of and never seen even once. For that matter, she hasn’t met a single relative of either of her parents. This is because of their complicated history. Her dad Kostas is a Greek Christian Cypriot, while her mother Defne was a Turkish Muslim Cypriot.
Through the backstory of Kostas and Defne, we see the traumatic history of Cyprus. Through the contemporary plotline of Ada, Meryam and Kostas, we see how grief impacts the mind, and how traditions constantly fight a battle with modernity. A part of the narration also comes from the pov of a fig tree that has roots (literally) in both Cyprus and England.
Where the book clicked for me:
� Plenty of historical snippets about Cyprus and the feud between the Greeks and the Turks. As a history buff, I relished learning about Nicosia and its broken borders as well as divided citizens.
� Plenty of biological snippets about trees and insects and birds and other denizens of nature. This isn’t what I was reading the book for, but heck, I love animals and I love learning about them.
� Plenty of thought-provoking quotes in the content. Some pretty metaphors too. This is something I have come to expect from Shafak’s writing. She looks at even the mundane in a striking manner.
Where the book could have worked better for me:
🌵I am perfectly fine with non-human narrators. I have loved books with povs of dogs and even one with a city as a narrator. The key to nailing this unusual narrative is to not lose the essence of the narrator’s identity. So a fig tree talking of roots and general biological observations, perfectly fine. A fig tree mentioning its thoughts on the animals and birds around it, also fine. A fig tree giving me historical details about the Greek-Turk conflict in Cyprus, or talking of how “she� is in love with a human, sorry. That crosses my limit for creative license. Thought the final chapter explains the reason for the “romantic feelings�, it felt like a manipulated resolution than a natural one.
🌵The writing is too lyrical, especially in the fig tree’s perspective. I prefer a balanced approach between prose and plot. When the balance tilts towards plot, I am still okay with it. But when it goes heavily in favour of philosophical ramblings and purple prose, I don’t enjoy the book.
🌵Some of the content related to animals was highly exaggerated, and even somewhat weird. Like, I don’t understand how a mosquito can know the name of the human it bit. Creative license, you say? Yeah, right! Not my cup of tea though. I prefer ignoramus mosquitoes. (And please, a personified fig tree talking to birds and mosquitoes and ants � okay. But they talking back to her and having conversations and even revealing some convenient snippets about the characters? Sheesh!)
🌵Meryam’s character was highly ‘exoticised� to stress upon her traditional roots. It almost made her seem caricaturish. Some elements in her arc weren’t necessary at all for the main story, but only served to provide a fancy picture of Turkish beliefs. I dislike stereotypes, even when they come from #OwnVoices authors.
🌵I couldn’t connect with a single main character. The closest I came to liking were the Y&Y duo, but their arc is pretty minimal.
🌵It crams in so many themes! Traditions, colonialism, feminism, eco-consciousness, animal protection, LGBTQ relationships, religious disparities and divisions,� The focus should have been on Cyprus’s troublesome history but because of all the social commentary, the core theme loses its value.
🌵 Exactly the opposite to the above, there are so many points brought up in the plot with respect to problems faced by the two main female characters, but these are ignored or resolved too conveniently when the time came for explanations.
Most readers seem to have loved this book, so mine is but a tiny voice of protest. If you are still in two minds about picking this up, here’s what could help you decide.
1. Do you have any issues accepting a fig tree with human feelings? If yes, stay away from the book.
2. Are you more of a prose or a plot person? If prose, you will enjoy the book.
Still confused? Read the prologue from Amazon’s ‘Look Inside� feature. If that kind of language works for you, you will enjoy the story as more than half of the book is written in that style.
As for me, I am disappointed to be the outlier on this one, but I can’t say I hadn’t expected it. The moment the fig tree spoke in a non-tree voice, I knew the book was a goner for me. Sigh.
2.5 stars, rounding up mainly for some of the quotes, which are outstanding, and for the fact that it allowed me to blitz through it in a day.
—ĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔĔ�
Connect with me through:
| | |
February 8, 2023
1 "Jaidee and Aphrodite are both very upset" star !!!
Second Most Disappointing Read of 2022 Award
First of all a warm thank you to my lovely GR friends who provided beautiful reviews and support around my attempting of this book. This includes Angela M, Elyse W., Jen (Mississauga), David, and Marialyce. Also a warm thank you to Cheri for her support and Mischenko for her well wishes.
This review disappeared twice so here I go a third time. Aye Hera must be after me !
All you lovely people except David adored this one. I so enjoyed the reviews and was excited to get to this one and immerse myself in this novel. However once again,
I am on Outlier Island but you are all invited to visit as it is beautiful and warm here just like it is in
Ancient Cyprus. One big difference here though is that our fig trees are just fig trees. They provide delicious succulent fruit. These fig trees do not pseudo-philosophize, recite a politically correct neutral historical retelling, fall in love with humans nor provide saccharine blatant symbolism to describe womens' magazine ideas of trauma. The fig trees are just fig trees here on Outlier Island.
I just had to stop at 45 percent as I should not be yawning at unidimensional stock characters, nor be bored by a family history nor be irritated by stilted, awkward prose.
This is barely readable womens' historical fiction masquerading as literature that is not literature nor is it good historical fiction. I respect you all for loving this one. I simply didn't ! And I never want to hear a bloody fig tree talk again.
Second Most Disappointing Read of 2022 Award
First of all a warm thank you to my lovely GR friends who provided beautiful reviews and support around my attempting of this book. This includes Angela M, Elyse W., Jen (Mississauga), David, and Marialyce. Also a warm thank you to Cheri for her support and Mischenko for her well wishes.
This review disappeared twice so here I go a third time. Aye Hera must be after me !
All you lovely people except David adored this one. I so enjoyed the reviews and was excited to get to this one and immerse myself in this novel. However once again,
I am on Outlier Island but you are all invited to visit as it is beautiful and warm here just like it is in
Ancient Cyprus. One big difference here though is that our fig trees are just fig trees. They provide delicious succulent fruit. These fig trees do not pseudo-philosophize, recite a politically correct neutral historical retelling, fall in love with humans nor provide saccharine blatant symbolism to describe womens' magazine ideas of trauma. The fig trees are just fig trees here on Outlier Island.
I just had to stop at 45 percent as I should not be yawning at unidimensional stock characters, nor be bored by a family history nor be irritated by stilted, awkward prose.
This is barely readable womens' historical fiction masquerading as literature that is not literature nor is it good historical fiction. I respect you all for loving this one. I simply didn't ! And I never want to hear a bloody fig tree talk again.
October 14, 2022
Kocham książki Shafak.
November 27, 2021
I feel I should be on my knees talking with the trees that surround my home. For they give us shade, flowers, protection, and fruit. And although they are not a fig tree, as the one in this story, I’m sure they each have their own story to tell.
This was bewitching. A fig tree, transplanted from Cyprus to England. A couple forced to leave because of the raging political divide on Cyprus between the Greeks and the Turks in the �70’s. A daughter struggling with her own identity in this decade.
The chapters run parallel with the fig tree’s life, a forbidden love story, and Ada, the daughter of the couple.
A reminder that families are like trees. Their roots spread wide and deep but also they can become damaged with trauma. There can be death and life. A delicate balance.
Beautifully written with an intriguing and mystical character, the Fig tree. The beauty and knowledge of many insects and the role they play in the ecosystem.
If you weren’t a tree hugger before, I’m sure you will be one after reading this.
A divine story worthy of a 5 ⭐️Crowning.
This was bewitching. A fig tree, transplanted from Cyprus to England. A couple forced to leave because of the raging political divide on Cyprus between the Greeks and the Turks in the �70’s. A daughter struggling with her own identity in this decade.
The chapters run parallel with the fig tree’s life, a forbidden love story, and Ada, the daughter of the couple.
A reminder that families are like trees. Their roots spread wide and deep but also they can become damaged with trauma. There can be death and life. A delicate balance.
Beautifully written with an intriguing and mystical character, the Fig tree. The beauty and knowledge of many insects and the role they play in the ecosystem.
If you weren’t a tree hugger before, I’m sure you will be one after reading this.
A divine story worthy of a 5 ⭐️Crowning.
November 17, 2021
This is an imaginative, multi-layered story with a dual time line narrative reflecting the history of the volatile time in Cyprus in the 1970’s between Greeks and Turks, the culture and religious differences, a civil war. I was moved by the efforts years later to find remains of those who were killed and missing.
It’s a love story in both the past on the island and years later in the 2010’s in London. It’s also about a teenage girl in the more recent time coping with loss and grief, loneliness and the meanness spread on social media, about the importance of connecting with her family’s past.
I loved the omniscient narrative sections of The Fig Tree, born in Cyprus, continuing her life through a cutting brought to London and now a tree again, who knows so much of history, of the natural world, of human nature. I loved the fable like feel of the telling. This was beautifully written and I hope to read more by Elif Shafak, a gifted storyteller.
A monthly read with Diane and Esil . Always an enjoyable discussion.
I received a copy of this book from Bloomsbury Publishing through Edelweiss.
It’s a love story in both the past on the island and years later in the 2010’s in London. It’s also about a teenage girl in the more recent time coping with loss and grief, loneliness and the meanness spread on social media, about the importance of connecting with her family’s past.
I loved the omniscient narrative sections of The Fig Tree, born in Cyprus, continuing her life through a cutting brought to London and now a tree again, who knows so much of history, of the natural world, of human nature. I loved the fable like feel of the telling. This was beautifully written and I hope to read more by Elif Shafak, a gifted storyteller.
A monthly read with Diane and Esil . Always an enjoyable discussion.
I received a copy of this book from Bloomsbury Publishing through Edelweiss.
August 7, 2021
Elif Shafak is a great storyteller�..a very skillful writer. I’m a fan!
�.I loved the ‘very� start/introduction with an excerpt by William Shakespeare:
“To immigrants and exiles everywhere, the uprooted, the re-rooted, the rootless,
And to the trees we left behind, rooted in our memories�.�
“Anyone who hasn’t been in the Chilean forest doesn’t know this planet. I have come out of that landscape, that mud, that silence, to roam, to go singing through the world�.
—Pablo Neruda, Memoirs
“It will have blood: They say blue head will have bled. Stones have been known to move and trees to speak�
� William Shakespeare, Macbeth
I also loved the beginning contextual quotes. (I felt it was a great way to set up readers. I was excited to dive into the main meal:
“Once upon a memory, at the far end of the Mediterranean Sea, there lay an island so beautiful and blue that the many travelers, pilgrims, crusaders and merchants who fell in love with it either wanted never to leave or try to tow it with hemp ropes all the way back to their own countries�.
“Legends, perhaps.
But legends are there to tell us what history has forgotten. It has been many years since I fled that place on board a plane, inside a suitcase made of soft black leather, never to return. I have since adopted another land, England, where I have grown and thrived, but not a single day passes that I do not yearn to be back. Home. Motherland�.
“The Mediterranean sea will collapse on itself and its secret will rise to the surface, as every secret is bound to do in the end�.
After the beautiful introduction we move into the first chapter.
�..We meet Ada Kazantzakis, sixteen years old at the start - in London. It’s the late 2010’s
She was sitting in class. The bells were about to ring for the Christmas holidays.
Everyone was concerned about a big storm coming that was expected to paralyze large swathes of England and Scotland and parts of northern Europe. People had been stockpiling, getting ready for the siege.
We learn that Ada’s father, Kostas, an evolutionary ecologist and botanist, had published twelve books � he wrote and spoke about the impact of deforestation with a passion.
Since the death of Ada’s mother -(a little less than a year ago) her father had retreated into research “like a burrowing animal hiding in its tunnel for safety and warmth�.
“No matter the time of day, her father seemed to prefer the company of trees to the company of humans�.
GREAT SET UP �.I was still very interested�.
But something also felt ‘off’�..
� [note: for me this was the only boo-boo, I didn’t feel fit]..
Just before Ada’s teacher, Mrs. Walcott dismissed the class for the Christmas holiday break� she gave the students an assignment.
They were to interview an elderly relative during the holidays. The teacher told them to support their five page essay with historical facts. She didn’t want speculation.
Ada had never met her relatives but she knew that they lived on an island in The Mediterranean Sea-in Cyprus.
Her relatives and the island with both mysteries to Ada.
ALL GOOD…clear!�.I was still excited to dive into this novel.
ܳ�
�..ٳ�.
THIS happened �.(I found it disturbing and puzzling):
A boo boo: (in my opinion).
Ada imagined her teacher touching herself at night.
It didn’t feel fitting with ‘anything�. It was so surprising to me. I found ‘nothing� that warranted this to be included in this story.
Plus, it was too fast and too soon to drop a sexual visual fantasy - about Ada’s teachers private life. I would have omitted it altogether.
We moved from the classroom to the next chapter called: “Fig Tree”�.
I was at 9% of this story.
I ‘began� to understand what was going on with the styling, crafting, and storytelling.
It’s bathed in lyrical magical realism.
The narrative switches back-and-forth from present day - 2010 to the past of 1974 when Ada’s parents - Kostas and Defne (Christian Greek and Turkish Muslim), were secretly dating, knowing their families would not approve of their relationship.
Kostas and Defne’s secret meeting place was in ‘The Happy Fig� tavern in Cyprus. The tavern was a happening spot for
Greeks, Turks, Armenians, Maronites, and UN soldiers.
The eco consciousness of The Fig Tree was powerful: [The fig Tree is one of the narrators]�.
Example of The Fig Tree’s voice:
“When you are buried, I’ll come and talk to you every day, Kostas said as he drove the spade into the ground. He bore down on the handle and lifted up the clod of soil, tossing it on to the growing mound beside him. You won’t feel lonely�.
“I wish I could have told him that loneliness is a human invention. Trees are never lonely. Humans think they know with certainty where their being ends and where someone else’s starts. With their roots tangled and caught up underground, linked to a fungi and bacteria, trees harbour no such illusion. For us, everything is interconnected�.
In the authors notes Elif wrote that many of the stories of the missing mentioned throughout the novel were based on real accounts. The story is fiction, but inspired by many real accounts. We learn about the fraught and unsettling history�(torn apart by war over religion divisions), the island became a matter of disagreement between two prominent ethnic communities: Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots.
“History has warned about the between humaninduced carbon emissions and rising temperatures�
Elif says�.
“I also wanted to honour local folklore and oral traditions. But everything here is fiction
� a mixture of wonder, dreams, love, sorrow and imagination�.
It takes a little concentration and patience�.to fully appreciate the magnitude of this novel. �.but it’s more than worth it.
Many sentences and paragraphs are not only beautifully written - but they are profoundly discerning and perceptive.
Elif Shafak gently exposes the depths of war, conflict, love, loss, trauma, migration, segregation, pain and suffering�.connecting our human world with our root-plant world.
“Plants can pick up vibrations, and many flowers are shaped like balls so as to better trap sound waves, some of which are too high for the human ear. Trees are full of songs and we are not shy to seeing them�.
“I listen carefully, and I find it astounding that trees, just through their presence, become a saviour for the downtrodden and symbol of suffering for people on opposite sides�.
“Across history we have been a refuge to a great many. A sanctuary not only for mortal humans, but also for gods and goddesses. There is a reason why Gaia, the mother goddess earth, turned her son into a fig tree to save him from Jupiter’s thunderbolts. In various parts of the world, women thought to be cursed and married to a Ficus carica before they can pledge their troth to the one they truly love�.
“Ever since Kostas was a boy, trees had offered him solace,
a sanctuary of his own, and he had perceived life through the colors and density of their boughs and foliage. Yet his profound admiration for plants had also afflicted him with a strange sense of guilt, as if by paying this much attention to nature he was neglecting something if not more crucial then at least as urgent and compelling � human suffering. Much as he loved the arboreal world and it’s complex ecosystem, was he, in some roundabout way, avoiding the day-to-day realities of politics and conflict? A part of him understood that people, especially where he came from, might see it this way, but a bigger part of him seriously rejected the idea.
He had always believed there was no hierarchy � or there should be none � between human pain and animal pain, and no precedence of human rights over animal rights, or indeed of human rights over those of plants, for that matter. He knew many among his fellow countrymen I would be deeply offended if he voiced this out loud�.
There are pages and pages of delicious moments�..
Here is one more�( put a sweet smile on my face):
“Defne was gone but Ada was here.
Kostas was worried that he was failing her. He had been withdrawn and taciturn this past year, a cloud of lethargy looming over everything he said and couldn’t say�.
They had been so close once, he and Ada. Like a bird imbuing each tale with suspense, he would tell her about night-blooming chocolate flowers, slowgrowing lithops � flowering stones � that strangely resembled pebbles, and Mimosa pudica, a plant so shy it would shrink away at the slightest touch. It warmed his heart to see his daughter’s endless fascination with nature; he would always patiently answer her questions. Back then, such was the strength of their bond that Defne, only half jokingly, would complain: ‘I’m jealous. See how Ada listens to you! She admires you, darling’�.
The symbolic relationship between humans and plants take several forms. Plants help humans breathe by providing us with oxygen, and humans help plants breathe by providing them with carbon dioxide�.
It’s a relationship made from love.💕🌳
Congrats to Elif Shafak�. a beautiful novel indeed!
Thank you Netgalley, Bloomsbury Publishing…and Elif Shafak
4.99 rating
�.I loved the ‘very� start/introduction with an excerpt by William Shakespeare:
“To immigrants and exiles everywhere, the uprooted, the re-rooted, the rootless,
And to the trees we left behind, rooted in our memories�.�
“Anyone who hasn’t been in the Chilean forest doesn’t know this planet. I have come out of that landscape, that mud, that silence, to roam, to go singing through the world�.
—Pablo Neruda, Memoirs
“It will have blood: They say blue head will have bled. Stones have been known to move and trees to speak�
� William Shakespeare, Macbeth
I also loved the beginning contextual quotes. (I felt it was a great way to set up readers. I was excited to dive into the main meal:
“Once upon a memory, at the far end of the Mediterranean Sea, there lay an island so beautiful and blue that the many travelers, pilgrims, crusaders and merchants who fell in love with it either wanted never to leave or try to tow it with hemp ropes all the way back to their own countries�.
“Legends, perhaps.
But legends are there to tell us what history has forgotten. It has been many years since I fled that place on board a plane, inside a suitcase made of soft black leather, never to return. I have since adopted another land, England, where I have grown and thrived, but not a single day passes that I do not yearn to be back. Home. Motherland�.
“The Mediterranean sea will collapse on itself and its secret will rise to the surface, as every secret is bound to do in the end�.
After the beautiful introduction we move into the first chapter.
�..We meet Ada Kazantzakis, sixteen years old at the start - in London. It’s the late 2010’s
She was sitting in class. The bells were about to ring for the Christmas holidays.
Everyone was concerned about a big storm coming that was expected to paralyze large swathes of England and Scotland and parts of northern Europe. People had been stockpiling, getting ready for the siege.
We learn that Ada’s father, Kostas, an evolutionary ecologist and botanist, had published twelve books � he wrote and spoke about the impact of deforestation with a passion.
Since the death of Ada’s mother -(a little less than a year ago) her father had retreated into research “like a burrowing animal hiding in its tunnel for safety and warmth�.
“No matter the time of day, her father seemed to prefer the company of trees to the company of humans�.
GREAT SET UP �.I was still very interested�.
But something also felt ‘off’�..
� [note: for me this was the only boo-boo, I didn’t feel fit]..
Just before Ada’s teacher, Mrs. Walcott dismissed the class for the Christmas holiday break� she gave the students an assignment.
They were to interview an elderly relative during the holidays. The teacher told them to support their five page essay with historical facts. She didn’t want speculation.
Ada had never met her relatives but she knew that they lived on an island in The Mediterranean Sea-in Cyprus.
Her relatives and the island with both mysteries to Ada.
ALL GOOD…clear!�.I was still excited to dive into this novel.
ܳ�
�..ٳ�.
THIS happened �.(I found it disturbing and puzzling):
A boo boo: (in my opinion).
Ada imagined her teacher touching herself at night.
It didn’t feel fitting with ‘anything�. It was so surprising to me. I found ‘nothing� that warranted this to be included in this story.
Plus, it was too fast and too soon to drop a sexual visual fantasy - about Ada’s teachers private life. I would have omitted it altogether.
We moved from the classroom to the next chapter called: “Fig Tree”�.
I was at 9% of this story.
I ‘began� to understand what was going on with the styling, crafting, and storytelling.
It’s bathed in lyrical magical realism.
The narrative switches back-and-forth from present day - 2010 to the past of 1974 when Ada’s parents - Kostas and Defne (Christian Greek and Turkish Muslim), were secretly dating, knowing their families would not approve of their relationship.
Kostas and Defne’s secret meeting place was in ‘The Happy Fig� tavern in Cyprus. The tavern was a happening spot for
Greeks, Turks, Armenians, Maronites, and UN soldiers.
The eco consciousness of The Fig Tree was powerful: [The fig Tree is one of the narrators]�.
Example of The Fig Tree’s voice:
“When you are buried, I’ll come and talk to you every day, Kostas said as he drove the spade into the ground. He bore down on the handle and lifted up the clod of soil, tossing it on to the growing mound beside him. You won’t feel lonely�.
“I wish I could have told him that loneliness is a human invention. Trees are never lonely. Humans think they know with certainty where their being ends and where someone else’s starts. With their roots tangled and caught up underground, linked to a fungi and bacteria, trees harbour no such illusion. For us, everything is interconnected�.
In the authors notes Elif wrote that many of the stories of the missing mentioned throughout the novel were based on real accounts. The story is fiction, but inspired by many real accounts. We learn about the fraught and unsettling history�(torn apart by war over religion divisions), the island became a matter of disagreement between two prominent ethnic communities: Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots.
“History has warned about the between humaninduced carbon emissions and rising temperatures�
Elif says�.
“I also wanted to honour local folklore and oral traditions. But everything here is fiction
� a mixture of wonder, dreams, love, sorrow and imagination�.
It takes a little concentration and patience�.to fully appreciate the magnitude of this novel. �.but it’s more than worth it.
Many sentences and paragraphs are not only beautifully written - but they are profoundly discerning and perceptive.
Elif Shafak gently exposes the depths of war, conflict, love, loss, trauma, migration, segregation, pain and suffering�.connecting our human world with our root-plant world.
“Plants can pick up vibrations, and many flowers are shaped like balls so as to better trap sound waves, some of which are too high for the human ear. Trees are full of songs and we are not shy to seeing them�.
“I listen carefully, and I find it astounding that trees, just through their presence, become a saviour for the downtrodden and symbol of suffering for people on opposite sides�.
“Across history we have been a refuge to a great many. A sanctuary not only for mortal humans, but also for gods and goddesses. There is a reason why Gaia, the mother goddess earth, turned her son into a fig tree to save him from Jupiter’s thunderbolts. In various parts of the world, women thought to be cursed and married to a Ficus carica before they can pledge their troth to the one they truly love�.
“Ever since Kostas was a boy, trees had offered him solace,
a sanctuary of his own, and he had perceived life through the colors and density of their boughs and foliage. Yet his profound admiration for plants had also afflicted him with a strange sense of guilt, as if by paying this much attention to nature he was neglecting something if not more crucial then at least as urgent and compelling � human suffering. Much as he loved the arboreal world and it’s complex ecosystem, was he, in some roundabout way, avoiding the day-to-day realities of politics and conflict? A part of him understood that people, especially where he came from, might see it this way, but a bigger part of him seriously rejected the idea.
He had always believed there was no hierarchy � or there should be none � between human pain and animal pain, and no precedence of human rights over animal rights, or indeed of human rights over those of plants, for that matter. He knew many among his fellow countrymen I would be deeply offended if he voiced this out loud�.
There are pages and pages of delicious moments�..
Here is one more�( put a sweet smile on my face):
“Defne was gone but Ada was here.
Kostas was worried that he was failing her. He had been withdrawn and taciturn this past year, a cloud of lethargy looming over everything he said and couldn’t say�.
They had been so close once, he and Ada. Like a bird imbuing each tale with suspense, he would tell her about night-blooming chocolate flowers, slowgrowing lithops � flowering stones � that strangely resembled pebbles, and Mimosa pudica, a plant so shy it would shrink away at the slightest touch. It warmed his heart to see his daughter’s endless fascination with nature; he would always patiently answer her questions. Back then, such was the strength of their bond that Defne, only half jokingly, would complain: ‘I’m jealous. See how Ada listens to you! She admires you, darling’�.
The symbolic relationship between humans and plants take several forms. Plants help humans breathe by providing us with oxygen, and humans help plants breathe by providing them with carbon dioxide�.
It’s a relationship made from love.💕🌳
Congrats to Elif Shafak�. a beautiful novel indeed!
Thank you Netgalley, Bloomsbury Publishing…and Elif Shafak
4.99 rating
January 3, 2023
if you can forgive the unpopular opinion (and also the pun), this was my type on paper but i just...didn't feel it.
i badly wanted to like this one, and i really thought i would, but i just never connected to it. i felt held at arm's length from page 1 till the end.
and it's not just because of my cold soul and cruel spirit.
i think.
bottom line: consider me bummed!
-------------------
tbr review
i don't know anything about this book but that's not stopping me from being excited to read it
(thank you to the publisher for the copy)
i badly wanted to like this one, and i really thought i would, but i just never connected to it. i felt held at arm's length from page 1 till the end.
and it's not just because of my cold soul and cruel spirit.
i think.
bottom line: consider me bummed!
-------------------
tbr review
i don't know anything about this book but that's not stopping me from being excited to read it
(thank you to the publisher for the copy)
November 27, 2024
Everyone likely has an unforgettable past deep in their heart. It might be someone who suddenly entered your life one day and then abruptly left. It could be a one - sided love that never bore fruit. Or it could be a stranger you got to know well online, confiding in them about everything, only for them to suddenly disappear.
You can't forget them, nor find a reason why. Longing for what you can't have might be a common human experience. The things that linger in your mind and heart are often the most suffocating and painful.
What we may need is not a resolution, but reconciliation, a self - liberation that comes from it. What truly provides relief is the burden you can finally set down.
This novel doesn't depict the world remaining the same after a storm. Instead, after the rain, a tree bud sprouts from the ground, and with the passage of time, it grows into a flourishing tree.
Starting from the clandestine love between 2 young fellow on the island of Cyprus, to England, into Elif Shafak’s literary world, and back to Cyprus, I feel like a traveler wandering along this circular spiritual path, stopping, pausing, and observing. Alternatively, I follow the story's pace, breathing rapidly and running wildly alongside the characters, never stopping.
The novel's unique structure blends the all - knowing perspective of a fig tree that escaped Cyprus with the intertwined fates of its characters, reflecting the urban structure of Cyprus. It becomes the streets and alleys, the sky and sea, the footsteps of its people, and the continuity of life in the city.
Elif Shafak’s pen, infused with her soul and emotions, uses ethereal and poetic tones to repeatedly depict the worries, anxieties, and restlessness of rootless immigrants wandering abroad. It also portrays the emotions, inner journeys, and daily lives of Greek and Turkish Cypriot families on a land heavy with disasters but rich in culture, set against the backdrop of culture, history, politics, religion, and war. In the fig tree tavern, there are moments of harmony and senseless quarrels, nameless restlessness and hysteria, daily routines of food, clothing, shelter, and transportation, the rising and falling of smoke. These scenes make me feel the human essence of Cypriot families while also showing the devastation they experienced from war. I can smell the fragrance of daily meals and the bloodshed that followed gunfire.
Through the anthropomorphic and omniscient perspective of the fig tree, and through the eyes of Ada, her father Kostas, and mother Defne, I truly enter this novel, the mysterious city of Cyprus, its heart, to feel the breath of life, the pulse of its people, and the pain of their wounds.
I love it, so so much!
And The Island of Missing Trees really makes Cyprus clear before me, and even Turkey and the entire Middle East become vivid and lively in my mind because of this novel. Ada’s distress over her teacher’s questions and classmates� mockery during history class, leading to her screams and growing self-doubt. Kostas’s suffering from national turmoil, familial betrayal, loss of loved ones, and forced separation from his lover, choosing to immerse himself in the world of plants to avoid hostility and tragedy. Finally reuniting with his lover and escaping their homeland despite family opposition, their daughter Ada, appearing in a seemingly friendly environment, struggles with anxiety and insecurity due to a sense of rootlessness. It’s not until her aunt arrives that her inner knot is untied, finally reconciling with her father and her wandering, empty self. As a reader, the vivid and rich storytelling allows me to hear their anxious, rapid breaths from miles away, feel a different world under a different sky, hear the heartbeat of that distant world.
Perhaps life is challenging and unknown. The difficulties in the book are everywhere. Some people avoid or ignore them, but the issues still linger in their minds, festering. Others fully accept and challenge them, ultimately finding relief.
We will all face our challenges. No matter the nature of these challenges, we will move past them, grow, and become unique individuals through our experiences. We can’t live in memories, but every person we meet and every event that occurs forms the story of our lives. The landscapes along our paths shape who we are now. Even if shadows always exist, sunshine will eventually penetrate. Rather than immersing ourselves in past sorrows, it's better to reconcile with our former selves.
The story’s ending is exceptionally perfect. Like a glass of water covered in dust left on a wooden table, sunlight slants through, scattering in the room. Ethereal and perfect. Yes, perfect. Closing the door, locking it with the passage of time, the deceased mother transforms into a fig tree, forever guarding the father and daughter. The story ends. Satisfying yet filled with inexplicable melancholy and reluctance.
Following Elif Shafak’s storytelling, I repeatedly enter the island called Cyprus, sensing and feeling the vast country. The wounds from war are not just the battlefield’s life and death but also the post - war revenge, assassinations, and the enduring pain throughout the region. Wherever you go, a sense of mourning seems to hover. Yet, the coldness emanating from the sky, streets, and stone walls will slowly heal.
I often recall Michael Ondaatje’s words: “It seems everyone has found their own life, while I spent a long time digging into the past.�
And now, with the truth largely known, it’s time to let go of the past and start a new life.
5 / 5 stars
You can't forget them, nor find a reason why. Longing for what you can't have might be a common human experience. The things that linger in your mind and heart are often the most suffocating and painful.
What we may need is not a resolution, but reconciliation, a self - liberation that comes from it. What truly provides relief is the burden you can finally set down.
This novel doesn't depict the world remaining the same after a storm. Instead, after the rain, a tree bud sprouts from the ground, and with the passage of time, it grows into a flourishing tree.
Starting from the clandestine love between 2 young fellow on the island of Cyprus, to England, into Elif Shafak’s literary world, and back to Cyprus, I feel like a traveler wandering along this circular spiritual path, stopping, pausing, and observing. Alternatively, I follow the story's pace, breathing rapidly and running wildly alongside the characters, never stopping.
The novel's unique structure blends the all - knowing perspective of a fig tree that escaped Cyprus with the intertwined fates of its characters, reflecting the urban structure of Cyprus. It becomes the streets and alleys, the sky and sea, the footsteps of its people, and the continuity of life in the city.
Elif Shafak’s pen, infused with her soul and emotions, uses ethereal and poetic tones to repeatedly depict the worries, anxieties, and restlessness of rootless immigrants wandering abroad. It also portrays the emotions, inner journeys, and daily lives of Greek and Turkish Cypriot families on a land heavy with disasters but rich in culture, set against the backdrop of culture, history, politics, religion, and war. In the fig tree tavern, there are moments of harmony and senseless quarrels, nameless restlessness and hysteria, daily routines of food, clothing, shelter, and transportation, the rising and falling of smoke. These scenes make me feel the human essence of Cypriot families while also showing the devastation they experienced from war. I can smell the fragrance of daily meals and the bloodshed that followed gunfire.
Through the anthropomorphic and omniscient perspective of the fig tree, and through the eyes of Ada, her father Kostas, and mother Defne, I truly enter this novel, the mysterious city of Cyprus, its heart, to feel the breath of life, the pulse of its people, and the pain of their wounds.
I love it, so so much!
And The Island of Missing Trees really makes Cyprus clear before me, and even Turkey and the entire Middle East become vivid and lively in my mind because of this novel. Ada’s distress over her teacher’s questions and classmates� mockery during history class, leading to her screams and growing self-doubt. Kostas’s suffering from national turmoil, familial betrayal, loss of loved ones, and forced separation from his lover, choosing to immerse himself in the world of plants to avoid hostility and tragedy. Finally reuniting with his lover and escaping their homeland despite family opposition, their daughter Ada, appearing in a seemingly friendly environment, struggles with anxiety and insecurity due to a sense of rootlessness. It’s not until her aunt arrives that her inner knot is untied, finally reconciling with her father and her wandering, empty self. As a reader, the vivid and rich storytelling allows me to hear their anxious, rapid breaths from miles away, feel a different world under a different sky, hear the heartbeat of that distant world.
Perhaps life is challenging and unknown. The difficulties in the book are everywhere. Some people avoid or ignore them, but the issues still linger in their minds, festering. Others fully accept and challenge them, ultimately finding relief.
We will all face our challenges. No matter the nature of these challenges, we will move past them, grow, and become unique individuals through our experiences. We can’t live in memories, but every person we meet and every event that occurs forms the story of our lives. The landscapes along our paths shape who we are now. Even if shadows always exist, sunshine will eventually penetrate. Rather than immersing ourselves in past sorrows, it's better to reconcile with our former selves.
The story’s ending is exceptionally perfect. Like a glass of water covered in dust left on a wooden table, sunlight slants through, scattering in the room. Ethereal and perfect. Yes, perfect. Closing the door, locking it with the passage of time, the deceased mother transforms into a fig tree, forever guarding the father and daughter. The story ends. Satisfying yet filled with inexplicable melancholy and reluctance.
Following Elif Shafak’s storytelling, I repeatedly enter the island called Cyprus, sensing and feeling the vast country. The wounds from war are not just the battlefield’s life and death but also the post - war revenge, assassinations, and the enduring pain throughout the region. Wherever you go, a sense of mourning seems to hover. Yet, the coldness emanating from the sky, streets, and stone walls will slowly heal.
I often recall Michael Ondaatje’s words: “It seems everyone has found their own life, while I spent a long time digging into the past.�
And now, with the truth largely known, it’s time to let go of the past and start a new life.
5 / 5 stars
September 4, 2022
This book definitely made me cry 🥺
I don’t even know what to say really. I loved the Fig telling her part of the story. I mean as a tree lover that was something super special. Kostas with his love of animals and nature made me love him from point A. But, there are some sad things in the book. I’m not even going to hint at those parts, they involve people, wildlife and trees. The owners of The Happy Fig damn near broke me. (Read the book)
I’m just going to leave with a few quotes, the first is from Ada. I’ve done exactly what she does in this quote but it was many times in my home and not school. And the I’ll leave some from the Fig.
*Ada*
*Fig*
Mel 🖤🐶🐺🐾
MY BLOG:
I don’t even know what to say really. I loved the Fig telling her part of the story. I mean as a tree lover that was something super special. Kostas with his love of animals and nature made me love him from point A. But, there are some sad things in the book. I’m not even going to hint at those parts, they involve people, wildlife and trees. The owners of The Happy Fig damn near broke me. (Read the book)
I’m just going to leave with a few quotes, the first is from Ada. I’ve done exactly what she does in this quote but it was many times in my home and not school. And the I’ll leave some from the Fig.
*Ada*
Her voice cracked but persisted. There was something profoundly humiliating yet equally electrifying about hearing yourself scream - breaking off, breaking away, uncontrolled, unfettered, without knowing how far it would carry you, this untamed force that rose from inside. It was an animal thing. A wilderness thing. Nothing about her belonged to her previous self at that moment. Above all her voice. This could have been the high shriek of a hawk, the soul-haunting howl of a wolf, the rasping cry of a red fox at midnight. It could have been any of them, but not the scream of a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl.
*Fig*
I wish I could have told him that loneliness is a human invention. Trees are never lonely. Humans think they know with certainty where their being ends and someone else’s starts. With their roots tangled and caught up underground, linked to fungi and bacteria, trees harbour no such illusions. For us, everything is interconnected.
I don’t have any of their charms, I admit. If you were to pass me on the street, you probably wouldn’t give me another glance. But I’d like to believe I’m attractive in my own way. What I lack in beauty and popularity, I make up for in mystery and inner strength.
Most arboreal suffering is caused by humankind.
Trees in urban areas grow faster than trees in rural areas. We also tend to die sooner.
Would people really like to know these things? I don’t think so. Frankly, I am not even sure they see us.
Humans walk by us every day, they sit and sleep, smoke and picnic in our shade, they pluck leaves and gorge themselves on our fruit, they break our branches, riding them like horses as children or using them to birch others into submission when they become older and crueller, they carve their lover’s name on our trunks and vow eternal love, they weave necklaces out of our needles and paint our flowers into art, they split us into logs to heat their homes and sometimes they chop us down just because we obstruct their view, they make cradles, wine corks, chewing gum and rustic furniture, and produce the most spellbinding music out of us, and they turn us into books in which they lose themselves on cold winter nights, they use our wood to manufacture coffins in which they end their lives, buried six feet under with us, and they even compose romantic poems to us, calling us the link between earth and sky, and yet they still do not see us.
Long after the island was partitioned and the tavern fell into disrepair, Kostas Kazantzakis took a cutting from one of my branches and put it in his suitcase. I guess I will always be grateful to him for doing that, otherwise nothing of me might have remained.
Mel 🖤🐶🐺🐾
MY BLOG:
April 10, 2022
The blurb makes it clear that a tree is significant in this book, a fig tree that grows in the centre of a tavern and out through the roof. What the blurb doesn’t spell out is that a large part of the novel is narrated by this tree. I wish I had known that before I started reading because, in all honesty, I probably would not have started: I have a bad history with books narrated by non-humans. Clearly, this is a personal taste thing: the early reviews of the book on NetGalley (which is where I got my copy - my thanks to the publisher for an ARC) almost universally praise Shafak for this narrative choice, but I am afraid it rather ruined the book for me. Clearly, you should read it to make up your own mind: this is just my reaction.
At the start of the book, after a brief introduction to the history of Cyprus that ends with two bodies in a well, we are with Ada, a young girl in a London classroom. When she is set some homework for the Christmas holidays that requires her to interview an older relative, we learn that all her relatives, with the exception of her parents, are in Cyprus and she has never met them. There is clearly history here. Something triggers within Ada leading to some extreme behaviour. After this, the story starts to switch between Ada’s narrative (set in the late 2010s) and that of her parents, Kostas and Defne, set mostly in 1974 but also, later on in the book, dropping in on the early 2000s for another crucial period. Ada’s story is about uncovering/discovering roots. Her parents� story, part of Ada’s root system, is about love in a time of division and war.
Structurally, the book is very reminiscent of Richard Powers� “The Overstory�. The central sections are named for parts of a tree (roots, trunk, branches and ecosystem for Shafak here and similarly for Powers). Both books contain a lot of science about trees. If you’ve read The Overstory (or “The Hidden/Secret Life of Trees�) there’s nothing new here, but if you haven’t read those books, get ready to have your mind blown by the behaviour of trees. For me, I have to say that it didn’t work well here having a tree passing on all that science about itself and its relatives and it worked even less well when other creatures started passing on information to the tree that they had read in human books or on human gravestones. But, again, that’s my personal taste interfering.
And it’s not just trees here. Migration is a key idea and both birds and butterflies put in appearances with some additional science.
But I guess Cyprus is the key focus here. We are drawn in because we are hearing the story of two lovers, but the chapters narrated by our friend the fig tree often take time to fill in some of the details of Cypriot history. One of the main characters becomes involved in the Committee on Missing Persons () which was set up in order to try to find the remains of the many, many people who disappeared during the upheavals and Shafak explains in an afterword that several stories of missing people included in the book are based on true accounts.
This is a novel full of ideas and themes. For me, some of those themes are under-developed, especially those in Ada’s story where something dramatic is picked up by social media but then the whole thing just fizzles out.
I wish I could have loved this book more. And I know it’s me not the book, but I just can’t get past the erudite tree that tells us a lot of the story. I know there’s such a thing as magical realism, but, for my taste, that didn’t sit well here with all the science and history and culture.
But, read it for yourself because there’s every chance you will love the tree like everyone else seems to.
At the start of the book, after a brief introduction to the history of Cyprus that ends with two bodies in a well, we are with Ada, a young girl in a London classroom. When she is set some homework for the Christmas holidays that requires her to interview an older relative, we learn that all her relatives, with the exception of her parents, are in Cyprus and she has never met them. There is clearly history here. Something triggers within Ada leading to some extreme behaviour. After this, the story starts to switch between Ada’s narrative (set in the late 2010s) and that of her parents, Kostas and Defne, set mostly in 1974 but also, later on in the book, dropping in on the early 2000s for another crucial period. Ada’s story is about uncovering/discovering roots. Her parents� story, part of Ada’s root system, is about love in a time of division and war.
Structurally, the book is very reminiscent of Richard Powers� “The Overstory�. The central sections are named for parts of a tree (roots, trunk, branches and ecosystem for Shafak here and similarly for Powers). Both books contain a lot of science about trees. If you’ve read The Overstory (or “The Hidden/Secret Life of Trees�) there’s nothing new here, but if you haven’t read those books, get ready to have your mind blown by the behaviour of trees. For me, I have to say that it didn’t work well here having a tree passing on all that science about itself and its relatives and it worked even less well when other creatures started passing on information to the tree that they had read in human books or on human gravestones. But, again, that’s my personal taste interfering.
And it’s not just trees here. Migration is a key idea and both birds and butterflies put in appearances with some additional science.
But I guess Cyprus is the key focus here. We are drawn in because we are hearing the story of two lovers, but the chapters narrated by our friend the fig tree often take time to fill in some of the details of Cypriot history. One of the main characters becomes involved in the Committee on Missing Persons () which was set up in order to try to find the remains of the many, many people who disappeared during the upheavals and Shafak explains in an afterword that several stories of missing people included in the book are based on true accounts.
This is a novel full of ideas and themes. For me, some of those themes are under-developed, especially those in Ada’s story where something dramatic is picked up by social media but then the whole thing just fizzles out.
I wish I could have loved this book more. And I know it’s me not the book, but I just can’t get past the erudite tree that tells us a lot of the story. I know there’s such a thing as magical realism, but, for my taste, that didn’t sit well here with all the science and history and culture.
But, read it for yourself because there’s every chance you will love the tree like everyone else seems to.
November 18, 2021
A beautiful but sad story. A story of love and war. A story of colonialization, division and those who dared to defy prejudice. A story that shows how the scars, wounds of one generation affects the next. The island of Cyprus, an island divided between the Greeks and Turks, an island that will see much death and destruction. A taverna, where two men, one Greek, one Turkish dared to love each other and will try to help a young couple in love. A couple whose family would not approve of their mixed marriage. A fig tree who will bear witness to all, will be left for dead, but will find a piece of itself saved and taken to London.
When I first encountered this talking fig tree, I thought please don't let this book be corny. First book I've read by this author, so I didn't know to expect the fantastic writing I found within. This fig tree will teach us about nature, the life of trees, the insects and animals that use the trees. Bearing witness to love, war, the culture and events that this island, this young couple, faced. A young girl in the future would wrestle with the culmination of this love and the bullying she faces at school. There is alot here and it shouldn't work, but it does. It's an ingenuous use of magical realism to combine these events into a cohesive and poignant whole. I will, however, feel guilty the next time my grass is mowed.
"Today I think of fanaticism-of any type -as a viral disease. Creeping in menacingly, ticking like a pendulum clock that never winds down, it takes hold of you faster when you are part of an enclosed homogenous unit."
"Bridges appear in our lives only when we are ready."
"The cruelty of life rested not only on its injustices, injuries and atrocities, but also in the randomness of it all.
My monthly read with Angela and Esil. One we all loved.
When I first encountered this talking fig tree, I thought please don't let this book be corny. First book I've read by this author, so I didn't know to expect the fantastic writing I found within. This fig tree will teach us about nature, the life of trees, the insects and animals that use the trees. Bearing witness to love, war, the culture and events that this island, this young couple, faced. A young girl in the future would wrestle with the culmination of this love and the bullying she faces at school. There is alot here and it shouldn't work, but it does. It's an ingenuous use of magical realism to combine these events into a cohesive and poignant whole. I will, however, feel guilty the next time my grass is mowed.
"Today I think of fanaticism-of any type -as a viral disease. Creeping in menacingly, ticking like a pendulum clock that never winds down, it takes hold of you faster when you are part of an enclosed homogenous unit."
"Bridges appear in our lives only when we are ready."
"The cruelty of life rested not only on its injustices, injuries and atrocities, but also in the randomness of it all.
My monthly read with Angela and Esil. One we all loved.
August 14, 2022
I often believe just a simple star rating can say it all. Or maybe just a couple of adjectives to describe a book.
If I did that for ‘The Island of Missing Trees� I would write: exquisite, atmospheric, mystic, intriguing, heart-breaking, hopeful�
But this book deserves more from me and it’s not often I go into such detail of the plot.
Other readers may differ, but I recognised three distinct voices in this novel:
Ada is a British teenager who is navigating her path to adulthood. She’s trying to find her way in her world that is marked by recent grief and not fitting in all that well in at school. She carries the burden of her parents who were Cypriot immigrants, one Greek, the other Turkish, therefore the differences in culture are set from the start.
Ada has never visited Cyprus, her parents say little of their previous lives, so where does Ada fit? How does she deal with the conflicting cultures that bubble under the surface, coupled with generational traumas? Immigrants often never lose the pull from their birth places � so what happens to their children born in a foreign land? Is her family’s past really important to Ada? Will we get all the answers?
Then we get introduced to Ada’s aunt, Aunt Meryem, who suddenly visits England for the first time. She did not attend her sister’s funeral, so why is she here now? From Meryem, Ada learns something about her Cypriot roots, unwillingly at first. Some family secrets are revealed and Ada finds pieces of the puzzle about her parents. But will Meryem give Ada all the answers?
And the third is that of a ‘Fig Tree�. Yes, if we allow ourselves, we develop an intimate relationship with this voice and learn so much about geography, ecology/botany, mythology, religion, climate, the fragility of human relationships and the troubling history of Cyprus; invasions, coups, divisions and peace keeping efforts. The tree takes on a surprisingly, and somewhat baffling identity at the end, but after my initial disappointment and confusion, such a turn in the text adds to the book’s overall appeal.
This tree’s voice is educative, mysterious at times, but also sometimes grounding. It appears to be the link between Cyprus and England; between Ada’s parents; between Ada and her aunt; between Ada’s father and his sister-in-law; of old friends who disappeared and extended family members, a link to what happened to them all in the past. The tree is also a strong link between the reader and the storyline � a clever storytelling device, if not always convincing. The symbolism of the connectivity of roots and branches was not lost on me. The fig provides some answers, but keeps some mystery in the narrative.
After a stunning start of atmosphere and symbolism, the three voices slowly merge and bring us into the real, somewhat routine world of Ada and her widowered father who pampers and protects his beloved ‘Fig Tree� � grown from a sapling cut from the ‘mother� tree and smuggled out of Cypress. Both yet-to-be born Ada and the sampling arrived in England at the same time. Read into that all you wish. I did.
The tree (and its relationship with other flora and us) also acts as a clarion call for our environment, a cautionary call about global warming well before it became known and felt as it is today. This book goes deep into the relationships between people and the earth.
Did it give me all the answers?
There are numerous ‘themes� to this book, but after finishing it, my main takeaway was climate change. Within the first chapters, Ada lets out a prolonged scream in her classroom that unsettled, dismayed and drew ridicule from her classmates. A video of the scream got posted on social media but gradually gained some recognition from all over the world. Viewers started to side with Ada � “We hear you�.
Our earth has let out a scream � it’s still screaming. Gradually, more and more people around the world are hearing it. More and more people are thinking about and taking action on climate change.
Yes. That is the answer I was looking for in this book.
My rating is 4.5 stars. It narrowly misses the full 5-star rating because there were times (just a few) when the text became too scientific and long winded, particularly from the voice of the ‘Fig Tree�.
The extra half star is awarded for my first ‘buddy read� with my GRs friend Marge Moen: /user/show/2....
This enjoyable process deserves its own 5 stars. Marge and I were united in our enthusiasm for ‘The Island of Missing Trees� and I gained a lot more from it through exploring it through exchanges of ideas.
If I did that for ‘The Island of Missing Trees� I would write: exquisite, atmospheric, mystic, intriguing, heart-breaking, hopeful�
But this book deserves more from me and it’s not often I go into such detail of the plot.
Other readers may differ, but I recognised three distinct voices in this novel:
Ada is a British teenager who is navigating her path to adulthood. She’s trying to find her way in her world that is marked by recent grief and not fitting in all that well in at school. She carries the burden of her parents who were Cypriot immigrants, one Greek, the other Turkish, therefore the differences in culture are set from the start.
Ada has never visited Cyprus, her parents say little of their previous lives, so where does Ada fit? How does she deal with the conflicting cultures that bubble under the surface, coupled with generational traumas? Immigrants often never lose the pull from their birth places � so what happens to their children born in a foreign land? Is her family’s past really important to Ada? Will we get all the answers?
Then we get introduced to Ada’s aunt, Aunt Meryem, who suddenly visits England for the first time. She did not attend her sister’s funeral, so why is she here now? From Meryem, Ada learns something about her Cypriot roots, unwillingly at first. Some family secrets are revealed and Ada finds pieces of the puzzle about her parents. But will Meryem give Ada all the answers?
And the third is that of a ‘Fig Tree�. Yes, if we allow ourselves, we develop an intimate relationship with this voice and learn so much about geography, ecology/botany, mythology, religion, climate, the fragility of human relationships and the troubling history of Cyprus; invasions, coups, divisions and peace keeping efforts. The tree takes on a surprisingly, and somewhat baffling identity at the end, but after my initial disappointment and confusion, such a turn in the text adds to the book’s overall appeal.
This tree’s voice is educative, mysterious at times, but also sometimes grounding. It appears to be the link between Cyprus and England; between Ada’s parents; between Ada and her aunt; between Ada’s father and his sister-in-law; of old friends who disappeared and extended family members, a link to what happened to them all in the past. The tree is also a strong link between the reader and the storyline � a clever storytelling device, if not always convincing. The symbolism of the connectivity of roots and branches was not lost on me. The fig provides some answers, but keeps some mystery in the narrative.
After a stunning start of atmosphere and symbolism, the three voices slowly merge and bring us into the real, somewhat routine world of Ada and her widowered father who pampers and protects his beloved ‘Fig Tree� � grown from a sapling cut from the ‘mother� tree and smuggled out of Cypress. Both yet-to-be born Ada and the sampling arrived in England at the same time. Read into that all you wish. I did.
The tree (and its relationship with other flora and us) also acts as a clarion call for our environment, a cautionary call about global warming well before it became known and felt as it is today. This book goes deep into the relationships between people and the earth.
Did it give me all the answers?
There are numerous ‘themes� to this book, but after finishing it, my main takeaway was climate change. Within the first chapters, Ada lets out a prolonged scream in her classroom that unsettled, dismayed and drew ridicule from her classmates. A video of the scream got posted on social media but gradually gained some recognition from all over the world. Viewers started to side with Ada � “We hear you�.
Our earth has let out a scream � it’s still screaming. Gradually, more and more people around the world are hearing it. More and more people are thinking about and taking action on climate change.
Yes. That is the answer I was looking for in this book.
My rating is 4.5 stars. It narrowly misses the full 5-star rating because there were times (just a few) when the text became too scientific and long winded, particularly from the voice of the ‘Fig Tree�.
The extra half star is awarded for my first ‘buddy read� with my GRs friend Marge Moen: /user/show/2....
This enjoyable process deserves its own 5 stars. Marge and I were united in our enthusiasm for ‘The Island of Missing Trees� and I gained a lot more from it through exploring it through exchanges of ideas.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 19, 2022
Elif Shafak, jesteś królową! Jakie to było wspaniałe!
November 2, 2021
The Island of Missing Trees is a magnificent story about love, loss, identity, and nature.
Set in 1974 Cyprus, the country is in turmoil between the two religious groups on the island. Despite the danger it presents, Kostas, a Greek Cypriot, and Defne, a Turkish Cypriot, are young and in love at a time when there is a lot of turmoil between the two groups living on the island. The only place safe for the two to meet is at a tavern called The Happy Fig. The Happy Fig gets its name from a fig tree planted in the centre. This tree remembers everything that goes on in the tavern. The tree remembers the lover’s secret meetings, war breaking out, and what came after.
Fast forward to present-day London, Ada is grieving the death of her mother. She feels that she can’t open up to Kostas, her father, because he is always buried in his work and talking to the fig tree in their backyard. Ada’s parents raised her in an English-speaking household and have never revealed much about their life in Cyprus. With the help of her visiting aunt, she begins to learn what her parents have left unsaid and discover her identity.
This story has beautiful and lyrical prose with a sprinkle of magical realism. It’s told from the perspectives of Ada, Kostas, and the fig tree. The chapters are short, making this easy to fly through, even though I didn’t want it to end. There is also a helpful glossary of terms.
It explores the harsh realities of war on civilians, the resulting traumas, and ways to heal from it.
I forgot to mention that there’s also a talking parrot. This is the second book I’ve read this month that had one. I see a trend and, authors, I would like all future novels to have one too, please.
This was my first Elif Shafak novel, but it will in no way be my last.
Thank you to Bloomsbury Publishing for the arc via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
For more book reviews, see my blog:
Set in 1974 Cyprus, the country is in turmoil between the two religious groups on the island. Despite the danger it presents, Kostas, a Greek Cypriot, and Defne, a Turkish Cypriot, are young and in love at a time when there is a lot of turmoil between the two groups living on the island. The only place safe for the two to meet is at a tavern called The Happy Fig. The Happy Fig gets its name from a fig tree planted in the centre. This tree remembers everything that goes on in the tavern. The tree remembers the lover’s secret meetings, war breaking out, and what came after.
Fast forward to present-day London, Ada is grieving the death of her mother. She feels that she can’t open up to Kostas, her father, because he is always buried in his work and talking to the fig tree in their backyard. Ada’s parents raised her in an English-speaking household and have never revealed much about their life in Cyprus. With the help of her visiting aunt, she begins to learn what her parents have left unsaid and discover her identity.
This story has beautiful and lyrical prose with a sprinkle of magical realism. It’s told from the perspectives of Ada, Kostas, and the fig tree. The chapters are short, making this easy to fly through, even though I didn’t want it to end. There is also a helpful glossary of terms.
It explores the harsh realities of war on civilians, the resulting traumas, and ways to heal from it.
I forgot to mention that there’s also a talking parrot. This is the second book I’ve read this month that had one. I see a trend and, authors, I would like all future novels to have one too, please.
This was my first Elif Shafak novel, but it will in no way be my last.
Thank you to Bloomsbury Publishing for the arc via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
For more book reviews, see my blog:
November 5, 2022
The Island of Missing Trees is a magnificent love story of life, loss, love, pain, acceptance, defiance, and resilience.
I have read several of Elif Shafak's books and this is my favorite. Shafak tells a tale of the war-torn island of Cyprus and the conflicts between Turks and Greek, Christians and Muslims.
Shafak writes with a wondrous imagination, about a fig tree, that breathes an uncanny life, as a backdrop of her novel. Initially, I felt a bit jaded about a tree, transforming into a character, but then I remembered something profoundly sentimental in my own life, tying my family to a tree.
After my father passed away, there was a tree that shaded the bay window in his room. He planted the tree with the idea that it would protect him in the afternoon from the blazing sun. Once he had cancer and spent most of his time in his room, the tree (now that I recall) almost seemed to be his friend. I never really paid much attention to the tree, until his passing.
A week or so after his death, we woke up in the morning, to see this large sprawling tree, snapped in half, laying lifeless against the grass. That was the moment I realized that trees and humans have an interconnectedness, that many don't realize.
If you plant it, you most definitely must care for it. My father always had a green thumb, he was tender to his tree-his friend. I recall my mother saying, the tree died from a broken heart.
Kostas, a lover of trees has brought his fig tree along with him to London from Cyprus. After the passing of his wife Defne, he forms a peculiar relationship with the tree. His teen daughter Ada worries about her father's infatuation with the tree.
Yet, the tree is the connection to his past. Kostas was a Greek Christian and Defne, a Turkish Muslim. Their love was a forbidden one, hidden against the treacherous terrain of war and heartache.
The Island of Missing Trees spans over three decades from the 1970s to almost the present day. We waltz between Cyprus and England. In England, we are introduced to Kostas' teen daughter, Ada. Ada has just lost her mother, reeling with pain. When her mother's sister, Maream comes to stay with the family a new story unfolds. Although Ada is disillusioned and apathetic to her parents' past, she begins to unravel the mysteries that tied her mother and father together.
Shafak writes with precise eloquence and passionate prose about a topic that seems to be dear to her heart. Being Turkish herself, she can weave together the disjointed history and an almost ill-fated relationship between two star-crossed lovers.
I adored this book for its eloquent writing and moving story. 5/5 stars.
I have read several of Elif Shafak's books and this is my favorite. Shafak tells a tale of the war-torn island of Cyprus and the conflicts between Turks and Greek, Christians and Muslims.
Shafak writes with a wondrous imagination, about a fig tree, that breathes an uncanny life, as a backdrop of her novel. Initially, I felt a bit jaded about a tree, transforming into a character, but then I remembered something profoundly sentimental in my own life, tying my family to a tree.
After my father passed away, there was a tree that shaded the bay window in his room. He planted the tree with the idea that it would protect him in the afternoon from the blazing sun. Once he had cancer and spent most of his time in his room, the tree (now that I recall) almost seemed to be his friend. I never really paid much attention to the tree, until his passing.
A week or so after his death, we woke up in the morning, to see this large sprawling tree, snapped in half, laying lifeless against the grass. That was the moment I realized that trees and humans have an interconnectedness, that many don't realize.
If you plant it, you most definitely must care for it. My father always had a green thumb, he was tender to his tree-his friend. I recall my mother saying, the tree died from a broken heart.
Kostas, a lover of trees has brought his fig tree along with him to London from Cyprus. After the passing of his wife Defne, he forms a peculiar relationship with the tree. His teen daughter Ada worries about her father's infatuation with the tree.
Yet, the tree is the connection to his past. Kostas was a Greek Christian and Defne, a Turkish Muslim. Their love was a forbidden one, hidden against the treacherous terrain of war and heartache.
The Island of Missing Trees spans over three decades from the 1970s to almost the present day. We waltz between Cyprus and England. In England, we are introduced to Kostas' teen daughter, Ada. Ada has just lost her mother, reeling with pain. When her mother's sister, Maream comes to stay with the family a new story unfolds. Although Ada is disillusioned and apathetic to her parents' past, she begins to unravel the mysteries that tied her mother and father together.
Shafak writes with precise eloquence and passionate prose about a topic that seems to be dear to her heart. Being Turkish herself, she can weave together the disjointed history and an almost ill-fated relationship between two star-crossed lovers.
I adored this book for its eloquent writing and moving story. 5/5 stars.
May 7, 2022
This was my book club read for May, it's a beautifully written book that has so much to say about family, grief, and connection.
It is set in multiple time periods, but mostly alternating between the 1970s in Cyprus where two young people fall in love: Kostas is Greek and Defne is Turkish, and this is just not acceptable as the two sides are in the midst of a civil war and have different religious beliefs. As well as the late 2010s, where Kostas and his teen daughter Ada are living in London and each dealing with Defne's death in their own way. Overarching it all is the point of view of the fig tree, which first observes the couple in Cyprus and then a cutting of her travels to England and is narrating in the present day.
I appreciated the emotional depth of the story, the evolution of the relationship between Kostas and Defne and then Kostas and Ada. I learned a great deal about the history of Cyprus, and how devastating the wars were on the people involved. The grief of generations flows through each one. I wanted a little bit more from the present day storyline, I felt like some of the story was left a bit unfinished. Yet overall this is a resonant book and I'm very glad I got a chance to read it.
It is set in multiple time periods, but mostly alternating between the 1970s in Cyprus where two young people fall in love: Kostas is Greek and Defne is Turkish, and this is just not acceptable as the two sides are in the midst of a civil war and have different religious beliefs. As well as the late 2010s, where Kostas and his teen daughter Ada are living in London and each dealing with Defne's death in their own way. Overarching it all is the point of view of the fig tree, which first observes the couple in Cyprus and then a cutting of her travels to England and is narrating in the present day.
I appreciated the emotional depth of the story, the evolution of the relationship between Kostas and Defne and then Kostas and Ada. I learned a great deal about the history of Cyprus, and how devastating the wars were on the people involved. The grief of generations flows through each one. I wanted a little bit more from the present day storyline, I felt like some of the story was left a bit unfinished. Yet overall this is a resonant book and I'm very glad I got a chance to read it.
January 5, 2025
This review contains a Twigger warning.
I read this book due to its longlisting for the 2022 Women’s Prize for which it is now shortlisted.
I had previously received an ARC of the book ahead of its publication in August 2021 - I confess I had requested the book as part of reading books tipped to be longlisted for the Booker Prize, struggled with an element of the novel and decided only to revisit it if and when it received a prize listing.
The element I struggled with was that a very large part of the book is narrated by a fig tree (hence my warning).
Returning to the 2022 Women’s Prize - the longlist this year was a surprising one, missing out many books heavily tipped to appear, and also a weaker than normal one as it was light on the usual Women’s Prize inclusion of a number of very literary books.
The list also stood out for an unusual preponderance of three types of book: Books which are Young Adult not just in their protagonists but also their writing style; Fantasy/Magic Realism - and particularly ghost stories; and non-Human narrators. And interestingly this book sits at the intersection of all these tendencies.
The book takes place over two main timelines (which also exploring crucial points in between): 1974 Cyprus (about to be racked by coup/civil war, invasion and war crimes - something which of course adds an accidental topicality to the book) and late 2010s North London (plus an exploration of a crucial point between).
In 1974 in a rather clichéd plot two a sensitive (and plant/animal loving) Greek boy Kostas and a more down to earth Turkish girl Defne, conduct a tentative forbidden romance - a romance which to add additional cliché takes place in an atmospheric and famous tavern (at one stage we are even given the menu) marked for both the fig tree which dominates its interior and its owners (two men - of course one Greek, one Turkish and of course in a doubly forbidden relationship).
In 2010 North London (where far too many literary novels are set) - their daughter Ada (Island), now without her mother (who died due to an accidental mix of alcohol and pills) and increasingly starting to be distanced from her eccentric father (now a biologist and researcher) suddenly screams for a full minute in her school history class. This incident and the visit of her newly divorced and mother’s sister (estranged for many years from Kostas/Defne due to their transgressive relationship - but now free to visit after the death of her parents) causes Ada to revisit the past of her parents and on how she may have inherited their trauma.
And an intermediate phase we revisit Cyprus in the early 2000s, as Kostas visits Cyprus for the first time since he was made to go and live in London in 1974, and deliberately engineers a meeting with Defne (with who he lost all contact in involuntary exile) and the two rekindle their relationship against a background of Defne’s harrowing work as a foresnic archaeologist with the (real-life) Committee for Missing Persons - trying to bring reconciliation and closure by finding buried bodies.
But - and it is a very big but, alternate chapters of the book in all three timelines are narrated in first person by the fig tree that was originally in the tavern and which was transplanted (as a cutting) by Kostas to London when he and Defne moved there. And the fig tree relies (particularly in the intermediate timeline) on a mosquito and some ants as an unlikely and rather convenient source of information.
And there are a number of issues with this choice (besides the obvious one of its slight ludicrousness).
Firstly, there seems to be a contradiction at the heart of the choice which then reflects in the narrative voice. I feel that the author is simultaneously setting out and exploring the world of trees and their root systems (in a way which I suspect is now rather over familiar to active readers of non-fiction writers such as Merlin Sheldrake and Peter Wohlleben; and of the many literary fiction books they have inspired); while also trying to write a fairly conventional story of human conflict, love and social interactions - I would contrast this say the writing of Richard Powers in “Overstory� which emphasises and prioritises nature over humanity (incidentally we are told that Kostas does the same but don’t necessarily see it). And this tension reflects in the rather confused voice of a tree which seems to spend much of its time pointing out the differences between trees (and other flora and fauna) and humans, while also adopting an extremely anthromorphic set of expressions, feelings and emotions.
Secondly the Tree appears to have access to Wikipedia but not to a story telling imagination - so that large parts of what the Tree recounts (not just about Flora and Fauna but even more glaringly about the history of Cyprus) feel like a rather clunky factual cut and paste
Thirdly while some of the analogies between tree life and human life work well - for example the idea of hidden trauma, how your hidden roots effect your health and a more complex one about an epigenetic reaction to experienced trauma which then carries down to non-traumatised descendants - even these are often repeated (having both a tree and a tree expert in the book inevitably means both seem keen to explain the same ideas). And some ideas just don’t seem to work - for example one key assertion is about how the cyclicality of arboreal life contrasts with the linearity of human life - which is an interesting one, rather undermined by using tree rings as an example (which are surely an annual record of decades or centuries of linearity).
Ada’s screaming incident is also captured on camera and ends up fuelling a worldwide social media meme and movement which is an interesting idea but one the author seems to completely lose interest in, in a rather anticlimactic ending to the human part of the story. Similarly at two separate points the book flirts with mysticism (both in Cyprus and later England) - in both cases rather fizzling out in the light of the scepticism of Ada and her mother.
However, the tree part of the story does end with a rather nice twist which both reinforces the not-inconsiderable emotional heft of the novel; while also causing one to question some of one’s criticism of the tree’s narrative (albeit second thoughts seem to show that the surprise in the twist is really due to it not really following that logically).
Overall and despite my criticisms this is nevertheless an enjoyable book - with lots of very moving and lyrical writing, a very strong and evocative sense of time and place, and some difficult and unfortunately very resonant for 2022 themes. As a result I would be surprised - and not disappointed - if it did not make the shortlist and not completely shocked if it even won.
I read this book due to its longlisting for the 2022 Women’s Prize for which it is now shortlisted.
I had previously received an ARC of the book ahead of its publication in August 2021 - I confess I had requested the book as part of reading books tipped to be longlisted for the Booker Prize, struggled with an element of the novel and decided only to revisit it if and when it received a prize listing.
The element I struggled with was that a very large part of the book is narrated by a fig tree (hence my warning).
Returning to the 2022 Women’s Prize - the longlist this year was a surprising one, missing out many books heavily tipped to appear, and also a weaker than normal one as it was light on the usual Women’s Prize inclusion of a number of very literary books.
The list also stood out for an unusual preponderance of three types of book: Books which are Young Adult not just in their protagonists but also their writing style; Fantasy/Magic Realism - and particularly ghost stories; and non-Human narrators. And interestingly this book sits at the intersection of all these tendencies.
The book takes place over two main timelines (which also exploring crucial points in between): 1974 Cyprus (about to be racked by coup/civil war, invasion and war crimes - something which of course adds an accidental topicality to the book) and late 2010s North London (plus an exploration of a crucial point between).
In 1974 in a rather clichéd plot two a sensitive (and plant/animal loving) Greek boy Kostas and a more down to earth Turkish girl Defne, conduct a tentative forbidden romance - a romance which to add additional cliché takes place in an atmospheric and famous tavern (at one stage we are even given the menu) marked for both the fig tree which dominates its interior and its owners (two men - of course one Greek, one Turkish and of course in a doubly forbidden relationship).
In 2010 North London (where far too many literary novels are set) - their daughter Ada (Island), now without her mother (who died due to an accidental mix of alcohol and pills) and increasingly starting to be distanced from her eccentric father (now a biologist and researcher) suddenly screams for a full minute in her school history class. This incident and the visit of her newly divorced and mother’s sister (estranged for many years from Kostas/Defne due to their transgressive relationship - but now free to visit after the death of her parents) causes Ada to revisit the past of her parents and on how she may have inherited their trauma.
And an intermediate phase we revisit Cyprus in the early 2000s, as Kostas visits Cyprus for the first time since he was made to go and live in London in 1974, and deliberately engineers a meeting with Defne (with who he lost all contact in involuntary exile) and the two rekindle their relationship against a background of Defne’s harrowing work as a foresnic archaeologist with the (real-life) Committee for Missing Persons - trying to bring reconciliation and closure by finding buried bodies.
But - and it is a very big but, alternate chapters of the book in all three timelines are narrated in first person by the fig tree that was originally in the tavern and which was transplanted (as a cutting) by Kostas to London when he and Defne moved there. And the fig tree relies (particularly in the intermediate timeline) on a mosquito and some ants as an unlikely and rather convenient source of information.
And there are a number of issues with this choice (besides the obvious one of its slight ludicrousness).
Firstly, there seems to be a contradiction at the heart of the choice which then reflects in the narrative voice. I feel that the author is simultaneously setting out and exploring the world of trees and their root systems (in a way which I suspect is now rather over familiar to active readers of non-fiction writers such as Merlin Sheldrake and Peter Wohlleben; and of the many literary fiction books they have inspired); while also trying to write a fairly conventional story of human conflict, love and social interactions - I would contrast this say the writing of Richard Powers in “Overstory� which emphasises and prioritises nature over humanity (incidentally we are told that Kostas does the same but don’t necessarily see it). And this tension reflects in the rather confused voice of a tree which seems to spend much of its time pointing out the differences between trees (and other flora and fauna) and humans, while also adopting an extremely anthromorphic set of expressions, feelings and emotions.
Secondly the Tree appears to have access to Wikipedia but not to a story telling imagination - so that large parts of what the Tree recounts (not just about Flora and Fauna but even more glaringly about the history of Cyprus) feel like a rather clunky factual cut and paste
Thirdly while some of the analogies between tree life and human life work well - for example the idea of hidden trauma, how your hidden roots effect your health and a more complex one about an epigenetic reaction to experienced trauma which then carries down to non-traumatised descendants - even these are often repeated (having both a tree and a tree expert in the book inevitably means both seem keen to explain the same ideas). And some ideas just don’t seem to work - for example one key assertion is about how the cyclicality of arboreal life contrasts with the linearity of human life - which is an interesting one, rather undermined by using tree rings as an example (which are surely an annual record of decades or centuries of linearity).
Ada’s screaming incident is also captured on camera and ends up fuelling a worldwide social media meme and movement which is an interesting idea but one the author seems to completely lose interest in, in a rather anticlimactic ending to the human part of the story. Similarly at two separate points the book flirts with mysticism (both in Cyprus and later England) - in both cases rather fizzling out in the light of the scepticism of Ada and her mother.
However, the tree part of the story does end with a rather nice twist which both reinforces the not-inconsiderable emotional heft of the novel; while also causing one to question some of one’s criticism of the tree’s narrative (albeit second thoughts seem to show that the surprise in the twist is really due to it not really following that logically).
Overall and despite my criticisms this is nevertheless an enjoyable book - with lots of very moving and lyrical writing, a very strong and evocative sense of time and place, and some difficult and unfortunately very resonant for 2022 themes. As a result I would be surprised - and not disappointed - if it did not make the shortlist and not completely shocked if it even won.
October 9, 2021
There were parts of the book I found deeply satisfying and moving and other parts that frustrated me or that I rushed over, and my rating reflects this.
In 2010s London a 16-year old girl, Ada Kazantzakis, who recently lost her mother, is having a hard time adjusting to her new life. Her father is having a hard time too. An ecologist and botanist, Kostas Kazantzakis is more at ease among his plants than with other people or his daughter. And what about the dead mother? We are told small bits here and there, and the only certainty is that she was very much loved by both her husband and her daughter. And the other relatives? The other relatives never set foor in her home and they declined to even be in her funeral. But why?
Told through alternating points of view, that of young Ada, but also a fig tree that speaks in the first person and used to live in Nicosia, Cyprus before a cut was transported to London, the story of two young lovers whose love was strictly forbidden unfolds bit by bit. The reader is taken back to 1974 Cyprus just before the events of ethnic violence and partition that took place on the island. We gradually find out that the love of the two young people was forbidden because one of them was a Greek Cypriot (Kostas) and the other a Turkish Cypriot (Defne). Even before the partition, people were unhappy about communities intermingling in this way, and the young lovers' parents would disapprove. But when violence erupts and people get killed in the streets, their relationship becomes impossible. Will they rise above the circumstances and save their relationship or will they allow the world, including their parents, to tear them apart? We know through young Ada's existence that they stayed together and had a child. But the reality of what happened is much more complex and circuitous than this fact alone attests to. An incident at school that upsets Ada, an aunt that arrives seemingly out of nowhere and a fig tree that has seen much and can say much if only you knew how to ask will be the catalysts for change and growth.
I loved the theme that Elif Shafak chose for this book: the ethnic violence that tore the island apart, the trauma of civil war, the silence that victims of violence endure... Shafak does not accuse or judge, and when a character in the book asks the question 'Who did that, Greeks or Turks?' referring to a gay couple that were brutally murdered, the reply is 'islanders, just like all of us'. A sense of common identity and belonging is fostered in the book. But this common identity is hard, even impossible in the face of so much bloodshed and wounding... Shafak of course is aware of this, and has her main characters stamped by the violence inexorably. Without wanting to reveal what happens to the main characters, suffice it to say that people do not quite rise above the circumstances but carry their wounding with them to the end.
The characters were very vivid and I really cared for them, especially young Ada. I also liked how Shafak intergated issues of global warming and climate change in her narrative: through the fig tree that talks about the arboreal condition and through Kostas' work. The aunt was a striking character proving that healing sometimes comes not through the wise but through the simple. But the plot was so riveting I sometimes found myself rushing through the pages and skipping stuff just to find out what happened to the characters next. The language was lyrical, too lyrical at times. This will certainly delight people with a penchant for lyricism but others, maybe not so much.
For me the biggest achievement of the book is bringing the wounding of the Greek and Turkish Cypriot communities out into the open. This may be a thankless task. One of the characters in the book is heavily involved in finding the missing people in Cyprus, seeking information from local residents and using sophisticated DNA analysis to identify the remains. But when second-generation Cypriots are asked to tell their story, some of them react badly, with hostility. 'Why do you stir things up?' seems to be the message. But the author is right to think that traumas have been submerged for too long, and that the third generation are freer and less intimidated than their parents. When Kostas agreed to Defne's request not to burden young Ada with stories of her origin, little did he know that Ada would sooner or later want to know about her past, and her parents' past. Young people today do not stay content with vague ideas about a brighter future. They are irreverent, less constricted in their attitudes and with a curiosity and desire to dig things up that is really heartening and endearing. I have a lot of confidence in this younger generation, and Shafak has too!!
Thank you, netgalley and the publisher for an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
In 2010s London a 16-year old girl, Ada Kazantzakis, who recently lost her mother, is having a hard time adjusting to her new life. Her father is having a hard time too. An ecologist and botanist, Kostas Kazantzakis is more at ease among his plants than with other people or his daughter. And what about the dead mother? We are told small bits here and there, and the only certainty is that she was very much loved by both her husband and her daughter. And the other relatives? The other relatives never set foor in her home and they declined to even be in her funeral. But why?
Told through alternating points of view, that of young Ada, but also a fig tree that speaks in the first person and used to live in Nicosia, Cyprus before a cut was transported to London, the story of two young lovers whose love was strictly forbidden unfolds bit by bit. The reader is taken back to 1974 Cyprus just before the events of ethnic violence and partition that took place on the island. We gradually find out that the love of the two young people was forbidden because one of them was a Greek Cypriot (Kostas) and the other a Turkish Cypriot (Defne). Even before the partition, people were unhappy about communities intermingling in this way, and the young lovers' parents would disapprove. But when violence erupts and people get killed in the streets, their relationship becomes impossible. Will they rise above the circumstances and save their relationship or will they allow the world, including their parents, to tear them apart? We know through young Ada's existence that they stayed together and had a child. But the reality of what happened is much more complex and circuitous than this fact alone attests to. An incident at school that upsets Ada, an aunt that arrives seemingly out of nowhere and a fig tree that has seen much and can say much if only you knew how to ask will be the catalysts for change and growth.
I loved the theme that Elif Shafak chose for this book: the ethnic violence that tore the island apart, the trauma of civil war, the silence that victims of violence endure... Shafak does not accuse or judge, and when a character in the book asks the question 'Who did that, Greeks or Turks?' referring to a gay couple that were brutally murdered, the reply is 'islanders, just like all of us'. A sense of common identity and belonging is fostered in the book. But this common identity is hard, even impossible in the face of so much bloodshed and wounding... Shafak of course is aware of this, and has her main characters stamped by the violence inexorably. Without wanting to reveal what happens to the main characters, suffice it to say that people do not quite rise above the circumstances but carry their wounding with them to the end.
The characters were very vivid and I really cared for them, especially young Ada. I also liked how Shafak intergated issues of global warming and climate change in her narrative: through the fig tree that talks about the arboreal condition and through Kostas' work. The aunt was a striking character proving that healing sometimes comes not through the wise but through the simple. But the plot was so riveting I sometimes found myself rushing through the pages and skipping stuff just to find out what happened to the characters next. The language was lyrical, too lyrical at times. This will certainly delight people with a penchant for lyricism but others, maybe not so much.
For me the biggest achievement of the book is bringing the wounding of the Greek and Turkish Cypriot communities out into the open. This may be a thankless task. One of the characters in the book is heavily involved in finding the missing people in Cyprus, seeking information from local residents and using sophisticated DNA analysis to identify the remains. But when second-generation Cypriots are asked to tell their story, some of them react badly, with hostility. 'Why do you stir things up?' seems to be the message. But the author is right to think that traumas have been submerged for too long, and that the third generation are freer and less intimidated than their parents. When Kostas agreed to Defne's request not to burden young Ada with stories of her origin, little did he know that Ada would sooner or later want to know about her past, and her parents' past. Young people today do not stay content with vague ideas about a brighter future. They are irreverent, less constricted in their attitudes and with a curiosity and desire to dig things up that is really heartening and endearing. I have a lot of confidence in this younger generation, and Shafak has too!!
Thank you, netgalley and the publisher for an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
February 4, 2023
A beautiful novel that was engaging and entertaining. The fact that part of the novel was told from the prospective of the fig tree was so just brilliant as I learned so much about Cyprus and tress in general.
For me characters make a novel and in the case of I loved the characters and most of all the Fig Tree and what it stood for.
The Novel is set in 1974 on the Island of Cyprus where two teenagers on opposite sides of the divide meet at a Tavern. At the centre of the tavern, growing through a cavity in the roof, is a fig tree. This tree will witness their hushed, happy meetings, their silent, surreptitious departures; and the tree will be there when the war breaks out, when the capital is reduced to rubble, when the teenagers vanish and break apart.
I listened to this one on Audible and loved the narration.
A beautiful and heartbreaking story of love and loss and a novel where I learned a little about Cyprus and it’s civil War and a lot about trees.
Highly recommended for those who enjoy historical fiction.
For me characters make a novel and in the case of I loved the characters and most of all the Fig Tree and what it stood for.
The Novel is set in 1974 on the Island of Cyprus where two teenagers on opposite sides of the divide meet at a Tavern. At the centre of the tavern, growing through a cavity in the roof, is a fig tree. This tree will witness their hushed, happy meetings, their silent, surreptitious departures; and the tree will be there when the war breaks out, when the capital is reduced to rubble, when the teenagers vanish and break apart.
I listened to this one on Audible and loved the narration.
A beautiful and heartbreaking story of love and loss and a novel where I learned a little about Cyprus and it’s civil War and a lot about trees.
Highly recommended for those who enjoy historical fiction.
May 20, 2024
I have just finished this book. When I finally unlocked the mystery of the endearing couple Daphne and Kostas, and the fig tree in their garden, I literally ran across the room with tears 😭, wishing I could read this novel the very first time again! I did not expect this impact as I had started reading the novel with a ´meh´. The story had started off a tad bland for my palate. But, the unexpected twists added the necessary spices to raise my undivided curiosity.
The wonderful, atmospheric story told from various POV’s including the anthropomorphic narration from a tree’s perspective that will give you goosebumps as you lift one secret after another. Please don´t judge the tree until you finish reading the novel to understand where it´s coming from. 🙏
As always, meticulously researched, Shafak weaves a story filled with historical, political and even botanical insights.
Shafak writes about friendship, family and reminds us how empty we would be without love and courage.
This novel enriched me in many ways. I wallow in nostalgia about my visits to Turkey and Greece and it has me yearn to see Cyprus as soon as possible.
The wonderful, atmospheric story told from various POV’s including the anthropomorphic narration from a tree’s perspective that will give you goosebumps as you lift one secret after another. Please don´t judge the tree until you finish reading the novel to understand where it´s coming from. 🙏
As always, meticulously researched, Shafak weaves a story filled with historical, political and even botanical insights.
Shafak writes about friendship, family and reminds us how empty we would be without love and courage.
This novel enriched me in many ways. I wallow in nostalgia about my visits to Turkey and Greece and it has me yearn to see Cyprus as soon as possible.
March 23, 2025
The Island of Missing Trees revolves around a couple who met in Cyprus shortly before the 1974 Cypriot civil war.
In a nutshell: Cyprus is an island in the Mediterranean Sea with a long history of being occupied or administered by different countries. In modern times, Cyprus was under the dominion of the British Empire from 1878 to 1960, when the island became independent. At that time, Cyprus was largely populated by Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots, each of whom considered the island to be part of their home country.
To broker peace, the Zurich Agreement of 1960 recognized the equality and autonomy of the Greek and Turkish communities, which would be politically and culturally separate. Nevertheless, continuing conflict led to a 1974 civil war that (essentially) divided the country into 'Turkish Cyprus' in the north and 'Greek Cyprus' in the south.
A romance between a Greek boy and a Turkish girl would be excoriated by both communities, and that's the conflict at the center of this gorgeous novel.
The story rotates among three time periods: 1974; the early 2010s, and the late 2010s.
� 1974: Two teenagers in Nicosia, Cyprus - a Christian Greek boy named Kostas and a Muslim Turkish girl called Defne - are in love.
They can't be seen together, so they meet in the back room of a taverna called The Happy Fig. The popular hangout is run by two men, Greek Cypriot Yiorgos and Turkish Cypriot Yusuf, who are sympathetic to the young couple's plight.
The Happy Fig is an ethnic eatery, described as follows: "The entrance of the tavern was partially covered with twisting vines of honeysuckle. Inside, solid black beams ran the length and breadth of the ceiling, from which hung garlands of garlic, onion, drying herbs, chili peppers and cured sausages. There were twenty-two tables....and a charcoal grill at the back from which the smell of flatbread wafted daily, along with the enticing aromas of cooking meats."
To add to the taverna's ambiance, a Ficus carica (fig tree) sat in the middle of the dining area, growing through a cavity in the roof, and a resident parrot called Chico landed on people's shoulders and tried to snatch their food.
On their first evening at The Happy Fig, Kostas and Defne could afford nothing more than water, but the taverna's owners sent a tray with stuffed vine leaves, shrimp saganaki, chicken souvlaki with tsatziki sauce, moussaka, and pitta bread.
Stuffed Vine Leaves
Shrimp Saganaki
Chicken Souvlaki with Tsatziki Sauce
Moussaka
Pitta Bread
The happy young couple enjoyed every mouthful....and the Ficus watched it all. The fig tree is actually one of the book's narrators, and its long life, ability to converse with birds and insects, powers of observation, and intellect make it uniquely knowledgeable and articulate.
Though Kostas and Defne were only dimly aware of it, there was big trouble on the horizon, spurred by deep divisions between Greeks and Turks, rising unrest, and increasing terrorism.
� Early 2010s: The Committee on Missing Persons (CMP) is digging up sites in Cyprus, looking for the remains of people killed in the 1974 civil war. Thousands of people, both Greeks and Turks, are unaccounted for.....
......and the teams searching for them are composed of archaeologists, anthropologists, historians, geneticists, forensic specialists, and others. The CMP works from information supplied by anonymous informants, and is hoping to reunite the deceased with their families.
A CMP searcher observes, "Sometimes you search for weeks on end and achieve nothing. It's frustrating. Some of the informants misremember the details, others deliberately lead us on wild goose chases. You search for victims, you encounter medieval, Roman, Hellenistic bones. Or prehistoric fossils....Then, just when you think you are going nowhere, you find mass graves." Explaining the need to hurry, the worker goes on, "The older generation is dying, taking their secrets with them to the grave. If we don't dig now, in a decade or so there won't be anyone left to tell us the whereabouts of the missing. It's a race against time, really.'
The CMP workers go on to discuss similar searches in Spain, Argentina, Chile and other countries that experienced internal conflict - and the stories are heart-wrenching.
� Late 2010s: Kostas and his teenage daughter Ada are living in London, mourning the recent death of Defne. Kostas, engulfed by grief over the loss of his wife, throws himself into his work - researching and writing about plants, animals, nature and ecosystems.
Kostas seems most comfortable with his fig tree, grown from a cutting of the fig tree in The Happy Fig taverna. Kostas talks to his fig tree, and the tree talks back....but Kostas can't hear it.
In fact the the fig tree is quite loquacious. For instance, one winter afternoon the tree hears a bird and muses, "Inside the hedge a whitethroat began to sing - swift, scratchy notes. I wondered what a North African warbler was doing in our garden at this time of year. Why hadn't it left for warmer places with all the others that must now be on their way south, and who, if they made a slight change in their flight path, might just as well head towards Cyprus and visit my motherland."
As for Ada, she's overwhelmed by the loss of her mother, feels shut out by her father, and has problems concentrating at school.
Ada experiences an additional emptiness because her parents never talked about Cyprus and she's never met any of her Cypriot relatives. Kostas and Defne wanted Ada to feel English, but the teen feels a pull toward Cyprus, a sort of epigenetic longing.
Nevertheless, when Defne's sister, Aunt Meryem, comes to London for a visit, Ada's first instinct is to be standoffish and distant. In large part, this is because Meryem didn't come to Defne's funeral, and Ada is angry at Meryem and all the other Cypriot relatives.
Like many Cypriot islanders, Meryem is deeply superstitious. On her first night in London, Meryem does a ritual for the dead near Kostas's fig tree, to guide Defne's spirit to safety. The tree, who's seen it all before, muses, "Humans have always sensed there was something uncanny about me and my kind....In Judaism, sitting under a fig tree has long been associated with a deep, devout study of the Torah....The Prophet Mohammed said the fig was the one tree that he wished to see in paradise....It was while meditating under a Ficus religiosa that Buddha attained enlightenment....and King David was fond of us." The Ficus goes on and on like this, explaining how special its kind are. (This is one smart fig tree!! 🙂)
Buddha under a Ficus religiosa
Meryem's visit does give Ada the opportunity to ask questions about Cyprus, and Meryem reveals some surprising truths about Ada's parents and their families. Meryem also likes to cook, and tells Ada, "Food is the heart of a culture. You don't know your ancestors' cuisine, you don't know who you are." Then Meryem goes on to extoll the virtues of Turkish baklava, saying, "Everyone makes baklava, true, but not everyone succeeds. We Turks make it crispy with roasted pistachios. That's the right way. Greeks use raw walnuts - God knows who gave them that idea, it just ruins the taste."
Turkish Baklava
Greek Baklava
In many ways, Kostas is the most sensitive character in the book, with his deep love of nature and his pain at its destruction. Kostas doesn't believe humans have the right to exploit everything in the world, which makes him something of an outlier. For example, one day young Kostas is watching his mother preserving songbirds (a Cypriot delicacy), opening their breasts with her thumbs and stuffing them with salt and spices. A wave of nausea overcomes the boy, and crying, he says, "Don't do that, Mama. I don't want to eat them anymore." Years later, Kostas tries to interfere with songbird poachers, which doesn't work out too well for him.
Songbird Dish
I like historic novels that enlighten me, and this one has bits about Greek customs; Turkish culture; the history of Cyprus; Greek mythology; and much more. The novel is also filled with beautiful word pictures, exemplified by one of the London fig tree's memories of Cyprus: "Of the past we left behind I remember everything. Coastlines etched in the sandy terrain like creases in a palm waiting to be read, the chorus of cicadas against the rising heat, bees buzzing over lavender fields, butterflies stretching their wings at the first promise of light.....many may try, but no one does optimism better than butterflies."
This is a memorable story with an unexpected (and very nifty) ending. Highly recommended.
FYI: At the end of the book, Elif Shafak describes how she researched the book, and includes a bibliography. Shafak also provides a glossary of foreign phrases, such as: abla - older sister (Turkish); ambelopoulia - a dish of grilled, fried, pickled, or boiled songbirds (Greek); kardoula mou - my little heart (Greek); majnun - a crazy person (Arabic); nazar - evil eye (Turkish); and many more.
Nazar (evil eye on necklace.....for good luck)
Thanks to Netgalley, Elif Shafak, and Bloomsbury Publishing for a copy of the book.
You can follow my reviews at
November 2, 2021
’It will have blood: They say blood will have blood. Stones have been known to move and trees to speak…�
-- William Shakespeare, Macbeth
A story of life and death, love and loathing, the seductive power of beauty, the destructive power of cruelty, and the healing nature of love and laughter.
This begins in England, momentarily leaving it to return to the beginning of this story, shared in this brief moment by a Ficus carica, a common fig who shares the indignity of being called ’cdzDz� in any sense, memories of the past, the proud history of its adaptation across the world as they were carried across the globe. The narration of this story is shared by others as the story continues, returning periodically to the viewpoints of this tree who has seen and heard so much throughout its lifetime.
This is the first time I have read this author, and I was completely bewitched by this story, the way she weaves the stories of individuals who only briefly appear, looking deep inside these people for their truths. Their pain that they do not share, and the love that they keep inside, hiding from it, as well. Their joys and their fears.
Ada is at the forefront as this begins in London in 2010, a 16-year-old who has recently lost her mother, Defne. Her father, Kostas, lost in his own sorrow, can’t seem to reach her to help her navigate her grief. Her pain is tangible, and one day while in school, her pain is released in one long, piercing scream that is captured on a classmate’s cell phone, shared online, and goes viral. Now she is humiliated in addition to her pain.
In their garden grows a Ficus carica, it is the only physical connection Ada has to a history she knows little about, to the mother that she has lost, to the island where they met, and their story, which she knows little about. Secrets kept from her, if not intentionally. This tree carries those secrets inside.
Tackling the cultural differences that divided Cyprus in the 1970s, it also shares the story of Kostas and Defne, how they met, and continue to embrace a relationship, one that must remain hidden. They meet secretly at The Happy Fig, a café with a fig tree growing inside, which is also home to Chico, a parrot. It is a love that must remain hidden to their families, their differences that are at the heart of the cultural divide. One a Greek Christian, the other a Turkish Muslim. But love never takes such things into account, love insists on defying boundaries, the very nature of love lies in its belief it is invincible.
Published: 02 Nov 2021
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Bloomsbury USA, Bloomsbury Publishing
June 12, 2024
A tree is a memory keeper. Tangled beneath our roots, hidden inside our trunks, are the sinews of history, the ruins of wars nobody came to win the bones of the missing.�
I wouldn’t have heard of this book, if it weren’t for ŷ friend, Nilguen and her stunning review which you can find here� /review/show...
I had felt the same way she did walking into this novel. I wasn’t sure where it was going. It seemed to meander with lots of different characters and discussions with no real direction. Especially since we weren’t even certain who the narrator was taking us on this journey.
But then it wanted us to know we were in Greece. Cyprus. With two teenagers. 1974. Kostas a Greek boy and Defne a Turkish girl. What they are doing is risking seeing each other. Falling in Love. At a place called The Fig Tree.
But that was a violent time. A violent place. And soon it would be clear that whatever was happening would be disastrous for these two, and their destinies will be changed.
Time moves forward. Time moves backward. The chapters are dated, so readers know what time period they are in. There will be other characters introduced. And, the stories told of what happens to all these characters are shaped through time. The grief, the joys, the horrors, the politics of what happened during those tumultuous years.
And eventually we learn who our narrator is who has been taking us on this journey.
There is something magical and sad and surreal between these pages. A bit of history, and passion, and excellent author research provides for a unique story with a very unusual narrator that takes readers on a very different reading experience.
If you can manage to read your way through that slow beginning, readers might find the magical prose enticing enough to find yourself engaged by what this compelling narrator will bring you through these pages.
“If it’s love you’re after, or love you have lost, come to the fig, always the fig.�
I wouldn’t have heard of this book, if it weren’t for ŷ friend, Nilguen and her stunning review which you can find here� /review/show...
I had felt the same way she did walking into this novel. I wasn’t sure where it was going. It seemed to meander with lots of different characters and discussions with no real direction. Especially since we weren’t even certain who the narrator was taking us on this journey.
But then it wanted us to know we were in Greece. Cyprus. With two teenagers. 1974. Kostas a Greek boy and Defne a Turkish girl. What they are doing is risking seeing each other. Falling in Love. At a place called The Fig Tree.
But that was a violent time. A violent place. And soon it would be clear that whatever was happening would be disastrous for these two, and their destinies will be changed.
Time moves forward. Time moves backward. The chapters are dated, so readers know what time period they are in. There will be other characters introduced. And, the stories told of what happens to all these characters are shaped through time. The grief, the joys, the horrors, the politics of what happened during those tumultuous years.
And eventually we learn who our narrator is who has been taking us on this journey.
There is something magical and sad and surreal between these pages. A bit of history, and passion, and excellent author research provides for a unique story with a very unusual narrator that takes readers on a very different reading experience.
If you can manage to read your way through that slow beginning, readers might find the magical prose enticing enough to find yourself engaged by what this compelling narrator will bring you through these pages.
“If it’s love you’re after, or love you have lost, come to the fig, always the fig.�
December 12, 2022
So much pain and yet there are always things that make life worth living.
October 31, 2022
Guerra, Amor e Poesia
Em 1974, enquanto Portugal andava embrenhado na revolução dos cravos, ocorreu um conflito armado na idílica ilha de Chipre que culminou com a sua cisão em duas regiões demarcadas por uma fronteira monitorizada por tropas da ONU � a zona norte foi ocupada por turcos muçulmanos e a zona sul por gregos cristãos:
“A ilha foi dividida em duas partes � o Norte e o Sul. Uma língua diferente, uma escrita diferente, uma memória diferente prevaleceu em cada uma, e sempre que os ilhéus rezavam, raramente era para o mesmo Deus.�
E� como o Amor é um sentimento rebelde que desconhece diferenças e galga fronteiras, um romance proibido acontece � Kostas, um grego cristão apaixona-se por Defne, uma turca muçulmana �
Numa prosa que rasa a poesia, Elif Shafak desenterra um passado recente e tumultuoso onde se sente a Guerra como um veneno que desenraiza e deprime, gerando marcas indeléveis que passam para as gerações vindouras �
Em 1974, enquanto Portugal andava embrenhado na revolução dos cravos, ocorreu um conflito armado na idílica ilha de Chipre que culminou com a sua cisão em duas regiões demarcadas por uma fronteira monitorizada por tropas da ONU � a zona norte foi ocupada por turcos muçulmanos e a zona sul por gregos cristãos:
“A ilha foi dividida em duas partes � o Norte e o Sul. Uma língua diferente, uma escrita diferente, uma memória diferente prevaleceu em cada uma, e sempre que os ilhéus rezavam, raramente era para o mesmo Deus.�
E� como o Amor é um sentimento rebelde que desconhece diferenças e galga fronteiras, um romance proibido acontece � Kostas, um grego cristão apaixona-se por Defne, uma turca muçulmana �
Numa prosa que rasa a poesia, Elif Shafak desenterra um passado recente e tumultuoso onde se sente a Guerra como um veneno que desenraiza e deprime, gerando marcas indeléveis que passam para as gerações vindouras �
February 17, 2022
A curious spell came over me as I read this book - it isn't short, but at a critical moment of reunion, I blinked and 50 pages had gone by. Memorable characters, big sweeping emotions, lots of pain, and beautifully researched. Lush, lush, lush!
Displaying 1 - 30 of 15,755 reviews
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get help and learn more about the design.