Ratings64
Average rating4.1
The book is a mixture of (so much) heady young love and education about modern racism, specifically against Muslims in post-9/11 USA. It also has abruptly funny moments, a thorough examination of autonomy in relation to Islamic dress, and compelling secondary characters, most notably Shirin's brother Navid.
Shirin's experiences as a hijabi in the wake of 9/11 limit what she thinks is in the realm of possibility for her. People are horrible to her. She is targeted daily by peers, teachers, strangers. As a result, she is guarded and exhausted. Daily aspects of American teenage life—extracurriculars, high school dances, first relationships, even friendships—feel out of reach and risky.
Mafi validates Shirin's apprehension about opening herself up emotionally by showing the response to her and Ocean's closeness. The point made is: lived experiences are valuable. Shirin understands how Islamophobia works. Her existence has made her an authority on the matter. Concerns that seem hyperbolic or incomprehensible to someone like Ocean are warranted. She knows what she's talking about.
Despite all indications that Shirin's guardedness is reasonable, A Very Large Expanse of Sea also contends that Shirin gets to be a human no matter (more to the point, because of) how many people are determined to dehumanize her. She gets to be creative and careless and laugh and kiss and breakdance and have a good time with people who care about her. Jacobi explains this pointedly at the end of a chapter.
Like a lot of YA, this was pretty heavy on the dizzy teen romance for me. Often it felt like it was swallowing the plot. They were awful at communicating. There are more compelling takeaways about how racism festers and escalates, and the courage it takes to allow people the chance to prove you wrong.