BookBrowse Reviews There Are Rivers in the Sky by Elif Shafak

BookBrowse:

Booker Prize finalist Elif Shafak's mesmerizing novel explores centuries and cultures through the lives of three remarkable characters — and a single drop of water.

Elif Shafak's novel There Are Rivers in the Sky follows three disparate individuals separated by time and location. Arthur Smyth (whose full name is "King Arthur of the Sewers and Slums") is born in the stinking muck along the Thames River in 1840. Narin is a nine-year-old Yazidi girl growing up on the banks of the Tigris River in 2014, shepherded by her grandmother. And thirty-year-old Zaleekah Clarke is a hydrologist living on a houseboat in London in 2018, trying to move beyond her failed marriage. As the characters' lives unfold on the pages of this remarkable book, readers gradually learn how they're tied together, with the last pieces falling into place at the very end of the story.

Shafak begins her tale with a sentient drop of water falling on King Ashurbanipal of Ninevah (reigned 669–631 BCE):

"Dangling from the edge of the storm cloud is a single drop of rain — no bigger than a bean and lighter than a chickpea. For a while it quivers precariously — small, spherical and scared. How frightening it is to observe the earth below opening like a lonely lotus flower. Not that this will be the first time: it has made the journey before — ascending to the sky, descending to terra firma and rising heavenwards again — and yet it still finds the fall terrifying."

This tiny observer appears throughout the novel, present at various times in history (the same drop appears at Arthur's birth, and later makes up one of Zaleekah's tears). Indeed, the variability yet permanence of water is a major theme. "While it is true that the body is mortal," the author writes, "the soul is a perennial traveler — not unlike a drop of water." Later, "Many kings have come and many kings have gone…never forget the only true ruler is water," and, "Women are expected to be like rivers — readjusting, shapeshifting." Shafak's writing is lyrical, bordering on poetic, as she weaves this theme into her narrative.

The author's focus varies between her characters, making the experience of reading about each almost like reading three different books. By far the most detailed and appealing story is Arthur's; it fits squarely in the realm of historical fiction as Shafak takes a deep dive into life for the lower classes in Victorian London. Based on George Smith — a self-taught Assyriologist who was the first to translate the Epic of Gilgamesh into modern language — this remarkable man rises from tosher (someone who scavenges in the sewers) to expert on cuneiform (see Beyond the Book). The section is crammed with tiny details that bring the period to life. For example, Arthur buys eel pies as a treat for his brothers and reads by the light of the moon because his family has no money for lamps or candles.

Narin's role in the story allows the author to portray the Yazidis, a Kurdish religious minority whose beliefs include elements of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Often persecuted throughout history, people from this sect were victims of genocide by the Islamic State from 2014-2017. Yazidi experiences, wisdom, and values are depicted through the character of Narin's grandmother. While this part of the novel is set in more recent times, some of the concepts it contains are ancient.

And finally, Zaleekah epitomizes the struggles of many modern women still trying to establish a place for themselves in the world. She's at a crossroads in her life, wrestling with depression and unable to move forward. Her story might be the least interesting simply because it's so familiar to many of us; she's a typical woman on a voyage of self-discovery. This part of the novel is primarily bildungsroman. Zaleekah's overbearing uncle and a tattoo artist who only works in cuneiform add color.

One of the brilliant aspects of the novel is the author's ability to merge these three completely different storylines into a compelling whole.

I truly enjoyed Shafak's writing, but periodically she itemizes rather than describes:

"Whatever is unwanted is discarded into the river. Spent grain from breweries, pulp from paper mills, offal from slaughterhouses, shavings from tanneries, effluent from distilleries, off-cuts from dye-houses, night-soil from cesspools and discharge from flush toilets…all empty into the Thames, killing the fish, killing the aquatic plants, killing the water."

These lists are unnecessarily exhaustive; they're included with enough frequency that the technique starts to grate. And while I was enthralled by each character's story, I became impatient waiting for the threads to start coming together. The tie-ins are ultimately brilliant but the author takes her time.

Those complaints aside, There Are Rivers in the Sky is a superb work of literary and historical fiction, and I highly recommend it to most audiences. It reminded me very much of Anthony Doerr's excellent novel Cloud Cuckoo Land, and readers who enjoyed that title will likely relish this one equally. It would make an excellent book group selection.

This review was originally published in The BookBrowse Review in September 2024, and has been updated for the December 2024 edition. Click here to go to this issue.