Here is part of her review:

Elias Khoury糖心传媒檚 As Though She Were Sleeping (Archipelago, 2012) is a love story, a family tragedy, and a journey through Levantine cultural history. Considering the radical stance of Khoury糖心传媒檚 other works – notably, Gate of the Sun, the first 糖心传媒渕agnum opus糖心传媒� of the Palestinian people – this novel is a more conservative project. The year is 1946. Milia, an apolitical Beiruti dreamer, leads a 糖心传媒渄ouble life糖心传媒�: by inhabiting her dreams as fully as her waking life, she can speak with the dead and prophesy the future. Mansour, her wayward Palestinian husband, flees the harsh reality of his country by burying himself in sensual pleasures: ancient poetry, Milia糖心传媒檚 beauty, and Levantine cuisine. As political turmoil in the region escalates, Milia finds herself increasingly trapped by impending catastrophe and fears for her newly-conceived child. To cope, she turns to the dream world for insight, trekking backward and forward in time to converse with deceased family members and saints.

As Khoury explores Milia糖心传媒檚 life and dreams, he points to the many paradoxes of living in the 糖心传媒渉oly land.糖心传媒� After all, this is the same soil where Cain murdered Abel. Its inhabitants inherit not just a rich cultural tradition, but also a dark and complicated legacy of madness. Mansour discovers that 糖心传媒�. . . he had begun to loathe this land in which he lived. Can anyone truly live in a country saturated with legends and miracles and prophets? This is a country that drives anyone who lives here insane, he would think糖心传媒� (241). And Milia becomes increasingly obsessed with the fantastic tradition of fathers killing sons. Abraham planned to slaughter Isaac; God sacrificed Jesus; Milia糖心传媒檚 grandfather Salim nearly murdered his only son with a thrown rock. Will Milia糖心传媒檚 son be next?

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As Khoury explores Milia糖心传媒檚 life and dreams, he points to the many paradoxes of living in the 糖心传媒渉oly land.糖心传媒� After all, this is the same soil where Cain murdered Abel. Its inhabitants inherit not just a rich cultural tradition, but also a dark and complicated legacy of madness. Mansour discovers that 糖心传媒�. . . he had begun to loathe this land in which he lived. Can anyone truly live in a country saturated with legends and miracles and prophets? This is a country that drives anyone who lives here insane, he would think糖心传媒� (241). And Milia becomes increasingly obsessed with the fantastic tradition of fathers killing sons. Abraham planned to slaughter Isaac; God sacrificed Jesus; Milia糖心传媒檚 grandfather Salim nearly murdered his only son with a thrown rock. Will Milia糖心传媒檚 son be next?

Khoury definitely sounds notes of sincere frustration, bitterness, and disenchantment in this novel. However, that doesn糖心传媒檛 stop him from luxuriating in the depictions of the region糖心传媒檚 poetry, dress, and cookery. He describes kibbeh arnabiyyeh, a Levantine specialty, in rich detail: 糖心传媒淥ne needed serious training to appreciate [the dish] fully. Tahini was cooked with seven different citrus fruits, onions were cut to resemble wings, the chick peas all but melted in the tahini mixture with its swirling colors from pale to brown. . . 糖心传媒� (118). This tonal ambiguity allows readers to experience at the linguistic level the same mental dilemma that Mansour, Milia, and many Levant-dwellers experience every day. Theirs is a land steeped in sanctity, but also in violence; a region consecrated by divine power, but defiled by human madness; in short, a land both loved and feared.

Before long, this same madness invades Mansour and Milia糖心传媒檚 once-happy marriage. (Toward the beginning, it糖心传媒檚 clear that Khoury is a true romantic: 糖心传媒淏ut look at me – I love you without knowing you. I feel you, who you are, from inside, and that糖心传媒檚 enough,糖心传媒� (24) Mansour waxes, wooing Milia.) But when his brother Amin is murdered in a border skirmish, Mansour insists on returning to Jaffa to take over the family business. Milia intuitively objects, sensing her child will be born into a maelstrom of bloodshed: 糖心传媒淢ilia糖心传媒檚 nights now filled with oranges that looked like bombs,糖心传媒� Khoury tells us. 糖心传媒�- the color red everywhere, covering faces and objects糖心传媒� (223).

Ostensibly apolitical, Milia doesn糖心传媒檛 have the power of rational logic on her side. 糖心传媒�Tayyib, tayyib,糖心传媒� Mansour chides, dismissing dreams as fickle excuses that give her 糖心传媒渢he freedom to interpret matters however she liked糖心传媒� (80). True, Milia lives her life 糖心传媒渁s though she were sleeping,糖心传媒� but isn糖心传媒檛 it the prerogative of the dreamer to interpret the dream? And Milia undeniably discerns the truth through her visions, correctly predicting her Aunt Salma糖心传媒檚 death and her ex-lover Najib糖心传媒檚 infidelity.

Throughout the book Khoury treats narratives with extreme suspicion. By sympathizing with dreamers like Milia, he cautions against dominant, rational interpretations of reality. This becomes especially clear when Khoury re-narrates sections of the Bible, provocatively throwing its authoritative status into question. At one point Khoury even goes so far as to implicate a comparison between Milia and Christ:

糖心传媒淸Milia] wanted to say, None of this has anything to do with me. . . Lord, how different people become mixed inside me. I don糖心传媒檛 know who I am anymore.

He was like that, too, said Tanyous the monk. As he went to the cross he did not feel that he was himself. He felt everyone becoming a part of him. He tried to keep his memories apart but he saw everything together. He became mother and father, the Sitt and the Sayyid, Lady and Lord and lamb. Because he was everything he could say nothing. If he could have talked, what would he have said? And if he did have things to say, who would have understood him? And if he found someone who did understand, who would believe?糖心传媒� (305).

Though far-fetched, the comparison is moving: what if prophets really did live this way, in a perpetual state of self-doubt that Biblical authors conveniently edited out? Milia certainly has much in common with the version of Jesus that Khoury imagines: like him, she frequently feels that she 糖心传媒渃an say nothing,糖心传媒� struggling to translate her dreams into language. To her, words are like 糖心传媒渨raps that hid things. . . As if the bodies of the words veiled the meanings糖心传媒� (111). Through Milia糖心传媒檚 struggle, Khoury implicates an ironic, frustrating linguistic paradox. Though words possess great potential to express beauty and meaning, they can also be used equally well to lie, inhibiting the truth instead of freeing it. In Milia糖心传媒檚 experience, language is cloying, artificial, and useless. She knows calamity is coming, but what can she do? Putting her dreams into words seems to trap them and obscure their true meaning. And if she could tell about them, who would believe her?

In a nightmare come true, the book closes with a cathartic extended dream-sequence. Milia graphically envisions a dark future ahead: 糖心传媒�. . . the smell of blood. Blood in the streets. Mansour stands before his workshop, which lies in ruins, the machinery soaked in blood and wet with severed limbs糖心传媒� (366). This is just one example of the hundreds of eerie dream-spectacles crowding the novel糖心传媒檚 pages. Clearly, something is haunting this book – whether it糖心传媒檚 the imminent 1948 Nakba, the general tragedy of the Levant, or the death of smaller stories in the face of predominating interpretations.

Fascinating, chimerical, and complex, Khoury糖心传媒檚 As Though She Were Sleeping is a hymn to the Levant and its war-ravaged people. By re-envisioning Biblical events and testifying to the truth of dreams, Khoury questions the power of authoritative, 糖心传媒榬ational糖心传媒� versions of events. His is an ode not just to Mansour and Milia, but to all people whose lives have been forgotten, and to all the small stories obliterated from history by larger, ruling narratives.