The author, a Syrian-American who previously published under a different name and has since transitioned to male, embellishes his novel with tinges of magic realism and beautifully rendered descriptions of birds flitting in and out of characters’ lives. Despite a languid pace and a transparent substitution of story lines for plot, The Thirty Names of Night stands out for its lyrical quality, its filmic peek into the early-20th-century Syro-Lebanese communities of Manhattan and Dearborn, Mich., and a contemporary protagonist whose self-abnegation stems from an unrelenting sense of bodily imprisonment.
This novel about a young trans man in New York trying to figure out his place in the world and find his true name did what good fiction is supposed to: It allowed me to enter the interior world of a character different from myself and empathize. And, in the process, it rewrote and deepened my understanding of what it means to be trans. But don’t worry, the novel is not a teaching manual, nor is it any sort of manifesto with an ax to grind. The Thirty Names of Night is a sensitive, multigenerational story about Syrian immigrants ... The novel’s gentleness is amplified by a lack of real bad guys. The Thirty Names of Night is mostly populated by good people ... Maybe because of this lack of a concrete threat, the story of Laila’s life, full of lost love, secrets and hardship, is the more exciting one to read. But the two stories come together beautifully. Joukhadar’s prose is poetic and painterly, mirroring the artistic bent of its narrator, and the book is ultimately a joyful one.
... an intimate, intergenerational saga centered on a trans artist in search of himself, his community and answers to the questions his mother left behind ... This is a story about community, how constructed systems of power work to destroy queer and trans people of color and the immigrant community at the root, as well as resilience, even though it should not be necessary just to survive. How found family is a lifesaving thing, a freeing remaking that allows for the multitudes of shifting truths we can hold ... explores the possibilities of masculinity outside of white cisheteronormativity, that lives inside the contradiction of, when at last presented with another person who shares at least some of his experiences with gender, 'I think to myself, It is terrifying to be visible, and then I think, I have been waiting all my life to be seen.' And that’s what this masterpiece of a book will do for so many readers ... Every single page of this novel is incandescent in its precise, propulsive beauty. Lyric, poetic and deeply wise, The Thirty Names of Night is a radiant work of fiction that feels like an outright act of healing. Joukhadar weaves an intimate story across generations, and he ties them together in a way that’s both viscerally satisfying and openly enchanting. This is a love letter to a queer and trans community, Syrian American immigrants, the act of art and of naming oneself, and our place in the world, among other migratory creatures. Joukhadar gives us unapologetically queer and trans immigrant catharsis in the wake of unimaginable destruction and grief ... Powerful, poignant and deliberately hopeful, its far-reaching impact makes The Thirty Names of Night a modern classic that is sure to dazzle readers for a long time. But I also can’t imagine a book that I needed more this particular year. It is one of my all-time favorite novels.
... Joukhadar’s poetic writing presents a world where the boy finds traces of his mother in everything, whether she appears as an apparition or just a faint whiff of thyme. He clings to her memory as he struggles to come to terms with his identity—and Joukhadar gives us a vivid portrait of what the loss of a loved one can leave behind ... Standing at the crossroads of art, history, queerness, and community, The Thirty Names of Night presents two engrossing narratives whose convergence is astounding and heartbreaking in turn. Joukhadar writes with intricacy and care, and the dual narratives parallel each other in beautiful and unexpected ways in this culturally and linguistically rich novel.
Birds are the major motif in The Thirty Names of Night, so much as to often feel overwhelming ... This premise is strong and promises a bit of a mystery, though his interior experiences are so vivid that they tend to overshadow the plot ... The book’s strongest parts are the protagonist’s experiences of body dysphoria and how he comes to understand himself as trans. These are delivered in a way that is both incredibly specific and lyrically abstract. Author Zeyn Joukhadar excels at writing the emotional, physical and spiritual experiences of a young trans person.
The Thirty Names of Night has multiple themes at play at any given time...sometimes all in one page. It can feel overwhelming but conveys the same sensation Nadir feels. Joukhadar, who is trans himself, doesn't try to pander to the reader's experience but focuses instead on Nadir's gender identity struggle. He links all the moving parts of the story together while highlighting the ignored history of people who are transgender ... At times the connection between Laila's diary and the effects it has on Nadir are not clearly stated ... Joukhadar's beautiful lyricism throughout the novel will be familiar to fans of The Map of Salt and Stars. And despite juggling many themes, The Thirty Names of Night reminds us that the stories of queer people are stories of survival that span generations.
Exceptionally beautiful writing is the hallmark of this well-crafted novel about Syrian immigrants in New York City ... Joukhadar conveys the protagonist’s gender confusion with such a sense of turmoil and angst that the reader can also become a bit confused, but overall this is a brilliant novel.
Nadir and Laila Z’s stories are told in the second person, lending an extra intimacy to Joukhadar’s stunning prose, which is already vivid, visceral, and urgent ... Nadir’s journey probes into both the fleeting nature and permanent influence of art, while also exploring the human body as limitation—because Nadir is misgendered in the first part of the novel, yes, but also because he often longs to escape into something completely other, such as a flower or a bird. Ultimately, both Nadir and Laila Z learn how to make space for themselves in a world that tries to reject them, and that space allows their worlds to open up to even further possibilities. This clarifying and moving tale has far-reaching significance and appeal.
What binds all these disparate strands together are Joukhadar’s deep sympathy for his characters and his powerfully poetic voice ... The author creates a world for his characters in which readers who are perhaps unfamiliar with the communities being represented can find their way around, but he does not feel compelled to translate and explain. And Joukhadar’s prose style—folkloric, lyrical, and emotionally intense—creates its own atmosphere ... Gorgeous and alive.
... evocative ... Quietly lyrical and richly imaginative, Joukhadar’s tale shows how Laila and Nadir live and love and work past the shame in their lives through their art. This is a stirring portrait of an artist as a young man.
