Susanna, George, and their eight-year-old daughter, Dina, have been lucky, so far, in these four years since war broke out in their country. Even as their fellow "minority-sect" neighbors and classmates are murdered or imprisoned, George’s loyal work teaching "dominant-sect" literature has kept them fed and protected. But then the day comes: the university fires George—despite his years of collaboration, he is no longer safe. Left without money or allies, it is time for the family to run. Embarking on a harrowing trip through refugee camps and across the sea, both George and Susanna are forced in their own ways to make sacrifices to keep Dina safe, while Dina fights to understand the chaotic world crashing down around her. But with each member of the family struggling to survive in circumstances beyond their control, lies and betrayals multiply until it seems impossible for any of them to reach across the abyss.
Careful to be nuanced and ethically complex, to avoid the well-worn tropes of victimhood and challenge readers’ perceptions of refugees. With his characters, Fishman achieves these goals ... But his unoriginal storytelling undermines the novel’s moral complication. Fishman too often hews to common narrative beats ... He also foreshadows too heavily ... Aggressively noticeable prose is often an attempt to distract readers from an issue elsewhere in the text, which may be the case here. But the novel’s central problem stems from a deliberate constraint: Fishman’s choice not to tell readers who his characters are ... All of this is highly frustrating, especially from a writer as talented as Fishman. His intentions in The Unwanted are plainly good; they are, perhaps, the novel’s best quality. In fiction, that’s far from enough.
Fishman effectively captures the fear, malaise, and desperation that comes with others’ control of our movements, but it’s particularity a drag on the storytelling. An informed, earnest, and at times labored tale of escape.