The Dissenters is not a novel of exile: It is an Egyptian novel in English.
There is a loneliness, that voice of the outsider, of the creative kid, of the misfit, of the writer, that haunts every joke, every line etched to make the reader laugh.
This novel is a miraculous feat: a novel that denounces injustice, advocates for the elderly and the ill, and clearly advocates for access to abortion, without giving up style or literary verve.
This is an experiment in explaining what it means to inhabit a body, a mother’s body, a baby’s body in this world and in other worlds.