Saints and misfits

Select an Action

Title:

Saints and misfits

Personal Author:

Ali, S. K. author.

ISBN:

9781481499248

9781481499255

Edition:

First edition.

Physical Description:

pages cm

Abstract:

Fifteen-year-old Janna Yusuf, a Flannery O'Connor-obsessed book nerd and the daughter of the only divorced mother at their mosque, tries to make sense of the events that follow when her best friend's cousin--a holy star in the Muslim community--attempts to assault her at the end of sophomore year.

Subject Term:

Muslims -- United States -- Fiction.

Identity -- Fiction.

Divorce -- Fiction.

Sexual abuse -- Fiction.

JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Adolescence.

JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / Sexual Abuse.

Electronic Access:

Language:

English

Available:*

Library	Material Type	Shelf Number	Location
Searching... Central Library	Juvenile Book	YAF ALI	Searching... Unknown

Bound With These Titles

On Order

Summary

A William C. Morris Award Finalist
An Entertainment Weekly Best YA Book of 2017

Saints and Misfits is a "timely and authentic" ( School Library Journal , starred review) debut novel that feels like a modern day My So-Called Life ...starring a Muslim teen.

There are three kinds of people in my world:

1. Saints, those special people moving the world forward. Sometimes you glaze over them. Or, at least, I do. They're in your face so much, you can't see them, like how you can't see your nose.

2. Misfits, people who don't belong. Like me--the way I don't fit into Dad's brand-new family or in the leftover one composed of Mom and my older brother, Mama's-Boy-Muhammad.

Also, there's Jeremy and me. Misfits. Because although, alliteratively speaking, Janna and Jeremy sound good together, we don't go together. Same planet, different worlds.

But sometimes worlds collide and beautiful things happen, right?

3. Monsters. Well, monsters wearing saint masks, like in Flannery O'Connor's stories.

Like the monster at my mosque.

People think he's holy, untouchable, but nobody has seen under the mask.

Except me.

Author Notes

S. K. Ali is the author of Saints and Misfits , a finalist for the American Library Association's 2018 William C. Morris Award and the winner of the APALA Honor Award and Middle East Book Honor Award; and Love from A to Z , a Today show Read with Jenna Book Club selection. Both novels were named best YA books of the year by various media including Entertainment Weekly and Kirkus Reviews . She is also the author of Misfit in Love and Love from Mecca to Medina . You can find Sajidah online at SKAliBooks.com and follow her on Instagram @SKAliBooks, TikTok @SKAliBooks, and on Twitter @SajidahWrites.

Reviews (3)

School Library Journal Review

Gr 9 Up-Life has settled since Janna's parents' divorce, but several new obstacles are making things difficult. Her brother, Muhammad, is moving back home as he changes majors and pursues marriage, while Janna silently battles against a respected boy at her mosque who attempted to rape her. To cope, Janna has separated people into categories. Farooq is a monster, but there are also saints, like Muhammad's fiancée. And then there are misfits, like Janna. This categorization isn't expressed overtly other than through chapter headings and occasional references, but it allows readers to see the world as Janna views it. Yet where there is darkness, there is also light: Janna has a lovely relationship with an elderly gentleman she cares for weekly, loves Flannery O'Connor, is a focused student, and has a crush on a boy, though he's non-Muslim. Ali's writing is balanced between Janna's inner dialogue and what transpires around her. The structured delivery magnifies the teen's rich voice in a character-driven novel about identity, highlighting her faith and typical teenage stress. Readers can empathize with Janna's problems, and the pages will turn quickly. Each secondary character adds depth to the narrative and simultaneously strengthens the diverse portrait that the Toronto-based author shares. VERDICT This timely and authentic portrayal is an indisputable purchase in the realistic fiction category.-Alicia Abdul, Albany High School Library, NY © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Publisher's Weekly Review

Sophomore Janna Yusuf is caught between her Muslim faith and the parts of her life that clash with it: her nonpracticing father; her crush Jeremy, who isn't Muslim; and the pious boy from her mosque who attempts to sexually assault her during a party. This push and pull gives readers unfamiliar with Islam a deep understanding of Muslim practices and women who wear the hijab without limiting the scope of the story. Instead, debut novelist Ali taps into universal thoughts and situations, including the feelings of not fitting in, oppressive social stigmas, and the difficulty of truly connecting with and trusting others. Everything is perceived and digested through Janna's lens as she questions a world that she finds is mostly gray areas: a photo project serves as an ironic twist for a girl pretending she wasn't assaulted, a woman she thinks is a saint turns out to be a typically flawed human, and her relationship with an elderly Indian man exposes her own shortcomings. It's a sympathetic and thoughtful study of a girl's attempt to find her place in a complicated world. Ages 14-up. Agent: John M. Cusick, Folio Literary Management. (June) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

Booklist Review

*Starred Review* Janna, an Arab American hijabi teen living with her mom and brother, is in the midst of several dilemmas. First, her brother's courting the impossibly perky, perfectly pious Saint Sarah, a study circle leader at their mosque. Next, Janna's crushing on non-Muslim Jeremy, which is definitely haram. Her biggest problem, though, is the Monster, who's revered by everyone at their mosque for his exemplary faith. But they don't know he sexually assaulted Janna, and now he's spreading cruel rumors about her. Janna's not sure who or whether she can tell, but as she starts relying on unlikely friends, she finds the strength to stand up for herself. Ali's debut offers a much-needed, important perspective in Janna, whose Muslim faith is pivotal but far from the only part of her multifaceted identity. Thanks to her sharp, wry first-person narrative, readers will gain deep insight into her anxieties, choices, and aspirations. For readers unfamiliar with Muslim traditions, Ali offers plenty of context clues and explanations, though she always keeps the story solidly on Janna's struggle to maintain friendships, nurse a crush, deal with bullies and predatory people in her life, and discover her own strength in the process. A wide variety of readers will find solidarity with Janna, and not just ones who wear a hijab.--Hunter, Sarah Copyright 2010 Booklist

Excerpts

Saints and Misfits MISFIT I'm in the water. Only my eyes are visible, and I blow bubbles to ensure the rest of me stays submerged until the opportune time. Besides the lifeguard watching from his perch, there's a gaggle of girls my age patrolling the beach with younger siblings in tow. They pace in their flip-flops and bikinis, and I wait. The ideal time is when no one's around and no one's looking. But right now there's a little girl cross-legged on wooden bleachers peering at me from beneath a hand held aloft at her forehead, a smile on her face. I can't tell if the smile is a result of how long she's been watching me bob here in the water. To check whether she's staring, I test her with a long gaze to the left of the bleachers, where Dad and his wife Linda are barbecuing. Their oldest son, Logan, round and berry-brown from a day in the sun, is digging a hole nearby, while the newest addition, Luke, lies on a quilt wearing a swim diaper. Dad said I'd love it here because the beachfront cottage they'd rented was one of the only two Cherie and Ed had let out this weekend. Secluded. Serene. Safe. Ha. Cherie and Ed forgot to mention that the beach portion doesn't actually belong to them and is public property at all hours of the day. Party central. I look back, and, hallelujah, the girl on the bleachers is gone. There's also a lull on the shore now. The lifeguard's turned to talk to someone behind him, and the beach girls are on the far right, peering at a sand castle. I stand and cringe at the sucking sound as my swimsuit sticks to me, all four yards of the spandex-Lycra blend of it. Waterfalls gush out of the many hems on the outfit, and, as I hobble out of the lake, more secret pockets release their water. I'm a drippy, squelchy mess, stumbling toward Dad and Linda, picking up tons of sand as I move. I refuse to look around in case I see someone, everyone, watching me. Maybe my face reveals something, because Dad starts right away. "Janna, why do you have to wear that thing? You could have said, No, I'm not wearing your burkini, Mom." He waves around long tongs as he speaks. "Mom didn't get it for me. I ordered it online." "I saw her hand it to you as we were packing the car." "Because I'd left it on the hall table, Dad." "It's her kind of thing. What's wrong with the way Linda's dressed?" He snaps the tongs at Linda. She's wearing a one-piece, just-had-a-baby, flouncy-at-the-hips number, and, really, I'd rather be in my burkini. It's black and sleek. Sure, when it gets wet, you kind of resemble a droopy sea lion, but at least it isn't pink and lime green like Linda's swimsuit is. "Linda, you look great." I smile at her, and she smooths out her flounces. "Too bad you're not her size--she could have lent you one of her suits, right, Linda?" "Dad, I won't wear it. I'm a hijabi, remember?" I take a plate and add a piece of chicken from the platter. "At the beach? Even at the beach?" Dad's gesticulating again and looking around--for what, I don't know. When he spies a woman unfolding a lounge chair nearby and starts talking louder, I realize it's for an audience. He wants an audience while he rants at me. Maybe I should've listened to Mom and not come. My first vacation with Dad's family since my parents split when I was eleven and it's like I'm a visitor among the earthlings frolicking on a beach in Florida. Before this, I'd only spent the odd weekend here and there with Dad at his house in Chicago. I was "Daddy's princess" back then. The woman in the chair listens intently as Dad lectures. Linda's got a hand on his arm, and it's traveling up to his shoulder with a firmer grip, but he's still talking. "How come you have to hide your God-given body?" He turns a few burgers over. He's wearing a white T-shirt and red shorts over his God-given body. "It's not me who forces her to dress like that, that's for sure." The woman looks at me, then at Dad and opens a book. Linda places a hand on my glistening black back and hands me a can of pop. "I'll get you a burger when they're done," she whispers. I move to sit on the bleachers before I realize the beach girls are sauntering this way again. I'm a swirl of sand art against a black canvas. I duck under the wooden slats of the seats. Cradling my plate on crossed legs, I flip back the swim cap that's attached to my suit and undo my hair. Sand trickles down with the beads of water. Some of it falls onto my chicken. Flannery O'Connor, my favorite author: That's who I need right now. Flannery would take me away from here and deposit me into her fictitious world crawling with self-righteous saints and larger-than-life misfits. And I'd feel okay there because Flannery took care of things. Justice got served. I forgot to pack her gigantic book of short stories because everything was last minute. I'd wanted to escape so badly that when Dad mentioned this trip with his family, I'd asked, "Can I come?" without thinking. Mom had tried to put her foot down about taking a vacation right before exams, but, luckily for me, my brother Muhammad is home for the summer from college. He talked her into letting me come. She listens to practically everything he says. If it had been only me telling her I needed to get away, far away from Eastspring, she would've talked over me. She didn't know I had to get away from a monster. And the truth is no one can know. Excerpted from Saints, Misfits, Monsters, and Mayhem by S. K. Ali All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.