Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of this novel is how it both transformed and expanded the narrow-minded ideas I held of Afghanistan; ideas that were built partially by reading news reports of oppression and violence and partially by pure ignorance. Deborah Rodriguez did nothing less than take a paintbrush, and give the gloomy, flat picture I had in my head several lashings of fresh colour and dimension.
The book features multiple protagonists, some significantly more impactful than others. The same goes for the various plot lines, although they are largely interwoven. The novel is set in Kabul, Afghanistan, against the backdrop of political turmoil, and the recapture of power by the Taliban. Tucked away in a little corner is the café that gives this story life. Opened by Sunny, an American who came to Kabul following love, it plays host to a collective of dynamic and unusual characters. There is Halajan, the owner of the building now called the Kabul Coffee House, a free-spirited woman who can't seem to get unstuck from the past, and her orthodox son who possesses both an open heart and a closed mind.
Also an integral to the story is Candace, who portrays the archetypical wealthy American woman and whose sense of judgment is often blurred by her overpowering desire to help Isabel, a British journalist with a traumatic past and a risky future, both attributed to her greatest virtue and vice: the fact that she uncovers and reports only the most dangerous stories. Another central character is Yazmina, a simple village girl, kidnapped during her pregnancy and left to die on the streets of Kabul, but saved from the repercussions of this cruel twist of fate by Sunny. What follows is a bittersweet ride. There are unexpected twists (both happy and painful), struggle faced by all the characters either internally or externally and most of all; there is acceptance and companionship, the two pillars upon which the coffee shop stands.
The idea behind this book was a beautiful one, and I can say without a doubt that the sheer genius of the idea has come across to the reader through the pages. To write about a warzone, to humanise it for one's readers, give it life and an identity beyond bloodshed is a feat that deserves more appreciation than I could ever articulate into sentences.
Moving on to the actual story: the characters have evidently been well thought out, but some seem to be watered down versions of the people they could have been. There's so much more power, energy and zeal that could have been channeled into the female protagonists. Sunny, Isabel and Candace are absolute breaths of fresh air in terms of being female leads without being damsels in distress, but there's so much more that could have been; they are flames that could have easily been wildfires. However, the two Afghan women who feature in the book, Halajan and Yazmina, are absolute powerhouses who command the novel with their unexpected strength and spirit.
Although my overall verdict for this novel is positive, I couldn't help but feeling at certain points that I was reading a weakly scripted feminist soap opera. Even though I'm a sucker for romantic endings and cutesy plot twists, I found the general tone a little too saccharine and cloying at times. This novel is a cup of coffee with just a tad too many sugar cubes, nevertheless, it's worth a sip.
• Buy this book at the Guardian Bookshop.
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