A little under a year ago I read Huma Qureshi’s short story collection Things We Do Not Tell the People We Love, enjoying it so much I jumped at the chance to review her first novel. Many of Qureshi’s stories explore family and relationship dynamics, a perennially interesting theme for me, as does Playing Games which follows Mira and Hanna, sisters two years apart, who lost their mother just as they were beginning to find their places in the world.
This is the way they are with each other; it’s a dance they do. They love each other, annoy one another until they hate each other and then feel bad about it and so they pretend like nothing ever happened, start again, and love each other all over.
Hana is the eldest, a successful divorce lawyer, perfectionist and controlling, whose marriage to the easy-going Samir is often scratchy, quarrels swept under the carpet unaddressed. Mira dropped out of her degree when their mother died a decade ago, now working in a coffee shop watching the clock tick down to the deadline for a prestigious playwriting prize she hopes to enter. She’s stalled: her idea failing to take shape despite the encouragement of her teacher. Hana is the lynchpin of Mira’s life, providing a place to stay over when needed and groceries to take home but unable to talk to her sister about their mother and her loss, making sure to keep her protective carapace intact. Nothing deflects Hana from her life plan until her assumption that Samir shares her determination to have children is challenged provoking a crisis. When Mira overhears an exchange between the couple she shouldn’t, an idea for her play is sparked. A year later things look very different for both Hana and Mira.
It’s never occurred to Mira before, how interesting it is to observe her sibling as a writer would, to notice her quirks as character details.
Qureshi shifts her narrative smoothly between the two siblings, Mira’s precarious way of life contrasting with her sister’s tight control. Hana’s inability to acknowledge grief, burying of emotions and determination to keep control of everything, impossible as that is, are heartrending at times a counterpoint to Mira’s blossoming confidence. Alongside their relationship, Qureshi perceptively explores mismatched expectations in a marriage where communication is next to non-existent. Her theme of writers’ use of family and friends in their fiction prompted me to wonder how much she might have done this herself, although she’s careful to point out in her acknowledgements Mira and Hana bear no resemblance to her own siblings. I enjoyed Qureshi’s novel although not quite as much as her short story collection which missed my books of 2022 by a squeak.
Sceptre Books: London 9781529368741 320 pages Hardback (read via NetGalley)
This looks thoroughly interesting, with correspondences in my own wider family. I’ll look out for this.
She’s very perceptive about the fallout from losing a parent when young.
Two of my grandchildren know a lot about that.
I’m so very sorry to hear that. An awful grief for the whole family to bear. I was a few years younger than the playwright character when I lost my mother which is why this one resonated with me. I should also say that, ultimately, this is a hopeful novel.
I now see why this novel struck a chord with you. It’s one I now want to read too. I can see why the loss of a close family member at a young age something that never leaves you
Inevitable, I’m afraid – I still hate Mothers Day. It’s something that has to be borne, somehow. I’m sure you’re helping your grandchildren to do that.
I do like the sound of this, but I wouldn’t have picked it up based on that cover.
Me, neither. If it hadn’t been for loving her short stories I wouldn’t have given it a second glance.
The dynamics between the sisters and the focus on communication or lack of are both interesting. It’s odd how so many human problems boil down to the latter and yet we still do the same over and over.
Couldn’t agree more. I’m sure we all have examples of it in our own lives.
This does sound really well done. I agree with you and Cathy though – odd choice of cover.
I’m not sure who the publisher’s aiming at with that cover but it doesn’t fit the novel well.
This sounds like an excellent story of loss and the complexity of a sibling relationship. I can’t say I like the cover much, a minor thing, but it doesn’t seem to match the mood of the novel.
It really doesn’t which is such a shame as it’s well worth reading.