Catherine, an orphan girl, carries the stigma of her social background because she is of mixed race, in an era when society was against her and all the principles she represented. In the midst of her daily struggle, music gives her the freedom to temporarily escape and the possibility of dreaming of a better life. Within a journey ravaged by the vicissitudes of unexpected motherhood and an absent husband, Catherine strives to protect this hard-earned haven and rely on her talent to build a future for her family.
Mahsa is also an orphan girl, who grows up in an atmosphere of loss after her parents die and she is sent to live with her relatives in Pakistan. As part of her struggle to find her freedom, Mahsa flees to Montreal, leaving her first love behind. But in the end, she discovers the impossibility of cutting the threads of her past, and finally finds herself forced to accept an arranged marriage. For Mahsa, music becomes her beautiful solace, allowing her to escape from the oppressive circumstances that surround her.
In light of their struggle between the visible life and the hidden life, the two girls, music lovers, meet...
***
“I can no longer remember the number of times I stood captivated by the details of the events of this poignant novel. Each page depicts hope versus despair, and asks us to struggle to achieve our dreams without which we would be lost. This story, which presents the themes of motherhood and friendship, through its two exceptional heroines, will remain... Engraved in my memory to accompany me for a long time.”
Khaled Hosseini, author of The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns.
After trying my previous book, “In Defense of Insanity,” it occurred to me to do it again. The issue, in brief, is that I select from things that I have previously published in periodicals or introductions to books, what I consider to be valid beyond their time.
This book is not a continuation of the previous book, but rather a continuation of it.
It contains Lee's opinions on art, culture, journalism, women (and some politics). The question that confronted me in my first book confronts me now: What do these articles have in common?
The answer is as naive as I answered earlier: What unites these articles is that I wrote them.
The opinions here are my own, which may mean nothing to some of them, and may not mean anything to others. But it was important to me, myself, to say these opinions, and to record them, and among them was a farewell to figures like Assi Rahbani and Al-Dhahirah Rahbani, and even a farewell to a number of friends who had passed away, and who had passed through my life only briefly. Perhaps some bitterness still exists here as well. Upon reviewing the articles, I discovered that I was insisting once again on the losses that had befallen our lives. These are losses greater than military or political defeats. It is our constant humanitarian bleeding. And the one who gives us life...or makes us mad.
