These Impossible Things

“It’s also getting increasingly difficult to find the right version of herself to bring home.”

Kees discusses the difficulty of presenting herself in a way that her family will accept. These “versions” of herself cause her considerable anxiety in the text, ultimately making her feel distant from her faith. The novel does not provide an easy answer for this tension, as Kees’s family does react in anger when she reveals her relationship to Harry.

“In the moments between her father’s aspirations, her mother’s holding, and the teasing of siblings, Kees wonders how a person is expected to choose between family and love. As if the two things were mutually exclusive.”

The tension between family and romantic love for British Muslims, whose family expectations push them to marry within their faith, is a recurring tension in the novel. Kees’s observation about how “love” is not exclusive to romantic love makes this tension more palpable within the cultural narrative of romantic love as the primary affective attachment that one should have; Kees loves her family, too, and that love is important to her.

“To be brokenhearted also means you become a selfish thing.”

In the wake of her breakup with Jacob, Malak struggles with self-recrimination about feeling “selfish,” as she cannot shake the misery that follows her. This worry over selfishness both illustrates Malak’s community-centric ideals, particularly at the beginning of the novel, and alludes to her defining struggle of balancing her desires with those of her community.

“Having orgasms and not being able to tell your girlfriends made the orgasms less enjoyable. A lot of things had become less enjoyable.”

Though Jenna’s comment about sexual pleasure is flippant here, her underlying comment about the value of being able to tell one’s female friends about one’s experiences is a significant issue in the novel. Ultimately, particularly given Malak’s experience with intimate partner violence and Jenna’s rape, this ability to share with trusted women is not presented as merely a matter of pleasure in the text, but rather one of safety, too.

“‘You’re a daughter of the desert, hayati,’ he says. ‘Egypt will always call you home.’”

Malak’s father’s comment about her birthplace references Malak’s actual country of origin, as she was born in Egypt before immigrating to England. However, given the other expats Malak meets in Cairo, who are often of Egyptian descent but born elsewhere, this comment takes on a larger resonance about seeking one’s history, particularly in a country where one is a racial and religious majority rather than minority.

“‘Oh please,’ interrupted Jenna. ‘It’s all the same God. If he’s forgiving Catholics, he’s definitely forgiving Muslims.’”

Jenna’s comment illustrates the novel’s attention to The Similarities Between Islam and Christianity, which is addressed particularly through Kees and Harry’s relationship. The novel supports Jenna’s suggestion that these theologies are similar, emphasizing that the differences between them are more cultural than ideological as pertains to thoughts about God.

“As Jacob peels off her sweater and unties her sweatpants, she feels him saying, you are loved. Have been loved. Will continue to be loved. And it makes her cry harder while reaching out her own hands to pull him into her in a way that says, I love you too, and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop, and I’m sorry that it’s not enough to stay.”

The three friends’ relationship with premarital sex is fraught in the book, as it is something that is socially accepted in England at large but taboo within their families and religious communities. Here, Malak experiences sex as something that reiterates love, yet it is still not “enough” to overcome her desire to meet the expectations of her community.

“[Jenna and Lewis have] always been full of the quick happiness that comes from people who believe they deserve it.”

This explanation of Jenna’s happiness as related to her feelings of self-worth provide a guideline for understanding her later misery after she is raped. Jenna does not explicitly say that she feels she does not deserve happiness after the assault, instead focusing on her fear of how others will see her. However, this paradigm for understanding her happiness indicates how her self-image is damaged by her experience.

“[Kees] shakes her head quickly and thinks that rich white people are, in fact, crazy and all her previous assumptions about them are true. She deliberately avoids acknowledging to herself that she is in love with a rich white man.”

The novel largely asserts that cultural differences are not sufficient reason to separate characters from the people they love. However, Kees’s mental quip here illustrates how the novel nevertheless pokes fun at white, Christian hegemonic culture in England. Kees is in love with Harry despite this, illustrating how her personal affection for him trumps their cultural differences.

“It never fails to amaze her that the real C-word for white people is culture and once it’s mentioned people compete to show their respect for it or their knowledge of it. She knew the effect it would have before she used it, and had she been feeling kinder or if she’d had more grace today, she probably wouldn’t have.”

Kees’s observation about her in-laws shows her adeptness at navigating English culture as a racial and religious minority. While she frames using this knowledge as an unkindness, doing so overrides the logic that she has been forced to learn and implicitly understand hegemonic culture, while her white, Catholic in-laws do not have an analogous understanding of her culture or community.

“Here she has found herself suddenly with money. Not rich, but rich enough to not check the price tags when she buys new outfits. She has an apartment that is beautiful and pays a sum every month that is laughable in London. A car she pays a monthly rental on. Bills that are so comparatively small that she barely notices them. Just hands over the two hundred Egyptian pounds that convert to pennies in English pounds and doesn’t think about it ever again.”

Malak’s comparative wealth in Egypt causes her to see the country in an idealized way. Later, she will learn that her experience is a privileged one that shows how England offers greater economic opportunity—but Malak’s initial time in Cairo does not include such nuance. Instead, she sees Egypt as offering her a unilaterally better life than the one she had in England.

“‘Don’t look at me like that,’ [Addy] says. ‘I know it sounds awful but I’m honestly glad [my parents died] because having to look my mum in the eye and tell her I liked boys and also was secretly dressing up in her saris would, honest to God, have killed her and I’m just glad I wasn’t responsible for putting her in her grave.’”

Addy’s comment shows the intensity of certain cultural prohibitions in many Muslim families. Even though his tone is humorous when he says he is glad his parents died before learning of his sexuality, he is not joking about how painful his coming out might have been to both him and his parents. Addy’s position as a gay Muslim man makes him sympathetic to Kees’s predicament—he understands her anxiety as she navigates her love life with Harry while trying to salvage her relationship with her Muslim family.

“But just because we have [privilege], it doesn’t mean we’re immune to any other feeling. We still get to be sad and miserable about things and wanting to build a life with someone who keeps you hidden is brutal. And we can’t say anything to you guys because it’s harder for you, but it’s heartbreaking, actually.”

Jacob’s comment to Kees shows the limitations of Kees’s focus on the privilege that her rich, white boyfriend has in English society. She learns here to think beyond that paradigm and think about Harry’s specific feelings in their relationship and to acknowledge these feelings as valid. The novel supports this emphasis on looking at the personal consequences of cultural difference, rather than making broad generalizations.

“She doesn’t want Lewis, but she is acutely aware that she has subtly been moved to the outer circle, and feels a longing to return home.”

Jenna gets jealous when her close friend Lewis starts seeing another girl. While Jenna has multiple sexual partners, this situation illustrates the lure of monogamous romance while hinting at the limitations of a society that privileges such romances over friendship. To be in a monogamous romance, her thought suggests, is to be someone’s “inner circle,” and thus be provided with a secure sense of belonging. The novel does not entirely support this notion, suggesting rather that such a circle can (and should) consist not only of romantic partners but of close friends, too.

“‘Sorry, I just couldn’t stop; you’re irresistible.’ He laughs then and throws the tissue box onto her stomach and with a wide grin that makes her think of the devil says, ‘I assume a girl like you is on the pill?’”

Mark, Jenna’s rapist, has a cavalier attitude after he assaults her. This creates a sense of horror in the contrast between his understanding of the assault and Jenna’s experience. His comment that a “girl like” Jenna would be “on the pill” shows that he assumes that Jenna is promiscuous and that, therefore, consent is not important. This scene highlights that sexism contributes to sexual violence and shows that many offenders may not even consider their actions criminal or transgressive.

“The English language isn’t built for sweetness the way Arabic is, and as the compliment rests on [Mo’s] lips, her mother looks to her father for the translation and her father beams with happiness.”

This excerpt describes Mo’s first meeting with Jenna’s parents. It illustrates the novel’s attention to the idea that while cultural differences may not be the singular issue when choosing one’s partner, they do nevertheless exist in a significant way. Here, Mo compliments Jenna’s mother in Arabic, and the novel notes the language’s greater capacity for kindness and “sweetness.”

“Jenna knows that if she was ever raped, she would call the police and scream and shout, so she keeps watching and looking back at ‘That Night’ and it’s so easy to think it’s someone else. Easy to disassociate herself from the woman who looks so much like her, who nods instead of screams and says ‘How lovely’ instead of ‘Fuck you.’”

Jenna’s “knowledge” of how she would react following a rape, as contrasted to how she did react, shows cultural expectations about how victims are supposed to behave and how this often differs from real reactions, through no fault of the survivor. This narrative is paralleled in Malak’s character arc when she realizes that it is more difficult than she thought to extricate herself from an abusive relationship.

“Love feels more solid when there are other people to witness it.”

Though this comment comes from Malak’s point of view and references her relationship with Ali, the novel supports this assessment through Kees’s arc as well. When Kees keeps her relationship with Harry secret, she feels fractured; though she mourns her family’s reaction after telling the truth, she is still able to personally connect to her religious devotion in a way that felt impossible while she lied. This visibility is thus presented in the novel as neither wholly positive though wholly negative, though it is framed as important.

“Kees has always believed family was code for excusing the mistakes and actions of people you could keep close without having to interrogate your own moral code.”

Kees’s belief about family, as discussed here, stems from the way her uncle was treated after he returned home with a child born out of wedlock with a white woman. Kees will come to learn, through her family’s reaction to her own relationship, that this “code” varies highly in terms of gender, as her own relationship is not treated similarly.

“Somewhere, in a place inaccessible and far away, [Malak] wonders if a man can only ever be this soft once he’s broken a woman.”

Malak’s thoughts about Ali’s “softness” after he abuses her show that she has internalized ideas that equate masculinity to “hardness.” The novel frames this notion as inherently harmful but one that is frequently practiced by men who have been taught highly gendered cultural mores.

“It is too early in the day to be that heavy. So, they say nothing, and for now, they tell each other little lies to keep living a version of their truth.”

Jenna and Malak decide to hide their unhappiness from one another, instead telling “each other little lies” that let them linger in the happiness of their reunion—even if this truth is partial and largely inaccurate. Ultimately, however, the novel suggests that telling the full truth to one’s friends is the only way to find consolation amid the hardships of life.

“There is no justice in law, just smart lawyers who know how to play the judges and the jury.”

Addy’s comment about the relationship between justice and law helps Kees gradually return to spending time with her fiancé and friends rather than focusing excessively on work. She initially sees her work as a single-minded quest for righteousness, but Addy’s comment helps her to see that she spends all her time working as an excuse to avoid her own troubles, which is not a selfless act.

“It was the moment she stayed that lives forever in her mind.

Not that she knew anything else. They never teach you how to leave. Women are taught to stay. To love unconditionally. To only pack suitcases for husbands but never for themselves.”

Malak’s decision to not leave Ali after his first instance of violence is underwritten by the way she has been taught certain gendered expectations about love. What she previously characterized as the strength of the women around her no longer seems so simple; instead, she sees the women of her community as laboring under unfair burdens and expectations about women’s supposed endless capacity for forgiveness.