Elif Shafak

The Island of Missing Trees

A rich, magical new novel from the Booker-shortlisted author of 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in this Strange World - available for pre-order now It is 1974 on the island of Cyprus. Two teenagers, from opposite sides of a divided land, meet at a tavern in the city they both call home. The tavern is the only place that Kostas, who is Greek and Christian, and Defne, who is Turkish and Muslim, can meet, in secret, hidden beneath the blackened beams from which hang garlands of garlic, chilli peppers and wild herbs. This is where one can find the best food in town, the best music, the best wine. But there is something else to the place: it makes one forget, even if for just a few hours, the world outside and its immoderate sorrows. In the centre of the tavern, growing through a cavity in the roof, is a fig tree. This tree will witness their hushed, happy meetings, their silent, surreptitious departures; and the tree will be there when the war breaks out, when the capital is reduced to rubble, when the teenagers vanish and break apart. Decades later in north London, sixteen-year-old Ada Kazantzakis has never visited the island where her parents were born. Desperate for answers, she seeks to untangle years of secrets, separation and silence. The only connection she has to the land of her ancestors is a Ficus Carica growing in the back garden of their home. In The Island of Missing Trees, prizewinning author Elif Shafak brings us a rich, magical tale of belonging and identity, love and trauma, memory and amnesia, human-induced destruction of nature, and, finally, renewal. 'A brilliant novel -- one that rings with Shafak's characteristic compassion for the overlooked and the under-loved, for those whom history has exiled, excluded or separated. I know it will move many readers around the world, as it moved me' Robert Macfarlane 'A wonderfully transporting and magical novel that is, at the same time, revelatory about recent history and the natural world and quietly profound' William Boyd 'This is an enchanting, compassionate and wise novel and storytelling at its most sublime' Polly Samson 'A wise novel of love and grief, roots and branches, displacement and home, faith and belief. THE ISLAND OF MISSING TREES is balm for our bruised times' David Mitchell 'An outstanding work of breathtaking beauty' Lemn Sissay 'A writer of important, beautiful, painful, truthful novels' Marian Keyes 'Lovely heartbreaker of a novel centered on dark secrets of civil wars & evils of extremism: Cyprus, star-crossed lovers, killed beloveds, damaged kids. Uprootings. (One narrator is a fig tree!)' Margaret Atwood on Twitter

Lorna Rivett

Because in real life, unlike in history books, stories come to us not in their entirety but in bits and pieces, broken segments and partial echoes, a full sentence here, a fragment there, a clue hid- den in between. In life, unlike in books, we have to weave our stories out of threads as fine as the gossamer veins that run through a butterfly's wings.

Our island, with its blossoming trees and lush meadows, was an ideal place to rest and recharge from the butterfly's perspec- tive. Upon leaving Cyprus, she would wing her way to Europe, whence she would never return, although some day her descend- ants would. Her children would make the journey in reverse, and their children would take the same route back, and thus it would continue, this generational migration, where what mattered was not the final destination but to be on the move, searching, chan- ging, becoming.

A map is a two-dimensional repeesentaticon with arbitrary symbols and incised lines that decide who is to be our enemy and who is to be our friend, who deserves our love and who deserves our hatred and who, our sheer indifferenece. Cartography is another name for stoeies told by winners. For stories told by those who have lost, there isn't one.

beea

I wish I could have told him that loneliness is a human invention. Trees are never lonely. Humans think they know with certainty where their being ends and someone else's starts. With their roots tangled and caught up underground, linked to fungi and bacteria, trees harbour no such illusions. For us, everything is interconnected.

Arissa

O que importava não era o destino final, mas estar em movimento, buscando, mudando, transformando-se

"Eu me pergunto se o motivo para ser mais propensa à melancolia do que qualquer uma delas é o fato de eu ser uma planta imigrante e, como todos os imigrantes, carregar comigo a sombra de outra terra."

"Onde começa a história de alguém quando toda vida tem mais de um fio e o que chamamos de nascimento não é o único começo, nem a morte é exatamente um fim?"

"Porque é isso que as migrações e os deslocamentos fazem conosco: quando deixa a casa rumo a terras desconhecidas, você não continua simplesmente vivendo como antes; uma parte de você morre por dentro para que outra parte possa começar tudo de novo."

O amor é uma afirmação ousada da esperança.

SF. Sutcliffe 

thrilling read. Lovers set against the backdrop of the Cyprus conflict. 

loisesya

‘…and behind his beautiful eyes, engraved in his soul, they will still be there, the remnants of an island at the far end of the Mediterranean Sea, the remains of our love.’

‘If you weep for all the sorrows in this world, in the end you will have no eyes.’ 

Maisha Prather

Humans are strange that way, full of contradictions. It's as if they need to hate and exclude as much as they need to love and embrace. Their hearts close tightly, then open at full stretch, only to clench again, like an undecided fist.

Ani Velasquez

What I meant was, some people stand in front of a tree and the first thing they notice is the trunk. These are the ones who prioritize order, safety, rules, continuity. Then there are those who pick out the branches before anything else. They yearn for change, a sense of freedom. And then there are those who are drawn to the roots, though concealed under the ground. They have a deep emotional attachment to their heritage, identity, traditions…

Knowledge is nobody’s property. You receive it, you give it back.

Don’t you worry. God made lower branches for birds that cannot fly so well.

Arriving there is what you are destined for, but do not hurry the journey at all…

Robyn Harley

“But, then again, anyone who expects love to be sensible had perhaps never loved”

There are so many beautiful quotes in this book, I am truly moved by these words specifically! 

‘In the most surprising ways, the victims continued to live, because that is what nature did to death, it transformed abrupt endings into a thousand new beginnings’ Kosta’s talking about the war victims missing bodies is such a beautiful quote!

stephanie

'...whenever something terrible happens to a country - or an island - a chasm opens between those who go away & those who stay. I'm not saying it's easy for the people who left, I'm sure they have their own hardships, but they have no idea what it was like for the ones who stayed.' 

'The ones who stayed dealt with the wounds & then the scars, & that must be extremely painful...but for us...runaways, you might call us...we never had a chance to heal, the wounds will always remain open.'

All around the world, wherever there is, or ever has been, a civil war or an ethnic conflict, come to the trees for clues, because we will be the ones that sit silently in communion with human remains.

A tree is a memory keeper. Tangled beneath our roots, hidden inside our trunks, are the sinews of history, the ruins of wars nobody came to win, the bones of the missing.

Not that I agree but...interesting perspective. And I like how Shafak described it.

Humans are strange that way, full of contradictions. It's as if they need to hate & exclude as much as they need to love & embrace. Their hearts close tightly, then open  at full stretch, only to clench again, like an undecided fist.

Where do you start someone's story when every life has more than one thread & what we call birth is not the only beginning, nor is death exactly an end?

Elif Shafak has a brilliant writing style that combines commitment to justice and delicacy. Through the fig tree, she takes us on a journey through the history of a family that has been affected by civil war, through the many memories and pains they carry, and through their everlasting love despite everything. Much more than a tree, it symbolizes roots and traditions, the life they were unable to live - the connection with the past they left behind. The fig tree reminds us how brutal migrations can be, and how important it is to create connections that make us feel at home - while reinforcing the pain wars are resposible for. 

It was a beautiful and sad book, I loved the historical facts and learning more about Cyprus’ history. The way trauma can tear someone down was depicted really well here. This book definitely motivated me to do some research about ecology and the cultures in Cyprus. I’m also deeply touched by the suffering and resilience of the islanders, and will definitely not forget the stories I have read. I liked the fig tree, but in some of the chapters I thought that she was doing too much and that she played too major a roll. 

This novel gave me so much pain in its interrogation of intergenerational trauma, the intense yearning for love between Kostas anf Defne and the simultaneous tragedy and beauty of finding love at a time where rationally it should be avoided at all costs. But anyone who 'expects love to be sensible has perhaps never loved.' As someone who is part of a diaspora, I found the idea of my nation following me like a shadow particularly resonant.

Winnie

One of the best books I’ve read, no doubt. So rich in historical facts and events, these fictional characters tell a story of dark years in Cyprus. The effects of civil war. The never ending light of hope. And my favorite part… nature. 🌳

Loved. Ripped through it in a few days. I appreciate her neutrality as a Turk in writing about the politics between Greek and Turkey. 

Noor 

Yash

This is a beautifully written story about relationships between complex family dynamics including dealing with sudden loss, and grief, stories about star-crossed lovers of opposite faith and religion, the futility of war and its aftermath and consequences (intergenerational trauma), and a motherly-toned education piece on climate change and poor handling of, ignorance and its impact on flora and fauna and the entire chain of ecology, and not to forget the role of social media.

It all began when Ada went viral after an odd and humiliating incident at school. To make matters worse, it was the final day before a long school break. Ada and her friends left school with an assignment to interview a family member to learn more about family backgrounds and have a presentation on it once school reopens. On top of all of that, Ada's mom has recently passed, and to lose a mother at any age… Let's just say this might be one of the eye-opening, heart-opening, healing, and most important school assignments of her life. 

The author tells this story by allowing multiple timelines to develop, with a help from a fig tree as a storyteller. I think it is a structure that was well built up. It provided all the necessary information that is relevant to the whole (of the story) and it all made sense, leaving no stones unturned. I was engaged every time I started on the book- pausing and Googling on certain historical facts (summer of 1974 civil war in Cyprus), certain ecology terms: I went down the 'fruit bats' rabbit hole that one time, for hours. 

I thoroughly enjoyed the book, I loved that the experience the book took me through via the surprising facts, through different ideas from what I already know and did not know before and I believe the author conveyed her concerns on the themes mentioned above beautifully with an air of magical realism, historical fiction and intelligent prose. The ending did not 100% surprise me as I sort of caught the clues along the way (I noticed similar usage of terms and phrases ping-ponging in the dialogues) but it left an impact afterwards which made me reflect and felt bittersweet and extreme sympathy for Kostas, Ada and Meryem afterwards.

I liked this book, sometimes it was a little bit boring, but I continued and I’m glad for it. I loved the character of Kostas, he was so sweet. I also liked that the book deals with topics like killing birds (my heart hurts) and ecology, it added some value for me. 

Nikola

The story flips between points of views - one being that of the fig tree. At some points you lose touch with the voice of the fig tree but it does give another perspective that the other characters aren’t able to give - especially towards the end which I enjoyed. A story about Cyprus and the war between its people, food, and love that grows strong and divided - even when pulled apart from home roots. It was a slow burn but a nice way to share what feels like a family history/tree. 

Paige Woodie

Oh my GOODNESS! I 100% recommend this book, it’s so beautiful and the way it explains mental health through the trees and the way the storm relates  with Ada’s personal life! it’s just so moving, the ending was so unexpected, I never imagined myself crying over a tree!!! As well as this, the way the characters relationships re-form throughout this book is so sweet and brings out such a soft spot in me… This book reminds us about how our pasts shape our futures but also how we can become strong and overcome certain traumas! BEAUTIFUL, WHOLESOME, PERFECT!

Loved it...especially the observations by the fig tree.... 

Suzanne Owens

Overall nice read, but not the best of the best. Fig tree is a nice metaphor, but I feel like it was a bit too much at the end.

Luca Katona

Camille Wenner

"A rich, magical new novel on belonging and identity, love and trauma, nature and renewal, from the Booker-shortlisted author of 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in This Strange World. Two teenagers, a Greek Cypriot and a Turkish Cypriot, meet at a taverna on the island they both call home. In the taverna, hidden beneath garlands of garlic, chili peppers and creeping honeysuckle, Kostas and Defne grow in their forbidden love for each other. A fig tree stretches through a cavity in the roof, and this tree bears witness to their hushed, happy meetings and eventually, to their silent, surreptitious departures. The tree is there when war breaks out, when the capital is reduced to ashes and rubble, and when the teenagers vanish. Decades later, Kostas returns. He is a botanist looking for native species, but really, he's searching for lost love. Years later a Ficus carica grows in the back garden of a house in London where Ada Kazantzakis lives. This tree is her only connection to an island she has never visited--- her only connection to her family's troubled history and her complex identity as she seeks to untangle years of secrets to find her place in the world. A moving, beautifully written, and delicately constructed story of love, division, transcendence, history, and eco-consciousness, The Island of Missing Trees is Elif Shafak's best work yet"--

Fraser Simons

Update on reflection: I am bumping this down because my issue with the book I think is fundamental to what the story is about. And I still feel bitter about my experience with it, months later.

This is a sprawling book, both in its coverage of time and physical space, as well as perspective. There are quite a few characters, though some are more predominate than others. There’s the inclusion of an old tree that is predominately providing historical exposition. 

Overall, I liked this, but I really am adverse to prescriptive storytelling. And this is that. The conclusions you’re supposed to come to, you can’t help but do so, since there is so much repetition of the themes and allegory and metaphor. 

It is effective at showing the pain and growth from a literal transplant, both of the tree as well as the people who leave and live elsewhere. You consume the history in an easily digestible way, you see how grief and trauma and love are explored. That all worked for me.

Where it stumbled somewhat (beyond the sort of sophomoric overuse of simile, metaphor, allegory, etc.), is the anthropomorphism of the tree. Our relationship with nature, at a cultural and scientific level, makes it clear that we do not understand creatures all that well, as much as we have fables and folklore about these things. And so, when people endow nature—especially trees, though—with these qualities where it’s more-or-less a person, but of course with a veeeery long memory, it feels kind of weird and fetishistic and incomplete in its thinking of the natural compared to humanity. I am all for natural creatures being endowed with qualities that allow them to participate in stories. But I am not interested in them sort of aping humanity at all. I think it’s denigrating and solipsistic in its own way, and a pet peeve of mine. 

This combined with the overuse of humanity directly learning from nature. Needing to rediscover our roots and entrench ourselves in the natural rather than the schizophrenic, cruel societies we have created, creates a kind of dissonance for me. I think it works at conveying the authors intent (many, many times over) but again, kind of reiterates this oversimplification of the natural world existing in a fetishistic quality to be made use of by people. We should pattern ourselves and society to form an equilibrium with nature, absolutely. But that doesn’t mean, in turn, that nature is understood by us. It feels like another sort of colonization of the natural world, basically. Unintentional though it may be.

So, as you maybe can tell, in a very human story, I kept finding myself in the weeds, so to speak. I would settle into the live story or whatever else spiralling out into this multiple perspective piece, and then encounter, invariably, my pet peeves again. I wanted to like this a lot more than I did and I think it’s solely down to the above problems that It didn’t resonate with me as much as it did others. So it goes.

edit: I also think the colonialism reflected in the tree's perspective and anthropomorphism that is antithetical to what the story is about--war, displacement, literally colonialism--in making the tree reflect humanity, rather than nature in most aspects, I think it creates a dissonance that makes it completely unsuccessful.

Book was not bad but, I expected a better story. The fig tree metaphor was good but was too centralised within the story. There was a great story of humans in this book but Shafak preferred to use fig tree metaphor to describe the book. There are many different themes and ideas within the story but most of the themes are under-developed. This made me feel like a Young Adult

Yagmur su ozdemir

Laura Dobie

A sharply-observed, beautifully-written and touching exploration of love, conflict, grief, migration, conservation and family relationships.

"A wise novel of love and grief, roots and branches, displacement and home, faith and belief. Balm for our bruised times." -David Mitchell, author of Utopia Avenue A rich, magical new novel on belonging and identity, love and trauma, nature and renewal, from the Booker-shortlisted author of 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in This Strange World. Two teenagers, a Greek Cypriot and a Turkish Cypriot, meet at a taverna on the island they both call home. In the taverna, hidden beneath garlands of garlic, chili peppers and creeping honeysuckle, Kostas and Defne grow in their forbidden love for each other. A fig tree stretches through a cavity in the roof, and this tree bears witness to their hushed, happy meetings and eventually, to their silent, surreptitious departures. The tree is there when war breaks out, when the capital is reduced to ashes and rubble, and when the teenagers vanish. Decades later, Kostas returns. He is a botanist looking for native species, but really, he's searching for lost love. Years later a Ficus carica grows in the back garden of a house in London where Ada Kazantzakis lives. This tree is her only connection to an island she has never visited--- her only connection to her family's troubled history and her complex identity as she seeks to untangle years of secrets to find her place in the world. A moving, beautifully written, and delicately constructed story of love, division, transcendence, history, and eco-consciousness, The Island of Missing Trees is Elif Shafak's best work yet.

The Island of Missing Trees

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