Book Review: “The Coin” by Yasmin Zaher
Cleanliness, Next to Godliness
Yasmin Zaher’s debut novel, The Coin, is already starting to attract some serious buzz. The online literary magazine The Millions published an article a few days ago titled “How Yasmin Zaher Wrote The Year’s Best New York City Novel.” While I’m not sure I’d go quite that fact in superlative praise — after all, there’s still half a year left for another novel to come along that is better than The Coin — the novel is generally a good one. What makes the novel stand out? Well, it’s about a young Palestinian woman living in NYC as a teacher and as something of a would-be criminal as she’s involved in a pyramid scheme. You can read a lot into that assessment: are Palestinians being portrayed here as being worthy of respect and with lofty ambitions, or are they just violent terrorists prone to lashing out at any moment? The answer, in this novel, may lie somewhere in between. The Coin is a compelling read — I read it in two sittings at less than three hours in length — though one that is thorny and not without problems. Still, if you’re looking for quality literary fiction written by underprivileged voices, The Coin should be your go-to novel.
The book’s female narrator is nameless, showing how volatile Palestinian identity is in America. She works as an instructor at a preppy elementary school. She spends her free time with a vagrant she’s met on the street who has a plan to resell Birkin handbags to those less privileged. The novel weaves her life story of eight months spent in the USA with her bisexual encounters — including a relationship she has with a man named Sasha, whose connection to her is a bit of a cipher. A large chunk of the novel is about her unconventional teaching methods — such as giving free time to her 14-year-old charges to do anything they’d like in class and taking them to poetry readings where the highlight of such field trips is, instead, a stop at a gourmet burger joint. The novel’s weak point comes midway through the book when the narrator and her homeless friend (named Trenchcoat) go to Paris to obtain luxury purses for their harebrained scheme. The novel ends with a nod to Margaret Atwood’s Surfacing, a book in the “woman goes feral” genre. (I hope I haven’t given too much away there.) Through this all, the narrator tries her best to stay meticulously clean, detailing her cleansing regimen through pages of text, so much so that it threatens to become a central plot point early on.
If that last sentence sounds like a harsh appraisal, The Coin remains quite readable even in its more pretentious moments. This is a book that you’ll want to flip through the pages to see how it all ends, even though this is literary fiction and not some fast-paced thriller. The key to the novel’s success is that its narrator seems relatable, even if she has quirks. If anything, The Coin seeks to humanize Palestinians, who are getting a nasty rap these days from their Jewish neighbors. (I’m probably sounding flippant here, but let’s say the book’s release is coincidental to world events, considering all that’s gone on in the Israel-Palestinian conflict.) Part of the book’s charm is its ordinariness. This is the simple tale of a woman trying to go about her business. And part of the book is just about how tough it is to be a woman of fashion and means. The tale lists various fashion brands throughout the main character’s start-of-the-day dressing as she prepares for work. This adds to the realism and dimension of the work as a whole. While The Coin is undoubtedly a work of women’s fiction, it can be enjoyed by men as well — partially for its depictions of sexual activity, which comes across as masculine at times. (But the door swings both ways, as it were.)
Ultimately, The Coin is a bravura work of fiction. It fetishizes the ordinary and becomes something extraordinary, much like its nameless narrator’s relationship with the city she calls home (if only temporarily). The novel gives a lot to think about and ponder, even if it feels as though it was written off-the-cuff and freestyle. This book may cause readers to see the plight of Palestinians living away from their homeland in a different light. It may even draw sympathy to their plight. The unnamed narrator of this book wants to return to nature, to go home. She longs to have a name, even if she understands why she cannot. Essentially, The Coin is a tender yet unsentimental tale that is partly risqué and ribald and partly sweet and compassionate. You get a sense that the narrator cares about other people to her detriment, for she’s willing to cover up any transgressions against her. Thus, readers of all backgrounds and stripes will come away with a lot by reading The Coin. It may or may not be the best New York City book to be released this year, but it is thoughtful and meditative. This is well worth deviating from your usual literary diet of burgers and fries for something, perhaps, a little more vegetarian. The Coin is worth almost every penny spent buying it, and you’ll be happy to have done so.
Yasmin Zaher’s The Coin will be published by Catapult on July 9, 2024.
Of course, if you like what you see, please recommend this piece (click on the clapping hands icon below) and share it with your followers.
Get in touch: zacharyhoule@rogers.com
