Exit West is an SFF re-imagining of the recent refugee migration from Syria and other countries. It's also a deep look into the life of one couple joined by a journey neither anticipated. Nadia and Saeed escape their increasingly troubled homeland by travelling through a set of magical doors which transport them, and others, to new countries. Along the way, their relationship changes again and again, and their circumstances reveal new sides of their personalities. Hamid's writing style is sometimes a little convoluted as he uses many words to describe an experience that could have been rendered with one simple phrase. However, out of this abundance of words, he creates a rhythm which whisks the reader through this story, and adds a soft, patient tone of compassion to this story. In the end, Exit West is a smart, and often lyrical, political portal fantasy which can be read as a science fictional metaphor or straight SFF.

As is only to be expected, this book by Mohsin Hamid is worth reading.. It is a story about refugees and about survival. The doors are a metaphor for the dark and difficult journeys that refugees must make in order to get to a place of safety. It is a story about people fleeing from war, from bombings, from danger and destruction and how when they get to a place of safety they find that they are not safe, because they are not welcome. It does not matter really whether people are fleeing from war, from famine, from flooding or from persecution. They are fleeing and there are millions of them. This story of Nadia and Saeed is but one story. Mohsin Hamid uses their story to personalise the tale of refugees. They are not symbols. They are people that you will care about. They are not exemplary. They are deeply and ordinarily human. Their home city is not named. It could be Baghdad or Damascus or Mogadishu or Kabul. We only know that it is a Moslem city.. We know that Saeed prays, and that Nadia wears some form of Islamic dress, but is otherwise not religious. We know that they meet over coffee and without a chaperone. And we know that, when the crisis comes, they flee together. We know that they end up in Mykonos, which suggests that they are fleeing the war in Syria, but we are never told that. We know that they move on to London. We also know that they survive because when they are old (about my age) they return to their home city. This book is about how they survive. It has a very simple message: there, but for the grace of God, go I. It is a story that tells you not to ask “for whom the bell tolls: it tolls for thee”.

Mohsin Hamid has written a poignant, thought-provoking love story amidst the worldwide turmoil of conflict, disharmony and its horrendous consequences. These two themes are dealt with in a wonderfully balanced and fluid way, which illustrates Hamid’s clever writing skills, and is a clear observational overview of today's world. The story initially starts in an unknown Middle-East country (unfortunately there are several real countries/cities that could fit the description). Saeed and Nadia meet as students, and their relationship develops slowly, with the brakes of religion and independence holding it back. Saeed wanting to wait until they are married before consummating their relationship, while Nadia is a very independent woman who isn’t indoctrinated into religion and doesn’t follow traditions unless it is to ward-off male advances. Mohsin's writing creates such wonderful imagery and sense of personality, especially within this relationship. I loved that Saeed fought for celibacy outside marriage and Nadia was the open-minded person, challenging the controlling restrictions of religion and society. The city they live in gradually escalates into conflict forcing Nadia to move in with Saeed and his father for safety. After living for a period scrambling an existence, the only option is to leave their home through magical, time and space doors, that lead to other regions. The narration creates a great insight into how a civil war creeps up on the residents, with a foreboding and fatalistic feeling that lives and dream will be shattered. It is difficult to run from the home you have always known to a place that is alien and unwelcoming. Saeed’s father decides to remain, knowing it most likely means death, but at least he will be home, and near his beloved deceased wife. As refugees, Saeed and Nadia arrive in places where they are unwanted and treated with disdain, loathing and persecution. The couple manages to hold onto their love throughout, moving to Mykonos, then onto London, and finally to California, always hoping for salvation, always Exiting West. There is a topical irony in the locations of UK and USA, as both have recently experienced a majority electorate that wishes to take drastic steps to prevent immigration and refugee support. A hugely relational issue that sets in motion policies of division and isolation in a world consumed with war, genocide, migration, bigotry and racism. Throughout this journey, the relationship between Saeed and Nadia starts to change and while they have a deep affection for each other, their feelings become more platonic and they behave more like siblings. In the end, “... they looked at each other, for a long, long time, any gesture seeming inadequate, and in silence, Nadia turned and walked away into a misty drizzle, and her raw face was wet and alive.” The story had a strange end, as both the relationship between Saeed and Nadia, and the refugee crisis both seem to run out of pace. It does, however, leave us with a renewed sense of hope for humanity to build a better world. With regards to the relationship between the couple. Fifty years after leaving the city of their birth, Saeed and Nadia meet again and with reflection, “Nadia said, 'imagine how different life would have been if I had agreed to marry you', and Saeed said 'imagine how different it would be if I had agreed to have sex with you', and Nadia said 'we were having sex', and Saeed considered and smiled and said 'yes I suppose we were'.” Many thanks to Penguin Books (UK) Publishing and NetGalley, for an ARC version of the book in return for an honest review.

Having been sent the proof, I aimed to read it without knowing anything about the story. It's a short easy read with an interesting plot device that is a few steps away from reality but not enough to pigeon hole it into a genre. Quite timely set against a War torn country with a refugee crisis and the countries unwilling to take on the worlds unluckiest inhabitants.

[Immediate impressions] It is not often that I finish a book and have no idea how to review or even rate it - I have so many conflicting thoughts about this one that I think I should sleep on it and see whether my feelings are any more coherent after that... [On further reflection] I can see why this book has been praised, and why it is on the Booker longlist, but I found it rather disappointing, and I enjoyed The Reluctant Fundamentalist a lot more. I can see the point of Hamid's allegorical treatment of the migration crisis by allowing the existence of doors connecting war zones and other trouble spots with first world locations, and the central love story of Saeed and Nadia was touching, as were his descriptions of the unnamed city they are fleeing, but I just couldn't buy the fantasy element - as in The Underground Railroad there is no attempt to explain how it came about. Hamid seems to have very little interest in the practical - for example where do the migrants get sufficient food from and how does a modern first world economy cope with having its capital swamped by such numbers? I can see that the idea was a bold one, and the book is well written, but for me this is the weakest book I have read so far on this year's list. The Booker jury clearly saw more in this one that I did!