The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak

Goodreads synopsis

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.

Rating

Review

Elif Shafak’s “The Island of Missing Trees” is a novel that sings to the soul—an intricate tapestry of identity, love, and nature’s enduring presence. Often, it’s the unexpected encounters with literature that leave the most profound impact, and Shafak’s latest offering has done just that, turning my skepticism into admiration and securing her place anew on my reading list.

The novel weaves a tale of Kostas and Defne, two teenagers from diverging Cypriot heritages, bound together in a love as enigmatic and forbidden as the divided island they call home. Amidst a taverna, under the silent witness of a fig tree through a roof cavity, their love blossoms, survives, and subtly departs. The fig tree is more than a silent witness; it’s a stoic narrator of their story, embodying the displacement and the blending of roots that characterize both the botanical and human aspects of immigration and identity.

Decades on, a fig tree in London connects Ada Kazantzakis to her Cypriot ancestry and the collective history she has never personally witnessed but feels profoundly. Shafak’s storytelling is a revelation—a testament to the echoes of our ancestors’ joy and pain resonating within us, a nod to the complex tapestry of inherited experiences that shape our being.

This is a philosophical odyssey that doesn’t shy away from delving into historical depths, ensuring that the factual scaffolding buttresses the emotional narrative that Shafak so adeptly spins. During my book club discussion, my effusive praise mirrored the book’s balanced dance between philosophical thought and heart-wrenching narrative, each step a beat in the masterpiece that is this book.

Shafak’s characters are etched with realism—their imperfections are as palpable as their dreams, their inspirations, their tangible pain, and their intangible traumas. It’s a cast sculpted with such authenticity that it breathes life into the pages. The integration of Greek mythology, masterfully interlaced, gives new dimensions to the characters, particularly to the fig tree, lending retrospectively understood quirks that are both meaningful and telling.

The novel stirs a curiosity—a desire to experience the tangible taste of a fig, much like the yearning to understand one’s roots. It resonates deeply, especially with someone like me, whose heritage has witnessed similar historical violence. The narrative doesn’t leave you wanting for closure, yet it instills a hunger to learn more about the characters whose lives you’ve briefly inhabited.

Shafak’s prose is deceptively simple, drawing the reader into a world where the lush simplicity of her language belies the powerful currents that flow beneath. It’s a book that captivates you, not just with its story, but with the emotions that are as much a character as Kostas, Defne, or Ada.

In “The Island of Missing Trees,” you’ll find a story that extends beyond its characters, touching on the collective, the communal soul that outlives individuals, reminding us that we are all but parts of a greater whole. I’m often at a loss for words when the right ones seem just out of reach, but for this novel, the words flow easily: it is highly recommended. With a full heart and an inspired mind, I give this book a well-deserved five stars.