BROTHER ALIVE, written by Zain Khalid, challenged me in many ways. I am not well versed in Muslim culture or history. And because of my ignorance in these areas, I found myself fascinated and educated by the rich cultural nuance of this novel. 

Funny, isn’t it? How all things are marked by their beginnings? (Pg. 116)

Three unrelated orphaned boys, connected by circumstance, end up adopted by the same man, Imam Salim. They are undoubtedly marked by their beginnings. Unknowingly, their births were touched by death, betrayal, and friendship. 

Grief can undo many things. (Pg. 320)

For most of their lives, the brothers live above a mosque in Staten Island. The boys, all of different descent, Dayo (Nigerian), Iseul (Korean), and Youseff (Middle Eastern), are inseparable. 

When their adoptive father reveals to them the circumstances of their parents’ deaths, they have to decide if they are going to follow Salim on a vengeance mission or stay the course of their American lives. 

This is a wildly over-reductive summary of a super complex story, but more than plot points, this novel is driven by powerful themes: found family, sexuality amidst faith, the invisible similarities between the East and West when it comes to wealth and power, but mostly, this novel hinges on the internal conflict between faith and intellect. 

Perhaps he was like the West and would only acknowledge the blood on his hands if it were in service of himself. They all have taken their cue from God, who remains blameless despite a universe of evidence to the contrary. (Pg. 206)

Salim and Youseff both find themselves at odds with their faith when it comes to their sexuality. Their intellect is also at odds with their faith when it comes to life decisions and the idea of vengeance. 

Through most of the novel, Youseff is re-telling the story of the three adopted brothers to his niece, daughter of Iseul, Ruhi. With great humility Youseff also reveals what I consider the most important character in the novel—Brother. Youseff has an invisible friend, a sort of shadow self that he sees in many forms but who is almost always with him throughout his life. 

Brother shape shifts and appears to represent the deeper fears and anxieties that live within Youseff. We all seem to have these dual sides to ourselves; they are just not as physical as Brother is for Youseff. Brother seems to represent the distance that will always stand between the two sides of a self. The irreconcilable distance that stands in the versus. 

I found myself angry with Brother, grateful for Brother, confused at times by Brother. I think Khalid intended all of these feelings. 

Throughout the novel, the adopted brothers struggle with their father, with each other, with their partners, with their faith—and in the end, Khalid reminds us that:

Love is only love in the absence of control. (Pg. 196)

It is a hard truth, but a relatable truth that carried me through the dark corners of this deeply expressed novel. 

I was suddenly but calmly aware of my meaninglessness, seeing myself as the defenseless subject of entropy, the short arc of my life caught in this recursive and moronic struggle between ego, faith, and betrayal. (Pg. 329)