Gut-wrenchingly sad and beautiful. 
Avoids tragedy-porn while still looking at the abyss of human souls living through displacement. Somehow manages not to romanticise the Struggle and yet explore it deeply. At one point, a character erupts at the family's limited upper-middle class background of relative privilege, and lack of regard for the fate of the poorer living through similar experiences. The book does not manage or seek to absolve that, it's left to the reader of how much issue to take with that. There is a stange theme of women's perception of their own and each other's bodies. I can't decide on whether it's done in a way that's profound or cringe. In general, this work doe  not need to be ashamed taking its place alongside the list of important historical fiction written on Palestine.