This is the first book I’ve come to love in a very, very long time. It sets itself apart in not only diction and voice- but setting and plot structure as well. Hamid is a master of three concepts: distance, hope, and evolution. He conveys these ideas subtly and excellently, establishing himself as a storyteller similar to H.G. Wells with language vaguely reminiscent of Jane Austen.

“If you don’t pray,” he said, “why do you wear it?”

She smiled. Took a sip. And spoke, the lower half of her face obscured by her cup. “So men don’t f*** with me,” she said.

On the surface, Exit West is a love story about two young adults coming to care for eachother amidst a country at war. These characters — Saeed and Nadia — at first seem entirely unaware that they are in positions not fit for love. The streets of their city are being bombed, and militias have just begun to take over neighborhoods of innocent civilians. Regardless, Saeed and Nadia nonchalantly scroll through social media and roll joints together in the temporary comfort of their homes. As the fighting worsens, the two begin to hear of secret doors said to transport ordinary civilians to places all across the globe. They wonder if a city far away from everything they’ve known could become a better place to live freely.

Saeed and Nadia did not move, but their house began to change nonetheless.

Hamid’s choice of POV for this story is genius. Telling Exit West in third person creates an illusion of distance between both the reader and the story as well as between Saeed and Nadia. Often, the reader can picture the scene exactly as if they were watching it unfold from some sort of drone or helicopter.

The second man lay on the floor and shaded his eyes from the light and gathered his strength, a knockoff Russian assault rifle by his side. He could not see who was at the front door, just that someone was there.

Despite their surroundings, Saeed and Nadia make do with what they have and rarely complain. It creates a sort of life goes on type of mood that could startle the reader if it wasn’t so subtly introduced, but Hamid always tends makes it work.

There was a mutual violence and excitement to their coupling, a kind of shocked, almost painful surprise.

Perhaps the best quality of Hamid’s writing is his repetitive use of commas. While I know that this can be controversial, I encourage each reader to forget everything they’ve been taught about writing while reading this book. There are no grammatical errors. No run-ons. No fragments. The only thing that limits the reader’s experience when it comes to reading longer sentences is their pre-conceived notion that sentences must end somewhere.

There was no physical violence in Nadia’s home, and much giving to charity, but when after finishing university Nadia announced, to her family’s utter horror, and to her own surprise for she had not planned to say it, that she was moving out on her own, an unmarried woman . . .

Exit West stole my heart and stimulated my brain. I’ve never met a more compelling dystopian novel.