Pakastani author Mansab weaves an original and intriguing tale with threads of Islamic mysticism, familial estrangement/betrayal, and a serial killer whose murders all have a link to Layla, a professor of women’s histories and stories. Abandoned by her mother as a child, Layla seeks to find that mother, and thinks that she may have done so. But are she and that woman, a renowned Sufi storyteller who has suffered through, and survived, her own years-long kidnapping, the ultimate targets of the killer, who leaves his own story-related clues at his crime scenes? Read the book to find out!

Very engaging and interesting read. Very well developed and ambitious. Will be recommending to library collection and patrons.

Thank you to Netgalley for a free copy of this ARC. All views and opinions in this review are my own.

I really wanted to like this book, because the description had some elements that I usually find appealing in other books. It was supposed to explore a mother-daughter relationship, solve a murder mystery and discover some lore about Sufi storytelling.

Instead, I found it difficult to find some connection with the characters. The dialogues were too lengthy, and some of the words used were too complex. I also wanted to really get into the folklore and mythology surrounding Sufi storytelling and discovery their connections with the murder mystery, but I found the comparisons too forced, with all these sentences that say “Sufi storytelling is this”. In the end, I felt like I barely gained any knowledge about Sufi storytelling and the murder mystery wasn’t really all that mysterious. The ending felt rushed as well.

The only strong and interesting part of the book was Part 2, which described the flashback to one of the main character’s time in Afghanistan.

The Sufi Storyteller follows our protagonist Layla, a university professor and author on Sufi storytelling. All of her life has been determined by the search for her biological mother, who abandoned her when she was only 9 years old.

"Stories are evidence that words are magic. Words have power. They invoke change and action, even in others. Words are the real magic, extant magic."

This novel opens with a murder on campus. Can this be connected to Layla's search for her mother? Storytelling convention tells her to pay attention. While The Sufi Storyteller opens with murder, and the blurb even calls it a murder mystery, I found this to be more of a backdrop to the reflections on storytelling, family relationships and feminism. Not in the least because of how easy it is to spot the murderer early on.

"Coincidence was a concept Layla did not subscribe to, because coincidence was a marker in stories urging the protagonist and the reader to scrutinize the situation more closely. Coincidence hinted at parallel truths, inter-conmectivity, histories and clues that may have been forgotten by the protagonist, but were vital to the story, and their own survival. In stories, coincidence was never truly a fluke. If something happened twice, there was a pattern."

Looking at this novel in that light I really enjoyed my time with it. Mansab uses gorgeous prose to tell us how storytelling both captures and shapes our lives. The stories we tell ourselves and each other, the themes in those stories that pop up in every culture, what these stories mean to each of us when we encounter them at just the right time and are able to decipher their meaning. I loved learning more about the origins of Sufi Storytelling and how it parallels and contrasts with the Western storytelling I am personally more familiar with. This story reads a lot like a historical fiction book without the historical setting.

"The story is the catalyst but not for all readers. It is a catalyst only if allowed to be by the reader's state of mind and self-awareness."

What I also enjoyed very much were the themes of womanhood, motherhood and feminism. There were interesting reflections on the oppression of women throughout history and their resistance. In the larger sense when it comes to Sufi Storytelling, in the women who were traditionally the storytellers and were often portrayed as Mother, Maiden and Crone. But in Western stories plots were often changed to make them appear weaker compared to men, needing saving by them. And also on a smaller scale in the resistance of women, like in Layla's birth mother's story we learn more about over the course of the story.

"Power is not female in the tales written by men."

Mansab excels in spinning an interesting tale which leaves us to ponder not only the story itself, but our lives in turn. It all feels very philosophical. She invites us to reflect on what stories mean in our lives, and what we can glean from them and thus apply to our existence. The combination of prose and overarching story make for a unique and memorable read. While I had a great time with the story overall, I would have liked a bit more from the ending. One or two more chapters, an epilogue, just to wrap things up nicely.

"Story develops fully and has most impact when it is shared, when it is discussed and mined for meaning, symbolism and subtext, as when you write papers, reviews, discuss them in book clubs, have class discussions, and even if just two people talk about it, though they may not be like-minded."

The Sufi Storyteller is a great read for people who love feminist themes and reflections on womanhood and motherhood. I would recommend this novel to readers who enjoy beautiful prose, and literary or historical fiction (without the historical setting).

TW: murder, child abandonment, kidnapping, rape, physical abuse, forced pregnancy, miscarriage, infertility, suicide attempt, stalking, sexism, misogyny, ageism, gun violence, classism

A massive thank you to Unbound Publishing and NetGalley for allowing me access to an Advanced Readers Copy of this book. I will post my review to my website closer to the publication date.

The story centres around Layla and the first third of the book is dedicated to her story and how she has developed herself from the point where she was abandoned by her birth mother at age 9 and then brought up by Hasina, a loving and amazing adoptive mother. Layla doesn't understand why her real mother abandoned her and is desperate to find her. The other passion she has is stories, particularly Sufi storytelling, which she learned from her mother before she was 9 and has led to her career as a professor, and writer.

It commences with her discovery of a dead body in the library where she works. The woman is naked except for a red coat which she wears. This is the second dead body Layla has found. Both have links to common fairy tales, Red Riding Hood, and the first to Cinderella.

In this first section we are also introduced to Sultan, Layla's cat, Khayyam, a past boyfriend of Layla's, Mira an old Sufi Storyteller, whom Layla suspects is her mother and to Reza, another professor at the school.

At page 115 I stopped to make some notes. At this point, I was a bit confused and astounded that after finding one dead body already (at the front of her house) that you would not tell the Police about the first one, especially given the links to her are so strong (her house, her office) and that the story links were so strong (obvious) and likely related to her profession.

This was my first frustration with the tale - that she doesn't make the obvious connections and does not take the obvious steps. Why would you not tell the Police? Why would you stalk your mother for such a long period and not talk to her? These are parts to it that just don't feel logical.

I also noted a frustration with Layla's way of processing information, especially how she would think about things - it feels quite young (this is not the best example but one I wrote down):

"In the darkened hall where only stories reigned supreme, Layla could almost forget the dead body she'd found in the library. Almost"

But the most frustrating thing for me, was it was obvious who the murderer was quite early on, and by mid way through the second section which is a focus on Mira's story it was clear. So then it was just a matter of wrapping it up and this took 100-150 more pages.

The other part of this book was the story telling and the tales. I liked some of these and the historic origins of some of our fairytales, but I found that it was almost like Mira or Lalya were lecturing, or perhaps over describing them so there is no doubt everyone, regardless of their intellect would be able to understand them. And for me, leaving no space for the reader to think and ponder a meaning, an interpretation, or even who the murderer may be, made the book a bit two dimensional and it never came to life in my hands.

I think some people will love this book, so my review is not necessarily a criticism, but it just wasn't for me. I don't love murder mystery and I like my fiction to make me think and feel.

I did however like this quote, as it reminds me of my book clubs and how much joy I get from them:

"Story develops fully and has most impact when it is shared, when it is discussed and mined for meaning, symbolism and subtext..."

Thanks to netgalley for the ARC.

I want to start off saying that there were many sentences without any spacing? Making it difficult to read? I don’t know if that’s because it got reformatted to a kindle if not, needs more editing.

This is a book full of prose and lyrical writing. That’s just not my jam but it was beautiful. The mystery aspect is what pulled me in to request a copy, but it is more of a subplot compared to the rest of the book. I would say this is more of a women’s literary fiction. About the journey of finding yourself and seeing how others view you. It’s also about mother daughter relationships.
I felt like the motherly demeanor of Ma was accurate. I’m not Bengali but I’m Indian so it reverberated with me.

I’d recommend it if you like following people on their life journeys as they discover themselves.

You know my first thought was about how through the medium of storytelling, an estranged mother and daughter re-unite just in time to thwart the efforts of a murderer who is out to kill them. It is an engrossing premise— there is the emotional scope and then, there is the visual scope as Mansab weave a tapestry of an operatic story that spans generations, countries, and time. I only wish there was music to add to this tale. It would have been an immersive reading experience.

The Sufi Storyteller by Faiqa Mansab follows an interesting kaleidoscopic narrative structure, each anecdotal event in the book produces changing reflections of the characters, revealing layers to their own life stories.

As a keeper and teller of stories, Mira and Layla, our protagonists, find themselves inextricably linked — Layla is a scholar of women’s histories and stories who one day finds a dead body in her university’s study. Addressed is a note, not to her, but to Mira, a famous Sufi storyteller, someone who Layla has been following on the lecture circuit.

What transpires after is a journey into the realm of the story — Mira’s traumatic past and Layla’s tragic one must meet in the middle to find the murderer in the present.

Insightful parallels drawn with the semantic structure of Sufi storytelling and the actual unravelling of the story enhance the author’s deft skill at playing out a story within the story. The multigenerational cast of characters establishes a strong sense of community and the reverence for the original Sufi storytellers; their names and contributions peppered along the chapters.

While it is Layla who starts off the story, it is Mira who carries it through using beautiful prose and poetry, rich and heavy with emotions to tell a spell binding story about her life and the transformation from a captive woman to a Sufi storyteller. Her interactions with Kamli, a village woman, who tells her the stories she has heard; women are the first storytellers, is poignant not only because of its emotions and the situation, but also for the message that is within each one of them, as Kamli stresses to Mira, will bring her the freedom she yearns for.

Mira, as is cyclical nature of Sufi stories, tries to impart the same wisdom that is found layered between the stories to Layla, and the journey continues far away from the realm to capture the murderer on loose.

This is an engrossing, hugely readable story about two women that unravels the intricate twists and revelations over two generations with a certain languidly that edges on love and tragedy, mystery and redemption, and that all things are intended even though they are accidental, especially in the beauty of the things we do.

This was my first exposure to Pakistani author Faiqa Mansab and I absolutely loved this. But it certainly won't be for everyone. If you go into this book expecting magical realism or Middle Eastern-inspired fantasy, you'll likely be bored. I'd classify this book as upmarket women's fiction and the magical realism in it is rooted in the cultural traditions passed down by women storytellers, but that's not the point of it. The point of it is female rage and power.

The story takes place on a college campus in rural Illinois, where scholar Layla researches the cultural impact of storytelling and begrudgingly teaches, while she tortures herself hunting down the mother who transformatively abandoned her as a child. She spends lovely days with her adoptive mother, who tells stories of her own through the art of cooking, which I could taste and smell on the page through the vivid descriptions of food and aunties lovingly chattering as Layla's slum-adopted cat winds his way among their feet.

It then alternates to Afghanistan, where Layla's mother, a bold and naive war correspondent from New York, was captured by a tribal chieftan and held for 12 years, forced into marriage and raped daily until she bore children against her will.

The legacy of that violence is passed down through their family as a trail of murders follows Layla to her new campus, where she reunites with her mother in a strained, bitter union, a practicality to help solve the mystery. Her mother is also a scholar of Sufi storytelling.

The pace was a little jagged for me; this is character-driven women's fiction and I felt there were some gaps in Layla's story; did she just have selective amnesia about her childhood in Afghanistan due to trauma? But she was at least 10 when they fled. It was dominated by academic, philosophical musings about the nature and purpose of storytelling, which I found interesting but also bogged things down.

The men in this book were kind of flat characters, caricatures of toxic masculinity, and I wished they'd had a little more dimension or complexity to add more surprise.

As a result the murder mystery appeared to be an afterthought amid the larger interpersonal themes, and was rushed through in the last 30%. I predicted who the murderer was early on and this was probably the most pedantic part of the book.

So like Professor Rezi once accused Layla, her academic study of stories also dehumanized them and took away their magic, and I found that was an issue in this book as well. But also appropriate, given the Sufi tradition of stories within the larger story.

All in all, this was a beautifully written book that made me think, a story of misogyny, generational trauma and oppression and the way stories can either save us or help us run away from our past. It all depends on the listener and what they bring into the story as they hear it as much as the storyteller's intentions and cultural framework.

As a lover of books and stories and the magic they hold over my own life, I certainly appreciated that message. I will be thinking about this important and challenging book for a very long time. This is the kind of book for people who like to think critically about the literature they consume, and it is not for those who prefer to consume story to escape the horrors of the world.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the advance review copy. I am leaving this review voluntarily.

This was a very nice read. I love the different culture, Sufi, and the mystery set in that culture. It was new to me and I learned a lot. Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher and the author for a chance to read this book.

Thanks NetGalley and Neem Tree publications for an advanced e-book version of this book.

this was a whole lot of... nothing. I went into it with a lot of expectations with the blurb of murder mystery, thrilling with expositions on sufism and spiritual exploration. What it did offer was a disjointed, direction-less narrative about family dynamics, identity and gender. I'm not complaining that it explores these themes, I'm just merely annoyed at how these themes were captured with no sense of plot and drive. Honestly, it struggles under the weight of its ambition.

The diverse cast lacked any sense of development, their interactions driven by accusations, no reconciliation, just endless conflict for the sake of drama. It constantly collapses onto academic jargon for storytelling to tell a story. By the time the plot remembers itself of a murder (multiple), I was praying for the killer to simply show up. I felt like I was watching a soap opera at some point. and not even a good one.

Mira's trauma was difficult to endure, not because of the gravitas of the narrative, but the way it concentrated all the violence onto a single character, and the other character not even willing to understand and empathise with it. It felt the dynamics between the characters, mother-daughter, was made complicated for the sake of it, and it felt superfluous. At some point, you think of Layla's age of being 36, and how her wits should have caught onto her as well.

Honestly, my favourite character was Sultan, the cat. Not to leave it on a negative note, but I enjoyed the aspects of exploring storytelling through different lenses of gender, class, textile, and how it tethers traditions and sometimes breaks them apart too.

End.

⭐️⭐️⭐️💫 (3.75/5)

In "The Sufi Storyteller," Faiqa Mansab weaves a beautiful tale exploring the power of storytelling and the profound wisdom of Sufism. The story follows a young woman, Shabnam, who embarks on a journey to connect with her roots and understand her past through the narratives passed down by a wise Sufi master. As she delves into the tales of her ancestors and the lessons they carry, Shabnam discovers not just her heritage but also the importance of compassion, love, and the spiritual quest.

Mansab's prose is rich and evocative, transporting readers to the heart of the cultural and spiritual landscape of the characters. While the pacing can be a bit slow at times, the heartfelt messages and the intricate storytelling make it a worthwhile read. The way the author intertwines folklore with contemporary issues adds depth to the narrative. Overall, it’s a moving exploration of identity and the healing power of stories, earning it a solid 3.75 stars!

Thank you to NetGalley and Unbound for an eArc of this book in exchange for a honest, unbiased review!

This was quite an interesting book. I really liked Mansab's writing style, it was quite poetic and lovely to read.

Layla is a lecturer at a college, teaching stories about women. Then we have Mira, who is a Sufi storyteller.
I will not mention how and if they are related to increase the thrill.
A murder is committed and the two make use of Sufi storytelling to solve the mystery, and explore their own lives.
The Sufi aspect was the highlight for me. It was a brilliant idea to use that aspect as a narrative device.
Overall, this was 3 stars enjoyment for me. I cannot wait to see what Mansab does next because of the promise this book had.

Faiqa Mansab wrote this perfectly, it had that element that I was looking for and enjoyed from this type of book. The characters worked well and enjoyed learning in the traditions for the mystery element. It was great to see the mother-daughter element in this book. It was everything that I was looking for and glad I got to read this.

While this wasn't the read for me, I have to say the writing is superbly descriptive and beautifully poetic.
The story flows because of how well the author tell the tale.
I actually was hooked more by how the story is told rather than what the story was.

What draw me to this book was the cover and the title. I am more of fantasy and speculative fiction reader, and I want to expand a bit of my horizon. This book seemed like a good pick, especially since it has such a strong link with stories.

Unfortunately, it fell short for me. I don't know if it was a 'not the right moment' kind of thing, if the book is simply not for me or something else. But I quickly realised it wasn"t going to be as interesting as I hoped for.

One of the reason is that, despite the book being sold as somewhat of an mystery novel, with a need to resolve a murder, it isn't so much at the centre of the story. Similarly, the reunion between mother and daughter is there, but it felt a bit shallow, distant. I guess I didn't get into this book with the right expectations.

It is well enough written, nothing that strike me as very engaging, but still good. Stories do play a big role in the narrative, but in a more scholarly way, erasing a bit of the mysticism and wonder for me. The book is using the murders as a tool to get the main character to explore herself, her past and the hollowness where her birth mother resided. Then they reunite, and we delve into the mother's past, before getting a sort of family drama reolsution (I am not using the word drama to be negative, the events are quite dramatic). The part of the stories in the resolution of the murder is there, but too structural for me, again.

In the end, this book is too much like a a reflexion about identity, family history and constructing ourselves. I love these kind of stories, but when it is not so much obvious, using a thin plot and characters to create that reflection. I prefer the other way around. So. Not a good fit for me, but it should be really enjoyable for people who like such stories !

Faiqa Mansab’s The Sufi Storyteller is an evocative tapestry of language and atmosphere, masterfully blending lyrical prose with vivid descriptions that transport readers across continents and into the realm of Story itself. Mansab’s writing is rich, immersive, and poetic, weaving a hypnotic rhythm that mirrors the traditions of Sufi storytelling. Each page resonates with a sensory depth—whether she is describing the intricate details of a small American college town or the rugged beauty of the Afghan mountains.

What truly sets this book apart is Mansab's command of language; her sentences flow with a fluidity that feels almost musical, drawing readers into a world where words hold both beauty and power. The layers of meaning embedded in the descriptions invite reflection and linger long after the final page. If you appreciate stories where the prose feels like art, The Sufi Storyteller is a must-read.