Reviewed by Ian Thomas Shaw
In 1986, Muna Heddad and her young son Omar arrive in Montreal, fleeing the horrors of the Lebanese civil war. The city offers safety, but also its own barriers. Muna had hoped to find work as a French teacher, but Quebec's linguistic gatekeeping and local prejudices deny her that opportunity. Instead, she takes a job as a "hotline operator" at a weight-loss centre, where she must juggle the roles of nutritionist, confidante and salesperson.
Rebranding herself as 'Mona' to mask her foreignness, she spends her days listening to callers unburden themselves of their troubles—failed relationships, grief and isolation. While she lends a sympathetic ear to strangers, her personal life remains fraught. She struggles to raise Omar in a new culture, while haunted by memories of the war and her husband's disappearance just before their planned escape from Beirut. Muna's journey is a delicate balancing act, caught between the weight of her past and the challenges of her present.
Nasrallah masterfully evokes Muna's inner world, juxtaposing her sense of alienation in Canada with vivid memories of Lebanon. His prose moves seamlessly between these two dimensions, capturing moments of anguish, resilience and quiet beauty—whether it's Muna's awe at her first snowfall or the tentative warmth of new friendships. The contrast between her struggles as Muna, the caring but worried mother, and her small triumphs as Mona, the aspiring businesswoman, highlights the dualities of the immigrant experience with nuance and sensitivity.
One of the novel's outstanding achievements is Nasrallah's remarkable ability to channel the voice of a Lebanese immigrant woman. Muna's perspective is rendered with authenticity and depth, and her emotions and challenges resonate vividly. Nasrallah's sensitive storytelling brings her struggles to life, inviting the reader into her intimate journey of adjustment and self-discovery.
The inclusion of numerous Lebanese Arabic expressions enriches the novel's cultural texture, but poses occasional challenges for readers unfamiliar with this Arabic dialect. The lack of a glossary or paraphrasing hampers accessibility, especially when Levantine colloquialisms are relied upon so heavily that even a reader with a fair knowledge of Arabic is left puzzled. While this choice enhances the authenticity of Muna's voice, it limits the novel's reach to a wider audience.
As the story unfolds, Muna's resilience and adaptability shine through, offering a poignant reflection on the immigrant experience - the uncertainty of starting over, the strength needed to persevere, and the moments of triumph that make it all worthwhile. By the end of the novel, Muna's hard-won sense of hope feels both earned and inspiring.
Hotline is a deeply human story, both specific in its cultural context and universal in its themes of displacement, perseverance and belonging. Nasrallah's tender, perceptive prose ensures that Muna's voice lingers long after the final page.
Hotline is published by Véhicule Press.
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