Introduction
Written by the Turkish author Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love embarks on a rather peculiar journey. Or an unfamiliar one for those who know Rumi only through his poetry.
I wasn't formally introduced to this book. I was reading a different title by Elif Shafak, 10 Minutes and 38 Seconds in this Strange World (a few months ago) when my Operations Director at my previous workplace tapped on my shoulder, "I got a glimpse of the author you were reading, you should definitely read The Forty Rules of Love."
I scrambled to my faithful Goodreads to make a note of the book and here we are. I, recounting the incident, and you, reading the review.
The Plot
The novel runs two stories. One is of a forlorn housewife in denial that love in her marriage ended years ago. Two, Rumi's transformation after meeting his spiritual companion, Shams of Tabriz.
Fret not, Ella our housewife-in-denial works part-time at a publishing house. Her task? She is handed over a fresh manuscript, Sweet Blasphemy written by a Sufi from Amsterdam, Aziz who is a travel photographer. As she reads through the manuscript, she is stunned by the timing and rules of love she learns. For the first time, she acknowledges the damsel-in-distress that she is. Something in her pushed her to send the author an email.
Now where do these 40 rules come from you ask? From Shams of course! A wandering dervish. Destined to teach Rumi what love is all about. It is strange to learn that Rumi as we all know him for his poetry is being taught what love is.
This is the gist of the plot. I will not ruin the story by saying more. But let's look at some of the strong points and weaknesses of the story. You can be the judge of whether this book is your cup of tea.
The Review
Faves | Not So Faves |
A great start | Level of relatability varies |
Introspective | Gets slow in the middle |
A different perspective | Need to take your time to read it |
Gets thrilling at the end | Be mature enough to understand it |
So that was my review of The Forty Rules of Love by Elif Shafak. This information should suffice. Buy the book or read more for spoilers and what went through my brain while I read the book.
Proceed with Caution.
Now that I have thrown enough caution to the wind. You can safely move forward.
Reflecting on the Story
On the shallow surface, I often found myself dreading trying to finish the novel. Considering I took 2 months to finish reading it. Characteristically a slow and picky reader, I wanted to push myself to finish what I had started. If Elif Shafak had won my heart the first time with 10 Minutes and 38 Seconds in this Strange World, her more famous work should be given the benefit of the doubt.
I confess. I don't remember all the 40 rules of love that Shams so generously gave away. It may be the fault of my memory or I find myself too young to grasp the concept of love in its entirety. His ways are unconventional and for someone with so little knowledge of Sufism, rather pleasing and outrageous at the same time. Wondering if we can ever apply these rules in the modern world or if the ideas are too idealist and spiritual in an era where we are forever in survival mode.
Rumi was the brighter side of the moon and Shams of Tabriz the dark side of the moon, often hidden away from us all. After Ella's encounter with Sweet Blasphemy and Aziz, she carefully ventures onto the darker side of the moon that she, for twenty years of her marriage had been actively ignorant about.
Self-reflection
It was on page 287 that I put the book down to truly speculate the underlying story and connections that Rumi and Ella could have. They both met their Shams of Tabriz, they had transformed, they unraveled and pondered and mulled over parts of themselves they did not dare to seek by themselves.
What troubled me more was the story of unrequited love. Call it yearning or inquisitiveness to find out how the subservient characters would react to when they finally accepted reality or what they would do if they found their stubborn, more rebellious side.
I simply cannot decide if it is now more than ever that we submit ourselves to the state of nothingness or if we still have some amount of fight left in us to oppose the system where everything is built to keep the struggling in the struggle.
Alas, more such thoughts pry my mind as I slouch on my couch on a rather pleasant Saturday morn. How we have romanticized Rumi with his poems, imitable and inimitable. Throwing two or four lines here and there. So grab attention and a few likes. And equating it to 'love' from our readers. Far easier.
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