Let us not live in ignorance is a quite fascinating book for anyone wanting to get a sense for the cultural diversity and conflicts which arise out of today’s Middle East in other countries, in particular the USA. In this book, those conflicts are explored not through violence and terror, but the more everyday and lasting areas of friendship and love. The two central relationships in the book cross different kinds of social and personal boundaries – one in a much harder and more profoundly radical way than the other – and Anastasia does not avoid the difficulties that arise from all that.

My own knowledge of the Middle East is largely rooted in the ancient world, but issues of cultural difference have always been important there. So when I came across Anastasia’s book, and realised what the subject matter was, it was a must-read. However, contemporary romance books are not my normal fare, so I had to get myself used to the conventions of the genre. The central characters are described as total paragons of physical perfection, with intellect and ethics to match. It took me a little while to realise that these descriptions are simply part of the literary style of this form, and that I didn’t have to feel inadequate or out of place myself! Nor that Anastasia was necessarily describing real Americans, Lebanese, etc – from my albeit slightly distant knowledge of the US I am pretty sure she is not! She is thinking about what might happen when idealised representatives of these cultures encounter one another, with a sincere desire to meet on a deep and intimate, rather than superficial and prejudicial level. Seen in that way, the profound difficulties in both of the relationships stand out all the more, since they are placed in a context of being open to relationship rather than closed to it.

It is clear that Anastasia is writing out of direct experience, especially in passages where people react in ignorance, naively clumping together quite different groups of people and ideas. She has a passionate desire that her readers would understand the diversity of culture within any one of the countries she speaks of, wanting to move away from simplistic stereotypes which tend to dominate the media. We like to think that here in the UK we are a little more aware of this, and most likely the average Briton has more personal interaction with this diversity than the average American. But it is, I think, a line of thought that is well worth revisiting, and there are plenty of people and families in this country and others, who grapple with cross-cultural issues on a daily basis.

For my part, this book has helped renew the sense that the diversity issues I like to explore in the ancient world are still active and vivid today. I shall return to my own writing with a renewed sense that these things are well worth exploring in any era, and that many of the same situations recur over and over again.

The book kept me reading eagerly right to the end, especially as it was unclear how – or even if – one particular situation was going to be resolved. I don’t have the experience to say whether it is a good book purely as a contemporary romance, and I don’t think that that genre is one which I am especially drawn to. All things considered, I prefer to read and write about other times than our own. So on those grounds I am giving Let us not live in ignorance four stars rather than five, but the lack might well be in me rather than the book. If the exploration of friendship and love across cultural and religious divides interests you, or if you enjoy contemporary romances, then this is a book to be read.

I’ll be posting the review as usual to Amazon, Goodreads etc before too long…