Never married, living with an Iraqi-immigrant uncle and devoted dog, and working as a chef in a Lebanese restaurant, thirty-nine-year-old Sirine finds her life turned upside down by a handsome Arabic literature professor who not awakens unexpected feelings but also stirs up memories of her parents and questions about her Arab-American identity. By the author of Arabian Jazz. It's a positive relief to read a novel that treats Iraqis as real people. Diana Abu-Jaber's second novel, Crescent , is set in Los Angeles and peopled by immigrants and Iraqi-Americans. Thirty-nine-year-old, half-Arab Sirine is a chef in a Lebanese restaurant. Her uncle works at the university with Han, an Iraqi-born academic who begins frequenting Sirine's restaurant, drawn by her beauty and her exquisite cooking. Part of the book's charm is in its determination to impart the sheer glamour of Arabia, here personified in Han's face: "Sirine watches Han and for a moment it seems that she can actually see the ancient traces in Han's face, the quality of his gaze that seems to originate from a thousand-thousand years of watching the horizon--a forlorn, beautiful gazing, rich and more seductive than anything she has ever seen." Too, the book addresses head-on the one-dimensional view Americans possess of Iraq. I used to read about Baghdad in Arabian Nights ," says one American character. "It was all about magic and adventurers. I thought that's what it was like there. And when I got older Baghdad turned into the stuff about war and bombs--the place on the TV set. I never thought about there being any kind of normal life there." As she falls more deeply in love with Han, Sirine discovers that part of being Iraqi now means learning to live with not knowing: not knowing where people have disappeared to, not knowing if your family is alive or dead. In the book's thrilling, romantic denouement, these lessons come perilously close to Sirine's Los Angeles home. Crescent brings alive a vibrant community of exiled academics, immigrants on the make, and optimistic souls looking for love. --Claire Dederer In this follow-up to Abu-Jaber's justly praised debut, Arabian Jazz, spinsterish Sirine lives to cook until a charming Arabic literature professor shows up in her restaurant. Big foreign sales. Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc. *Starred Review* Sirine's now-deceased missionary parents were Iraqi and American; she's been raised since she was nine by her beloved Iraqi uncle. Her world is his house, the cafe where she is chef, and the air of Los Angeles. She's nearly 40, and inside her pale skin and green eyes she feels the rhythms of her uncle's Arabic stories and the scent of Eastern spices. Hanif ("Han"), a professor of Arabic literature at the local university, comes to the cafe for the tastes of home, and he and Sirine fall into an affair of wild, sweet tenderness. After 20 years away, Han is driven, despite Saddam, to return to Iraq to see if anything is left of his family. Sirine is devastated and feels responsible. Each chapter begins with an installment of a fantastical family story told by Sirine's uncle; the rest of the novel is written in the present tense. Abu-Jaber's language is miraculous, whether describing the texture of Han's skin or Sirine's way with an onion. It is not possible to stop reading. GraceAnne DeCandido Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved Crescent is a rich, delicious concoction that has you rooting for the star-crossed lovers. -- John Muncie, The Baltimore Sun A bewitching and timely novel about Iraq, love and the loneliness of exile....a novel at once timely and timeless. -- Andria Spencer, The Oregonian Abu-Jaber affirms the precious fragility of life, love, family, and the human community in meaningful ways. -- Sena Jeter Naslund Abu-Jaber is a high-spirited, magnificently graceful storyteller, a poet of deliciously fluted fiction, character, and culture. -- Naomi Shihab Nye Abu-Jaber's language is miraculous....It is not possible to stop reading. -- Booklist starred review Radiant, wise, and passionate. . . . [Abu-Jaber] never for an instant relinquished her grip on this willingly enchanted reader. -- Beth Kephart, Chicago Tribune Readers stuffed on headlines but still hungering for something relevant will enjoy this rich meal. -- Ron Charles, Christian Science Monitor Wise, spirited, and evocative, this work offers an ardent look at the human side of political cant. -- Library Journal [A] beautifully imagined and timely novel. -- Publishers Weekly [A] lovely tale...an urgent mix of Scheherazade-style storytelling and treatise on the loneliness of exile. -- Oregonian , Andrea Spencer Diana Abu-Jaber lives in Portland, Oregon, and teaches at Portland State University. Still has library markings including card pocket.