Book Review: As Long As the Lemon Trees Grow

⭐️⭐️

Book Review: As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow

⭐️⭐️

I really wanted to love As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow. The premise—a novel set against the backdrop of the Syrian revolution—is an important one, and there are so few books in mainstream fiction that attempt to tell this story. The author, Zoulfa Katouh, was only 18 when she wrote it, which is an incredible achievement, and there are glimpses of promise in her writing. The manifestation of fear in trauma as a physical character was particularly well developed and hinted at the depth of storytelling she might be capable of in future works.

However, despite my hopes, I found the book disappointing in several ways. The story seemed to rely too much on familiar tropes, and it was hard to ignore the clear similarities between a key plot twist and the one in Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine. Rather than offering something fresh, it felt as though real events had been pulled together from news articles without much deeper engagement. Historical fiction has the potential to educate and illuminate, particularly when set in a time and place that is not widely written about, yet this book missed the opportunity to offer a richer, more nuanced portrayal of the Syrian conflict.

One of the biggest challenges I had while reading was the repetition. It often felt like being caught in a wheel, circling through the same phrases and scenarios without any additional depth each time. This extended to the book’s central metaphor—the lemon trees. The inclusion of Nizar Qabbani’s poem at the start filled me with hope, as his words carry so much weight and beauty, but the novel’s use of the lemon trees analogy became overdone to the point of losing its impact rather than tying the story together meaningfully.

There was also a significant distortion of historical events. While it’s understandable that fiction allows for creative liberty, the timeline of real-life occurrences was altered so much that it became distracting. It felt caught between historical fiction and pure invention in a way that didn’t quite work—perhaps either fully committing to reality or embracing a fictionalised version more completely would have helped.

The book’s strongest moments were those where the writing slowed down and let the characters’ emotions breathe, and I truly believe that if the author trusts her own voice more in future works—rather than borrowing heavily from other stories or news sources—her storytelling will improve. There is definitely potential here, and I hope that in her next book, she leans into her own original ideas and develops her characters with greater depth.

Though this wasn’t the book for me, I admire Katouh’s ambition in tackling such an important subject. It’s clear she cares deeply about the story she is telling, and with time and experience, I believe she has the ability to write something truly powerful.