Sahar and Nasrin have been in love since they were children. They're complete opposites--Sahar is quiet, studious, and steadfast, while Nasrin is popular, dramatic, and spoiled--but their love has lasted in secret for eleven years. The girls both know what the Iranian government thinks of people like them, and so they say nothing of their relationship. But when the string of Nasrin's suitors that they think of as no more than an annoyance suddenly turns into one man--one fiancee--they cannot go on as they always have. Sahar needs a way to take back her girlfriend. She finds a solution that sounds perfect--in Iran, sex reassignment surgery is encouraged for those who feel born in the wrong body. Sahar will do anything for Nasrin, even this.
Among not enough LBGT books are even less books that deal with the T. This isn't just a book about gay teenagers, it's also about transgender people. Sahar meets several throughout the book, and they all have unique and interesting stories. For some, it was the best choice they ever made. For others, they're struggling a lot. All experience discrimination. As Iranians, their experience is different from Americans'. In general, it's good to see the full four letters in one book.
Farizan does an amazing job of describing and depicting the danger of being gay in Iran. The lives of people with different levels of transparency show all the challenges and horrors. Sahar mentions throughout the book a pair of boys who were publicly hanged on charges of rape, but everyone suspected that it was because they were boyfriends. Sahar has a gay cousin named Ali (the kind of character you must both love and hate, as Sahar does) who has built himself a circle of people who don't mind him. His friends know the truth and that's all--he should be in a great situation. And yet he makes his money selling everything under the Iranian sun that is illegal. And then there's Sahar herself, completely hidden from all but Nasrin and Ali. She's unhappy, an outcast. But, as long as she can stay secret, she's safe.
If You Could Be Mine spools out with multiple amazing tangles in the thread--so many twists and surprises; always something to keep you going "ACK!" and "Noooo!" and "At last!" The speed builds subtly as the end approaches. I wondered the whole time--was Sahar really going to go through with the surgery? Would she really do it? Was she brave enough? What would Nasrin think? What about Sahar's baba? And the last chapter--well, it's a book in itself. I started out trying not to laugh hysterically in class, and then it ended up--anyway. I don't want to give it away.
Farizan's got a great voice. Some of the sentences were awkwardly constructed, but I can forgive her somewhat for inserting lines of internal monologue like, "I didn't expect her to be such a donkey butt." Some of Sahar's self-deprecating thoughts are awful to read, but she's also hilarious--and realistic.
Most of the characters are amazing. Sahar, as I just said, is funny and realistic. She has a gradient of good to bad, like everyone. She's capable of both horrible thoughts and deep loyalty. As someone who has finished the book, I can say that I believe that there is hope for Sahar in the future. I'm glad; she's a wonderful person. Sometimes her own self-deprecating thoughts were hard to read because of how much I, as the reader, knew that they weren't true--but that they were inevitable all the same. I don't know how much of herself Farizan used when creating Sahar, but the author and her main character definitely have a personal connection.
Ali, too, is a strong character. He's so horrible, but so lovable. Black market dealer and caring cousin--a challenge when it comes to sorting out your feelings about him. In the end, I think he's a "good guy", if a troubled one.
And I am a Parveen fan. Parveen is fabulous, as I am sure you will agree when you have read this book.
But a character who was not so strong was Nasrin. Farizan tried to create a character who was really annoying and yet too compelling to stop loving, but Nasrin just ended up being inconsistent. At times I could totally see why Sahar loved her, and at times I was yelling, "DITCH HER!!!!" Sometimes I thought that Nasrin loved Sahar, too, but sometimes she seemed like she was completely faking it, just to make Sahar happy. And was all her fashion and popularity posturing, or was it the real Nasrin? Farizan managed to excuse a couple of these as Sahar's own confused perceptions of her lifelong best friend and love, but most of them failed. The book is in first person, but no one--especially not brilliant Sahar--is thick enough to project such an impossible character onto the reality of Nasrin. No, the Nasrin depicted in If You Could Be Mine is the actual character, as much as can be said about any non-narrator in a first-person story, and overall she is not realistic. Her many personalities work by themselves, but when you put them together, you get a mess of clumsy characterization.
The overall writing of the book is not perfect, either--as I said, a few awkward bits of sentence structure, where I stopped, squinted at the page, and mentally rearranged the words into something that sounded better.
In short, I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a story that puts the T in LGBT and/or set in a less accommodating country than ours. Sara Farizan writes with cultural knowledge, being both gay and the daughter of Iranians. It's not the most amazing book out there, but it's unique and important.
P.S. Here's an interview with the author about this book:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lrBUHHjslFs