The novel begins with an introduction to the character of Zelihah, whose bold and fierce nature really means that she actually does not need an introduction at all, ironically. At nineteen years old, Zelihah is pregnant: a fact which, despite originally viewing as a burden, she eventually accepts as a duty. For Elif Shafak, however, space and time are forces to be reckoned with and not a burden.
We are swiftly transported to Arizona where Rose, freshly divorced and vindictive, has a baby girl who she had with an Armenian man, choses to pursue a Turkish man. Fast forward approximately nineteen years later: Asya is in a home which epitomises female uniqueness, whether for bad or for good, able to flourish without the presence of a man, culminating in a bubble of clashing personalities and individuality which defies all odds by not bursting by accepting differences. Moody and rebellious, with a religion dedicated to Johnny Clash, Asya is the blueprint of teenage rebellion and the example of the result of too much, but perhaps not the correct kind of, attention, received by the likes of Zelihah and the other women in the family. Asya’s actions are acknowledged like a falling pin in a silent room, but misunderstood like a puppy who tears up her toys because they are are bored, but not because they are teething: leaving her withdrawn into her shell.
Where does Armanoush come into all of this?! Well, Zelihah’s family has concluded that it is held under a curse against all the men in the family, so her sole brother fled Turkey to Arizona, before being hand picked by Rose, originally as a checkmate piece in her game of chess against Armanoush’s father’s family. Now nnineteen years old, Armanoush has questions about her heritage, thus visiting Zelihah’s family in Istanbul. Originally turning her nose up to Armanoush like a dog who was expecting her bowl to be filled with food but instead is done so with water, Asya is initially hostile towards Armanoush, before the two form a mutually beneficial bond, discovering both the beautiful and the ugly.
Along the way, we encounter some of the most absurd characters, without ever knowing their real names. Therefore, just as Elif Shafak defies the norms of space and time, she does so with yet another aspect of life that we believe to be necessary in order to abide by: names. Such characters include: the “Closeted-Gay Communist”, the “Dipsomaniac Cartoonist”, the “Exceptionally Untalented Poet”, and the “Nationalist Scenarist of Ultranationalist Movies”, perhaps an allusion to how, just like the protagonists, we are not defined by our heritage, but rather how we are perceived in the present. Although the protagonists are both burdened by a lack of knowledge about their past, we still feel like we know them fully. This is a book of adjectives. All of the characters are antonyms of each other. All of the adjectives are in the same dictionary, as the characters are in the story: a rich discourse is made of these adjectives, so the same goes for with these characters.