As you can see from the cover images on my blog, the dustjacket for this remarkable book differs from the cover. The dustjacket on the left is an image of Damascus in 1925, while the cover is an image of Aleppo in 2012. The contrast between these two images is a sobering introduction to what is a very sobering book.

So, no, despite the story span of four generations, it's not your typical family saga. It's actually very difficult to read because there is so much violence and Cosgrove does not spare the reader some very confronting images.

Anoush, a journalist of Armenian heritage, was born in Lebanon but sent to the US to escape the violence when she was sixteen. Her story, narrated first person, begins in 1995 when she returns to Lebanon after the death of her uncle Sarkis, the last surviving member of her family. There is a UN war crimes tribunal being held, and she thinks she may be able to learn the truth about her father's actions during the Lebanese Civil War. His story and its antecedents unravel through chapters set before and during 1915 when the Armenian genocide took place; in 1925 in a refugee camp in the aftermath; and in 1982 during the civil war. The constant changing from one time period to another is unsettling and it makes it difficult to piece events together, but the structure reinforces the cruel messiness of life in the Middle East.

Anoush struggles with her own identity. Waiting for the ferry to Beirut, she jousts with her friend Dilek whose family have hosted her for a week on Cyprus. She brushes off Dilek's concerns about solo travel and the emotional cost of the trip:

'Thank your relatives again for me. Tessukur ederim. Is that how you say it?'

It strikes me as wrong even as I open my mouth. That I speak so readily the language of the people who killed my ancestors. Yet Dilek's aunts, uncles and cousins have been warm, overly hospitable. My own uncles are dead, my aunts lost to Turks or Kurds or Bedouin, cousins unborn. My father, mother, grandparents, all gone. Dilek didn't tell her family that I'm Armenian. I'm not myself anymore. (p.4)

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2021/12/20/bone-ash-sky-by-katerina-cosgrove/ ( )