NATION OF STRANGERS

Forecasting a global trend toward existential homelessness, a journalist confronts the more personal impacts of losing a home.

After years spent warning of the spread of fascism, both in her native Turkey and worldwide, Temelkuran found herself in a hospital in Germany, diagnosed with homesickness. Facing the physical manifestations of emotions buried after leaving Turkey six years before, when threats to her life made staying untenable, she resolves to face the full reality of her departure—and her search for somewhere new—in a deeply personal series of letters. With journalist sensibility and an appreciation for linguistic precision and gravitas, she dons the label of “stranger” and extends it with compassion and curiosity to various individuals and groups whom she encounters in Berlin, London, Bergen, and beyond. While rooted in her personal journey back to herself, the relevance of Temelkuran’s message is sweeping: Countless humans have become or will soon become unhomed—morally, physically, or politically—as a result of the accelerating spread of oppressive political regimes, climate disasters, and economic inequality. Across creative, activist, and intellectual spaces, the author mines the uncertainty, grief, and distinct brand of shame and self-doubt with which these strangers live. Always with a foot in the material, from financial stress and wary glances, to unfamiliar seasons and residency permits, she connects ideas of home to those of maintaining a sense of self and dignity, even when facing inhumane treatments and others’ expectations of stoicism. The author dances delicately between urgent warnings and the humming undercurrent of hope and visionary resistance. For Temelkuran, the construction of a new home requires a radical honesty, faith in humanity, and, most importantly, the recognition, respect, and togetherness of strangers. With style, compassion, and even occasional humor, she draws readers into the company of strangers whose company just might salvage the moral fortitude of us all.

Tenderly cautionary, and bittersweetly encouraging.