“Every lemon will bring forth a child, and the lemons will never die out.”
― Zoulfa Katouh
Zoulfa Katouh’s debut novel, As long as the Lemon Trees Grow is an emotional and heart wrenching novel that captures the harsh reality of war, human fatigue, and resilience of hope amidst barbaricity. The novel is set in the Syrian revolution and explains the readers various facets of the revolution by portrayal of a young pharmacist, Salama Kassab.
Salma Kassab’s world is shattered into pieces by the eruption of civil war.. What makes this story so compelling is the way Katouh balances the unimaginable horrors of war with an enduring sense of humanity, love, and perseverance.
The novel starts with Salama reluctantly volunteering in a hospital overwhelmed by war ridden patients, tending patients, checking traumatised survivors. Salma is breathing between the trauma of loss and survival. The war claimed the lives of her parents, her brother is missing and her pregnant sister in law Layla is solely dependent on her for security. Haunted by her past and terrified of her future, Salama is torn between staying to help her people and fleeing the country to protect what remains of her family.
As long as the Lemon Trees Grow captures a powerful psychological element through the character of Khawf– an imaginary companion of salma who plays the character of her fear and guilt. This element of magical realism serves not only as a coping mechanism for Salama but also as a window into the psychological toll of war.
The character of Khawf allows the readers to feel the depth of Salma’s situation.The novel’s title, As Long as the Lemon Trees Grow, comes from a Syrian saying that symbolizes endurance and hope: as long as the lemon trees grow, there is life. Katouh weaves this motif throughout the narrative, using it to remind readers that even amidst destruction, beauty can persist. Lemon trees, with their vibrant color and resilient nature, become a metaphor for Syria itself—a land rich in culture, history, and spirit that refuses to be erased.
Katouh’s prose is lyrical and cinematic, painting vivid scenes of both beauty and devastation. Her writing is deeply emotional, often poetic, but never sentimental. She draws readers into the sensory experience of war: the smell of smoke, the echo of bombs, the weight of silence after loss. Yet, she also gives us moments of tenderness and love, especially in Salama’s growing relationship with Kenan, a young man who dreams of documenting Syria’s truth through film. Their bond offers a glimmer of hope and normalcy amid the chaos.
The novel’s greatest achievement is its ability to humanize a conflict that is often reduced to statistics and headlines. Through Salama’s eyes, readers see not just the tragedy of war but the strength of ordinary people who choose compassion over despair. Katouh, herself of Syrian origin, writes with authenticity and urgency, transforming a story of pain into one of resilience and love.
