Written with immense sensitivity and depth of knowledge, The Good Deed takes us to the heart of what it means to be a refugee, the devastation and loss, but also the strength and resilience. It brought tears to my eyes and hope to my heart.”—Christy Lefteri, author of Songbirds and The Beekeeper of Aleppo
"The novel comes to an emotional conclusion, reminding us that hope is still to be found in the most desolate of places and prompting the reader to consider why and how we ask a person to prove their own humanity. An insightful reminder of our responsibilities to one another, more important now than ever."—Kirkus Reviews
"Benedict’s haunting, timely novel traces the intense journeys of female refugees as their paths collide with a vacationing tourist... (This) true-to-life novel resonates, particularly in the characters’ moments of fortitude in the face of brutal experiences of heartbreak and loss."—Booklist
“In The Good Deed, Helen Benedict offers a poignant, layered novel on displacement and belonging, love and betrayal, and the jagged space between altruism and egoism.”—Dalia Sofer, author of The Septembers of Shiraz and Man of My Time
"Benedict revisits the terrain of her nonfiction title Map of Hope and Sorrow for a complex and heartbreaking story of Syrians living at a refugee camp on the Greek island of Samos...Each of the characters’ perspectives is nuanced and carefully wrought. Benedict has crafted an involving tale of a humanitarian crisis."—Publishers Weekly
"Ultimately, The Good Deed is neither cynical nor depressing but hopeful. It’s about the triumph of the human spirit, about ordinary people who survive not because they’re superheroes but because they seize upon moments of good fortune, help each other, and refuse to give up."—Washington Independent Review of Books
2024-01-20
Set in 2018, Benedict’s latest follows a group of women who have sought refuge on the Greek island of Samos.
The book begins with the frantic rescue of an infant found at sea by Hilma, an American tourist recuperating from a mysterious trauma suffered at her home in New York. Switching among Hilma’s perspective and the voices of four refugees living in a sprawling, squalid refugee camp, the novel depicts the crises of each woman. Amina is a 19-year-old who has been recently released from one of Bashar al-Assad’s torturous prisons in Syria, haunted by the past and longing for her mother. Leila, a Syrian widow with two young sons, is desperately trying to locate her daughter, Farah, and infant granddaughter, captured by smugglers in Turkey. Nafisa, a Sudanese woman who has endured civil war, gang rape, and the murder of her family, is suffering from increasingly poor health. Reversing Homer’s Odyssey, Benedict illustrates the obstacles each refugee faces in her quest to leave home, capturing the myriad tragedies that have befallen them in frank but empathetic prose. The stark contrast between the refugees’ stories and Hilma’s attempts—following her “good deed”—to become a savior only exposes the egotism of her mission. The reader is invited to witness both the hostility with which European countries receive Black and brown refugees and the performativity of white guilt. Revealing the ways racism has been systemically encoded in law and the seemingly Sisyphean task of being granted refuge, Benedict interrogates the constructions of race, nationality, and human-made borders. As the roads of the refugees and Hilma converge, the novel comes to an emotional conclusion, reminding us that hope is still to be found in the most desolate of places and prompting the reader to consider why and how we ask a person to prove their own humanity.
An insightful reminder of our responsibilities to one another, more important now than ever.
