No Ballet Shoes in Syria (by Catherine Bruton)

I don’t remember why I put this book on my wishlist late last year. Maybe Amazon recommended it to me, based on other books I had read or ordered, but I think it may have been a personal recommendation. I had never heard of Catherine Bruton, and I don’t often decide to read modern children’s books, although some are excellent. But ‘No Ballet Shoes for Syria’ sounded intriguing, and I was delighted to be given it for a recent birthday.

The heroine of this book is 11-year-old Aya, an asylum seeker in the UK. We meet her in a busy community centre at the start of the book, hearing ballet music from upstairs, and the faint voice of a teacher. Aya is evidently a dancer herself, although she has not been to classes for a long time now. Instead, with her mother (who is not well) and her small brother, she’s trying to understand paperwork and apply for refugee status.

Aya can’t resist going to look through the doors of the ballet class, and catches the attention of a friendly girl called Dotty. But it’s not until she finds herself dancing in frustration one day that she is invited to join the class. Clearly she has talent as well as dedication and a passion for ballet, and the main part of the story is about her gradual acceptance by others in the class, and the struggles she has to follow her her heart.

There are some happy coincidences - the head of the ballet school was herself a refugee many years earlier - and Aya has a good share of luck, although I felt she deserved every bit of it. At just eleven she looks after her brother competently, translates for her mother, answers questions, and takes on the responsibility that would normally have been her father’s…

At the end of each chapter there is an italic section, recounting Aya’s life before arriving in the UK. She lived in Aleppo in Syria, where she had friends, and went to school, and started learning ballet. War broke out when her mother was still pregnant with her brother, so the family didn’t leave as promptly as they would have liked. Her father had once worked in the UK so that’s where they were heading, but first they had to travel to Turkey, and then to Greece.

We don’t learn what happened to her father until nearly the end of the book; Aya clearly adored him, and she remembers much of what he told her, the way he treated her almost as another adult. She doesn’t understand what’s wrong with her mother, but she accepts her responsibility and is willing to give up her dreams if necessary.

It’s a well-written book with believable people, and the alternating present/past storylines work well. My only slight puzzlement is that I didn't understand the book's title; Aya did have ballet shoes in Syria, after all, and they were one of the few things she managed to bring with her when she left.  But it doesn't much matter.

Aya is a likeable person who has gone through some traumatic experiences, most of which are not described in any detail. She knows that she hides some of them when she tells her new friends about her journey. So there’s nothing to traumatise a young child - and much to help them understand a little of what life as an asylum seeker might be like. She experiences prejudice (in fairly mild ways) as well as a great deal of worry and stress, but it’s expressed in the kind of language that could be understood by children of about eight or nine and upwards.

Reading as an adult, I liked the book very much. I would recommend it to anyone wanting to know more about asylum seekers from a child’s point of view; I expect thoughtful teenagers would like this too. The ballet theme, and the fact that Aya and her friends are all girls means that this will probably appeal more to girls than to boys, but it’s suitable for anyone.

Review copyright 2020 Sue's Book Reviews