Why Is Useful Considered A Must-Read Novel?

There's a quiet magic in 'An Unnecessary Woman' that sneaks up on you like the scent of old books in a secondhand shop. Alameddine’s protagonist, Aaliya, is this fiercely introverted 72-year-old Beirut woman who’s spent decades translating literature she never publishes—just for the love of it. At first glance, her life seems small, almost tragic, but the way she navigates loneliness, war, and societal dismissal becomes this radical act of resilience. The book isn’t just about her; it’s about how art sustains us when people fail to. Her voice is so wry and layered—you’ll find yourself laughing at her sharp observations one moment, then gutted by her vulnerability the next. What makes it essential, though, is how it reframes 'unnecessary' as a kind of freedom. Aaliya’s ignored by her family and community, but that very marginalization lets her live unconventionally, dissecting everything from Proust to pop culture with equal ferocity. The novel dances between her past (Beirut’s golden era, the civil war) and her present (hoarding books in a crumbling apartment), showing how translation—both literal and emotional—becomes her survival tactic. It’s a love letter to outsiders who carve meaning in the margins, and that’s why it lingers. Plus, the prose? Like sipping dark coffee—bitter, rich, and impossible to rush.

The main theme of 'Useful' revolves around the idea of finding purpose in seemingly mundane or overlooked aspects of life. The protagonist, often an ordinary person, stumbles upon something small—a tool, a skill, or even a relationship—that transforms their worldview. It’s not just about utility in the practical sense but how meaning can be derived from the simplest things. The author weaves this through subtle character arcs, where growth isn’t dramatic but incremental, like polishing a stone until it shines. What really struck me was how the story avoids grandiosity. Even the title, 'Useful,' feels intentional in its humility. It’s not about changing the world but changing how one interacts with it. The secondary theme of interconnectedness comes through, too—how one person’s 'useless' skill might save another’s day. It’s a quiet celebration of the understated, and that’s what makes it resonate long after the last page.