Everything Sad Is Untrue

A youngster called Khosrou (whom everyone calls "Daniel") stands in front of a middle school classroom in Oklahoma and tries to tell a narrative. His account. But nobody takes a word he says seriously. He is seen by them as a hairy-armed, dark-skinned kid with a large butt and a funny-smelling lunch; he also makes stuff up and speaks about excrement a lot.

But from the moment he, his mother, and sister left Iran in the middle of the night, to family tales set in the jasmine-scented city of Isfahan, the palaces of semi-ancient kings, and even the land of stories, Khosrou's stories span years, decades, and even centuries. They are both beautiful and terrifying.

We jump from a school bus full of children brandishing spitballs and paper clip missiles to the former heroines and heroes of Kosrou's family, who touched carpets woven with priceless diamonds and ate pastries that brought them to tears.

Author Daniel Nayeri crafts a story about Khosrou attempting to establish his claim to the truth in order to preserve his own life, much like Scheherazade in a hostile classroom. It is (a genuine tale), as well.

Daniel owns it.