#ReadingResistance - Part 2

There has been a lot of back and forth between the US Executive Office and federal courts since the issuance of Executive Order 13759, signed January 27, 2017.  This first order which suspended US entries of citizens from Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, and Yemen.  In fact, various parts of the first order were enjoined by various district courts and courts of appeals, most noticeably in Washington State v. Trump.  So much confusion and public outcry led to a replacement of the first order to a second attempt, Executive Order 13780.  This order restricted nationals of Iran, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, and Yemen unless they are lawful permanent residents of the United States, have visas that were valid as of January 27, 2017, or receive a case-by-case waiver.  Furthermore, Iraq was removed from the list of banned countries. Heightened screening and extreme vetting still require federal agencies, such as the State Department and the US Department of Homeland Security to develop strengthened screening procedures and criteria for populations warranting increased security.  Such immigration actions have caused decreased interest in travel to the US. Emirates Airlines has cut flights to the US by 20% because of the order and a recent ban on using electronics on flights from some ME countries, including Jordan. More importantly, tourism experts estimate that 4.3 million fewer visitors will travel to the US in 2017, resulting in a loss of $7.4 billion." The predictions for 2018 show an increased loss of $10.8 billion. (Cowger, Bolter, and Pierce, 2017. "The First 100 Days: Summary of Major Immigration Actions Taken by the Trump Administration," Migration Policy Institute Fact Sheet. Washington, DC: Migration Policy Institute).

So, even though it has been 5 months, the immigration debate still rages on both sides.  It is confusing for those of us with MENA connections.  As far as interior enforcement of immigration laws, reportings on and arrests of noncitizens has increased, with several cities in at least 33 states have debated or enacted legislation preventing the enactment of such measures (so called, Sanctuary Cities). 

All of the above is our concern as citizens of the world. I am all for taking immigration precautions, but I also know first-hand that the vetting process is already rigorous, having gone through the immigration process with my spouse.  Our story, as well as other's I know, is full of difficult meetings, intimidation and thorough examination of every aspect of our personal lives.  It is hard to imagine a more rigorous system than the already existing immigration process. 

Again, how could I help?  I know books and authors.  I believe reading helps us understand the narratives of others.  The process of compiling #LIISSSY resources has given me a glimpse of the hardships that each country faces - exile, famine, persecution and death. It has helped me develop empathy. If you are afraid of the unknown, the only way to conquer that fear is to uncover what is unknown to you.  Reading is a safe way to learn about "the other."  Hopefully, in that process, you will also learn more about yourself.  

Enjoy the rest of the #LIISSSY lists.

 

#ReadingResistance

It began on Sunday, 28 January, when I read a post on one of my favorite blogs, Arabic Literature (in English) by M. Lynx Qualey: "Resist the Bans: Support Writers from Iraq, Syria, Iran, Sudan, Libya, Somalia, and Yemen."  This particular post was in reaction to harsher vetting for travelers from the named countries, a perceived prejudice of one religion over another, and overall misinformation about the facts.  Qualey shares how authors from Muslim-majority countries have not been granted visas for literature festivals and conferences, or how Skype "Authors in Residence" have been an alternative to complicated visa processing for some time now. 

Her post challenged me to take my own private stand in the very small world of IB School Libraries against recent changes in the US White House Administration. In particular, I was inspired by her thoughts:  

"The violence of such an executive act cannot be countered solely with art, or translation. Still, as Samah Selim notes, translation can be “a form of radical knowledge production.” We can also collaborate with, and listen to, literary voices, as well as forging supportive, enriching, properly compensated connections between writers and literary communities, thus resisiting the ban."

"Listen to literary voices" as a form of resistance? That is in my power to do.  As a librarian, I have found that reading books from other cultures and non-Western writers, most of them translated works, has made me more informed about global issues, more understanding of other narratives, and generally more empathetic toward members of the human race.

Now, reading is a form of resistance.  Once you have internalized something through reading, you cannot "unknow" it.  Whether it is love or hate, justice or prejudice, as William Wilberforce said:

“You may choose to look the other way but you can never say again that you did not know.” 

Thus begins #ReadingResistance.  Every day, I will curate and share with students and colleagues writing which is either translated or a re-telling of a personal narrative by each country on the #LIISSSY list. It's my very small contribution, my own act of resistance, in my library, in my school, in my world.  If you read one of these books or have a favorite, post it on Twitter with #ReadingResistance @Katsby90.

I begin with Libya.

The circle of friends around the White House is tightening, journalists are being attacked for asking the questions on the minds of a majority of Americans.  We have now been given a new newspeak for misinformation (alternative truth). I am reminded of a quote I read a long time ago, in a college course entitled, "Seventeenth-Century Prose and Poetry," a course I reckoned would be of interest to only a very few literary snobs and of relevance to none. The readings, as it turned out, are timeless and highly relevant. In an address to a newly-seated, populist Parliament, John Milton, somewhat an apologist for the Revolution, surprisingly delivers Areopagitica, with this being his final point of argument.

"Last, that it [censorship] will be primely to the discouragement of all learning, and the stop of Truth, not only by disexercising and blunting our abilities in what we know already, but by hindring and cropping the discovery that might bee yet further made both in religious and civill Wisdome."

In other words, words and books are not to be feared. They should not be silenced, for they sharpen our ability to think, to discover, and learn new ideas. When one reads, she invites a conversation into her mind. She has a dialogue that can and should make her a better person by challenging her acceptance of the status quo, of her own point of view, allowing her to enter into the sufferings of others with sure understanding.  #ReadingResistance is personal growth. #ReadingResistance is knowledge.  And as any good child of the 70s and 80s knows, "knowledge is power."

A Piece of Meat Is Not Sexy

Al-Ahdal, Wajdi (2008). Trans by W.M. Hutchins. A Land Without Jasmine. London: Garnet, 2012.

Many reviewers state this book is sexy.  No. It's not. Jasmine is a young woman, striving to live in a society that represses femininity, where men are either lecherous or clueless, when it comes to what a female wants. Jasmine describes herself as a piece of meat.  That is not sexy.

The plot surrounds the disappearance of Jasmine and the subsequent investigation by police.  Each chapter in the 82-page novella is told from a different point of view.  In addition to Jasmine's first chapter, there are 5 men who comment on her character and each reveals a bit more into the mystery of her disappearance.

Many reviewers have stated this book is a comment on coming of age in Yemeni society, and it is for Jasmine and Ali, whose childhood friendship was abruptly ended when Jasmine's father forces her to wear a veil after he discovers she has played soccer outside with neighborhood kids.  This interpretation seems a bit forced, especially when one considers that the author is a male.  I trust him to represent the male narrators in his book, but I don't trust any male author to authentically portray a woman's own knowledge of herself.  It's problematic.

To restrict the book to a social commentary on the repression of women in Yemen is to miss some larger issues.  The book can be seen as a political commentary on the state of war in Yemen. If one considers Jasmine as the embodiment of the mother country, especially given her interest in Balquis and the ancient culture of moon worship, this book can be read as a commentary on the various political factions, tribes and wars that are ripping up the very fabric of what was once a beautiful country. The men each desire Jasmine to achieve their own personal ends, which may also be argued regarding Yemen's political situation in 2008-the original Arabic publicatin date.

In another way, the book can be read as a social commentary on the purity of Islamic worship.  It seems that Al-Ahdal could be attempting to portray allegorically how human beings, men in particular, have a tendency to use religion (embodied, once again, by the pure Jasmine) to achieve their own ends.  Whenever humankind uses a body, a country, politics or religion to achieve their own ends, the body itself falls apart, perhaps disappearing in its purest form, to never be found again.  Maybe this is what happened to Jasmine.  The book has many possibilities.  Don't limit it hijabs and women's rights.  Women mean so much more.

I typically recommend "coming of age" novels to YA readers.  Not so with this book.  This is definitely for adults.

AWARDS
Winner of the 2013 Said Ghobash Banipal Prize for Arabic Literary Translation

METRO: A STORY OF CAIRO

This is a graphic novel that was banned in Egypt in 2008, so only an English translation is available for purchase.  It's loosely about some poor people who decide to take their rights through violence and corruption in a violent and corrupt city.  They get a bit hurt in some demonstrations, and there is a love interest for the main character.  The copy of the book I received from Metropolitan Books (New York: Henry Holt and Co.) is very difficult to read.  It seems to have been photocopied or printed in gray scale.  It would be much better if the panels were in a stronger black and light.  The story in fairly interesting.  The title METRO reflects how the story is told from one part of the city to another.  I am giving this 3 stars because it was dangerous for El Shafee to create this novel and put his name to it.  As far as the actual story, it was written in 2007 before the Arab Spring, so it is very prophetic and gives a voice to the Egyptian people before Arab Spring, perhaps giving credence to the events that took place in 2011. It would be a great resource for classroom teachers to use if discussing events that led up to Cairo 2011.

El Shafee, Magdy. Metro: a Story of Cairo. Trans. by Chip Rossetti. New York: Metropolitan Books, 2012. 

Desert Stories for Today

Al-Koni, Ibrahim. The Puppet: a Novel. Trans. William M. Hutchins. Austin, TX: Center for Middle Eastern Studies, 2010.

At 113 pages, The Puppet should be listed as “a book you can read in a day,” but it’s not. The book is the second book in The Saharan Oasis trilogy by Libyan writer Ibrahim Al-Koni. The New Waw, the first of the series, has garnered the American Literary Translation Association’s 2015 National Translation Award for translator William H. Hutchins, and Al-Koni has been longlisted as one of only 9 for the 2015 Man Book Prize. The Puppet is the second, and The Scarecrow ends the series; however, the books do not need to be read in order to make sense.

Al-Koni writes in a stream of consciousness style that is influenced by his Tuareg heritage, his university years studying comparative literature in Russia, journalist years in Poland, and finally his settling down in Switzerland. The Puppet is a unique blend of ancient story that draws on motifs that are quite applicable to modern times. Al-Koni explores the values of nomadic life against the dangers of complacency once a people decides to settle for life in an oasis. A world of duality and irony ensues, where both sages and vassels are willing to sacrifice personal freedom and wisdom for gold and commerce that ultimately enslaves them. Intertwined with their political maneuverings, a love story between a vassal and a beautiful maiden tells a story older than time, between men and women, between the desert and its people, revealing the chthonic duality of passion and annihilation, life and death.

When the people demanded a leader, I was reminded of the warning Samuel, the last judge of Israel, the last mouthpiece direct from God, gives to the Israelites when they demand a king. Life will change. You don’t know what price you will truly pay in asking for a human ruler. The divine will have its day.

I was reminded of The Sibyl by Swedish writer Par Lagerkvist who had a lifelong interest in gods and the relationship of the human to the divine. I was also reminded of Hesse who explored the duality of human nature, how as man moves further away from nature, he moves further away from himself.

Al-Koni eloquently captures the ease of surrender to nature, “You must relax and give your body totally to the water if you want to stay afloat. In the desert, too, arrogant people who act obstinately succumb. In the dessert those who think they have been granted enormous knowledge and who therefore debate and resist will perish. The desert takes vengeance on this group with its labyrinth. The other group, those who surrender control to the wasteland and seek the desert’s protection against the desert, survives.”

Al-Koni’s storytelling is particular to his time and tradition, but applies to any traveler, any people. Should we fight? Should we succumb? Should we live ethically? These questions are not answered. Only what must be considered. No, the book is not a short read at all. It demands another.

Behind Closed Doors in Amman

Four women and one man in modern-day Amman find their narratives intersect because, although Amman is a big city, it’s still a small world.

Zaghmout, Fadi. The Bride of Amman. Trans. Ruth Ahmedzai Kemp. Hong Kong: Signal 8 Media, 2015. ISBN: 9789881219893

WARNING:  For mature audiences only—graphic content.

Salma, unmarried at 30, fights against the stereotype of the Jordanian spinster, while her sister Leila is about to have it all—a degree, a career and a handsome and wealthy husband.  Her husband, Ali, has a dark secret he keeps well hidden.  Hayat, who knows Leila, has dark family secrets of her own, meets Samir who knows Ali’s secret.  Should she tell Leila or should they all be worried about their Christian friend Rana who has run off to Sweden with her Circassian boyfriend? 

This book was publicized as social commentary, and I began reading it as such.  As such, it bored me.  I didn’t care much for the voices I was hearing as their problems sounded shallow and self-obsessed.  I was drawn into the novel, however, bit by bit as the stories began to intertwine and the connections between the characters became more complicated.  Then, I was able to understand the complexities of the Jordanian families and friends I have met in Amman at a much more intimate level than I have previously understood.  Life isn’t easy in Amman, infamously known for the “Amman scowl,” but this book helps the reader understand how difficult it is for some modern Jordanians to put on a brave face and smile. 

Is the book a masterpiece of literary achievement? I don’t think so.  Is it enjoyable reading? Definitely, yes.  Does it pass the test of helping the reader step into someone else’s shoes and walk around in them? Definitely.  On that basis, it’s worth the 4 hours it takes to go through it.  

Next step, meet the author.  Fadi Zaghmout, where are you?  I want to have coffee.

Fadi's Blog: https://thearabobserver.wordpress.com/

It's a Small World

I have been waiting for this book to come out in English since 2012 when it won the International Prize for Arabic Fiction. Finally, finally, I received the English translation, made possible because of the prize.

Al Sanousi, Saud. The Bamboo Stalk. Trans by Jonathan Wright. Doha: Bloomsbury Qatar Foundation Publishing, 2015.
ISBN 9789927101779

Having lived in Kuwait for 8 years, I was intensely curious to see how a Kuwaiti man would tell the story of a boy whose father was Kuwaiti and whose mother, although the two were legally married, was still the result of the father's union with the family's Filipina maid.

As it turns out, Al Sanousi's tale is realistic, believable, and as heart-breaking as I thought it would be. Afraid of the shame the half-blood child will bring to the family name, the father is forced by his domineering mother to send the mother and son packing back to the islands, shortly before he goes missing in the 1990 invasion.

Jose grows up, fatherless in his motherland, never quite feeling complete, always dreaming of the day his father will make good on his promise to raise him as his legitimate Kuwaiti heir.

When that time arrives, Jose becomes Isa Al Tarouf, and is literally caught in the net of the Tarouf family reputation. What ensues is a Juvenalian satire of the state of class and race relations in Kuwait. Al Sanousi creates a microcosm of the microcosm that is Kuwait--with the bad, as well as so much that is good.

It is a first novel, so perhaps some of its elements are a bit contrived. For example, the attempt to connect the colonization of the Philippines to the lack of father figures, is a bit of a stretch, but it does ultimately work for the "islands" part of the story as it resolves. The main motif, the titular "bamboo stalk" is made a bit too obvious in places.

However, the historical backdrop and discussion of Bidoon and Kuwaiti politics from 2006-2008 was dead-on accurate, as I was teaching during those years and remember those elections quite well.

Was I surprised at the outcome of the novel? No. No, I wasn't.

Was I disappointed? Yes, I was.

Oh, Kuwait. You are a small world, indeed, as the book so clearly reminds us. I wish the novel would become required reading for all students in Kuwait; however, I fear the opposite may be more likely to happen. Tongues wag. Reputation is more important than money.

Haddad, Qassim. Trans. Ferial Ghazoul & John Verlenden. (2014). Chronicles of Majnun Layla & Selected Poems. Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press. ISBN: 9780815610373

This was a beautiful book in the Arabic tradition of Akhbar Majnun Layla, which the translators chose to phrase as the Chronicles of Majnun Layla. It is a common genre in Arabic literature about a man named Qays who wanders the desert, mad with desire for Layla, who he cannot have. I really enjoyed learning about the genre through this book. Haddad is a Bahraini poet, who elevates the tale beyond a Romeo and Juliet story into the story of a poet and the Word. It also reminded me a bit of Abelard and Heloise, and I am now psyched to research the influence of Majnun Layla tales on that story. The edition also includes some of his poems in translation, which are eloquent. Phrases like this stick out, "A mountain goat--wind defeating his horns--/makes light/of a mountain rock." That reminds me of another point. Some of the Majnun Layla poetry echoed parts of the Song of Solomon and the book of Revelation where Christ spreads his tents wide for His Bride. It is wonderful to trace a literature back to those fundamental, shared roots. This book has helped me grow as a reader. Another Arabic into English translation I'm so thankful I didn't miss.

Siraaj: an Arab Tale

Siraaj: An Arab Tale by Radwa Ashour. Trans. by Barbara Romaine.

Siraaj: an Arab Tale, part of our Lost in Translation collection, is a fictional account of a small island sultanate in the late nineteenth-century. A tyrannical sultan is caught between maintaining his power, based on slave labor and making concessions to a vast Victorian Empire.  On might be tempted to sympathize with the Sultan were it not for his equally evil, childless wife, his weekly romps with concubines, his stereotypical fondling of his precious gems or the bloody coup against his brother.

Told from multiple points of view, this novella is a densely layered volume of the inter-relationships that can be found among Arabs in the Arab world, the very essence of which is buried in a tale-within-a-tale, “The Ringdove”: “Don’t you know that nothing of good or evil befalls any of us other than that which is enjoined upon us by fate? In the full course of our days, whatever our weaknesses or our strengths, each of us will be tested, whether in poverty or prosperity. So it is destiny that put me in this predicament, that drew me to the bait, and hid the net from me so that I got caught in it, together with my companions” (37).

Against the backdrop of a British naval base being built on the island, rumblings of discontent among the slaves on the island begin, and those who formerly had no reason for revolt find themselves caught up in a revolution for reasons only they can tell.

Post-Arab Spring, this “Arab Tale” is more radical than ever. The Sultan. The People. The West. Who wins?

Sadly, Radwa Ashour passed away in December 2014. For more on her life and literary career, please check out the links below.  She was a remarkable person and should remain in our literary conscience.

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/dec/08/radwa-ashour

http://english.ahram.org.eg/News/116873.aspx

Vital Stats:

Ashour, Radwa. (2007). Siraaj: an Arab Tale. Trans. By Barbara Romaine. Austin: Center for Middle Eastern Studies at the University of Texas at Austin.

New Collection: Lost in Translation

From Arabic to English: Lost in Translation

In speeches and conversations, American poet Robert Frost has often been quoted as saying, “Poetry is what gets lost in translation. It is also what is lost in interpretation.” A few months ago, the English Department asked me if the library had any books originally written in Arabic that had been translated into English that were written for Young Adults.” I had no idea.  Thus began my quest.  It has been delightful.  I’m proud to announce a new featured collection “From Arabic to English: Lost in Translation,” which examines the difficulty of translating traditional Arabic forms of literature—from Kalila wa Dimna to Hayy ibn Yaqzan—into English.  When I ask them about bits of Holy Koran or Arabic poetry, so many students say, “Miss, it’s just not the same in English.”  However, after studying authors like Ghassan Kanafani, Mourid Barghouti, Hoda Barakat, Tayyib Saleh and Mahmoud Darwish, I feel compelled to share their voices, even in broken English. These are works of profound significance, worthy of translation, no matter if some poetry may be lost, no matter the risk of misinterpretation.  Here is a list of available Arabic titlestranslated to English as well as our New Arrivals.  Please drop by to have a look or go online or to your local libraries to find some of these titles.  They are worth looking into. Reading translated literature imbues the reader with a sensitivity toward the outside world that people who don’t read can sometimes lack (John Connelly, The Book of Lost Things).