We Call to the Eye & the Night: Love Poems by Writers of Arab Heritage
Edited by Hala Alyan and Zeina Hashem Beck
Persea Books, 2023
Reading the two hundred poems in “We Call to the Eye & the Night” — an anthology that contains the work of 85 contemporary Anglophone poets of Arab heritage — gives the reader the sensation of gazing into a brilliant night sky, one that is both familiar and strange. Venus, whose association with the goddess of love animates this book, shines more brightly than usual, as sharply visible as the crescent moon. Some of the stars are familiar — such as Fady Joudah, Naomi Shihab Nye, Philip Metres, Mohja Kahf, Hayan Charara, Nathalie Handal, Glenn Shaheen, Hedy Habra, Lisa Suhair Majaj — while others have risen to join them in new constellations. Forty of the poets represented here were born in 1990 or afterward, including George Abraham (recently named editor of Mizna Journal), Leila Chatti (who teaches at Smith College), Mohammed El-Kurd (Palestine correspondent for The Nation), Noor Naga (who teaches at the American University in Cairo), Fargo Nissim Tbakhi (who teaches at Towson University), Jess Rizkallah (an author and illustrator), and Nadim Choufi (also a videographer and sculptor, as well as co-Programs Director at Beirut Art Center).
Khalil al-Neimi Exposes What Tyranny Has Done to His Homeland
By Elie Chalala
I feel an affinity with Khalil al-Neimi, the author and novelist. Like him, I left my country, Lebanon, in 1972, and often thought about what I left behind. I gradually lost the desire to return, and later, after making a short visit back, I gave up on the idea altogether after being away for 38 years. Neimi and I differ on why it took us a long time to return (for me, 38 years, and for him, 50 years). It has been 53 years now since I departed Lebanon.
Nesrine Akram Khoury on the Trauma of Displacement in ‘A Room Between Two Massacres’
By Naomi Pham
“We were surprised by the other, the room, and me. I took a small space from it, just enough to open my laptop and resume the life I had left behind, hungry and afraid. The room, in turn, took two years of my life.” In this poetic portrait of life caught between war, displacement, and cyclical violence, Nesrine Akram Khoury’s “A Room Between Two Massacres”* dredges up painful memories that may resonate with many despite their intensely personal nature.
Language is not just a means of expression; it shapes identity and offers a broader, more complex connection to culture. In his essay “Arabic Literature in French: A Confusing Classification,”* published in Al Quds Al Arabi, Algerian novelist Waciny Laredj unravels the complex relationship between Arab writers, the French language, and identity. Language, he writes, is not merely a tool of expression — for many, it is a “home” and a determinant of cultural and intellectual vision, especially among writers who adopted French, whether by necessity or strategic choice, whose Arab identities were erased and sidelined in the literary world.
Syria Strips Away Symbols of the Old Regime to Reveal the Layers of Hell Beneath Damascus
By Elie Chalala
Syrian novelist Samar Yazbek recently returned to Syria and has written and given interviews on exile, displacement, fear, alienation, and the devastation of war. Having lived in displacement for nearly a decade, the thought of returning frequently occupied her mind. Her essay, “In Damascus, a Steep Road Leads to Hell,”* published in the New Arab newspaper, covers her experience as a returnee.
Suppose we must encapsulate the essence of Abeer Dagher Esber’s message for Syrians to remember, now and in the future. In that case, it should be the words she leaves at the end of her essay in Al Modon newspaper: “Our detention centers and the shame they represent — something we hope never to endure again — are woven into the fabric of our souls and cities, the stains on our brows that generations strive to erase and forgive. Our detention centers reflect a complex relationship with a collective memory we hesitate to confront, fearing we might be accused of mere rhetoric and shedding sentimental tears in unfamiliar cities.”
Why do we choose to tell painful stories, especially in documentary form, where we ask people to relive their trauma? That is a question I kept asking myself as I watched “Four Daughters.” Sometimes we need to know that pain is part of a story we too glibly read in the news, or perhaps it deepens a reality we think we know already.
After his passing in 2022, poets, intellectuals, and journalists offered their eulogies of the Lebanese poet Hassan Abdallah (1943-2022), who captivated readers with his words. Among those honoring him were Shawqi Bzay, Abbas Beydoun, Jawdat Fakhreddine, Talal Salman, and others. Without exception, Abdallah’s colleagues and friends remember him as a humble man, one who preferred to remain in the shadows and shun the limelight, festivals, and fiery speeches.
“Theatrical” perhaps best describes the current state of Lebanon’s performing arts scene, which seems to be embroiled in its own drama in recent days. Early this year, we bade farewell to the director and actor duo Antoine and Latifa Multaqa, pioneers of Lebanese theater’s 1960s avant-garde era and, for a moment, relished in nostalgia for Beirut’s culturally vibrant bygone days. Unfortunately, such rose-tinted memories have little room under the stifling atmosphere overtaking much of Lebanon’s arts and culture.
“There are clear faces that do not hide anything, as if their features convey the stories of their owners. It is as if every story in the life of its owner left a mark on it. For the Lebanese playwright Raymond Jebara, he wears a face of fatigue mixed with sharp sarcasm and a smile... eyes that describe the man,” wrote the Kuwaiti Al Jarida in an interview with Jebara in 2010.
As if gripped by the fear of losing the history of Palestine, Fathi Ghaben kept Palestine close to him for his entire life, in his mind, art, and physical existence. Reporters, critics, and Palestinian government officials paid tribute to the artist, whose unwavering focus on Palestinian culture and memory saturated his life and work.
The widespread reach of the Egyptian song and its artistic achievements, going beyond the Arab sphere to the rest of the world, owes its success to musicians, singers, and poets whose writings remain immortal today. Among them is the poet Magdy Naguib, who departed from the cultural scene on February 7, 2024, reports Al Habeeb Al Aswad in Al Arab newspaper. Hardly a moment goes by without news of the Arab cultural scene losing an artist, poet, songwriter, or other creative.
When the Frankfurt Book Fair announced last October the “indefinite postponement” of Palestinian author Adania Shibli’s award for her novel “Minor Detail,” outrage erupted among critics not just in the Arab world but globally, with numerous translators, publishers, and award-winning authors condemning the decision in an open letter.