Image: Magdi Mostafa, Ahmed Basiony's last photo - "Friday of rage" Jan. 28th. Taken by his friend/partner Magdi Mostafa, at Tahrir Square, Cairo. (detail)
This month and next, we're documenting the Arab Spring with literature from the countries of the uprisings. Following the sequence of events, we begin in North Africa with writing from Algeria, Egypt, Libya, Sudan, and Tunisia. In fiction and polemic, poetry and reporting, writers offer insights both on the insurrections and the contexts in which they occurred, providing an invaluable perspective from which to consider this ongoing revolution.
We open with German Trade Prize winner Boualem Sansal’s tribute to Mohamed Bouazizi, the Tunisian whose self-immolation set the events of the Arab Spring in motion. Activist Nawal El Saadawi provides a snapshot of the first days of the Egyptian uprising, and Miral Al-Tahawy tells of a peasant girl carried off by the Chief of Bedouins. Laila Marouane, author of The Sexual Life of an Islamist in Paris, contributes a harrowing portrait of Algerian misogyny and oppression. Laila Neihoum presents a manifesto for Libya, while her countryman Fadhil Al-Azzawi opens a theme park for deceased dictators. From Sudan, poet Tarek Eltayeb considers recent history, and Amir Tag Elsir’s novice writer courts a pompous novelist. And from Tunisia, Cecile Oumhani interviews the publisher Elisabeth Daldoul, while poets Amina Said and Tahar Bekri speak of a country under siege. Next month we'll turn to Bahrain, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Syria, and Yemen.
Elsewhere, our Man in Madrid series wraps up with Doménico Chiappe’s tale of an author turned ghostwriter, and Jonathan Blitzer's illuminating interview with the author. And in poetry from three Latin Americans, Nicaragua's Ernesto Mejía Sánchez keeps watch in a translation by William Carlos Williams, Mexico's Olvido García Valdés reflects on the moon, and Argentina's Horacio Castillo considers the Arctic.
An Open Letter to Mohamed Bouazizi
You delivered the spark, your task is done, the task is ours now to finish.
Is This How Women Grow Up?
When the massacres began in 1990 we had our doors bullet-proofed.
Path of Light
I crawled to your lips across a bed of thorns
Our second home is built / in the avenue of death, say the mothers
Some visitors responded to the waves of the leaders of yesteryear by giving them the finger.
And she tells the story of how he came and took her away on his horse and shut her up in a house with high walls.
I Call You Tunisia
How the dream had lost its plumage / In the skies of your nest.
The Egyptian Revolution Won’t be Fooled
The battle continues and the revolution continues.
from “The Grub Hunter”
Some texts I compose naked in a closed room with the drapes drawn and not a breath of air.
O My Libya
When Nowhere’s left for you we’ll take your place.
The glass in the windows will burst.
My Lot in the Days of the Lord
Yet the sun has been gone for months / And I have no veil to delude me
Publishing in Tunisia: An Interview with Elisabeth Daldoul of Elyzad
The Tunisian Revolution has opened new perspectives to explore that would have been unthinkable only a few months ago.
Reviewed by Adam Eaglin
There’s a feral quality to this particular novel’s narration, with sentences that furiously push forward for entire paragraphs.