Una figlia di Iside

by Nawal El Saadawi

"Se provo a ricordare cosa è successo quando sono venuta al mondo, tutto quello che so è che sono nata donna. Sentivo dire che Dio crea il maschio e la femmina, e che, molto prima che nascessi, le neonate venivano sepolte vive. Poi, dall'alto, un verso discese nel Corano, e diceva così: 'E se alla femmina sepolta viva si chiede per quale peccato sia stata uccisa...'. Fossi nata a quell'epoca sarei stata una di quelle neonate. Questo mi dicevano quando avevo quattro anni." La memoria e le parole sono le armi che Nawal El Saadawi utilizza per ribellarsi a una società in cui la nascita di una femmina equivale a una sventura. Una società in cui l'interpretazione del Corano è monopolio degli uomini, in cui le bambine subiscono la cliteridectomia, sono costrette a sposarsi in tenera età ed educate a servire gli uomini in silenzio. "Una figlia di Iside" è il racconto dell'infanzia e della gioventù della femminista più famosa nel mondo islamico. Una testimonianza appassionata. La storia di una emancipazione possibile.

Genres: Nonfiction, Feminism, Memoir, Egypt, Biography, Africa, Middle East

368 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1986

About the author

Nawal El Saadawi (Arabic: نوال السعداوي) was born in 1931, in a small village outside Cairo. Unusually, she and her brothers and sisters were educated together, and she graduated from the University of Cairo Medical School in 1955, specializing in psychiatry. For two years, she practiced as a medical doctor, both at the university and in her native Tahla.

From 1963 until 1972, Saadawi worked as Director General for Public Health Education for the Egyptian government. During this time, she also studied at Columbia University in New York, where she received her Master of Public Health degree in 1966. Her first novel Memoirs of a Woman Doctor was published in Cairo in 1958. In 1972, however, she lost her job in the Egyptian government as a result of political pressure. The magazine, Health, which she had founded and edited for more than three years, was closed down.

From 1973 to 1978 Saadawi worked at the High Institute of Literature and Science. It was at this time that she began to write, in works of fiction and non-fiction, the books on the oppression of Arab women for which she has become famous. Her most famous novel, Woman at Point Zero was published in Beirut in 1973. It was followed in 1976 by God Dies by the Nile and in 1977 by The Hidden Face of Eve: Women in the Arab World.

In 1981 Nawal El Saadawi publicly criticized the one-party rule of President Anwar Sadat, and was subsequently arrested and imprisoned. She was released one month after his assassination. In 1982, she established the Arab Women's Solidarity Association, which was outlawed in 1991. When, in 1988, her name appeared on a fundamentalist death list, she and her second husband, Sherif Hetata, fled to the USA, where she taught at Duke University and Washington State University. She returned to Egypt in 1996.

In 2004 she presented herself as a candidate for the presidential elections in Egypt, with a platform of human rights, democracy and greater freedom for women. In July 2005, however, she was forced to withdraw her candidacy in the face of ongoing government persecution.

Nawal El Saadawi has achieved widespread international recognition for her work. She holds honorary doctorates from the universities of York, Illinois at Chicago, St Andrews and Tromso. Her many prizes and awards include the Great Minds of the Twentieth Century Prize, awarded by the American Biographical Institute in 2003, the North-South Prize from the Council of Europe and the Premi Internacional Catalunya in 2004. Her books have been translated into over 28 languages worldwide. They are taught in universities across the world.

She now works as a writer, psychiatrist and activist. Her most recent novel, entitled Al Riwaya was published in Cairo in 2004.

Reviews

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

If Nawal El Saadawi was a man, she'd be much more world famous. If you don't know about her, learn about her. She's grand.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked ‘A Daughter of Isis’ off the library new acquisitions shelf knowing nothing about it, and was convinced to read it by a cover recommendation from Doris Lessing. It is the first volume in the autobiography of an Eygptian feminist, writer, and political activist. She recounts her childhood and life as a medical student in lyrical, non-linear fashion. Once I got used to her poetic style, I found it readable and involving, albeit depressing. Her overriding experience was of women being treated as second-class citizens. El Saadawi suffered female genital mutilation, fought to avoid being married off in her early teens, and was very lucky to get an education. Most female relatives of her generation were forced to abandon any dreams of study, music, or art in favour of housework and child-rearing. Their plight is depicted with great pathos: perpetually cooking and cleaning, constantly pregnant, dying prematurely. El Saadawi sensitively shows the contradictions of her father, who allowed his daughters to be educated yet still treated them as intellectually inferior to his sons. She gradually gained his respect by exceeding the academic achievements of her brothers through great effort, but was still expected to do all the women’s chores as well. The political turmoil in Egypt in the 1940s form the background to her adolescence, during which she came to question gender roles in society, culture, and religion.

The narrative is notably skilful at describing material details grounded in the body, including the wretchedness of menstruation. This passage was particularly memorable:

Between me and the primus stove there was a visceral feeling of enmity. It was such a strange, moody creature with a will of its own that always seemed to conflict with mine, as though it represented some strange, antagonistic power on earth, or in the beans. If I wanted it to burn, it went out. If I wanted it to go out, a tongue of fire would flare up from it in my face. It taunted me like the whims of fate or destiny.
[...]
As soon as I had reached the age of seven my mother started to teach me how to light the primus stove, and my father began to show me how to pray. Was there some relationship between the primus stove and praying? I soon discovered that there was. The body movements were similar. To light the stove I had to bend my back in a movement which resembled bowing down in prayer. When I cleaned the blocked hole with a needle sometimes it broke inside, the in order to extract it with the help of another needle I would have to bend even more so that my nose almost touched the tarboush in a movement very much like prostration.

Although I found the style rather meandering, it is undoubtedly powerful and beautifully written and translated. A book well worth taking a chance on should you see it on the shelf.

[Mariam · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really wanted to enjoy her autobiography more than I did. I cannot help but feel like a traitor considering that I too am an Arab Muslim woman like Nawal; however I will not deny that she is an intellectual not to be reckoned with. I am in awe of her bravery, her strength, her desire for knowledge and her love for literature. I think what really caught me off guard was the way she discussed Islam in relation to women's oppression. I feel like she failed to realize that in Arab society, culture and religion are often intertwined, thus resulting in the fallacy that Islam justifies the oppression of women and the supremacy of the male sex. Maybe I am in no position to criticize her in this particular area, but being that she is an educated woman I expected she would try and illuminate the relationship between Arab culture and religion and to emphasize that they are not one and the same.

[Nina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Long review = I actually took time to write and try this book justice = it's a good one.

I bought this book last summer and it has been gathering dust on my night stand ever since, close to becoming one of those books you buy and never read. But the reason I bought it in the first place, despite having never heard of Nawal El-Sadaawi, made me pick it up *at last*: the promise of an extremely well written autobiography about an Egyptian woman described with superlatives such as "the most influential feminist thinker" and "one of the greatest writers" of the Arab world.

I will say that, when you come from a 21st century, Western "feminists wear pink too" kind of perspective, some remarks El-Sadaawi makes might seem a little odd. Then again, you really can't judge her for it, seen as her coming of age story was that of a girl, deeply traumatized by societal expectations for women, trying with all her might to overcome this trauma and the countless obstacles in her way.

The scenes in which she analyzes the signs that lead her to believe her marriage was being arranged behind her back (sudden changes in the behavior of family members, etc) read like excerpts from a thriller or horror movie. The gendered violence she is traumatized by of course becomes very explicit in the descriptions of female genital mutilation (at age 6, I believe?), of forced and painful hair removal, ....

She also mentions how she "saw young girls burn themselves alive, or throw themselves into the waters of the Nile and drown, in order to escape a father's, or a husband's tyranny". And in a more subtle, but equally heartbreaking way, there's a continuing theme of her meeting her childhood friends later on in life, only to find out they had been married of and impregnated at the age of 17, despite their ambitions of going to art school, medical school, etc.

With that in mind, you understand where she's coming from when she writes: "The kitchen was the place where I knew the humiliation of being a female" or "What would I gain if my skin became smooth and hairless like a snake's? What kind of desire or passion other than the urge to violate, or humiliate would be aroused in a man seeking a body like that?".

Other things to be appreciated in this autobiography: her early political engagement in decolonizing Egypt ("Down with the king! Down with the British!"), the passages about the power of education and good teachers, the many cultural references to Egyptian writers and singers, the glimpses into the beauty of Arabic, ....

[Nadia · Rating 3 out of 5]

An informative read which illustrates the foundations behind the path Nawal has chosen and lives. She is a Woman of great courage and tireless conviction and in this first part of her autobiography, we are given access to the inner workings of a mind which is uber creative and monumental in its' scope. My one criticism is that for my methodical mind, I found the meandering and at times convoluted writing style distracting. Perhaps this is due to translation. I recommend this to anyone who has read Nawal's books and or is aware of her activism and would like a deeper understanding of this brilliant, proud Feminist.

[ael · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pretty standard autiobiography, I'm really just giving it megaprops because this lady is so cool. If you haven't read her book Woman At Point Zero, do it immediately (triggering though)

[Stacey Sturgis · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this over the summer when Nawal was coming to Springfield for a lecture. I missed the lecture but the story of her life is incredible. This is an awe-inspiring look at the life of a young Egyptian woman in a strict male-dominated society. The focus is on her early years, does not touch much on her activism and political work for women in her homeland, but you definitely get to know her by the end of the book.

[Mehrunnisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

What an incredibly raw, brave and inspiring story! El Saadawi is gusty and courageous from such an early stage that it really gave me pause to think about how far we have travelled from the times when young girls had to fight for basics. This is a must read for women who want to be inspired, find their voices and courage. Women of courage will find an icon from within in their midst and those in the West will benefit from discovering trailblazers from the East.

[Angelina Justice · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book has stayed with me for years. It is an intense picture into the life of a woman who was both suppressed and inspired by her native culture.

She brings insight into the cultural and religious life of her countrymen without vitriol or anger. She also highlights the plight of women worldwide who are still suppressed and abused by the culture into which they are born.

[SarahJaneSmith · Rating 3 out of 5]

How Nawal El Saadawi managed to emancipate herself from the misogynic constraints she grew up with is impressive and inspiring, therefore I enjoyed reading her autobiography. However, I`m not sure about her style - sometimes it felt so flowery, repetitive and verbose that I found it distracting.

[Claude · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very nice book indeed ;-)

[Catherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nawal El Saadawi is someone I admire so much--as a writer, a woman, an activist. I absolutely love her novel *Woman at Point Zero* and have taught several of her short stories in my World Lit. I read this book to understand her more and to see a bit more of what growing up in Egypt might have been like, especially for a girl. I read *Daughter of Isis* slowly but found it fascinating and would like to read her autobiography of her later years. That said, this book is probably more engaging for those who already love her work than it would be for someone new to her writing. Definitely read her fiction first--and this quote from the end of *Daughter of Isis*:

"Words should not seek to please, should not hide the wounds in our bodies, the shameful moments in our lives. Sometimes words shock us, give us pain, but they can provoke us to face ourselves, to question what we have accepted for thousands of years."

[Nancy Oyula · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author greatly dwells on her life as a young teenage girl, and briefly talks of her adult life. She partly talks of her time at the university where she took medicine. Despite the cultural challenges, she managed to study till university. By the time she was seventeen, she says, all the girls in her maternal and paternal side of the family had been married off. She was at the Fouad Al-Awal university in Giza, The third largest city in Egypt. This was an achievement, considering how the traditional Egyptian society was set up back then. Though she loved poetry and literature, she took medicine at the university , for that’s what her parents wanted.

Nawal is a gem, a force to reckon with, an icon in the literal world and everything you need to see in empowering the girl child. I must say I was a little bit disappointed as in the book, she never talked much about her years in activism and the role she played in promoting feminism and equality (More reason to look for her other books). Her autobiography is rousing. This is a book one would read and keep it, just to see it on their shelves for it reminds us that even if the world is full of nasty characters, we still can conquer all that's evil.

This autobiography majorly focuses on sexual discrimination, the perception society has of women in Egypt, and by extension the Arab world, resisting barbaric cultures, importance of education and schooling children; not just boys but both genders, social constraints and enlightenment of the society. Something I noted too is that she repeatedly mentions her mother in the book. Often times Nawal fondly talks of her mother, how caring and loving she was, and how she was a good wife to her father.I believe she is the most talked of person in the book after Nawal. Her mother was her source of inspiration, her back bone, she looked up to her for advise. She was her strength as she faced each new day. It's a phenomenal book.

[Steven H · Rating 3 out of 5]

THE FIRST VOLUME OF THE EGYPTIAN ACTIVIST’S AUTOBIOGRAPHY

Egyptian author, physician, and activist Nawal El Saadawi wrote in the first chapter of this 1999 book, “My relationship with my mother decided the course of my life. I used to think that my father’s influence on it was greater than hers. I discovered while I was writing that this was not true. The spinal column that has held me up was built on what my mother said when I was young: ‘Throw Nawal in the fire and she will come out unhurt.’ After hearing that, I could walk into danger with a brave heart. Maybe that is why I was able to escape death more than once.” (Pg. 2-3)

She notes, “I was proud of my dark skin. It was a beautiful brown, the color of silt brought down to my land by the waters of the Nile. I never hid it under make-up or powder, or pastes of any kind, did not believe in a femininity born with slave society and handed down to us with class and patriarchy.” (Pg. 7-8)

She explains, “At the age of thirty I was incapable of writing about many painful and sensitive issues in my life. It needed another thirty years before I developed enough courage to get rid of the fear and the feelings of shame rooted in myself. There had to be thousands of miles between me and my homeland, I had to be completely cut off from the past, the present and the future, all of which had weighed heavily on me, to feel that I no longer had any pressing needs, and could do without almost anything… Step by step, what had been enveloped for so long in dark cloud started to reappear.” (Pg. 12)

She says, “Writing to me was life, like the embrace of my mother, like love… Why do I write? Why have I spent my life writing short stories and novels? Maybe I wanted to do something, to draw a true image of myself and make the world see it… make the silent child hidden in my depths speak up. I had not yet learned to speak, but my body was able to feel the shiver creep up, able to understand the silence in the eyes, to see the words staring out.” (Pg. 61)

She recounts how her father once told her, “I fear no one except Allah the Almighty… I fear neither headmasters nor government ministers.” She comments, “I was seven years old, but my father’s voice made its way deep into my memory and I never forgot his words. From then on as the years rolled by, I also learnt not to fear anyone except God within me, my conscience, my inner voice. If anyone wrote a report against me I would repeat in the same tone of voice, ‘Empty an inkpot on your report.’” (Pg. 81)

She notes, “I hated the sight ow whiskers on a man’s face. My father had a mustache, but it was not like the whiskers of males. My father was not a male. Fatherhood and maleness for me never went together.” (Pg. 152)

Her father told her, “The government is just corrupt. It neither respects learning, nor men of learning. It’s a corrupt system. Only ignorant people, only Mouski street traders who buy and sell old car parts, can make money.’ Father’s words had their effect on my thoughts and reduced my feelings of humiliation. Was it not poverty that deprived people of their dignity, filled their noses with the small of bursting sewers every morning, forced them to feed on lentils and fava beans, and made their bodies let out ugly noises from behind the doors of their latrines?” (Pg. 201)

After her father read some of her writing, he said, “Bravo, Nawal, you really have talent!” She says, “The words of my father have always lived with me… They swept away the comments of the teacher, his crossings out, his zero circled in red ink. I was in love with the letters of the language, with its words. What I could not stand was the teacher, the rules of grammar and religion. These three things were capable of killing any budding talent.” (Pg. 259)

She observes, “No one ever made me hate religion more than those who taught it to us. They seemed to take pleasure in picking out the most difficult verses in Allah’s book, the words that curled up in one’s throat like a knot and stopped there, in choosing meanings that one’s reason refused, explanations that made things more confused, in proffering threats of hell-fire, of hopes of a paradise where there was nothing to do except loll on sofas, or sleep, or eat.” (Pg. 259-260)

She recounts, “The first national demonstration in my life, the first time I understood the meaning of the word homeland, the first time I felt love for my country sweep me along, break down the barriers between dream and reality, between body and mind, uniting the parts with the whole, the earth with heaven. Life was no longer separated from death, pleasure from pain. The human being was now capable of flying in the air, of swimming to the depths of the sea, of doing anything. I had never experienced this feeling of a happiness without limit, like a flood, uncontrollable. I experienced the same feeling later in other demonstrations and during the short moment when I looked into the eyes of my newly born daughter and, year later, of my son for the first time.” (Pg. 276)

Much later, she comments, “My female colleagues refused adamantly to participate in any demonstration. They refused anything related to politics and political parties. But what provoked and scared them most was when ‘the communist’ used to enter the dissecting hall, and come to our table… At that time I did not know what the word communism meant. My female colleagues believed that it was a combination of atheism, heresy, corruption and immorality…” (Pg. 334-335)

She recalls, “Students and armed youth were now engaged in armed resistance, and the Wafdist government secretly encouraged the resistance fighters. When I joined the demonstrations I was sometimes the only girl amongst thousands of male students… My body would be propelled by some hidden force to rush out and join them, and as I advanced with the crowds my heart would beat strongly, rhythmically, as though once again I was living my first love.”(Pg. 344)

She acknowledges, “I was not attracted by the medical profession. It seemed unable to do much in face of the sufferings imposed on people. I realized how sickness and poverty are linked to politics, to money and power, that medical practice was removed from our everyday life. Writing became a weapon with which to fight the system, which draws its authority from the autocratic power exercised by the ruler of the state, and that of the father or the husband in the family. The written word for me became an act of rebellion against injustice exercised in the name of religion, or morals, or love.” (Pg. 352)

Her second volume, “Walking Through Fire,” will be of even greater interest to those studying he later activism.

[Anne · Rating 4 out of 5]

I learned a lot from this book and I enjoyed and trusted the voice in it. However, perhaps I chose the wrong book to enter her life. I know she’s a badass, and that she wrote, was a revolutionary, was imprisoned, was exiled, etc. etc. and I was WAITING to get to those parts, only to have the book end when she was 17 and still in school. She has a short last chapter where she mentions adult life. And it sounded thrilling! Felt like I was missing out.

It does, however, give you a good look at some horrifying female oppression from the view of a precocious and smart young girl. It also makes you think of how quick girls grow up in other cultures: by 11-12 years old, she was expected to be married and start having children. Some girls were younger than that. And the husbands were often in their 30s. This was all unfathomable and shocking to me. Luckily, she dodged that fate, possibly from being too tall, and was able to pursue her education.

She’s a fascinating woman, though there were a lot of issues with repetition, and I think the book could have used some strong editing. I still give her stars out of respect for her and out of what I learned.

[Caito · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found this book by chance at some strange little coffee shop book store. I went back shortly after finishing for her other book. There is many things that are to be said about this book. Firstly, her writing style of mixing with diary like entries to specific moments in her life, vividly illustrated, is wonderful. Saadwi writes with such a well practiced craft that the book to me felt dream like. I floated through the pages and landed at the ending feeling emotions I couldn't describe. I absolutely loved this book and the other that ties into her life. I highly recommend this to anyone who wants a decent piece of reading to feed their soul.

[C. · Rating 4 out of 5]

نوال السعداوي حاكة ممتازة.

[Rita · Rating 4 out of 5]

1999, but written in 1995 when author and husband lived for a while in Durham, North Carolina because Egyptian authorities were making life nearly impossible for them in Cairo.

Translator Sherif Hetata is author's husband. Translation is not bad, though uneven, and if he's the one who suggested the occasional footnotes clarifying terms and customs then I'm grateful to him.

Author 1931-2021! certainly had enormous drive and determination and grit from a very young age. Second-born, her father long preferred/favored her two-years-older brother until Nawal so clearly surpassed him in achievements [high school].

Author describes relationship with mother and with father as quite ambivalent, I mean each gave her a great deal but also denied her a great deal. Author has wonderful almost mystical memories of her mother's loving actions during Nawal's first three years. During Nawal's years at boarding schools in Cairo, her father many many times came to her rescue, and scrimped and saved for her education.

The book would have benefited from a good publisher's editor to remove some of the many repetitions, but the author's experiences are so strongly described that such flaws can be easily forgiven or ignored.

We learn a lot through the author's view of the contrast between the dirt-poor village life of the paternal grandmother and relatives, and the 'refined' city life of the maternal relatives who the author sees as mostly status-conscious empty shells, devoid of positive human feelings. The village grandmother has an iron will and lifelong dedication to making every sacrifice necessary to educate her oldest son [Nawal's father] and also to remind the village head in cases of unjust rule.

The incidents at the various schools are so vividly described and in such detail that they make a huge impression on me, and show a world remarkably different from our own here today.

The author goes to great lengths to point out what happened to various of her gifted classmates, the females almost always ending up married housewives forced to discontinue their education and make no use of their particular talents. We get glimpses of class differences, prerogatives of civil servants, and many many examples of maltreatment and discrimination of girls and women.

There is much to learn in the book [including an impression of Egptians rising up against British rule throughout the author's childhood], but more than that is the force of the author's personality and sense of purpose.

One [Muslim] goodreaders is disappointed that the author does not distinguish between the tents of Islam as a religion vs cultural/social rules/constraints [as in the case of circumcision and confinement of women]. That's a point, but one must simply look to other writers for this distinction. El Saadawi has many other things to say, and this distinction is not one of them.

A 2009 ad by Zed Books is for FOUR books of El Saadawi republished by Zed in 2009: this book; Searching; The Circling Song; Walking through Fire: the later years of Nawal El Saadawi.

"In a 2014 interview, Saadawi said that "the root of the oppression of women lies in the global post-modern capitalist system, which is supported by religious fundamentalism""

6 March 2009, Saadawi is interviewed for the Guardian [on the occasion of the republishing]
---"We live in a very religious, patriarchal, capitalist world. They burned my book in Egypt – in fact the publisher burned it – but if I said everything I wanted to say, it would be me they would burn at the stake"---very interesting to read her views [in her old age].
---title of article is "Meet Egypt's most radical woman"

[Klara · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a phenomenal book! I loved this autobiography of Nawal El Saadawi's childhood and teenage years. I hadn't heard about her before I saw this book, I had no idea she lived such an important life and was a face of female liberation in Egypt and other parts of the Arab world. I actually bought this book two or three years ago and started the first few dozen pages, but dropped it quite quickly. Today, I was able to not only finish it but enjoy it; I had moments of really losing myself in the story while sitting on the sofa, which I think shows the new calmness/patience/curiosity I have developed in relation to reading. :)

The main two reasons why I enjoyed this book and give it 5 stars:
1) It taught me something new. I learned not only about Nawal and her life, but also about women in Egypt and the culture of the country. I learned also about the education system there, and about religion, and somewhat about Egypt's political situation in the 1950s (I expect the second part of the autobiography expands on this more).
2) It was written in an observant, delicate way. It (mostly, apart from what I discuss below) wasn't judgmental, yet it held strong values.

My one criticism is that Nawal had a tendency to write as though she was so "special" and other women were "not like her." Additionally, she tended to look down on stereotypically "female" traits (such as when her classmates where excitedly discussing marriage). Through this, Nawal perpetuates the view that women should strive for "masculine" traits/interests/appearances in order to be "strong women" rather than embracing their own "female" traits/interests/appearances. I think this is almost as destructive as the views she was trying to criticise and break free from in the book. I'd much prefer it if she was able to see power in stereotypically "female" traits as well as embracing her own more "masculine" ones (e.g. lack of interest in marriage). But perhaps this subversion was necessary for her to overcome the deep oppression and marginalisation of women in her life and culture.

[Patricia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Nawal El Saadawi was a very strong woman to stand up against the extreme patriarchy of her culture.
The Ancient Egyptian culture women were equal to men, respected, had freedoms, and even freedom over their own bodies. The Ancient Egyptians never did Female genitalia Mutilation, forced marriages and all of this terrible oppression towards women today Egypt, but it was brought to Egypt after the fall of Ancient Egyptian culture, by conquering forces and migration of other people coming to Egypt and the slave trade by the ottomans empire. The culture Saadawi grown up in was completely opposite to the Ancient Egyptians culture. Even in Islam, the Quran never said that is a great thing to do to little innocent girls, to mutilate them from a perverted view. The whole culture abusive in Saadawi village. I am pretty sure the prophet Muhammad had compassion, and wouldn't condone FGM, but some people uses religion to justify it by making stuff up about it or adding on their own nonsense. FGM is a disgusting, misogynistic, barbaric practices that developed by very patriarchal cultures, possible from the horn of Africa were the most extreme form of it is done to young girls. Yes, sadly FGM is being done in secret on all continents, even though it is illegal in most civilized countries. I don't want to sound prejudice towards groups of people, but there is no excuse for this type of culture to continue in the world regardless were it is.
The 3 stars, because it was kind of hard to make sense of what I was reading at times, because it was one story was going into another, a bit confusion.

[Jo · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars

I’d only read one novel by Nawal El Saadawi before picking this up, the powerful Woman At Point Zero a long time ago and went into this knowing only the vaguest details of her life. This is a poetic but frank account of her childhood and upbringing where she became aware of her position as a woman quite early and rebelled against that seemingly her whole life. Although she experienced genital mutilation and saw the way women were often married off barely in their teens, she herself managed to avoid that fate and get an education, eventually becoming a medical doctor in Cairo. She joined protests against British rule and made speeches while at college as well as writing opinion pieces and eventually was thrown into prison and feared for her life although these events are only referred to in the afterword.

There are stories rich with detail about her father’s family who lived in rural Eqypt especially the wonderful Sittil Hajja, her father’s mother, who is a significant figure in her life. She also writes of the loving relationship her mother and father had before her mother died and how, although her mother was still very much tied to a woman’s role her belief in Nawal’s strength motivated her and led to her drive to be a strong, independent, educated woman.

Sometimes I would question the level of detail that is in the novel, wondering how someone could remember this much from so long ago but found that I was so caught up in the writing this ceased to concern me. Overall, this is an excellent biography of a fascinating and inspiring woman who sadly passed away last year but who has thankfully left behind a large body of work to explore and enjoy.

[Bookworm · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent book about an amazing woman in Egypt. Fighting for women's rights got her imprisoned and exiled, but most of this memoir is her everyday life growing up - full of happy moments and sad, joy and pain, trauma and hope.
Three quotes that took my breath away:
“Sorrow is easier to bear than infanticide.”
“The wedding bed is a death bed in this religion of ours.”
“My grandmother and mother were both circumcised. My mother did not rescue me from this operation, nor did she rescue any of her other daughters. But I was able to protect my daughter and many other girls from undergoing it… at the age of six, I could not save myself from it.”

[Martina T. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Autobiografia dell’autrice che ci immerge nella sua realtà. Ho pianto leggendo questo libro perché mi sono sentita impotente rispetto alle cose atroci che le bambine e le donne ancora oggi sono costrette a subire. Non essere considerate equivale a non esistere, ma come ribadisce spesso l’autrice, bisogna scrivere, scrivere della nostra vita per lasciare almeno vivo il ricordo di quelle persone che a noi erano care che con il passare del tempo rischiano di essere dimenticate, scrivere per lasciare traccia del semplice fatto che che esistiamo.

[Jan Andrews · Rating 3 out of 5]

Eye opening view of life for girls and women in a Muslim country around the mid 20th century.
It really shows Nawal's strength of character and I look forward to reading more about her later life.

[Sean Riagain · Rating 5 out of 5]

Where does defiance emerge from? An amazing read about the early days of an incredibly brilliant,brave and courageous woman. Phenomenal.

[Ralph Römer · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wish I'd enjoyed this more. Interesting woman, interesting life, but this book was repetitive and I just did not get into it.

[Arya · Rating 4 out of 5]

so much reverence for this woman's courage and bravery

[Jamie Atari · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely loved it. I ordered Nawal’s other books as well.

[Burcu]

Turkce bir degerlendirme icin: https://sanatkritik.com/yazilar/dunya...

[Giulia Valtolina · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mi ha fatto provare molta rabbia ma credo sia necessaria.