A captivating memoir that unravels the emotional struggles of a nation the world has long overlooked. Through the eyes of an outsider, this story takes a deep dive into the intimate details of Lebanon's hardships, providing a profound understanding of its people and their journey.
'An astonishing piece of writing.' Helen Garner on Ell's 'Façades of Lebanon', winner of the 2021 Calibre Essay Prize.
From 2018 to 2021, writer and researcher Theodore Ell accompanied his wife on her diplomatic posting to Lebanon and unexpectedly found himself a witness to a country on the brink of collapse.
In 2019, facing economic meltdown, the people of Lebanon rose up, united in a revolution of hope. With the country on the precipice of war, Covid-19 then swept in and the eerie quiet of lockdowns descended—a silence tragically shattered in August 2020, when Ell narrowly survived the largest ever non-nuclear peacetime explosion, which destroyed half of Beirut.
Everywhere from calm cedar forests to crowded Beirut bars, Ell listened to stories of the Lebanese people and tried to make sense of the maze of ideas, desires and illusions that create the Lebanon of their imagination, a place in sharp contrast to reality.
In prose as lucid as it is emotionally rich, and based on reportage that won Ell the 2021 Calibre Prize, Lebanon Days welcomes those who wish to understand more than news footage can convey. This is the story of a nation largely ignored by the rest of the world, a complex country driven over the edge but still seeking faith in itself, seen through the eyes of an outsider drawn into its intimate struggle.
Lebanon Days left me thinking long after the final page.
Ell's reflections and observations are raw, immersive, and often quietly confronting. The contrast between what’s considered “everyday” in one country and “unthinkable” in another is powerfully explored.
This is not a dramatic retelling—it’s a slow, thoughtful unpacking of culture, history, and human resilience. At times, I felt like a guest in someone else’s living room; at others, like a voyeur witnessing moments I wasn’t meant to see.
A moving, unsettling read that challenges assumptions and reminds you how personal the political can be.
An interesting “outsider’s” account written by the husband of an Australian diplomat, concerning their time in Beirut during 2019 and 2020. Many an interesting glimpse into the lives of Lebanese people from all walks of life - Muslim, Christian, Druze - as they struggle to make a life for themselves in the complex and beautiful but troubled country.
This book received many accolades in the reviews and is based on the reportage that won the author the 2021 Calibre Essay Prize. For me though, there is insufficient analysis of, or genuine empathy for, the Lebanese people. There is, however, an abundance of supercilious, authoritative western judgement. The memoir perpetuates many of the stereotypes Australians hold about the Lebanese - corrupt/criminal, misogynistic, lax - as we continue to look down our racist noses.
Theodore Ell is a fan of a literary flourish. And to be honest, I quite enjoy a flourish myself when I can throw one in. This book, may have exceeded the necessary quota. As political analysis of the situation in Lebanon, it is not much help, but as an observation of experience, it is interesting and I learned a little of what it feels like on the ground.
I just keep drifting off. I am trying so hard with this book but it simply doesn’t hold my attention and I’m considering giving up as I’ve picked it up several times now to only manage to read a bit here and a bit there. I think I’m done at page 147.
In 2021 Theodore Ell won the ABR Calibre Prize for his essay 'Facades of Lebanon' which described the Lebanese revolution and the Beirut port explosion. The explosion, caused by a stockpile of nearly 3000 tonnes of ammonium nitrate, dominates his essay which was written in 2020, as part of his way of processing what had happened.
The book is in five parts, and the explosion is just one of these parts. It is the story of the two-and-a-bit years between the end of 2018 and the beginning of 2021 that the author spent in Beirut as the partner of an Australian Embassy official- a time in which Beirut roiled under street protests as part of the thowra (i.e. revolution) which was eventually put down by Hezbollah (or as he writes it 'Hizballah') and the COVID lockdowns, during a time of economic collapse exacerbated by government corruption, which in turn laid the conditions for the Beirut port explosion that changed his life.
This is beautifully written, with a fantastic, clear map that lets you locate yourself in the city and in Lebanon more generally. He integrates travel description, history, political analysis and personal response in what he hopes is a 'tapestry' rather than a 'tableau' of landscape with figures.
Ell is an astute storyteller, and Beirut is never boring. While sometimes his prose drifts too lyrically for my liking, there's always an opportune anecdote to arrest your attention and give you a real feel for Lebanese life. This was a three-and-a-half star read for me.
a personal and insightful look at ancient lands. oh the sorrow and the chaos. a bit dry at times, and perhaps a little long, but readable and relatable, in the sense that we all ache for peace.
As my knowledge of Lebanon was very scant at best, I found this book very informative on several levels especially from a foreigner’s viewpoint. It has given me a foundation to build on. Less embellishment on descriptiveness of the ordinary would have made it a more enjoyable read I feel.
Theodore Ell’s account of his time living in Beirut, while accompanying his wife during her diplomatic posting, fell a little flat for me. I was hoping for deeper insight into the rich cultural tapestry of Lebanon, a country shaped by beauty, struggle, and complexity. Instead, it read more like a surface level travel memoir, with characters and experiences only lightly touched upon.
The book does reference significant events, like the devastating 2020 warehouse explosion and the ongoing influence of Hezbollah, but it often lacked emotional depth or personal resonance. That said, it’s an easy read and perhaps a gentle introduction for those unfamiliar with Lebanon. For me, it served more as a prelude, I’m now interested in exploring books that offer a more intrinsic and nuanced understanding of the country.