This phrase “Gaza, thorn and balm of the soul” from Mona Abu Sharakh’s story captures the aura of the ten stories in this book. The authors greatly love Gaza, but their souls suffer. But not, perhaps in the way that would jump to mind. In several stories, the pain is caused by the absence of romantic love once cherished. Separation of family is another sadness. But there is also that thread of daily life in which amidst one’s tribulations there is comfort in the familiar. “She gazed at his familiar smile and broken tooth. She remembered the hairclip, the walls of the neighbours’ house and the shade of the tree, then felt her heart take flight once more.” [Nayrouz Qarmout]
In Asmaa al-Ghul‘s “You and I”, perhaps my favorite story of the collection, I was carried away, forgetting the setting. It begins “I set out for the university today, knowing the way, and yet not knowing it.
Looking up at the sky, I see an unfamiliar cluster of clouds behind the grey, and stumble, as I always do, on one of the grates to the drain that runs along the side of the street all the way to the end. Our neighbourhood is jam-packed with grates, as it is with school kids, carts selling just about anyyhing, vegetable stands, and a butcher who cling s to a dangling sheep as if he were warming it from the bitterly cold wind.”
And this is the description of some of the school children:
“Over there, that young girl cries feverishly standing over a drain – her money’s probably fallen down the grate – anxiously, she tries to slide a thin stick down it, but to no avail; this kid here eats a Clementine – his friend tries to snatch a piece, their laughter escalates, bounding off the clouds above; that other girl there hugs her younger sister with one hand, as if to warm her, while adjusting her ponytail with the other – they stay like that, young and intimate, with their blue shirts and smocks, unchanged no matter how each new year passes.”
One or two stories deal more directly with the impact of political oppression, but they are not infused with religious zeal but rather the humane struggle to survive and live with dignity.
There are ten stories in the collection, four by women. Each has a different translator and I felt some may have been better translated than others, though I didn’t feel this harmed the book, but rather allowed individuality in the writing styles.
Atef Abu Saif, the editor and writer of the first story in the collection, provides an informative introduction outlining how the history of Gaza since 1967 and the writing of the short story go hand in hand. Because of the impossibility of being published in Gaza, writings were smuggled out of the country and necessarily were shorter than 100 pages, most frequently short stories.
A very well put together book, and one that should be available in western world libraries. In Canada there is a “contest” of books in which through panel discussion a book is chosen that best breaks down barriers. If such a thing existed globally, this book would be a good candidate.
Addendum: A HUGE thank you to my public library for having this on their new books shelf. A much appreciated random read.