בדיירי משנה וקורי עכביש חוזר נקאש לבגדאד של שנות הארבעים, עיר מרובת לשונות ותרבויות, ובונה מחדש את הפסיפס החברתי והלשוני, היהודי-מוסלמי, של העיר. הוא מראה לנו את יחסי השכנות, המתחים והחיים המשותפים בבית הדירות הבגדאדי, שעומד איתן אל מול רוחות השינוי והפיצול שמביאים איתם המלחמות, הכיבושים הקולוניאליים והמאבקים הלאומיים. אולם גם הבית הזה נכנע לבסוף לתמורות הזמן ולמתחים הלאומיים, וקורי העכביש הנטווים סביבו יוצרים קירות ומחיצות בין דרי הבית, מפרידים בין יהודים למוסלמים, בין עיראק לישראל, ומותירים את הבית עזוב, מנושל מדייריו היהודים.
ברומן זה, מהמרכזיים במכלול יצירתו של נקאש, מבקש הסופר היהודי־עיראקי לשוב לרגע הטרגי של עקירת יהודי בגדאד מתוך נקודת המבט של בגדאד העיר ובאופן המציג ריבוי סיפורים ונקודות מבט. נקאש מעניק פנים ושמות להתלבטויות של יהודי עיראק באשר לעזיבת מולדתם, שהייתה גם מולדת חלומו להיות סופר ערבי, חלום שהוא לא נטש לאורך כל חייו. כך הוא יוצר מעין "בית יעקוביאן" עיראקי, שמהדהד את האירועים ההיסטוריים של אמצע המאה העשרים, ונע בין זיכרון העבר והטראומה של הפרהוד ב־1941, לבין הטראומה העתידית של העזיבה הכפויה של המולדת בשנים 1951-1950, אותה "רוחא בּלא רג'עה", הליכה ללא חזרה.
את הרומן תרגמה אחותו של הסופר, רות נקאש ויגיסר, תוך עבודת דיאלוג עם אחותה סמירה יוסף שערכה את התרגום. הרומן תורגם במתכונת התרגום הדו־לשוני של סדרת מַכְּתוּבּ مكتوب, בצוות שכלל, מלבד המתרגמת ועורכת התרגום, גם את העורכת הספרותית פרופ׳ חביבה פדיה, שהוסיפה אחרית דבר, עורכת הלשון אמירה בנימיני־נבו, והעורכים האחראים פרופ׳ יהודה שנהב־שהרבני ופרופ׳ יונתן מנדל.
Samir Naqqash (Hebrew: סמיר נקאש, Arabic: سمير نقاش) (1938 in Baghdad – 6 July 2004, in Petah Tikva) was an Israeli novelist, short-story writer, and playwright who immigrated from Iraq at the age of 13.
In the 1970s, he studied at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and received his degree in Arabic literature. He was well known in the Arab world and among the Iraqi community in Israel, but only one of his works was translated into Hebrew. Naqqash won the Israeli Prime Ministerial Award for Arabic literature.
________ Josh Calvo on what ought to be trans'd out of the Arabic :: "...everything by Samir Naqqash (who constitutes, by the way, another obsession of mine, and after Barakat has my translator’s eye; his longest Ulysses-like multivocal tome of colloquial Iraqi dialects entitled Nuzuh wa-Khayt ash-Shaytan (Tenants and Cobwebs) will be published in late 2018.)" https://theuntranslated.wordpress.com...
This is indeed a difficult read, as the forward says, but I really liked it. It tells the story of the diminishing Jewish community of Baghdad in the late 1940s and 1950, during which time the state of Israel was established, and some Arab countries, including Iraq, took out their anger about that on their own Jewish communities. The last third of the book is threaded with decisions of whether to go to Israel or stay and stick it out.
The book was written in Arabic in the 1980s, and is just coming out in English now. I think there's a lot of dialect and style written into the original, probably, that we're missing in translation. Every once in a while one character will give another a hard time about changing their dialect to fit in with a different crowd. I say this because it makes the story a little hard to follow, because it's stream-of-consciousness style and the character in whose head we are switches every couple pages. And there are a lot of characters. It took me a good 50 pages to start feeling comfortable with the characters and keeping them straight. That's what makes the book difficult.
But it was worth it. I learned so much about the history of the Jewish community in Iraq, and the characters were intriguing and well developed. There's the Shakespearean trope of most of the characters seeming crazier than the one guy in the story that is generally recognized as hopelessly crazy and useless to society -- he has a good deal of wisdom and helped me keep track of what was actually going on. The family relationships were what felt most foreign to me and were the most eye-opening. It's a cast of characters that is hard to love, partly because we know so much of the random and often desperate thoughts running through their heads. I would imagine many of us think ugly things when pushed to the brink. But as an ensemble I found it breathtaking and touching, in the way I feel after an excellent play that really connects with me.
I got a copy to review from the publisher through Edelweiss.
If like me you enjoy being immersed in another time and place you might enjoy this book but prepare to get hopelessly lost in the labyrinth of a lost culture ,a lost language ( Baghdadi Jewish) and sadly also a lost voice who lives on only through this book .
It seems to me that the author took a huge chance by not having a normal narrative arc based on one or two protagonist’s stories. Instead, the “arc” is the history of the time and place within the microcosm of a Baghdad apartment complex’s characters’ reactions to it, almost exclusively as interior dialogue. Very unusual in my reading experience. And it worked in a big way, at least for me. It was amazing how the author was able to delineate character, define relationships, provide back story, tension and suspense, plus plot, such as it is, using just the thoughts of his many characters.
The book ended up being very involving, in the lives, thoughts and decisions of the various players and the history of the times. After the final sentence, my feeling was one of great sadness, for loss of the characters’ lives in the country they knew and loved and for the demise of an ancient culture, all because of fear, anger and hatred, something sadly repeated over and over again in history. The term “separation anxiety” seems appropriate to me - in the denouement of the characters’ relationships to each other and to their homeland, plus my own feelings at the end of the book. I grew to care about all of the players and felt a need to know what happened to them after the ending exclamation of “Da, da, da!” articulated by the person in the novel thought by everyone to be insane, a possible reference by the author to the illogic and unreason in our world per Dadaism.
Be aware that there are many characters with unfamiliar names to most western readers. However, there is a helpful Cast of Characters section until one becomes acclimatized. Also, at times some are referred to as “Abu” (father of) or “Umm” (mother of) plus the name of one’s first-born child instead the person’s given name. I understand that this form within the culture represents closeness and respect by the speaker to the one spoken to.