Farewell Damascus , set in the city during the early 1960s, is both a paean to a beloved homeland and an ode to human dignity. Armed with her customary humor, pathos, and knack for suspense, Ghada Samman fearlessly tackles issues that roil societies across the globe to this day.
English: Ghadah Samman. غادة أحمد السمان (مواليد 1942) كاتبة وأديبة سورية. ولدت في دمشق لأسرة شامية عريقة، ولها صلة قربى بالشاعر السوري نزار قباني. والدها الدكتور أحمد السمان حاصل على شهادة الدكتوراه من السوربون في الاقتصاد السياسي وكان رئيسا للجامعة السورية ووزيرا للتعليم في سوريا لفترة من الوقت. تأثرت كثيرا به بسبب وفاة والدتها وهي صغيرة. كان والدها محبا للعلم والأدب العالمي ومولعا بالتراث العربي في الوقت نفسه، وهذا كله منح شخصية غادة الأدبية والإنسانية أبعادا متعددة ومتنوعة. سرعان ما اصطدمت غادة بقلمها وشخصها بالمجتمع الشامي (الدمشقي) الذي كان "شديد المحافظة" إبان نشوئها فيه. أصدرت مجموعتها القصصية الأولى "عيناك قدري" في العام 1962 واعتبرت يومها واحدة من الكاتبات النسويات اللواتي ظهرن في تلك الفترة، مثل كوليت خوري وليلى بعلبكي، لكن غادة استمرت واستطاعت ان تقدم أدبا مختلفا ومتميزا خرجت به من الاطار الضيق لمشاكل المرأة والحركات النسوية إلى افاق اجتماعية ونفسية وإنسانية.
:الدراسة والاعمال
تخرجت من الجامعة السورية في دمشق عام 1963 حاصلة على شهادة الليسانس في الأدب الإنجليزي، حصلت على شهادة الماجستير في مسرح اللامعقول من الجامعة الأمريكية في بيروت، عملت غادة في الصحافة وبرز اسمها أكثر وصارت واحدة من أهم نجمات الصحافة هناك يوم كانت بيروت مركزا للأشعاع الثقافي. ظهر إثر ذلك في مجموعتها القصصية الثانية " لا بحر في بيروت" عام 1965. ثم سافرت غادة إلى أوروبا وتنقلت بين معظم العواصم الاوربية وعملت كمراسلة صحفية لكنها عمدت أيضا إلى اكتشاف العالم وصقل شخصيتها الأدبية بالتعرف على مناهل الأدب والثقافة هناك، وظهر أثر ذلك في مجموعتها الثالثة "ليل الغرباء" عام 1966 التي أظهرت نضجا كبيرا في مسيرتها الأدبية وجعلت كبار النقاد آنذاك مثل محمود أمين العالم يعترفون بها وبتميزها. ورغم أن توجها الفكري اقرب إلى اللبرالية الغربية، إلا أنها ربما كانت حينها تبدي ميلا إلى التوجهات اليسارية السائدة آنذاك في بعض المدن العربية وقد زارت عدن في اليمن الجنوبي في عهدها الماركسي وافردت لعدن شيئا من كتاباتها. كانت هزيمة حزيران 1967 بمثابة صدمة كبيرة لغادة السمان وجيلها، يومها كتبت مقالها الشهير "أحمل عاري إلى لندن"، كانت من القلائل الذين حذروا من استخدام مصطلح "النكسة" وأثره التخديري على الشعب العربي. لم تصدر غادة بعد الهزيمة شيئا لفترة من الوقت لكن عملها في الصحافة زادها قربا من الواقع الاجتماعي وكتبت في تلك الفترة مقالات صحفية كونت سمادا دسما لمواد أدبية ستكتبها لاحقا. في عام 1973 أصدرت مجموعتها الرابعة "رحيل المرافئ القديمة" والتي اعتبرها البعض الأهم بين كل مجاميعها حيث قدمت بقالب أدبي بارع المأزق الذي يعيشه المثقف العربي والهوة السحيقة بين فكرة وسلوكه. في أواخر عام 1974 أصدرت روايتها "بيروت 75" والتي غاصت فيها بعيدا عن القناع الجميل لسويسرا الشرق إلى حيث القاع المشوه المحتقن، وقالت على لسان عرافة من شخصيات الرواية "أرى الدم.. أرى كثيرا من الدم" وما لبثت أن نشبت الحرب الأهلية بعد بضعة أشهر من صدور الرواية. مع روايتيها "كوابيس بيروت " 1977 و"ليلة المليار" 1986 تكرست غادة كواحدة من أهم الروائيين والرئيات العرب.
This is the first time I read a book set in Syria. I know so little really. News flashes of war and sadness have become synonymous with this country, so we (foreigners) rarely hear or don't hear enough about its beauty and spirit. I have lived so many emotions through Zain, a girl who is determined to fight for freedom at any cost, going against society, most of her family, neighbours, clerics, and colleagues and government workers whose scorn and poison spread like wildfire, harming the country from the inside too. However, Zain's heart is eternally thankful for and draws strength from Mt. Qasioun, the Umayyad Mosque, the neighbourhoods of Damascus, the Barada River, her beloved father, mother, and grandmother. She reminisces about her uncle's wall fountain, the scents of jasmine, basil, roses, and bitter orange there, or a cup of Turkish coffee scented with rosewater. She mourns the fighting spirit that once liberated Syria, now shutting her away from her homeland and instead devouring or exiling all those who dare question its power or traditions. I could go on forever about this beautiful book. Zain inspires us to be truthful, accountable and courageous, to fight for what is right, and to live and love fiercely.
Loved this book, although I did not think that the translation served it well. It could have been translated more beautifully, more lyrically. The use of the word 'pumped' to describe enthusiasm or excitement in 1960s Damascus just doesn't sound very authentic.
Despite the shortcomings of the translation, the book is well worth the read.
It's the first Kindle book that I really enjoyed and appreciated. It must be special to be able to work, even in this format.
The struggle to be an independent woman living a fulfilled life in a world that doesn’t really care what happens to her is rendered with sharp-eyed clarity and unnerving charm.
I appreciate that Samman is trying to encourage women's independence and freedom. Nevertheless, this is a poorly-written book that is all telling, no showing. Author has no sense of how to distinguish characters from one another, how to achieve appropriate pacing in her plot, or how to set a scene in a way that provokes an emotional response from the reader.
Example: In one scene, a character is raped, and immediately after the attack is over, she asks her rapist, "So where's your mother? Didn't you say she wanted to see me?" (quoted verbatim from the English translation). Then she is indignant that her rapist doesn't walk her to her car and escort her home. WHAT? This is not a realistic portrayal of what any woman would be thinking or feeling following a sexual assault.
This book is a case of good intentions, poor execution.
This was absolutely beautiful. I loved how it defied a lot of cultural and societal norms of the time and as a mixed Syrian-English woman from Damascus I loved learning about a time period of the country and city when I wasn’t alive to see it. I’m so here for more Arab feminist literature!
Zain was a joy to read and love through - but the one reason I didn’t give this 5 stars is because I could tell the translation wasn’t as good as it could be… if you can read Arabic I feel like reading this in it’s intended language would flow better as some of the sentences didn’t flow well at all. Arabic is such a gorgeous and layered language so I feel attempting to translate some words and phrases into such a limited language as English can be difficult, so hats off to the translator.
Overall, absolutely read this book. I felt so nostalgic when reading about Damascus.
this is my second read of one of ghada's works. don't know why she likes tragic and midair finale. repetition makes for a good portion of the novel. I think the idea and its essence where thrown by the attitude. in all, it's interesting and "beatiful" well beyond the middle. then all loses sense. one has to be related to the Syrian scene or highly loving to be fully immersed. I have to admit I enjoyed it, and wasn't that awful of start for 2018.
This seems to be a fictionalised account of Ghada Samman's own early life, told through her alter-ego Zain, an aspiring young writer condemned by conservative Damascene society but fêted by the literary classes for her outspoken feminist views. She falls foul of the lecherous Lieutenant Nahi by shunning his advances and only manages to escape to Beirut by the skin of her teeth and the help of influential friends. She thrives in the more liberal bohemian atmosphere of Beirut but we end on a tragic note with the death of her father, her sadness multiplied by her inability to attend his funeral for fear if arrest. Nancy Roberts' translation pushes the story along briskly enough, but I could have done without the US colloquialisms! Eg "doggone worry wart"! I ask you!
The book was pretty good, it was my first time reading an Arabic book translated into English it was actually well translated. Here come some spoilers, some of the men seemed creepy but also the ending wasn’t satisfying but I think it makes sense since her father passed and it dawned on her. But other than that I gave it a 3.5 stars.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Narrative constantly shifts between first and third person: neither with any subtlety.
Characters, whose voices are indistinguishable, have internal voices with the subtlety of bricks. Thinking rebellious/misogynist/nervous thoughts in clunky childhood crayon letters. The third person offers a very basic commentary on the very basic psychology. Repetitive, obvious, and simple.
Rebellious Zain follows her own path against the norms in the new Syrian Arab republic, leading to a new life in exile. Ghada Samman is an important voice. Why are women authors, especially women of colour, still not taken as seriously as white men?