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I hjärtat av hjärtat av ett annat land
För första gången i bokform utkommer nu författaren, konstnären, journalisten och feministikonen Etel Adnan på svenska med I hjärtat av hjärtat av ett annat land i översättning av Iman Mohammed och Jenny Tunedal.
Etel Adnan föddes 1925 i Libanon med föräldrar från Grekland och Syrien. Efter studier på Sorbonne flyttade hon 1955 till USA och San Franciscobukten.
Hennes tidiga verk skrev hon på franska men övergick sedan till att främst skriva på engelska. Adnan säger själv att hon alltsedan protesterna mot Vietnamnkriget identifierat sig som en amerikansk poet och har vid ett flertal tillfällen prisats och omnämnts som den främsta arabisk-amerikanska författaren. Hon är idag bosatt i Paris.
Adnan skriver experimentellt och språkligt utmanande med ett akut politiskt syfte, där hennes författarskap utgår från den kolonialiserade och kvinnans position och kretsar kring såväl naturens skönhet som mänskligt våld.
I I hjärtat av hjärtat av ett annat land utgår Adnan från William H. Gass och rör sig mellan Beirut och San Francisco i en såväl personlig som politisk lyrisk prosa om de turbulenta, sneda och av kolonialismen påverkade relationerna mellan arab- och västvärlden. Ett flöde av små erfarenheter, störningar, minimala extaser, eller knappt märkbara nederlag, detta som sammantaget utgör vårt dagliga liv.
Etel Adnan föddes 1925 i Libanon med föräldrar från Grekland och Syrien. Efter studier på Sorbonne flyttade hon 1955 till USA och San Franciscobukten.
Hennes tidiga verk skrev hon på franska men övergick sedan till att främst skriva på engelska. Adnan säger själv att hon alltsedan protesterna mot Vietnamnkriget identifierat sig som en amerikansk poet och har vid ett flertal tillfällen prisats och omnämnts som den främsta arabisk-amerikanska författaren. Hon är idag bosatt i Paris.
Adnan skriver experimentellt och språkligt utmanande med ett akut politiskt syfte, där hennes författarskap utgår från den kolonialiserade och kvinnans position och kretsar kring såväl naturens skönhet som mänskligt våld.
I I hjärtat av hjärtat av ett annat land utgår Adnan från William H. Gass och rör sig mellan Beirut och San Francisco i en såväl personlig som politisk lyrisk prosa om de turbulenta, sneda och av kolonialismen påverkade relationerna mellan arab- och västvärlden. Ett flöde av små erfarenheter, störningar, minimala extaser, eller knappt märkbara nederlag, detta som sammantaget utgör vårt dagliga liv.
142 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2004
26 people are currently reading
593 people want to read
About the author
Etel Adnan
92 books354 followersEtel Adnan was born in Beirut, Lebanon in 1925. She studied philosophy at the Sorbonne, U.C. Berkeley, and at Harvard, and taught at Dominican College in San Rafael, California, from 1958–1972.
In solidarity with the Algerian War of Independence (1954–1962), Adnan began to resist the political implications of writing in French and became a painter. Then, through her participation in the movement against the Vietnam War (1959–1975), she began to write poetry and became, in her words, “an American poet.” In 1972, she returned to Beirut and worked as cultural editor for two daily newspapers—first for Al Safa, then for L’Orient le Jour. Her novel Sitt Marie-Rose, published in Paris in 1977, won the France-Pays Arabes award and has been translated into more than ten languages.
In 1977, Adnan re-established herself in California, making Sausalito her home, with frequent stays in Paris. Adnan is the author of more than a dozen books in English, including Journey to Mount Tamalpais (1986), The Arab Apocalypse (1989), In the Heart of the Heart of Another Country (2005), and Sea and Fog (2012), winner of the Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Poetry and the California Book Award for Poetry. Her most recent books are Night (2016) and Surge (2018). In 2014, she was awarded one of France’s highest cultural honors: l’Ordre de Chevalier des Arts et Lettres. Numerous museums have presented solo exhibitions of Adnan’s work, including SFMoMA; Zentrum Paul Klee; Institute du Monde Arabe, Paris; Serpentine Galleries; and Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art, Qatar.
In solidarity with the Algerian War of Independence (1954–1962), Adnan began to resist the political implications of writing in French and became a painter. Then, through her participation in the movement against the Vietnam War (1959–1975), she began to write poetry and became, in her words, “an American poet.” In 1972, she returned to Beirut and worked as cultural editor for two daily newspapers—first for Al Safa, then for L’Orient le Jour. Her novel Sitt Marie-Rose, published in Paris in 1977, won the France-Pays Arabes award and has been translated into more than ten languages.
In 1977, Adnan re-established herself in California, making Sausalito her home, with frequent stays in Paris. Adnan is the author of more than a dozen books in English, including Journey to Mount Tamalpais (1986), The Arab Apocalypse (1989), In the Heart of the Heart of Another Country (2005), and Sea and Fog (2012), winner of the Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Poetry and the California Book Award for Poetry. Her most recent books are Night (2016) and Surge (2018). In 2014, she was awarded one of France’s highest cultural honors: l’Ordre de Chevalier des Arts et Lettres. Numerous museums have presented solo exhibitions of Adnan’s work, including SFMoMA; Zentrum Paul Klee; Institute du Monde Arabe, Paris; Serpentine Galleries; and Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art, Qatar.
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Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews
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March 31, 2009Etal Adnan makes it very clear that the name for her novel came to her after reading William Gass’s “In the heart of the heart of the country.” Gass’s work consists of five short stories that revolve around loneliness, isolation and lost love in and about the fictional town of B, Indiana. However, Etal’s story is more complicated than William’s. While Gass pronounces homesickness for the town of B Indiana, Etal is struggling through an exile from Lebanon to California, a later exile from California to Lebanon and then another exile to California. In her story, Etal always feels “exiled from my former exile” (4).
So many sections of the book called out to me. I underlined line after line until I realized I would be underlining the entire book! But here are some of my favorite parts:
under Education page p. 26
“I love my roses: they tell me that love comes with thorns,
which I wish I had known sooner.
But God forbid that I will go to roses for an education.”
under Business pg. 27
“They need a change they will tell you;
if it’s impossible to move into a new house (or a new morality)
then move away from your old appearance…”
under Politics pg. 32
“From ashes of the physical heart memories rise with a life of their own and that’s what people call ‘voices.’”
under Education pg. 33
“Thinking wouldn’t function w/o memory, for even the present is memory aware of itself. We want memories to join the world, be objects to which we can return at will, and not what they are, electronic images, ephemeral waves, uncertain visitations from the past, ever-new creations of our brain.
That’s probably why (as a species) we invented writing: to gratify ourselves with the illusion—and the comfort—that certain things, certain mental operations will be arrested in their becoming and turned into stored, refrigerated materials.”
All of these lines are within a ten-page range of each other. The first quote on pg. 26 I love simply for its truth and beauty.
The latter three focus on our obsession with the past. We seek change and if we cannot find it, we change what we can. But in doing so we are not using our potential to the fullest, which Etal knows and mocks. It is certainly within our realm of possibility to change our house or morality. But why do we want to change? Changing implies starting from anew, but as Etal says, we cannot function without memory, can never start anew because even trying to will create a memory. And yet, our concept of memories is an illusion. They are not boxes calmly waiting to be opened when needed. They are emotions and feelings that constantly interact with our present, thus we even in our present we are not relieved of our past
So many sections of the book called out to me. I underlined line after line until I realized I would be underlining the entire book! But here are some of my favorite parts:
under Education page p. 26
“I love my roses: they tell me that love comes with thorns,
which I wish I had known sooner.
But God forbid that I will go to roses for an education.”
under Business pg. 27
“They need a change they will tell you;
if it’s impossible to move into a new house (or a new morality)
then move away from your old appearance…”
under Politics pg. 32
“From ashes of the physical heart memories rise with a life of their own and that’s what people call ‘voices.’”
under Education pg. 33
“Thinking wouldn’t function w/o memory, for even the present is memory aware of itself. We want memories to join the world, be objects to which we can return at will, and not what they are, electronic images, ephemeral waves, uncertain visitations from the past, ever-new creations of our brain.
That’s probably why (as a species) we invented writing: to gratify ourselves with the illusion—and the comfort—that certain things, certain mental operations will be arrested in their becoming and turned into stored, refrigerated materials.”
All of these lines are within a ten-page range of each other. The first quote on pg. 26 I love simply for its truth and beauty.
The latter three focus on our obsession with the past. We seek change and if we cannot find it, we change what we can. But in doing so we are not using our potential to the fullest, which Etal knows and mocks. It is certainly within our realm of possibility to change our house or morality. But why do we want to change? Changing implies starting from anew, but as Etal says, we cannot function without memory, can never start anew because even trying to will create a memory. And yet, our concept of memories is an illusion. They are not boxes calmly waiting to be opened when needed. They are emotions and feelings that constantly interact with our present, thus we even in our present we are not relieved of our past
May 22, 2025
An incredible, surprising book. Very different to other books I’ve read but could be one a new favorite. Everyone read !!
November 16, 2025
Between 4 and 4.5 stars.
Etel has this characteristic disarmament to everything she voices — not a toothlessness or innocence, because the subjects and theses can be brutal or obscene — but a sort of live wire of wonderment that prevents the entire structure from drying out and feeling dusty.
It serves this book well, and I think without it parts of the book would not have been successful.
As it is, a really important poetic reflection on place and allegiance and home and war.
The best piece here is To Be in a Time of War, which is as much a text of 2025 as it is of 2003.
Etel has this characteristic disarmament to everything she voices — not a toothlessness or innocence, because the subjects and theses can be brutal or obscene — but a sort of live wire of wonderment that prevents the entire structure from drying out and feeling dusty.
It serves this book well, and I think without it parts of the book would not have been successful.
As it is, a really important poetic reflection on place and allegiance and home and war.
The best piece here is To Be in a Time of War, which is as much a text of 2025 as it is of 2003.
April 13, 2024
One for the ages.
May 30, 2022
'WEATHER
Spring remains deadly, like red roses. Starting on the second solstice of the year it makes vegetation sprout and our shoulders grow wings. We fly high above orchards, buzz around mountain peaks, spawn, leave nests, engage in fist fights, seek former passions, go out to sea. In Delphi spring smells of sage; the olive fields sway their silver-green masses. We come close to the resurrection of the old myths. Elsewhere in the Mediterranean bushes turn pugnacious, poppies bleed, cyclamen compete with butterflies in catching the light. It’s the time when the weather envelops us like a warm bath. There are other weathers too. A snow storm has eaten up travelers on the North Plains and thrown cowboys and cows into the core of the fury. They were carried miles away from their barns and fell, heavy and dead. Weather is matter’s pure volition. One can experience ecstasy on February days over the Bay Bridge: the air is crisp and makes us weightless. It suspends our thoughts and we become pure life. We are sponges and absorb the weather, our habitat. When some shadow glides under the sun it glides over our eyes too. Fog privileges memory and rains alter our sense of time.'
(from 'Twenty-five Years Later', p29)
Spring remains deadly, like red roses. Starting on the second solstice of the year it makes vegetation sprout and our shoulders grow wings. We fly high above orchards, buzz around mountain peaks, spawn, leave nests, engage in fist fights, seek former passions, go out to sea. In Delphi spring smells of sage; the olive fields sway their silver-green masses. We come close to the resurrection of the old myths. Elsewhere in the Mediterranean bushes turn pugnacious, poppies bleed, cyclamen compete with butterflies in catching the light. It’s the time when the weather envelops us like a warm bath. There are other weathers too. A snow storm has eaten up travelers on the North Plains and thrown cowboys and cows into the core of the fury. They were carried miles away from their barns and fell, heavy and dead. Weather is matter’s pure volition. One can experience ecstasy on February days over the Bay Bridge: the air is crisp and makes us weightless. It suspends our thoughts and we become pure life. We are sponges and absorb the weather, our habitat. When some shadow glides under the sun it glides over our eyes too. Fog privileges memory and rains alter our sense of time.'
(from 'Twenty-five Years Later', p29)
January 1, 2025
3.5-4
My favourites, other than the long one I forget the name of where each line starts with to - , which really encapsulates the feeling of living a normal life while knowing what is happening in your country abroad or in any other country something horrible is happening in:
"...To do as if things mattered. To look calm, polite when Gaza is under siege and when a blackish tide slowly engulfs the Palestinians. How not to die of rage?..." Imagine when this was written...
People - "...But another kind of poverty is flooding, is pervasive, I mean moral poverty: the good people of Sausalito applaud and rejoice when their government bombs out of existence big chunks of Iraq and showers that country's population with depleted uranium. Their side's weapons of mass destruction are the democratic and peace-loving messengers of the New Order: missiles are the new prophets."
Politics - "Television works diferently from cocaine: it dumbs the spirit and creates a kinship with cartoons. Children have grown tails and are asking to perform in Disneyland and parents hurry to agree. Soon, governments (I mean the few that will remain) will have no trouble running a depleted planet." (LOL)
My favourites, other than the long one I forget the name of where each line starts with to - , which really encapsulates the feeling of living a normal life while knowing what is happening in your country abroad or in any other country something horrible is happening in:
"...To do as if things mattered. To look calm, polite when Gaza is under siege and when a blackish tide slowly engulfs the Palestinians. How not to die of rage?..." Imagine when this was written...
People - "...But another kind of poverty is flooding, is pervasive, I mean moral poverty: the good people of Sausalito applaud and rejoice when their government bombs out of existence big chunks of Iraq and showers that country's population with depleted uranium. Their side's weapons of mass destruction are the democratic and peace-loving messengers of the New Order: missiles are the new prophets."
Politics - "Television works diferently from cocaine: it dumbs the spirit and creates a kinship with cartoons. Children have grown tails and are asking to perform in Disneyland and parents hurry to agree. Soon, governments (I mean the few that will remain) will have no trouble running a depleted planet." (LOL)
May 2, 2025
passage i return to; to be in a time of war
To go to the dentist early morning then drive back and come home.
To lie down, waiting for the news at noon. To have a headache.
To be impatient. To vomit the war. To greet the fog with joy, with
tears. To find tenderness in stones. To greet Sarah Miles, with
tea, with cakes. To miss the news. To chat. To say goodbye. To
start a valise. To forget the war. To never stop thinking about it.
To ignore the beauty of the day. To water the garden. To slobber
with disgust. To notice the porcelain blue of the sky. To follow
a cloud. To encounter other blues. To come back to Earth. To fly
over hills. To feel the breeze. To read an invisible line which
says that in Baghdad people die ferociously. To face the mind’s
emptiness.
To go to the dentist early morning then drive back and come home.
To lie down, waiting for the news at noon. To have a headache.
To be impatient. To vomit the war. To greet the fog with joy, with
tears. To find tenderness in stones. To greet Sarah Miles, with
tea, with cakes. To miss the news. To chat. To say goodbye. To
start a valise. To forget the war. To never stop thinking about it.
To ignore the beauty of the day. To water the garden. To slobber
with disgust. To notice the porcelain blue of the sky. To follow
a cloud. To encounter other blues. To come back to Earth. To fly
over hills. To feel the breeze. To read an invisible line which
says that in Baghdad people die ferociously. To face the mind’s
emptiness.
May 17, 2019
"Jag tänker på vatten, ofta: jag kan inte hålla det i mina händer särskilt länge, skära det med en kniv eller förstå varför det rinner så lyckligt. Vi tänker oss att någonting är säkert, men sen saknas ändå en liten skruv, ingenting fungerar, förnuftet är hjälplöst. Ändå, när jag älskar vatten har jag inga problem med att vara nära dess väsen."
detta va så vackert och lärorikt!!!!! det känns som att stå vid havet och hålla en snäcka mot örat, få dessa meningar upplästa för sig samtidigt som man har andra handen i sanden. jag måste läsa den i sitt orginalspråk dock för att verkligen uppleva det i sin ärligaste och riktigaste form. men så länge räcker detta o det håller länge <3 (less)
detta va så vackert och lärorikt!!!!! det känns som att stå vid havet och hålla en snäcka mot örat, få dessa meningar upplästa för sig samtidigt som man har andra handen i sanden. jag måste läsa den i sitt orginalspråk dock för att verkligen uppleva det i sin ärligaste och riktigaste form. men så länge räcker detta o det håller länge <3 (less)
March 14, 2025
I too once dreamed of becoming the Ibn Khaldun of America, and not de Tocqueville, but the Chinngis Khan of Montana, the Subotai of the Northwestern Rain Shadow. I could never be chief Leshi, but I retraced his attack route on Seattle from his landing. Now I go to school and write operational theory only my professors read. I post news stories in a bloated Signal group chat. So I don’t understand how there are neocameralists without patchwork. How there are Palestinians without a Palestine. A Palestinian Authority without sovereignty.
Snippets. Fragments. In conversation. In another's scaffolding. Still to relevant. Still another's context.
Snippets. Fragments. In conversation. In another's scaffolding. Still to relevant. Still another's context.
September 18, 2025
“Why would some anarchy ever erupt in this chartered, measured, and parceled world where living has become theater?”
Adnan’s memoir finds life encapsulated in the small gestures, a radio buzzing about the war, a coffee brewing in the morning, the walk under trees. The body becomes a landscape, a site of politics, wires, weather, churches, houses, windows, and shuffles them all around. To be in a time of war suspends the reader. The lines begin in the infinite and refuse to stray into past or future. Everything happens at once. We find ourselves somewhere on that road that leads to the slaughterhouse, with nowhere else to look.
Adnan’s memoir finds life encapsulated in the small gestures, a radio buzzing about the war, a coffee brewing in the morning, the walk under trees. The body becomes a landscape, a site of politics, wires, weather, churches, houses, windows, and shuffles them all around. To be in a time of war suspends the reader. The lines begin in the infinite and refuse to stray into past or future. Everything happens at once. We find ourselves somewhere on that road that leads to the slaughterhouse, with nowhere else to look.
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December 22, 2025“Final Vital Data:
I do not paint apples, I draw inkpots. I do not climb mountains, I sit in cafes. I don’t travel but buy picture books of exotic places and I do not swim but write about the sea.”
“The Church:
Since churches, mosques, or synagogues don’t provide shelter for the homeless I developed a dislike for them. Students of creative writing ought to write Dante, asking him to enlarge his hell and make room for these obsolete structures.”
I do not paint apples, I draw inkpots. I do not climb mountains, I sit in cafes. I don’t travel but buy picture books of exotic places and I do not swim but write about the sea.”
“The Church:
Since churches, mosques, or synagogues don’t provide shelter for the homeless I developed a dislike for them. Students of creative writing ought to write Dante, asking him to enlarge his hell and make room for these obsolete structures.”
December 9, 2023
Not as energetically charged as some of her other work. Loss of depth and poignancy here. Some of this is flat, diaristic lazy and self-indulged. Do some writers rest easy on their laurels while still spinning yarn? For her reputation I wanted more, from reading her other books I wanted more here - I only have one more book of hers to read, generally I'm a fan of Adnan's work.
August 3, 2024
A challenging book that begs to be read slowly and contemplated, then dissected and re-read again. I found myself struggling to make the connections I needed to make along the way. The final chapter on the Iraq war was particularly powerful.
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July 15, 2020i liked it.
September 25, 2021
ouch to the heart <3
March 20, 2022
from "Education"
"When I'm happy I go to the beach, or wish I could. When my friends arrive too early, I put on Monteverdi. When I read Plato, I erase everything else."
"When I'm happy I go to the beach, or wish I could. When my friends arrive too early, I put on Monteverdi. When I read Plato, I erase everything else."
November 23, 2023
lush, lurid, unflinching. i keep returning.
May 21, 2024
the last chapter, to be in a time of war, is distinct from the rest of the book and is exceptional.
August 17, 2024
A seeker on the path wanting to look at understand and know “the narrow and long road that leads the world to the slaughterhouse.”
March 10, 2025
It didn't coalesce for me, but it did make me miss California.
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December 10, 2011I do not have much patience for post-modern writers. I like the philosophy of the everyday, but writing that is too much sit-and-think is irritating. Etel Adnan walks this line rather masterfully, so I don't know if I am annoyed or impressed. Probably both. A good example is "To Be In a Time of War." At first, when I realized I was going to have to read 15 pages of sentences all beginning in the infinitive, I despaired. But it grows on you, you know. She's captured that constant torture of grieving, the kind of sadness that is not on your mind all the time but is always with you just the same. Guilt that you, in your privelege and safety, can't feel guilty every minute of every day. I get that.
In my infinite love of organization, I like that she takes the same form and approaches it at different times of her life, so we get a good idea of what changed and what stays the same.
In my infinite love of organization, I like that she takes the same form and approaches it at different times of her life, so we get a good idea of what changed and what stays the same.
December 19, 2008
This is a brilliant memoir that captures philosophy and politics. The author uses sections that repeat throughout the book: Politics; My House; Vital Data; Weather; Wires; Another Person; Place, etc... She interweaves paragraphs, within sections that all fall in a certain time frame. Born in Lebanon, living in California, going back to Beirut, she is acutely aware of war and this book ends with a stunning chapter during the Iraq war.
My first review didn't make it. I had quoted potent pieces from the book, which I wrote down in a journal since what I read is from the library. I don't have time to do this again. But I encourage you to read this book!
My first review didn't make it. I had quoted potent pieces from the book, which I wrote down in a journal since what I read is from the library. I don't have time to do this again. But I encourage you to read this book!
August 31, 2021
I really really enjoyed these autobiographical sketches around a repeated sequence of words and the associations they evoked at different times in Adnan's life. Through the free-flowing, at times lyrical, at times wry sequence emerge not only a self-portrait but a whole edifice of places and events acting upon a singular lens like Adnan's. In light of the book ending right around the 2003 invasion of Iraq it is particularly interesting to read it now for it recalls events that seem so far back but are no less important today than they were then.
February 24, 2009
Inspired by William Gass's collection of stories titled IN THE HEART OF THE HEART OF THE COUNTRY. This reads a it like prose poetry. As a writer I find it provocative, but I don't really know what to make of it. Haven't finished it yet.
August 7, 2013
Genius. Gorgeous. Timeless.
December 20, 2023
I will be reading this book forever
Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews