Thought by many Syrians to be the most influential novel of its time, this first novel of Muhammad Kamil al-Khatib is a riveting examination of Syrian political and social life during the 1980s. With a multi-voiced narration carried, like a river, from one voice to another, al-Khatib paints concise, vivid portraits of a disparate group of people in Damascus, ranging from an older officer in the Syrian army, to a university student coming to terms with her sexuality in a traditional context, to a British Orientalist on sabbatical, to a disillusioned activist who must reconcile his ideals with the realities of war and city life. Though the particularities of the explored lives may be quintessentially Syrian, the struggle between the generations, between men and women, between country and city, and between victor and vanquished are international in scope.
though at times it really showed to me that this book was translated, in a way that demonstrated how beautiful it might have been in the original arabic, i did quite enjoy the translators note at the end!
the different perspectives in each chapter were nice. i just kinda wish this book was longer? i feel like i gained some good knowledge on syria in the 80s.
the whole title of this book coming from the Torah is also just a rlly interesting fact that is thrown in at the end and not really explained? would have loved some more there
overall quite enjoyed this read. good development of issues of pride ego love orientalism growing up urbanization migration war economy. literally every topic. and it was like a hundred pages. nice.
Eye opening look at life for (mainly) young people in 1980s Damascus. Gives an interesting juxtaposition of modernity and tradition (particularly in the lives of the university educated women) as well showing the permeating sense of stagnation given the lack of jobs and the loss of so many of young women to husbands and/or careers overseas. Alongside this there is the tortuous love story (can it even be called that?) of Yusuf and Dallal that feels illustrative of the novel’s social commentary.
This is one book where I wished I had read the translator’s note first (although there are spoilers included) as it includes a thorough scene setting for the time that the book was written but also an explanation of the style which I would have appreciated knowing before reading. It’s the kind of book that I read a lot of when I was younger and it’s made me think that I really would like to get back to reading more about this period again.
Oh boy, was this translation ROUGH. As a speaker of Arabic, I understood what the translators were trying to get across, but if I had zero cultural context, I would’ve been so confused. The translations were often direct, when I feel that substitutes or perhaps creative licenses could’ve been taken.
As for the story itself, it was good. I always enjoy reading a book from multiple perspectives, particularly when the author is trying to showcase the different situations people found themselves in in 1980s Syria. I sympathized with everyone except for the British professor. Everyone’s motivations and perspectives made sense to me. I found it interesting to hear the internal thoughts of a young Arab man. I could tell Dalal was always doomed by the narrative.
Overall, it was good, but I genuinely feel that whatever message this book was trying to get across would be lost in a [poor] translation to foreigners. A lot of cultural context is needed to understand the different perspectives and even the writing.
Another one of those books where the project gets in the way of the story. Or maybe it just isn't translated well. I could not get engaged in the characters or the story.
Just Like a River by Muhammad Kamil al-Khatib (Syria, 1984) is a contemporary classic of Arabic Literature. And for a reason. Timeless and contemporary; Lebanon is flooded with Palestinian refugees, Israel makes advances in territory it illegally occupies and bullies its neighbors. British Orientalist teach at local universities and judge judge judge what they don’t understand. It could well be 2021, but it’s 1984. A generation of young people try to figure its place in the world, that balance between dream and possibility. We play with the cards we are dealt with but can’t stop ourselves from trying to change the game.
I LOVED this short novella where young men are proud but dream of a simpler world, women are strong and smart, and parents try to love and protect.
A Syrian novella, set in Damascus in the early 1980s, exploring the timeless themes of tragic romance, fear of and attraction to outsiders, and coping with modernity. It is very clear, quick and easy to read though quite sad. All the characters are obvious stereotypes, but the author still manages to express the complexity of relationships - even intellectuals are human! A funny quote: "Understand her, try to comprehend her. Understanding [the books] A Saint's Lamp, A Bird from the East, Season of Migration to the North, or The Voices of Suleiman Fiyad does not make you smart. What would be smart is to understand Dallal [the heroine]."
I also read the novella “Just Like a River” by Muhammad Kamil al-Khatib. First published in Arabic in 1984, the book is still very relevant. This is another difficult love story, a recurring theme in Syrian literature. But the obstacles to their love are Yussuf and Dallal’s own hesitations, their misplaced prides, their fears to commit to a « modern » love in a very traditional society. The book is very subtly written, flowing « just like a river ».
The book touches on several interesting topics tangentially, but it doesn't ultimately have much to say. I liked the story, and I sympathized with all of the characters in it. But I felt like it never really got going before it was all over. Also, a lot of the dialogue was stilted and two-dimensional.
I can see how someone who lived in Damascus during the 1980s might find it fun to read about familiar locales. But the book doesn't hold much interest for those who lack that background. For those interested in modern Arab culture and society, there are several better novels out there.
I admit that I do not have much cultural context from which understand this book. Additionally, reading a translated book, it is difficult to identify whether one is dissatisfied with the author or the translation. I did not feel drawn into the dialogs between the characters. But I did find the relationships between them interesting. If this book is 'quintessentially Syrian', then reading this book showed me how little I know and understand about Syria and her people.
Maybe it's better in Arabic. Whilst the book definitely addresses social issues from the 80's which are still prevalent today, it deals with them in a superficial manner. I also found the book to be written solely for a Syrian audience as many areas of the country and capital are referred to without any background explanation or description to make it come alive to the non- Syrian reader.
This novel is poignant, with characters that draw your empathy, and it has a light touch that conveys the Syrian locale and people with an authenticity that never seeks to be touristy (which makes sense which you consider that the author never considered it being translated for foreigners until the translators approached him). The characters can be frustrating, especially perhaps to my western sensibility, in that they often create their own bad situations through their inability to be honest with one another about their feelings.
The novel does often feel a bit unpolished, even unsophisticated, though - too much of the author telling rather than showing. For example, there might be two pages of obtuse dialogue between characters unwilling to say what they mean or feel to the other, followed by an entire page of an internal monologue describing the character and how he felt in the past and present and why that made him not say things now, and it all just seemed too pat and easy pointed out to the reader. There are also too many instances where lines of dialogue are immediately followed by descriptions of the lines, as if just to make sure that the reader does not miss that the line was being said sarcastically, or ironically, or to cover up a certain feeling beneath the words.
Perhaps those quibbles can be partly attributed to the translation, or the fact that it was the author's first novel. In any event, it was a pleasant, if not thoroughly engrossing or thought-provoking, read.