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My Port of Beirut
“Magical...Lamia Ziadé tells the story of the explosion as she experienced from afar but in the heart. A book of love, mourning and anger”-- Elle On the evening of August 4, 2020, an explosion tore through Beirut, leaving nearly 200 people dead, 6,000 injured, and 300,000 homeless. The blast was caused by storing thousands of tons of ammonium nitrate alongside a stash of fireworks—a deadly arrangement about which the government had known but done nothing. For six months straight, French Lebanese author and artist Lamia Ziadé wrote, illustrated, and recorded every new piece of information, every photograph of the wreckage or the wounded. In My Port of Beirut , Ziadé weaves together the play-by-play of the tragedy and the history of Lebanon with her own personal stories and her participation in the 2019 protests against state corruption, laying out the historical and political background that made such a catastrophe possible and, perhaps, inevitable. Lamia Ziadé is a Lebanese author, illustrator, and visual artist. Born in Beirut in 1968 and raised during the Lebanese Civil War, she moved to Paris at 18 to study graphic arts. She then worked as a designer for Jean-Paul Gaultier, exhibited her art in numerous galleries internationally, and went on to publish several illustrated books, including Ma très grande mélancolie arabe, which won the Prix France-Liban, Ô nuit, ô mes yeux and Bye bye Babylone .
240 pages, Paperback
Published May 20, 2023
9 people are currently reading
214 people want to read
About the author
Lamia Ziadé
12 books34 followersLamia Ziadé is a Lebanese author, illustrator and visual artist.
Born in Beirut in 1968 and raised during the Lebanese Civil War, she moved to Paris at 18 to study graphic arts. She then worked as a designer for Jean-Paul Gaultier, exhibited her art in numerous galleries internationally, and went on to publish several illustrated books, including My Port of Beirut, Ma très grande mélancolie arabe which won the Prix France-Liban, Ô nuit, ô mes yeux and Bye bye Babylone.
Born in Beirut in 1968 and raised during the Lebanese Civil War, she moved to Paris at 18 to study graphic arts. She then worked as a designer for Jean-Paul Gaultier, exhibited her art in numerous galleries internationally, and went on to publish several illustrated books, including My Port of Beirut, Ma très grande mélancolie arabe which won the Prix France-Liban, Ô nuit, ô mes yeux and Bye bye Babylone.
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
June 1, 2023
Een paar jaar geleden reisde ik met een groep door Libanon en we bezochten ook Beirut. Het was een reis waarin we veel wildkampeerden en juist ook enorm veel mensen uit Libanon spraken en leerden kennen. Het is een van de meest gastvrije landen die ik ooit bezocht. We wandelden door de stad, spraken veel mensen, voeren door de haven op een klein motorbootje, en bezochten ook de buitenwijken. Het was zo gek en naar en nog veel meer tegelijk om de stad een paar jaar later te zien op het nieuws, na de ramp met de ontplofte silo's. Alles ineens onherkenbaar verminkt en zoveel doden en gewonden.
Toen ik dit boek zag liggen na een bezoek aan het tropenmuseum in Amsterdam, wist ik meteen dat ik het wilde lezen om meer over de ramp en het land te leren.
Het boek is geschreven en getekend door Lamia Ziadé, zelf afkomstig uit Libanon, maar ten tijde van de ramp woonachting in Parijs. Daar krijgt ze een stroom berichten binnen op haar telefoon van familie en vrienden, die wel op de plek des onheils zijn. Als een soort verwerking en om toch nog íets te kunnen doen, schrijft ze op wat ze voelt en hoort & tekent ze de eindeloze stroom foto's in haar notitieboek (ze geeft heel veel slachtoffers een naam, een verhaal en een gezicht). Het boek beslaat de periode van de vier maanden na de ramp en bevat ook herinneringen, oude foto's, gedachten over Libanon en hoe het zo ver heeft kunnen komen.
Je moet dit boek niet lezen als een literair werk. Het voelt weinig 'ge-edit'. Het is meer een heel persoonlijk verwerkingsdocument vol getekende foto's, verhalen over de kracht van de mensen in Libanon, verdriet, gedachten, woedende betogen en af en toe vleugjes hoop. Ik vond het interessant, leerzaam en heel verdrietig tegelijk. Zeker een aanrader als je meer wilt leren over Libanon en alles wat er (ook nu) in dat land gebeurt.
Toen ik dit boek zag liggen na een bezoek aan het tropenmuseum in Amsterdam, wist ik meteen dat ik het wilde lezen om meer over de ramp en het land te leren.
Het boek is geschreven en getekend door Lamia Ziadé, zelf afkomstig uit Libanon, maar ten tijde van de ramp woonachting in Parijs. Daar krijgt ze een stroom berichten binnen op haar telefoon van familie en vrienden, die wel op de plek des onheils zijn. Als een soort verwerking en om toch nog íets te kunnen doen, schrijft ze op wat ze voelt en hoort & tekent ze de eindeloze stroom foto's in haar notitieboek (ze geeft heel veel slachtoffers een naam, een verhaal en een gezicht). Het boek beslaat de periode van de vier maanden na de ramp en bevat ook herinneringen, oude foto's, gedachten over Libanon en hoe het zo ver heeft kunnen komen.
Je moet dit boek niet lezen als een literair werk. Het voelt weinig 'ge-edit'. Het is meer een heel persoonlijk verwerkingsdocument vol getekende foto's, verhalen over de kracht van de mensen in Libanon, verdriet, gedachten, woedende betogen en af en toe vleugjes hoop. Ik vond het interessant, leerzaam en heel verdrietig tegelijk. Zeker een aanrader als je meer wilt leren over Libanon en alles wat er (ook nu) in dat land gebeurt.
Currently reading
January 18, 2026My heart breaks for Lebanon 🇱🇧💔😢
May 17, 2025
I always find books like these difficult to rate and review. I haven’t blind bought a book in a while, but the illustrations and subject caught my eye. A very personal and emotional book, I’m glad I bought and read it
June 2, 2025
It’s hard to review a book like this, not least because of my own bias. My Port of Beirut is a memoir intertwined with the Beirut port’s history and the author’s tribute to the victims of the corrupt government’s inaction. It explores the author’s personal and familial connection to the port and her feelings and lamentations following the August 4th explosion.
As a fellow member of the diaspora, the guilt, sadness, anger, hopelessness and despondence that engulfed every Lebanese person unable to be there in the immediate aftermath of the explosion resonated with me immensely.
The closing chapters about the hope that filled the nation during the October 2019 revolution was a painful reminder of what could have been, what should have been, had the Covid-19 pandemic not shuttered everyone away. The optimism the thawra brought with it contrasted greatly against the dejection that has settled over the country since August 4th 2020.
Yet, in spite of all that, Ziadé reminds us that it’s the Lebanese’s little, every day actions, like the people’s efforts to clean up the streets and take care of its vulnerable in the months after the explosion, that still offer us hope for change.
My only bugbear throughout is the lack of explicit acknowledgment of the author’s privilege. It’s made clear throughout the book when Ziadé is writing about the her family’s history with the port, the impact of the explosion on her family’s homes, and her father’s role in politics, but the lack of explicit acknowledgement struck me a little as tone deaf. Though the port explosion didn’t discriminate in the destruction it caused, there is no denying that those who still bear the worst scars are those who don’t have the resources to heal them.
As a fellow member of the diaspora, the guilt, sadness, anger, hopelessness and despondence that engulfed every Lebanese person unable to be there in the immediate aftermath of the explosion resonated with me immensely.
The closing chapters about the hope that filled the nation during the October 2019 revolution was a painful reminder of what could have been, what should have been, had the Covid-19 pandemic not shuttered everyone away. The optimism the thawra brought with it contrasted greatly against the dejection that has settled over the country since August 4th 2020.
Yet, in spite of all that, Ziadé reminds us that it’s the Lebanese’s little, every day actions, like the people’s efforts to clean up the streets and take care of its vulnerable in the months after the explosion, that still offer us hope for change.
My only bugbear throughout is the lack of explicit acknowledgment of the author’s privilege. It’s made clear throughout the book when Ziadé is writing about the her family’s history with the port, the impact of the explosion on her family’s homes, and her father’s role in politics, but the lack of explicit acknowledgement struck me a little as tone deaf. Though the port explosion didn’t discriminate in the destruction it caused, there is no denying that those who still bear the worst scars are those who don’t have the resources to heal them.
May 12, 2023
A very emotional book. As a Lebanese living abroad during the Beirut blast tragedy (August 2020), this book brought back many painful memories of the chaos and destruction that occurred.
Ziade provides her personal experiences before, during, and after the explosion. Her vivid descriptions of the streets of Beirut, the people she encountered, and the impact of the blast on her own life and that of her family and friends are powerful and moving.
The book is also filled with her own illustrations of pictures of Beirut at different stages and many victims of this tragedy. The mix of her and her family’s perspective, illustrations, and anecdotes makes this book beautiful and insightful.
Despite the heartbreaking topic (and that I had to take several pauses and tissues), Ziade manages to convey a sense of hope and resilience, illustrating the strength of the Lebanese people and their determination to rebuild in the face of adversity.
Ziade provides her personal experiences before, during, and after the explosion. Her vivid descriptions of the streets of Beirut, the people she encountered, and the impact of the blast on her own life and that of her family and friends are powerful and moving.
The book is also filled with her own illustrations of pictures of Beirut at different stages and many victims of this tragedy. The mix of her and her family’s perspective, illustrations, and anecdotes makes this book beautiful and insightful.
Despite the heartbreaking topic (and that I had to take several pauses and tissues), Ziade manages to convey a sense of hope and resilience, illustrating the strength of the Lebanese people and their determination to rebuild in the face of adversity.
December 4, 2024
Made me cry as I was trying to write an essay about it
December 1, 2025
Quel livre, quel hommage bouleversant..
August 19, 2023
As if a global pandemic was not enough, in the middle of 2020 Lebanon was also dealing with a financial crisis largely the result of a combination of government ineptitude and corruption that was destroying the remains of the national economy, the costs and demands of supporting around 1 million refugees from the Syrian war, and political destabilization resulting from decades of Israeli military and political action and the involvement of both Syria and Iran in supporting their favoured factions. The state was close to total collapse – and then the Port of Beirut blew up – not metaphorically, but literally. Several thousand tons of highly flammable ammonium nitrate had been stored, for seven years, in a warehouse in the port, along with fireworks. A fire in the warehouse caused an explosion that flattened not only large parts of the port, but also the city, killing thousands. This was an explosion so big that people over 70kms away thought it had occurred in their town.
Lamia Ziadé, a Lebanese writer and visual artist based in Paris, learned of the explosion when her usually sedate family WhatsApp group went haywire with messages of both being OK and asking about others. This furious, tragic, eloquent, engaging, and paradoxically gorgeous book is her response to the explosion, her commentary on contemporary Lebanese politics, her tribute her family and those who died – friends, kin, strangers – and those whose actions in the wake of the fully avoidable disaster saved or tried to save so many. It’s also a portrait of the anti-government, anti-corruption struggles that shaped the Lebanese world for the months before that moment at 6:07pm on 4 August 2020 when the city erupted.
She weaves together several sets of narrative. There are those where she reports her immediate response, those that explore the stories of friends caught up in events – those who survived and those who did not, moving and evocative stories of health workers – several hospitals were destroyed or badly damaged in the explosion – and of other emergency workers (the early section dealing with the fire fighters and paramedic first on scene – the paramedic’s body only identified by her engagement ring – was especially powerful), those that discuss Beirut’s and Lebanon’s politics and infrastructure development programmes (brought to life by an uncle’s leading role in some of that work), and those that discuss the anti-corruption street protests that she participated in. Her style is personalised, intimate, conversational in many places, with reportage and an analytical tone in some. Importantly it is engaging and eloquent. I, literally could barely put it down and read it in one sitting stopping only to make tea long the way.
But if that was all it was, this would just be another narrative of Beirut and Lebanon’s continuing tragedy. The book is elevated to something different visually. Ziadé has filled is with paintings of the events, mainly drawn from photographs (so, yes, paintings of photographs) – of the devastation, of the people she is discussing, of the site, of images from her family records, of places that feature in her story. These are watercolours, all with a slightly washed out tone (a few in monochrome – reflecting their photograph-sources) giving a sense of a place and people who have faded. More than photos, this gives a sense of the poignancy of the events, and perhaps hints of intimacy.
This, then, is a beautiful book emerging from and explaining the background to and immediate effects of an avoidable, almost inevitable tragedy where the beauty does not diminish but sharply intensifies that sense of the tragic. It is compelling, it is gorgeous, it is furious, angry, with a hint of hopefulness and a powerful tribute to those who lived through and did not survive an explosion most of us have now probably forgotten…. except if we’re Lebanese.
Lamia Ziadé, a Lebanese writer and visual artist based in Paris, learned of the explosion when her usually sedate family WhatsApp group went haywire with messages of both being OK and asking about others. This furious, tragic, eloquent, engaging, and paradoxically gorgeous book is her response to the explosion, her commentary on contemporary Lebanese politics, her tribute her family and those who died – friends, kin, strangers – and those whose actions in the wake of the fully avoidable disaster saved or tried to save so many. It’s also a portrait of the anti-government, anti-corruption struggles that shaped the Lebanese world for the months before that moment at 6:07pm on 4 August 2020 when the city erupted.
She weaves together several sets of narrative. There are those where she reports her immediate response, those that explore the stories of friends caught up in events – those who survived and those who did not, moving and evocative stories of health workers – several hospitals were destroyed or badly damaged in the explosion – and of other emergency workers (the early section dealing with the fire fighters and paramedic first on scene – the paramedic’s body only identified by her engagement ring – was especially powerful), those that discuss Beirut’s and Lebanon’s politics and infrastructure development programmes (brought to life by an uncle’s leading role in some of that work), and those that discuss the anti-corruption street protests that she participated in. Her style is personalised, intimate, conversational in many places, with reportage and an analytical tone in some. Importantly it is engaging and eloquent. I, literally could barely put it down and read it in one sitting stopping only to make tea long the way.
But if that was all it was, this would just be another narrative of Beirut and Lebanon’s continuing tragedy. The book is elevated to something different visually. Ziadé has filled is with paintings of the events, mainly drawn from photographs (so, yes, paintings of photographs) – of the devastation, of the people she is discussing, of the site, of images from her family records, of places that feature in her story. These are watercolours, all with a slightly washed out tone (a few in monochrome – reflecting their photograph-sources) giving a sense of a place and people who have faded. More than photos, this gives a sense of the poignancy of the events, and perhaps hints of intimacy.
This, then, is a beautiful book emerging from and explaining the background to and immediate effects of an avoidable, almost inevitable tragedy where the beauty does not diminish but sharply intensifies that sense of the tragic. It is compelling, it is gorgeous, it is furious, angry, with a hint of hopefulness and a powerful tribute to those who lived through and did not survive an explosion most of us have now probably forgotten…. except if we’re Lebanese.
May 11, 2024
This book instantly caught my eye in the bookstore. Beautiful illustrations and account of the 2019 explosion Beirut. Super sad and impactful. She does a great job of capturing the melancholy, guilt and anger she feels for her home country- diaspora sentiments that are reminiscent for any middle eastern migrant. Once again class is a visibility marker. Her lack of acknowledgement towards her upper class French upbringing, her bias accounts of PLO, AMAL and non-Lebanese migrants shine through esp in her accounts of the Lebanese war. She does not highlight the high complicity Israel, the US in the prolonging the duration/ suffering OR the plight if Muslims in the south. It makes the account overall superficial, self indulgent and absent of nuances.
November 17, 2023
If you want to know how corruption and incompetence can destroy a city, this book lays it out in devastating terms. The great silos of the port of Beirut were a symbol of the city's development and connection to the wider world. But through graft and mismanagement, it came to store ammonium nitrate that exploded, destroying the city around it and killing and maiming hundreds of people.
Ziade provides autobiographical and historical details of events leading up to the explosion and what occurred in the aftermath. More impactful are her illustrations of the scenes of destruction and the portraits she provides of many of the people killed on that day. The author's pain, frustration and anger are palpable, but more than anything the book felt like a memorial to the city itself and its varied and lively inhabitants.
Ziade provides autobiographical and historical details of events leading up to the explosion and what occurred in the aftermath. More impactful are her illustrations of the scenes of destruction and the portraits she provides of many of the people killed on that day. The author's pain, frustration and anger are palpable, but more than anything the book felt like a memorial to the city itself and its varied and lively inhabitants.
February 5, 2025
Een boek waar ik erg emotioneel van word.
Waar het eerste in de reeks, "Õ nuit, õ mes yeux", nog getuigde van weemoed en een kaleidoscopisch beeld bracht van multicultureel Beirout, is dit vierde boek vooral een striemende aanklacht van zowel de nationale corrupte politiek als de internationale onverschilligheid.
Zeer goed uitgelegd is de rol van Israel in het onderuithalen van de Libanese welvaart door het vernietigen van de integrale burgerluchtvaart (1968) en de nooit bewezen maar vermoedelijke dooddssteek door het faciliteren van de ontploffing van de silo's (2020).
Voorlopig is de cirkel rond.
Waar het eerste in de reeks, "Õ nuit, õ mes yeux", nog getuigde van weemoed en een kaleidoscopisch beeld bracht van multicultureel Beirout, is dit vierde boek vooral een striemende aanklacht van zowel de nationale corrupte politiek als de internationale onverschilligheid.
Zeer goed uitgelegd is de rol van Israel in het onderuithalen van de Libanese welvaart door het vernietigen van de integrale burgerluchtvaart (1968) en de nooit bewezen maar vermoedelijke dooddssteek door het faciliteren van de ontploffing van de silo's (2020).
Voorlopig is de cirkel rond.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 18, 2025
It was difficult to finish this book. Not because it’s badly written but because it evokes a strong emotional response.
I felt Ziadé’s desperation, sadness, but also hope, so intensively that I had to take regular breaks from the book.
The illustrations of the victims of the explosion on August 4th, 2020 are truly heartbreaking. It is more intense to see her drawings than the actual photos. They are drawn with so much compassion and despair that you can’t help it but feel these emotions yourself.
I felt Ziadé’s desperation, sadness, but also hope, so intensively that I had to take regular breaks from the book.
The illustrations of the victims of the explosion on August 4th, 2020 are truly heartbreaking. It is more intense to see her drawings than the actual photos. They are drawn with so much compassion and despair that you can’t help it but feel these emotions yourself.
November 5, 2023
As painful as it was to read this beautifully illustrated book, I wish it had gone on longer - I want to know how this story has evolved (no miracles or happy endings here, I know) and even more about Ziade and her family. There are sadly so many tragedies occurring in our world and this book explored a recent one but added a lot of background for me (and many others I assume.)
June 21, 2023
Very moving personal (rather than journalistic) response to Beirut port explosion with beautiful illustrations.
October 20, 2024
It is a very moving and heartbreaking book, but also educational on how Lebanon as a country works.
December 13, 2024
A fantastic book that is not only about the explosion, but offers a historical perspective of the land and its history. Fascinating and heartbreaking, this book is a must read.
January 30, 2025
Beautiful first-person account of the richness of Maronite culture in the face of a tragedy wrought on by a corrupt Tammany Hall-style regime.
December 12, 2023
Mossad did it?
September 27, 2023
I am inconsolable 🥲
Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews