RANDA JARRAR

The Walrus‘s summer special fiction issue is now out, with stories by Margaret Atwood, David Bezmozgis, Leonard Cohen, Douglas Coupland, Sheila Heti, Juli Zeh, and others. (Leipzig-based Zeh’s story is the only one online, though.)

By some miracle, my trip to the folks went superbly. Are they on meds? They won’t say. But damn, they were nice.

I took the train into the city a couple of times; once to check out the ICP, which had these awesome exhibitions, and to prospect park to attend Park Lit, which was surreal, and once to meet some peeps in Bryant park, where I proceeded to get sloshed on vodka drinks. I also visited the public library, which was my favorite haunt during the summer of my 13th year, and which currently has this exhibit. My favorite three prints: Fashionable Mamma, The Modern Venus (in front of which an older gentleman stood for almost 10 minutes), and Lady Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby, genteel Irishwomen dykes.

Posts will resume tomorrow. Until then.

I’m leaving town for a week, so posts will be light to non-existent until Monday the 18th. Meantime, check out the blogs on the right…

I am in a state of despair and paralysis after hearing about the London bombings. My love and deep sympathy go to the victims and their families, and my ire, hatred, and outrage to those cold-blooded murderers who planned and executed this.

Today is the birthday of my brother and father; the two men I love most in the entire world. I hope people like them – real Muslims who believe in respect, honor, life, and love- do not suffer from the prejudice and hatred of others after an event like this.

Days like today break my heart.

This article claims that readers are interested in fiction and lit from the Middle East… except all the books it mentions (Asne Seierstad’s “The Bookseller of Kabul,” Khaled Hosseini’s “The Kite Runner,” Azar Nafisi’s “Reading Lolita in Tehran,” Azadeh Moaveni’s “Lipstick Jihad”) are from Iran and Afghanistan, two countries, which I would hardly call the entire Middle East. The use of ME as a catchphrase for all is really annoying, as well as inaccurate.

The article also claims Americans are interested in the books because they examine countries we are at war with. Yet there are no books on the list from Iraq.

{link via Moorishgirl]

From Al-Bawaba: “In Saudi Arabia, the first Saudi female to receive a commercial pilot’s license has stirred some heated controversy… Hindi’s job would require her to travel without a male guardian and would therefore lead to her mixing with men.”

NO! Not mixing with men! Blasphemy!

Once again, fundies’ fantasies (in this case, of mile-high clubs) get in the way with their ability to use their brains.

..is reviewed in The Daily Star. Saadi Yousef is one of Iraq’s best poets, and Khaled Mattawa is one of our best, so as you imagine, the translation is amazing. So, I’m glad to see it get some press in the Middle East.

WWB has a few of the poems, and you can read them here.

Notice the place-names and dates he places after each poem. Yousef has had a life of constant motion and exile, so the poems are the closest thing he’s had to a homeland; the dates and place-names a reminder of where he lived at the time of their writing.

Qantara reports from Iraqi theater week in Mulheim:

“We are working on a project,” explains Ikbal Naeem, “and it provides us with the energy we need to run. Like an electricity pylon, like a light that drives us on. To some extent, it helps us to lead a normal life, to see beauty amidst all of the ugliness, and to maintain an inner sense of balance. It keeps us from being ruled by chaotic and cynical thoughts. And this is what we have to show the public. The worst case would be if we let ourselves get used to the death around us and forget what it is to really live.”

I’m listening to Haze, this adorable techno DJ who was classically trained as a Jazz musician, and re-reading Arabesques, a badass novel. The novel is teeming with its own inventive and beautiful prose, and is peppered with gems of epigraphs, such as this gorgeous Walter Abish quote:

…[W]riters are not terribly reliable as witnesses for either the defense or the prosecution. They are also not to be relied upon as lovers. They lack patience. They seem to have certain difficulty taking pleasure from what they are doing. Like chess players, they are inwardly preparing themsleves for the inevitable end game.
–From How German Is It, which is also badass.