Muslim Woman Writes Erotic Epic About A Muslim Woman Writing An Erotic Epic

This is what happens when writers who have pseudonyms and claim they are North Africans– and have “translators” who also use pseudonyms— pen sentences that go: “In these lines where sperm and poetry mingle, my ambition is to give women back the speech that has been confiscated by their fathers, brothers and husbands. I lift these words, as one lifts a glass, to the health of Arab women.” As just one Arab woman, I have to say, those words were bad for my health. Here is my response:

I sat, my breasts heavy like pomegranates, onto the toilet. Earlier that morning, I had woken up musky with desire, like a cat or a lioness, from a wet dream. I had intended to spend the day reading my copy of The Almond, but instead I practiced the secret habit– my fingers are double jointed and thus I am quite skilled at that, even though I was initially handicapped by my upbringing, which caused me to rely heavily on bidets for this particluar task–remembering the sexy tattoed women from my dream, their persistence and strength. They reminded me of the uniformed girls from my childhood on the Arabian peninsula… or, more likely, of that one acrobatic tattoed stripper from the tittie bar I had visited the night before. I also remembered the masked and unmasked men from the dream; they reminded me of my teenagehood in the seedy clubs of the New York peninsula. Later, after I recovered my senses, I attempted to read the book by “Nedjma.” It was very moving… or atleast my bowels thought so. I ran to the bathroom, where I sat, my breasts heavy like pomegranates, onto the toilet. When I was done, I reached out for the toilet paper, but I was all out. I then realized my copy of the book could come in handy, afterall. After, I retired to my sofa and made a few phone calls to my beloveds.

By Randa Jarrar*

*My real fucking name.

11 thoughts on “Muslim Woman Writes Erotic Epic About A Muslim Woman Writing An Erotic Epic

  1. While I can appreciate the (apparant) stupidity of this novel and its author, I have to say I don’t understand your hostility towards pseudonyms. Yeah, some people need to use them, feel like using them, feel that circumstances dictate them, whatever. And these people may or may not be bad authors who write bad fiction that purports to be more important and trail-blazing than it is. I don’t see how having a pseudonym is indicative of some sort of character or literary flaw. Enlighten me if you know otherwise.

    I only mention this because this is not the first time you’ve made a by-the-way type of swipe at the idea of pseudonyms, and to this date, I don’t understand it–maybe I’m just misinterpreting things.


    (*Also my real name, but it didn’t have to be.)

  2. Thanks Leila! Thanks Soniah! Thanks Daniel! Thanks Anonymous!

    And thanks Saeed! I have no problem with pseudonyms, as long as the author using them makes no grand statements about representing the entire gender of a certain race, to both of whom i belong.

    also, the translator’s use of pseudonym bothers me, in this particluar instance, because as a translator, you should be able to stand behind your work. she didn’t say her clit was hard as a chickpea, her author did. so why must she hide?

    it just makes the whole endeavor seem inauthentic. really,whois this nedjam person? how can i know she’s not some french dude living in dubai?

  3. Hard as a Chickpea? I hope s/he meant uncooked. Cooked chickpeas are mushy, and there’s nothing I hate more than a mushy clit. I love the way you crack me up, Doudi.

  4. what’s wrong with the actual novel though…is it really that terrible.
    but if u want class A arab woman bedan, check out by ahdaf soueif. what a moron.

    on the other hand, i can see how someone would feel she was trailblazing for writing a book like that – and what’s the harm in saying u think ur trailblazing?

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