some lebanon readings (and watchings and listenings)
Thariel wrote to me the other day that even Lara Deeb's Hizbullah primer at MERIP was perhaps too detailed for the sort of public awareness-raising we need to be doing now; and he's probably right. But short-and-nuanced pieces are hard to come by (I've been linking to what I can) so here are some long-and-nuanced ones--a very personal and partial list of recommendations for books, cinema, and music from/about Lebanon. I am by no means an expert, but these are the highlights of my scattershot encounters:
I've mentioned Robert Fisk's Pity the Nation: Lebanon at War a number of times, and continue to recommend it as a first-shot introduction to the recent history of Lebanon and the Civil War (mine is a British copy; the American edition appears to be subtitled 'the Abduction of Lebanon'). Fisk's perspective is broad--the book starts in the home of an Auschwitz survivor in Poland, and arcs thoughtfully through the stories of Israel/Palestine and Syria, on the sensible grounds that you can't understand what happened to Lebanon without grasping its place in this broader context. Fisk's writing style is vivid and entertaining (if occasionally a bit boastful and brimful), but the book's real force comes from the fact that he was there--there at Hama watching the smoke rise above the Orontes when Rifaat Asad's brigades flattened half of its old city; there among the dead in Sabra and Chatila before the last Phalangist killers had left the camp; and above all there in Beirut, for the duration--one of only two Western reporters to remain in the city throughout the war, after the evacuation or kidnapping of so many of their colleages. Look for the updated edition of the book; as it contains a moving account of his reunion with Terry Anderson (the latter's release did not occur until years after the book's initial publication) and a searing description of what I suppose we now must call the first Qana massacre.
Moving on to the origins of sectarianism in Lebanon, one of the best books I've ever read on the theme of my own prior academic work (how shifting political conditions brought about communal conflict in a deeply diverse society) is Ussama Makdisi's The Culture of Sectarianism: Community, History, and Violence in Nineteenth-Century Ottoman Lebanon. Be warned, this is very much an academic book--but it is a brilliant piece of work and should be of interest not only to those who wonder about the roots of Lebanese sectarianism, but those who are concerned with such questions of the fault lines of community and identity anywhere, especially in the postcolonial world. And you're in luck, because you can read the whole thing for free online, courtesy of the eScholarship Editions project (why aren't more academic presses doing just this?)
On more pop-cultural terrain, I recommend the slim and lovely little volume Transit Beirut (eds. Malu Halassa and Roseanne Saad Khalaf, published by Saqi Books, whom verbal privilege loves very, very much), which I picked up on a whim in the used books section of Blackwells a couple of years ago and have greatly enjoyed since. It's a freewheeling, irreverant collection of essays, short fiction, poetry, memoir, interviews, animation/drawings, and photography, focused on Beirut and its recent and current complexities--everything from a meditiation on the city's iconic fast food joint Barbar to a series of photographs of kitchens and backyards that could come from any of hundreds of cities. Also: tarab, the Place des Martyrs, and why Lebanon has one of the world's highest rates of plastic surgery.
Fictionally-speaking, I am partial to the works of Rabih Alameddine, whose novel Koolaids: the Art of War draws together the Lebanese Civil War and the AIDS epidemic in San Francisco through the tale of Samir, a gay man from Beirut. (Alameddine's second novel I, the Divine also moves back and forth between Lebanon and the US and tackles themes like sexuality, feminism, postcolonial identity, etc.)
Ziad Doueiri's brilliant West Beirut is one of my favorite movies, full stop (I've been meaning to write a review of his latest film, Lila Says/Lila Dit Ça--which is also very good). It's the story of three teenage kids--Tarek, Omar, and May--negotiating puberty, politics, and the gradual disintegration of their orderly world as the city around them is torn apart by the war. As this Salon review points out, the film combines the kids' perspective with a heartfelt window into the sentiments of Tarek's parents, progressive, secular middle-class intellectuals struggling to face the end of the life they took for granted. So very good.
Finally, music: of course there must be Fairuz (whose song "Li Beirut" has been quoted endlessly this month)--but let's also have some of the so-called Lebanese pop tarts (Nancy Ajram remains my favorite) and add the Beirut-based electro-acoustic duo Soap Kills to the mix.
These are the first few things that come to mind, the books and discs I'd press into your hands if you asked me--feel free to disagree, or recommend others.
I've mentioned Robert Fisk's Pity the Nation: Lebanon at War a number of times, and continue to recommend it as a first-shot introduction to the recent history of Lebanon and the Civil War (mine is a British copy; the American edition appears to be subtitled 'the Abduction of Lebanon'). Fisk's perspective is broad--the book starts in the home of an Auschwitz survivor in Poland, and arcs thoughtfully through the stories of Israel/Palestine and Syria, on the sensible grounds that you can't understand what happened to Lebanon without grasping its place in this broader context. Fisk's writing style is vivid and entertaining (if occasionally a bit boastful and brimful), but the book's real force comes from the fact that he was there--there at Hama watching the smoke rise above the Orontes when Rifaat Asad's brigades flattened half of its old city; there among the dead in Sabra and Chatila before the last Phalangist killers had left the camp; and above all there in Beirut, for the duration--one of only two Western reporters to remain in the city throughout the war, after the evacuation or kidnapping of so many of their colleages. Look for the updated edition of the book; as it contains a moving account of his reunion with Terry Anderson (the latter's release did not occur until years after the book's initial publication) and a searing description of what I suppose we now must call the first Qana massacre.
Moving on to the origins of sectarianism in Lebanon, one of the best books I've ever read on the theme of my own prior academic work (how shifting political conditions brought about communal conflict in a deeply diverse society) is Ussama Makdisi's The Culture of Sectarianism: Community, History, and Violence in Nineteenth-Century Ottoman Lebanon. Be warned, this is very much an academic book--but it is a brilliant piece of work and should be of interest not only to those who wonder about the roots of Lebanese sectarianism, but those who are concerned with such questions of the fault lines of community and identity anywhere, especially in the postcolonial world. And you're in luck, because you can read the whole thing for free online, courtesy of the eScholarship Editions project (why aren't more academic presses doing just this?)
On more pop-cultural terrain, I recommend the slim and lovely little volume Transit Beirut (eds. Malu Halassa and Roseanne Saad Khalaf, published by Saqi Books, whom verbal privilege loves very, very much), which I picked up on a whim in the used books section of Blackwells a couple of years ago and have greatly enjoyed since. It's a freewheeling, irreverant collection of essays, short fiction, poetry, memoir, interviews, animation/drawings, and photography, focused on Beirut and its recent and current complexities--everything from a meditiation on the city's iconic fast food joint Barbar to a series of photographs of kitchens and backyards that could come from any of hundreds of cities. Also: tarab, the Place des Martyrs, and why Lebanon has one of the world's highest rates of plastic surgery.
Fictionally-speaking, I am partial to the works of Rabih Alameddine, whose novel Koolaids: the Art of War draws together the Lebanese Civil War and the AIDS epidemic in San Francisco through the tale of Samir, a gay man from Beirut. (Alameddine's second novel I, the Divine also moves back and forth between Lebanon and the US and tackles themes like sexuality, feminism, postcolonial identity, etc.)
Ziad Doueiri's brilliant West Beirut is one of my favorite movies, full stop (I've been meaning to write a review of his latest film, Lila Says/Lila Dit Ça--which is also very good). It's the story of three teenage kids--Tarek, Omar, and May--negotiating puberty, politics, and the gradual disintegration of their orderly world as the city around them is torn apart by the war. As this Salon review points out, the film combines the kids' perspective with a heartfelt window into the sentiments of Tarek's parents, progressive, secular middle-class intellectuals struggling to face the end of the life they took for granted. So very good.
Finally, music: of course there must be Fairuz (whose song "Li Beirut" has been quoted endlessly this month)--but let's also have some of the so-called Lebanese pop tarts (Nancy Ajram remains my favorite) and add the Beirut-based electro-acoustic duo Soap Kills to the mix.
These are the first few things that come to mind, the books and discs I'd press into your hands if you asked me--feel free to disagree, or recommend others.
posted by kitabet at 9:59 PM
3 Comments:
Hmm...happy to find your blog (via your comment on Pamuk at modal minority) - I see we read some of the same things. I appreciate your recommendations and discussion of Lebanon readings, some of which I know and some not. Thanks - will be back.
I'd also recommend Hanan al-Shaykh's Beirut Blues. the writing is fragmented, and very postmodern, but beautiful and searing in its details. the novel is set during the civil war.
Sameen
hello beth: welcome!
S dear, I've been meaning to read that too, thanks for the reminder. I read 'Only in London' and liked it, and have heard good things about her other books too.
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