
Despite his disbelief in Tantal—and there’s a lovely teenage moment where he shrugs off his grandmother, although he still wants to believe—his fascination with the creature abides. Probably because of his cultural dislocation he clings to it all the more.
I was dismayed to learn that Naqqash died in 2004. I remember watching him in the lovely documentary Forget Baghdad and thinking: I must read some of his fiction. Must, must, must. But, as Naqqash says in “Tantal”: “The nastiest of all human afflictions—forgetfulness.”
This is the first that I have, unfortunately. I wish I had sooner. I will look for more.
A piece about the talented, unfortunate Naqqash in Ha’aretz.
