By Tugrul Mende
My Great Arab Melancholy, written by Lamia Ziadé, was recently published in Emma Ramadan’s English translation by Pluto Press. In this conversation, they talk about the process of working together, what drew them both to this style of narration, and the uniqueness of Ziadé’s oeuvre.
How did you two meet and started working together?
Emma Ramadan: In 2019, I finally went to Lebanon after 27 years of my Lebanese father refusing to travel there with me. I felt as though a long and important journey was beginning for me in discovering my roots and exploring the kinship I immediately felt to the country and to the people I met in Beirut. I went back once again in February 2020, and had hoped to spend significant time there later in the year, but then of course the pandemic took hold there, alongside other economic and governmental crises, and finally the devastating port explosion on August 4. I wanted to keep tending to my budding and long-yearned-for relationship with Lebanon, and I knew no better way to do so than through translating books by Lebanese writers about Lebanon. When I came across Lamia Ziadé’s work, I was totally captivated. I translated a sample of My Port of Beirut, pitched it to publishers, and Pluto Press was coincidentally in the process of trying to acquire her work. From there, Lamia and I were in touch so she could read over my translations and generously offer notes and answer questions.
What drew you to translating Lamia Ziadé’s work?
Emma Ramadan: I was struck by Lamia’s work in particular because books like hers don’t really exist, or at least are quite rare — a mix not only of prose and illustrations, but also of historical and personal narrative, of past and present, of archive and analysis. Lamia weaves these strands together so seamlessly in each of her books that it makes you wonder why these boundaries exist anywhere else. Her work helps to contextualize Lebanon and the Middle East more generally within the past century, through a more intimate lens that allows you to feel her love and hope for the region.
What drew you to work on illustrations combing it with literary texts?
Lamia Ziadé: I am a visual artist and an illustrator. The first graphic novel that I did, Bye Bye Babylon, was meant to be only drawings with small captions beneath each drawing. The work had been in progress when I realized that I felt the need to write more, longer explanations, anecdotes, etc., and I did so. But the text of Bye Bye Babylon remains quite simple. As my publisher liked it too and not only the images, he encouraged me to write a longer text for my next book.
You work on current events and connect them together, what was important for you to work on The Port of Beirut?
Lamia Ziadé: As any Lebanese, I was devastated after the port explosion. I was not capable of working on anything. My publisher obliged me, in a way, to do this book.
What does your translation process look like, how do you start working on new works and how do you approach them?
Emma Ramadan: I always like to do a first draft that I give myself permission to leave messy, and to do quickly, in order to fully immerse myself in the story and not get hung up on revisions. Once I’ve done a complete first draft, I’m able to identify certain phrases, patterns, references that emerge across the narrative in a way I may not have noticed on first read, since translation allows us to get even closer to a text. I’ll also know more clearly what my questions are, what research I might need to do, what context I’ll need from the author. Then I do a second draft, which sounds closer to what the final English version will be, and in which I pinpoint places in the text that are puzzles, and try to find solutions. This is where I’ll ask the author or a native French speaker any lingering questions. Finally, I’ll do a third draft in which, ideally, I’ll read it all aloud as I polish.
You choose to illustrate the photos of those who died in the Port of Beirut blast — and to illustrate many images readers will recognize from social media — somehow brings the reader back to that moment and also allows us to see it anew. And I wonder how did you had the idea of working from these images that were in the public consciousness?
Lamia Ziadé: That’s what I always do, working on images that are in the public consciousness. … I did it for my former books, and did it again for My Port of Beirut. The difference is that for this one, I found the images on instagram, as it was happening in real time..
You said about Bye Bye Babylon, in an interview, that you didn’t want to write a gloomy book — and that revisiting of the Lebanese Civil War has a bright, sometimes ironic pop-art feel. But My Arab Melancholy and Port of Beirut are far more sober. How did your emotional landscape changed your approach to art?
Lamia Ziadé: I grew up! And the tragic events we continued to live in the Middle East modified my mood consistently … My Great Arab Melancholy and My Port of Beirut might be more sober, but you can still find the same spirit as in as in Bye Bye Babylon, the pop art style and collective consciousness images alongside very trivial ones …
How does your relationship look like while working together? Do you have a lot of discussions while working on the translations and how do you influence each other?
Lamia Ziadé: It was simple and fluent … because we were in two different continents! So the communication was mainly by e-mail … I regret that we couldn’t meet, I think we could have had some interesting discussions.
Emma Ramadan: Yes, I agree! Hopefully one day we will have a chance to meet in person in France. But we communicated across continents nevertheless, and I’m grateful that Lamia took the time to e-mail me her notes as I was working on finalizing each translation.
What draws you to drawing on history in your work? Why focus on the 20th century?
Lamia Ziadé: I love working on history! The research I do for my books is my favorite part of it! The most exciting! I love to find incredible stories in the archives, I love revealing them to the public. My focus on the 20th century is natural, it’s the century where I’ve spent most of my life!
Why has O nuit, o mes yeux not yet been translated to English?
Lamia Ziadé: Ask the English publishers! In fact it is a book of around 600 pages in color, it frightens the publishers. It was actually (and by far) the most successful of my books in French.
Emma Ramadan: I would absolutely love to translate this wonderful book about the nightlife and culture of the 20th century Middle East (among many other things). It’s so vibrant and unlike anything else we currently have in English. But, as we all know, there are still far too few translations published in the US each year, and among the most underrepresented groups is Middle Eastern writers. I remain hopeful that we’ll be able to turn the tide in the coming years, with the leadership of organizations like ArabLit, especially as more people in the US realize how intertwined we are with those in the Arab world.