On ‘The Open Novelistic Corpus: The Art of Narrative Storytelling in Tayeb Salih’s Work’
On ‘The Open Novelistic Corpus:
The Art of Narrative Storytelling in Tayeb Salih’s Work’
By Lemya Shammat
Since the 1990s, Mohamed Khalaph has been a prominent voice in the cultural supplements of Sudanese newspapers, magazines, and periodicals, where his articles have continued to provide readers with insights of lasting relevance. A rigorous and discerning writer and critic, Khalaph’s work is distinguished by intellectual rigor, grounded in his deep engagement with philosophy, modernity, and heritage. His cultural and critical writings extend into contemporary fields such as theater, music, the visual arts, and other creative domains.
He played a pivotal role in seminars and cultural symposia on modernity and its theoretical frameworks, and was instrumental in the founding of the Sudanese Writers’ Union. As a specialist in linguistics and stylistics, he helped shape an intellectual current marked by diverse cultural sensibilities. His scholarly output includes significant studies in literature and culture, with particular distinction in his sustained engagement with the works of Tayeb Salih.
That engagement now finds new expression in his latest book: The Open Novelistic Corpus: The Art of Narrative Storytelling in Tayeb Salih’s Work, by the Publishing Department of the Africa Institute, Sharjah (2025).
This book offers a fresh, richly layered reading of Tayeb Salih’s narrative art—opening new perspectives on his literary achievement and reaffirming his place as one of the most enduring voices in modern Arabic literature.
As suggested by its title, the central theme and argument of Khalaph’s book is to reconceptualize readings of Tayeb Salih’s novels as an integrated whole. The book undertakes a critical exploration of diverse themes, shedding light on the nuanced artistry of Tayeb Salih’s narratives. Among his insights, Khalaph emphasizes Wedding of Zein, elevating it above other works for its profound engagement with tolerance as a central theme.
The Doum Tree of Wad Hamid serves as the introduction to the open narrative text pioneered by Tayeb Salih. Dr. Abdul Rahman Khanji was among the first to underscore the story’s pivotal role in the trajectory of the so-called “Grand Novel.” This insight was later affirmed by the Soviet critic Giorgi Burjanadze, who highlighted the significance of The Doum Tree in shaping the thematic and structural cohesion of Tayeb Salih’s trilogy.
Another critical point explored in Khalaph’s book concerns what he identifies as the fundamental, and often suppressed, question in Tayeb Salih’s stories: “And when will you build the water pump, the agricultural project, and the steamship station?” This question, grounded in the material realities of everyday life, is uncomfortable for the dominant critical discourse, which tends to favor a more abstract, elevated reading of the text. Such criticism prefers the narrative to remain self-contained and fragmented, operating within dichotomies—East/West, masculinity/femininity—that appear stable and detached from their material base. Khalaph, however, emphasizes that it is precisely this pragmatic, earthly dimension that situates the narrative within the arena of change.
The village lies at the bend of the Nile, always inhabited by palm trees and kind people, and marked, since ancient times, by its statues and royal cemeteries. I think no one would dispute that Tayeb Salih devoted his literary works to depicting aspects of the social life of the people of that region, without neglecting the natural background or the dynamic space in which these fictional characters move. Indeed, Tayeb Salih employed similes, metaphors, and other rhetorical devices to highlight the intimate connection between the human and the environment.
Khalaph explores the unspoken dimensions of Tayeb Salih’s narratives, showing how the Nile valley village shapes both the social and natural fabric of his fiction. Salih’s works are richly infused with references to the tangible environment and human behavior, and it is precisely from these cultural and environmental realities that he crafts his metaphors, endowing them with vivid resonance and authenticity. Yet historical symbols remain conspicuously absent, despite the setting offering abundant potential for them. Khalaph probes this deliberate, or maybe unconscious omission, revealing the subtle strategies.
He uncovers the subtle potency of what he terms the “time bombs of silence,” unveiling the hidden authority of metaphor and the quiet, shaping forces of narrative thought. In this liminal terrain, meaning hovers—unspoken yet charged.
The Open Novelistic Corpus investigates the intricate dynamics of slavery and servitude, depicting characters marked by hardship and the quiet violence of words. In Maryud, master-slave relationships unfold across a spectrum—from subtle, hidden tensions simmering within village life to the overt ethnic and social fractures embodied in Bandarshah. Some are relegated to the village’s margins, others confined beyond boundaries drawn in the name of racial purity—a fraught hierarchy that resonates with the social tensions traced in Wedding of Zein as well.
Though linguistically distinct, the two texts converge in their artistic dialogue—not through imitation, but via profound intertextual resonance. Khalaph juxtaposes The Double Death of Quincas and The Wedding of Zein, showing how marriage and death—central to both individual life and social fabric—become sites of narrative subversion, destabilizing conventional meanings and socially prescribed values while illuminating the intricate tensions that shape life, society, and human experience.
Khalaph offers a reading of Tayeb Salih that is both timely and enduring, inviting a reconceptualization of his novels as an integrated whole. He encourages readers to see each work not merely as a self-contained narrative, but as part of a larger, interconnected framework—a global narrative unfolding within the open novelistic text.
Beyond the analysis itself, the book reflects Khalaph’s philosophy of dialogue, collaboration, and camaraderie rooted in his humane approach and his constant celebration of others. He made space for fellow writers, critics, researchers, and translators to enrich the scope of this book, including Abdul Latif Ali Al-Faki, Mohammed Abdul Rahman Hassan, Ahmed Al-Sadig, and myself. The project was overseen and designed by Al-Amin Osman, and realized through the dedicated efforts of Adel Al-Qassas and Babiker Al-Wasila.
The endeavor has culminated in a work that is not only insightful and incisive but also a testament to collaboration, generosity, and the layered elegance of Khalaph’s critical prose.
Lemya Shammat is a writer, translator, educator, and editor who resides in the UAE. Find more by her in our archives.

