Every Alley, a Different Damascus
Every Alley, a Different Damascus
A Review of ‘Book of Damascus,’ edited by Zaher Omareen
Reviewed by Nada Hodali
Upon thinking of a war-ridden country, the first thought is often its political situation. We think of people going through horrendous circumstances, often forgetting that they are also attempting to live a somewhat “normal” life given everything—a normal defined by very different circumstances. The Book of Damascus vividly portrays the many facets of life in Damascus, Syria. From children attempting to steal so they could have a day out with their friends, to people falling in love, to those trying to reach places of worship, Syrians have continued living their lives despite the warfare.
In the introduction, Zaher Omareen, a Syrian researcher and writer, explained that the book was compiled before the regime’s fall, with its writers attempting to paint a portrait of Damascus through the eyes of her dwellers. Omareen describes Damascus by saying: “it is a record of complex love, a testament from writers who have long contemplated their city, a city punished for its magnificence and for its people’s capacity to dream.”
People still had hopes and dreams despite everything. Readers see the many sides of Damascus through the different eyes of her people. From Muslims to Christians to Sufis, from men and women to children, the beauty and hardships of Damascus are laid out beautifully in The Book of Damascus. Through every alley, readers encounter a different side of the city. The anthology is like an accordion, moving through moments of joy, to be engulfed by the darkness of the alleys and thoughts, before emerging once again into the light that others attempt to protect despite everything. It is a worthwhile journey through the lives of people who refuse to give up.
The anthology takes off with the false promises of amnesty in Khaled Khalifa’s ‘I Write to You from Damascus – 26 April 2023,’ where he recounts the amnesty that was promised: the supposed release of 200,000 prisoners, when only a couple of dozen prisoners end up emerging. Family members hold pictures of their imprisoned loved ones, scanning the crowd to find them. The released prisoners scan the crowd, looking at the faces of those holding their pictures, hoping to come across the faces of loved ones. The story highlights the never-ending queues that Syrians have patiently stood in to receive basic necessities, how Syria had fallen into darkness and never truly emerged from it, and how Syrians have been sinking deeper and deeper into darkness, despair, and sorrow—literally ending up with broken bones due to the darkness encapsulating the city.
A curse that persists no matter the effort defines Fares Al-Zahaby’s ‘The Curse of Eid Eve,’ the story of three boys trying to enjoy their Eid day, only to be hit with a curse that keeps returning, no matter how much they try to get rid of it.
Defying religious discrimination across faiths is the subject of Odai Al-Zoubi’s ‘Bitter Hymns,’ where Damascus’s multiple faiths are shown coexisting uneasily, even as its characters resist the discrimination that threatens that coexistence.
Children scavenging amid the city’s ruin ground Salwa Zakzak’s ‘Butterflies in the Sky of Damascus.’ This story reveals the city’s brutality through the eyes of little girls, the scavengers of Damascus, who are forced to dig in dumpsters in the hope of finding items they could sell. This is Damascus as perceived through a child who helps you find your way by highlighting specific rubbish piles placed throughout the city.
Many paths toward one goal are mapped out in Rasha Abbas’s ‘The Seven-Gated Girl-Lady,’ where a man is attempting to reach the Girl-Lady present within the walls of the old city in order to exchange a doll to heal his niece. Connecting Damascus to Greek mythology, Abbas creatively attempts to instill the lesson that many pathways are present in life that one could take, focusing on the fact that the right path might not be the most straightforward one. In this story, the seven gates signify the different paths a person can take towards a goal they are looking to achieve, each with a different outcome.
On a more easygoing note, Omar Al-Jbaai’s ‘In the First Hour of Traffic’ showcases the different stories of Syrians waiting for cars to move, much like any normal person around the world. Despite everything they have gone through, they also get stuck in ruthless traffic, left with their own thoughts, wishing they could simply go home.
That lightness is short-lived: power’s corrupting pull is the subject of ‘The Black List’, where Haseeb Al-Zainy highlights how power leads people to believe that they own everything, only for them to be brought down by those attempting to save the people. The story’s satisfaction lies in watching that self-importance collapse. This reflects Syria’s division into conflicting zones of loyalty, where proximity to power only sharpens the appetite for more of it.
What starts as a venture of helping his brother in Aboud Saeed’s ‘Abu Hajal and the Magic Lamp’ takes an unexpected turn, as Khalil pockets the money meant for legal help and instead wanders Damascus as a tourist, falling for both the city and a woman named Reem, only to be haunted later by the discovery that her father knows his brother.
Every kid who has seen Syrian shows knows about the importance of the hakawati and waits for their arrival so they can dive into the world of storytelling. Rawaa Sonbol’s ‘A Storyteller for Our Times’ beautifully shows how Abu Nour, the latest hakawati, transported people during Ramadan nights by continuing his grandfather’s legacy, only to be detained for not obtaining the right permits. One must protect how one is perceived in order to survive living in Damascus.
Haunted by an inescapable destiny, the people of Hama anchor Omareen’s ‘What Only the Chickens and the Donkeys Know About Abdulwahab,’ where people are stuck living in the past, carrying its burdens wherever they go. It highlights the whirlwind of emotions released prisoners (from the security forces’ prisons) go through upon finding out that their families are deceased, killed, or imprisoned. Moreover, it highlights the fact that no one can run away from their destiny.
Lastly, the Book of Damascus comes to a close with Alaa Rashidi’s ‘Marvellous Music Memory,’ where he explains the toll and effect of the war on individuals, affecting them to the point where they lose remarkable skills.
Beyond these individual stories, the Book of Damascus allows readers to regain access to Damascus after years of closure, showcasing her different aspects, walking through her alleyways, and opening our eyes to seeing what was hidden in that historical city. It is similar to Suad Amiry’s My Damascus (2016, Women Unlimited), in which Amiry writes of her family’s life in Damascus long before the war broke out, turning her book into an elegy, whereas this collection instead welcomes readers back into a city still full of life.
As a translator, I should also acknowledge the beautiful work that Majd Abu Shawish has done in translating all the texts in this book. The translations flow smoothly, bringing every corner of Damascus naturally into English. The translation sounds natural through skillful translation choices that further enhance the texts. The stories are filled with striking metaphors such as “who had locked the gates of fear on the city and on themselves…” (Page 93).
All in all, the Book of Damascus, edited by Zaher Omareen and beautifully translated by Majd Abu Shawish, fulfills its promise of showing readers the many sides of Damascus: the good and the bad, the bitter and the sweet.
Nada Hodali is a Palestinian literary translator working between Arabic and English. She holds degrees from Birzeit University and Durham University, BA English literature and MA Translation Studies. Committed to amplifying Arab voices, her work has appeared in journals such as ArabLit Quarterly, Mousse, and ANMLY, as well as with Interlink Publishing and TBA21. She has translated authors including Sahar Khalifeh and Najem Wali. Her recent projects include 30 Seconds from Gaza by Mohammad Sabaaneh (2025) and Safaa and the Tent by Safaa Odah (2025).