An Excerpt from Ahmed Douma’s ‘Blasphemy’
“ns, one-sided as ever. But, as I tell my soul and its wishes, the window is merely the beginning of error. It is confusing that it looks at you while you cannot see.”
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About mlynxqualey
Posts by Marcia Lynx Qualey:
On Self-Translating ‘A Foreign Novel’
“Self-translation is no easy work. For me, it was an arduous confrontation not only with the act of re-writing but also with my language practices and preferences.”
From Khalid Lyamlahy’s ‘A Foreign Novel’
Also read the author-translator’s note, part of our special section on self-translation. By Khalid Lyamlahy Translated by Khalid Lyamlahy Excerpt 1 – Queuing at the Prefecture On my right, people […]
Self-Translation Never Lands
This is part of a special section on self-translation. By Mona Kareem When I first started writing poems in Arabic at the age of ten, I called them “foreign poems.” […]
Special Section: On Self-translation
In this special section on self-translation, authors and author-translators Mona Kareem, Khalid Lyamlahy, Deena Mohamed, Dunya Mikhail, and Ali Shakir reflect on what it means to transport their own writing from one of their languages to another.
Don’t-miss Launch Event for FOLK Issue of ArabLit Quarterly
On Saturday, January 22, 2022, ArabLit Quarterly’s Winter 2021 guest editor Ali Al-Jamri will host “’Refuse To Be Erased’: Readings and Conversation from ALQ FOLK issue.”
New Fiction in Translation: Two Stories by Yasmeen Hanoosh
Yasmeen Hanoosh’s forthcoming short-story collection أطفال الجنة المنكوبة (Children of an Afflicted Paradise) was one of our “30 Reads: A Month of Iraqi Women Writers.” One short story from that […]
#TranslateThis: Badr Ahmad’s ‘Black Rains’
As Ahmad wrote in his interview with al-Riwayah: “I wanted to write, to scream, to protest, to put my imprint on the forehead of this world. I wanted my sons and daughters to know, a decade or two from now, that their father rejected this war, he rejected all this destruction and exposed the thieves who rode on the wave of the revolution.”
Short Fiction: ‘Orchestra,’ from Hisham Bustani’s ‘The Monotonous Chaos of Existence’
“She was seated at the black piano. The music had evaporated from her head, and only crooked melodies stumbled from her fingers.”