A Translator’s Canon of Sudanese Literature
For our focus on Sudan, scholar, translator, and writer Adil Babikir highlights a few of Sudan’s most important literary greats.
Sudan
Writers Select: New and Inventive Voices in Sudanese Literature
For this feature, we asked prominent Sudanese writers: If you were to choose 4-7 titles that would represent, to you, the most interesting books (perhaps experimental, challenging, or influential in some way) written by Sudanese writers in the last 10 years, what would they be? And (perhaps more importantly) why?
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New Short Fiction: Ibrahim Ishag’s ‘A Dinner with Mr. MacNeil’
By Ibrahim Ishag Translated by Nassir al-Sayeid al-Nour They prepare for the feast methodically, while still leaving countless possibilities and hiccups to chance. Today, the sons of al-Kabashi, with the […]
New Poetry from Sudan: Mughira Harbya’s ‘Three Songs for the Ghajar’
“Only a ghajari knows the meaning of love.”
19 Short-short Fictions by Fatima as-Sanoussi
Fatima as-Sanoussi is one of the prominent champions of Sudanese flash fiction, having spearheaded the spread and popularity of micro fiction in Sudanese newspapers throughout the 1980s.
Launching ‘In Focus: SUDAN’
We launch this section with a discussion of the exciting new voices with Sudanese authors, an overview of Sudanese women’s writing, and a list of Sudanese literature available in English. Coming later this week, we have short stories by Fatima as-Sanoussi and Ibrahim Ishag, and poetry by Mughira Harbya.
New Fiction from Sudan: Salah H. Ahmed’s ‘The Bearded One’
Those who were around in the final moments before Wad Siraj’s death on that hot Friday noon said he had arrived moments earlier, parked his fancy Mercedes at the main road, and continued on foot into the narrow alley.
Fiction from Sudan: Abdelaziz Baraka Sakin’s ‘A Veteran Warrior’
“Will they shoot again?” the little girl asks her mother.
New Fiction: Eisa Al-Hilo’s ‘Two Old Ones in a Tree’
“In the end, they were like two birds perched in the tree. They stood behind the window and looked at the garden, which grew wider and wider to include the whole scene, where the old ones’ inner monologue ran like rushing water in the spaces of the evening, with senility’s trembling echoes.”