Books as Breath: Gaza’s Living Story
Salah and Abdullah’s small bookshop in Nuseirat is a testament to the power of literature. A model of Palestinian endurance.
Nonfiction
Shrinking Language, Bursting Memory
“Under siege, time is stolen piece by piece, and language shrinks to match the narrow space it is allowed. People abandon long sentences because every additional word must justify the power it consumes, the battery it drains, the risk it takes in that particular minute.”
Tracing a Line, from Arwa to Enayat
“Every time Arwa and Enayat stepped from the private to the public, they returned disappointed. I should clarify that I am not offering an idealistic theory that assumes the world should reward people for their intentions and desires. However, I imagine that their experiences could have been less cruel in other societies that don’t seal the public sphere up so tightly.”
‘Gaza, the Game the Elephant Swallows Every Time’
Writer Husam Maarouf returns to Deir al-Balah in what feels like the same displacement and return he experienced only months ago.
Inji Efflatoun’s ‘A Meeting at the Prosecutor’s Office’
This book was the subject of a recent episode of the BULAQ podcast; today, with permission, we bring you a section from the memoir soon after Inji Efflatoun meets her beloved husband Hamdi, who she was originally wary of — since he was a public prosecutor — although she is reassured he is actually “a committed Marxist.”
Ziad Rahbani: Son by Choice, Father Despite Himself, Youthful Forever
Nael Eltoukhy remembers his relationship with the life, music, and legacy of Zaid Rahbani.
‘Reaching Heba in My Dreams’
It was October 20, 2023 when poet, novelist, and educator Heba Abu Nada was killed by an Israeli airstrike. She was 32. Here, her sister Somaia strings together time, place, and memory.
‘Even Flowers Die Softly’
This month, Maamoul Press publishes a new zine by young Gazan creators Jehad Abu Dayya and Esraa el-Banna: The Final Scene.
I Want a Room, God. Do You Hear Me?
“Even writing, even a warm home—I am afraid of losing them at any moment, of becoming homeless again, of searching for a language that resembles me.”