Ragaa Elish vs Society’s Demons
Here, in an essay that originally appeared in Ultrasawt, Moaaz Muhammad explores the literature of legendary Egyptian writer Ragaa Elish, who declared in his short-story collection: Don’t Be Born Ugly.
Here, in an essay that originally appeared in Ultrasawt, Moaaz Muhammad explores the literature of legendary Egyptian writer Ragaa Elish, who declared in his short-story collection: Don’t Be Born Ugly.
In this essay by Husam Maarouf, he writes: “Isn’t it strange for someone to laugh in Gaza? Here, laughter is not because destruction is amusing or enjoyable—it is a moment of nakedness before the self, a full exposure. One has no choice but to laugh.”
Batool Abu Akleen writes: “Heartsick, I am sharing with you my translations of some of her prose and poetry, as it was her wish to have a RESONANT death.”
Sondos Sabra is one of four Gaza-based Palestinian authors who have contributed to the forthcoming collection Voices of Resistance, expected this June. Here, she writes, “The air has grown heavier, as though an invisible hand holds its wings, preventing it from soaring.”
In this essay, Julia Choucair Vizoso reflects on erasure, blindness, and abolitionist love while searching for the “one-line poems that shake us out of sleep paralysis.”
However, for me, the most precious of all the manuscripts in my library were the six stories I wrote in Israeli jail. These were the first stories I ever wrote, penned during a few months of incarceration following my participation in the First Intifada in 1992. I wasn’t quite 19 when I wrote those stories. I “published” them by hanging them on the wall of the prison.
“Dear Mahmoud, I write to you from Gaza, not as it was, nor even as it is, but as something in between—a city trapped in the silence of its own destruction.” – Alaa Alqaisi
Asmaa Azaizeh’s memoir is an exploration of the universal nature of caretaking, love, and loss. But it is also intensely specific, bringing us into the world of death and its meanings in the farmlands surrounding a Galilee village.
Dunya al-Amal Ismail writes of nights in a tent on the beach in Gaza, when, “I lay down a front line of socks, mine and the kids’, filled with sea-sand, to defend my world contained within the tent.”