“You cross the bridge suspended over the canal. Colored ships slowly glide across the surface of blue waters below. Now and then, from beyond the hills of fine sand, a date palm emerges, a village, some people. Fish dart across the lake and a swarthy, dusty child poses for the camera, stick in hand.”
They named me without asking my permission.
They bequeathed me their bodies’ curses,
then said,
“This is your heritage.
Live in peace with it and smile!”
Whether dystopian or utopian, fictional or fact-based, we would like you to answer the following question “how do you see your the Maghreb in the next 30 years?”
” I have done my best to show the uniqueness of Ferchichi’s story and her style, exemplified in her rich diction and the dancing words she uses to evoke joy, something like the children who stamp the ground to express their mirth.”
Among the authors on Jraissati’s fall list, only Dima Wannous doesn’t have a book in English translation.
I’m alone as usual
but the city is unusually alone.
I watch over its wilderness out of my window.
Nothing but the night and the curfew.
This year, both of the top prizes were awarded jointly, and three of the four winners were women.
“This damn book is a masterpiece.”
“This is apparently the third time that the Academy has awarded its Grand Prize to a pair of novels.”
“The complexity of recent Tunisian history, and a minute sociological analysis can only be expressed in a novel. Only narration can make sense of the events.”
Last Saturday, the winners of the 19th annual Golden Comar Prize were announced at the Municipal Theatre of Tunis.
“I didn’t plan to depict “positive” heroes, if we can put it that way, because the era of false heroism has gone.”
