Mornings in Jenin

Any of you who know me personally will know what a hectic month it has been! But in the midst of all that activity, I have found the time to read three great books. C.S. Lewis’ autobiography, Surprised by Joy which I made reference to last week, made great travel reading (on the slowest train to London ever!). The second great book was Pete Greig’s, God on Mute which provided a theology on suffering and unanswered prayer that I could get my head around. But the subject of today’s post is the third book I read, S. Abulhawa’s Mornings in Jenin.

Afternoons in Southend

I did not go purposefully looking for this book. It was a rainy afternoon in Southend (Essex, where I live at the moment) and I was looking for research material for my MA dissertation. When I remembered that I was to have some holiday soon (what a mythical resonance that little word, ‘holiday’, has!) I allowed myself to be drawn towards the library’s ‘new additions’ section. The copy of Mornings in Jenin that I borrowed features a little girl in an Oriental doorway on the front cover and it reminded me of the cover of Hosseini’s, Kite Runner. The reference to an ‘International Bestseller’ also encouraged me to take a look inside.

Image credits to: spiderednews.com <---- and mergingreflections.blogspot.com ---->

David or Yousef

‘Mornings in Jenin’ tells the life story of a girl called Amal who is born into a Palestinian refugee camp in 1955; but the story begins before her birth in 1941 and carries right through to her death. The content engages with several intense political themes; investigating the nature of Israeli/ Palestinian relationships, cases of mistaken identity, terrorism and the impact of dislocation. It is only fair to tell you that there is quite a lot of violence and disaster in this novel; such that the Daily Mail called it; ‘Disquieting, discomforting’. I beg you not to let the political undercurrent prevent you from reading the book; it is about so much more than a well-written polemic; this is a story about what it means to be family, the definition of a ‘good mother’, love and loss and a good dose of friendship.

‘No soldiers here’ (page 179)

Not only does this novel have interesting content but it is so well written. From the start, I was wrapped up in the safe Mediterranean world of 1941; ‘a small village east of Haifa lived quietly on figs and olives, open frontiers and sunshine. It was still dark, only the babies sleeping, when the villagers of Ein Hod prepared to perform the morning salat’ (page 1). The description of landscapes reminded me of Steinbeck’s work particularly Grapes of Wrath;  ‘Along the dusty road, the land rose in sylvan silence, charmed with the scents of citrus blooms and wild camphires’ (8)  The attention to detail is also reminiscent of Steinbeck; ‘There was some oil, but mostly almonds, figs, a variety of citrus, and vegetables. Hasan put the grapes on top so they would not be crushed’ (7). Abulhawa creates evocative scenery through her creative use of poetic language; one image that has stuck in the two weeks since I read the book is that of Amal being read to by her father, ‘My life before the war returns to me now in memories bracketed by Baba’s arms and scented with the tobacco of his olive-wood pipe....I never knew a playground nor swam in the ocean, but my childhood was magical, enchanted by poetry and the dawn’ (page 60). The Palestine at the beginning of the book was a wonderful place to escape to as a reader.

Rupture: ‘I think of those years with nostalgia’ (page. 164)

This poetic, charming world and style of narrative, however, does not last. As the novel continues, the reality of the 1960’s encroaches on the lives of the characters and that is the end of peace for the rest of the novel. The sentences get shorter in recognition of the reality of Amal’s later life. The prose gets grittier, like life in the present has not got the nostalgic rosy hue of childhood (see page 164); if you could stomach the second half of A Thousand Splendid Suns (Hosseini) then you should be ok. I will admit I did not enjoy the second half of the book as much; but that is mainly because Abulhawa denies any more access to that glorious, contented landscape. And maybe it would be wrong to describe atrocity in gentle, poetic terms?

Biographic ‘Amal’

I did not realise that Mornings in Jenin drew from some of the life-experience of the author until I got to the end (I know, not so quick on the uptake). Maybe the biographic link is what makes Abulhawa’s work so authentic; the reality of life experience fuels the passion in her writing. I also did not discover the dictionary of unfamiliar terms until I got to the end. Abulhawa could have replaced those words with English synonyms but the use of terms in their original language contributed to the authenticity of the atmosphere created. One of the other things that really impressed me, once I realised the story was biographically influenced, was the storyline of the novel. Its compassionate portrayal of the Jewish community is surprising when Abulhawa's identity as a Palestinian refugee is recognised.

Novels from beyond the familiar

Writing this blog post has got me thinking about novels written beyond the European context. There seems to be a growing number of novels written by authors from the Middle East who move to English speaking countries and then publish on their homeland. Neither Hosseini nor Abulhawa moved to America as novelists but as science students. The later development into writing is interesting, I wonder what motivated it? Is novel writing acting as a therapeutic reaction to migration and dislocation? And what impact does writing novels through an Anglo-culture have? Both Hosseini and Abulhawa have also created charitable foundations for their countries of origin, as if introducing the world to their native cultures through highly successful prose was not enough.

I’ve also been thinking about why I enjoy books written by such authors. It is not only that I love the writing style, the rich descriptions and poetic language. I think it is also that they provide a window onto the unfamiliar, a world to escape to, where I have never been before and that is quite attractive.

It was a great read!

I really did enjoy this novel, I doubt this review does it justice but it was so good I just might buy it when I return my library copy. Mornings in Jenin is a conversation-starter; as recognised by the publishers who include a discussion section at the back of the book. Have you read this book? What did you think? Have you read anything else lately that was particularly good? And have you considered sharing it with a friend?

Have a great week folks!

Uncivil Rest and Education

Good afternoon! I’m back, and like many school boys ‘towards school with heavy looks’ I have realised; the Summer holidays are over and term has begun (that said, I’m still in my PJ’s and midday was a while ago!). In recognition of these facts, and to neatly complete my discussions on the recent civil unrest, I present: Uncivil Rest and Education.

Uncivil Rest
On 27th August I had the great pleasure of working alongside the Buffalo Tank Crew in bringing a small part of comic South America to Colchester’s Castle Park. The Buffalo Tank are an independent arts collective who produced 16 installations in the park; taking a light hearted look at recycling and the carbon footprint for the Colchester Free festival.

My job was to man the ‘Uncivil Rest area’ which featured crockery smashing (of political figures faces) and a water gun area complete with riot shields, helmets and protestor signs (all whilst wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and a fake moustache!). The area was conceptualised several months ago and way before the riots in London took place; but in the current political climate it produced some interesting results.

The children were straight into the fray; perhaps unaware of the connotations of wearing a riot helmet, or recognising that the world is chaotic. The adults on the other hand were more reluctant to throw sponges at one another. Not only because that would risk infringing rules of decent behaviour in a park; but maybe also because it would involve confronting bigger issues like equality of access to resources. One particularly interesting case was that of the security guards who were patrolling the site. Like any man presented with the opportunity to soak his best mate the men were keen to play with us; but their role, as security guards and  figures of authority they could not join in whilst in uniform. They promised they’d return later and join in, I don’t know if they ever did!

Recycle? Image: Buffalo Tank 

Whilst running the 'Uncivil Rest Area' I happened to notice an unassuming little monument right next to me, within the compound. The monument read, ‘This stone marks the spot where on August 28th 1648, after the surrender of the town, the two royalist captains Sir Charles Lucas and Sir George Lisle, were shot by order of Sir Thomas Fairfax, the Parliamentarian General’. The Buffalo Tank were getting people to think about politics (and soaking one another to the skin) in a politically significant place; surely the location and topic weren't coincidental.

The number of people who had completely missed this little monument reminded me of all the research into how futile memorialising in concrete or stone can be. The memorial itself was a Victorian construction; I wondered what context made that pro-Royalist-recognition suitable for that time and am fascinated that the people of Colchester deem it still suitable for exhibition. Given its location, in the shadow of a large Norman castle, maybe it has simply been forgotten? In 1648 two men were killed by the authority of the time in shame and haste, but later their lives were celebrated; I wonder how the conflicts of today will be reinterpreted at the same distance (200 years); whether the monuments will be to the royalists or parliamentarians?

Uncivil Rest Area. Images: Buffalo Tank 

Education, Education, Education
During the riots there was plenty of rhetoric about the role of education in the creation of a peaceful society. I recently had two German couch surfers to stay who had attended a Waldorf School. For those of you who don’t know what one of those is, (I’ll be honest I didn’t until Wikipedia provided the answers) Waldorf schools are based on the humanist educational approach of Steiner (that famous Austrian philosopher). The schools favour variety and holistic learning to the more traditional basic key skills, they lean towards the encouragement of creativity and uniqueness in each child. My German guests and I had great fun comparing the systems; when Dad perceptively asked if the girls would send their children to a Waldorf the answer was ‘yes, but not our one’. ‘Yes’ because the Waldorf mark has a good reputation for CVs and Uni places, but ‘no’ because they weren’t great fans of their teachers.

 In C.S. Lewis’ autobiography ‘Surprised by Joy’ he describes at least 4 different schooling systems which influenced him as he grew up. They had varying degrees of interest in the right answers, discipline, cultivating his mind, ability to argue, the importance of religion or sports, and whether eating or ‘fagging’ were sins or virtues. These opinions created different school ‘cultures’ or societies in which he was more or less successful depending on his ability to fit the model. It is not the systems, societies and cultures, however, that loom largest on C.S. Lewis’ narrative; it is the teachers themselves, the lilting of their voices, their individual characters and the authors who they introduced to Lewis.

In both cases, for the Waldorf girls and for Lewis, it was not the ‘system’ which made a difference but the individual teachers. Perhaps there is something to be learned from this when educational reform is under consideration; of the importance not of systems but of encouraging teachers to be at their best, creating positive relationships with pupils and cultivating their unique interests. These contexts might in turn produce school cultures which produce happy, rounded young adults. I am not suggesting that education on its own produces happy, peaceful young adults but transformed school environments would be a good start.

If you teach, or are still at school, have a great start to the term! Don’t forget to pack your smiles in your satchels! I’ll be back next week to chat about a book I read recently, it was good :)