naguib mahfouz (1911-2006)
Early this morning, I came across a news item saying that Naguib Mahfouz, the 1988 recepient of the Nobel Prize in Literature has passed away at the age of 94.
The citation from the Nobel Prize committee states that he "who, through works rich in nuance - now clear-sightedly realistic, now evocatively ambiguous - has formed an Arabian narrative art that applies to all mankind."
I first came across his work when I was back in college and when I happened to read Midaq Alley; back then, I only managed to read 2 chapters of the book.
But those 2 chapters were enough to leave a lasting impression on me - the style of his prose was clever and penetrating yet retains a certain air of ambivalence about them. I felt that there was something both familiar and alien about his description of the daily life in the back alleys of Cairo.
The story tantalizes you with intimate details of the life of its characters which at the same time serves as an effective allegory of life in modern Egypt, therefore deals with immediate issues which all of us could relate to.
To me, he masterfully weaves in the old and the new, the obvious and the obscure, the subtle and the shocking in his works.
Nearly 3 years have passed before I managed to find the book again and finished reading it when I was in London; the appeal which first drew me to his works was still strong and alive.
Personally, I feel that Mahfouz ranks together with Pramoedya Ananda Toer - the famed Indonesian writer - in a sense that both of their works have a broad appeal among readers beyond their own countries because their works function at so many different levels.
These are writers who - having a keen sense of awareness of the desires, fears and wisdom of their own people and its heritage - manage to use it as a vehicle into which they would insert sublime messages and tales that resonates clearly with the global audience.
And unlike authors who fade into the dark recesses of history long after their heyday is over, Mahfouz continues to have a genuine interest in the development and flowering of Egyptian and Arabic literature even to his ailing days.
A mark of a great author, he never forgets his role in interpreting and shedding light on the aspirations and hopes of the people and the society he lives in, cleverly balancing his own passion for writing and his responsibilities as public literary figure.
My only regret so far is that I do not have the opportunity to read and understand both of their works in their original language - Arabic and Bahasa Indonesia - for I believe that their works would yield a deeper and more beautiful meaning when read in their original language.
I think it is a great tragedy that most of us only get to know about a particular author's works only after he or she has passed away.
Imagine how illuminating it would be if we were given the chance to meet and discuss their works with them; how rewarding the experience will be!
Mahfouz once said in an interview that "if the urge to write should ever leave me, I want that day to be my last."
To Mahfouz, I bid thee farewell and I wish upon you Al-Fatihah; may you receive forgiveness and blessing from Allah and accorded a place in eternal Heaven.
Your legacy will live forever, like a 21st century Pyramid.
The citation from the Nobel Prize committee states that he "who, through works rich in nuance - now clear-sightedly realistic, now evocatively ambiguous - has formed an Arabian narrative art that applies to all mankind."
I first came across his work when I was back in college and when I happened to read Midaq Alley; back then, I only managed to read 2 chapters of the book.
But those 2 chapters were enough to leave a lasting impression on me - the style of his prose was clever and penetrating yet retains a certain air of ambivalence about them. I felt that there was something both familiar and alien about his description of the daily life in the back alleys of Cairo.
The story tantalizes you with intimate details of the life of its characters which at the same time serves as an effective allegory of life in modern Egypt, therefore deals with immediate issues which all of us could relate to.
To me, he masterfully weaves in the old and the new, the obvious and the obscure, the subtle and the shocking in his works.
Nearly 3 years have passed before I managed to find the book again and finished reading it when I was in London; the appeal which first drew me to his works was still strong and alive.
Personally, I feel that Mahfouz ranks together with Pramoedya Ananda Toer - the famed Indonesian writer - in a sense that both of their works have a broad appeal among readers beyond their own countries because their works function at so many different levels.
These are writers who - having a keen sense of awareness of the desires, fears and wisdom of their own people and its heritage - manage to use it as a vehicle into which they would insert sublime messages and tales that resonates clearly with the global audience.
And unlike authors who fade into the dark recesses of history long after their heyday is over, Mahfouz continues to have a genuine interest in the development and flowering of Egyptian and Arabic literature even to his ailing days.
A mark of a great author, he never forgets his role in interpreting and shedding light on the aspirations and hopes of the people and the society he lives in, cleverly balancing his own passion for writing and his responsibilities as public literary figure.
My only regret so far is that I do not have the opportunity to read and understand both of their works in their original language - Arabic and Bahasa Indonesia - for I believe that their works would yield a deeper and more beautiful meaning when read in their original language.
I think it is a great tragedy that most of us only get to know about a particular author's works only after he or she has passed away.
Imagine how illuminating it would be if we were given the chance to meet and discuss their works with them; how rewarding the experience will be!
Mahfouz once said in an interview that "if the urge to write should ever leave me, I want that day to be my last."
To Mahfouz, I bid thee farewell and I wish upon you Al-Fatihah; may you receive forgiveness and blessing from Allah and accorded a place in eternal Heaven.
Your legacy will live forever, like a 21st century Pyramid.
posted by wanaimran at
4:10 PM
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