1

Asma Hassanin

3467880

Creative Writing BA paper

Simon Cook

8-4-2012

7600 words

Introduction

I chose to write my BA paper on the Creative Writing course because I would be able to write a short story in which I could use my own knowledge. I also knew that this course gives me a lot of choice; There are a lot of topics I can write about. For example, the characteristics of a particular literary tradition like the themes, genre, trope and technique of a literary work. I could also focus on a group of writers, or one particular writer if I wished. For me, it was the ideal assignment, as I think that everyone who likes to read novels has his/her own preference when it comes to literature. Some like to focus on a theme, while others are fond of a particular writer. I was interested in British Muslim fiction and British literature written by British-Arab writers. I searched for writers who had an Egyptian background like I have. I came across Ahdaf Soueif and Leila Aboulela who are Egyptian-British writers (Aboulela’s mother is Egyptian). I liked their novels and I was interested in how they used their Egyptian and Islamic background in their novels. I found out that they make use of religious passages and the Arabic language. Their novels also give insight into the lives of Arabs and Muslims. Because of my Egyptian background, I was also able to use my knowledge of Egyptian society and politics in my short story. In addition, I wanted to insert the Arabic language and literature in my short story as Soueif and Aboulela do. I translated a famous Egyptian poem and used Egyptian phrases and expressions.

Ahdaf Soueif and Leila Aboulela’s British Muslim Fiction

British Muslim literature refers broadly to works written by British Muslim writers, denoting fiction characterised by its tendency to integrate Islamic culture with British culture as well. However, Claire Chambers finds it difficult to fully embrace this simple explanation, stating that British Muslim fiction can be viewed from different perspectives. She quotes Nigel William whose character Robert in the novel East of Wimbledon poses various questions about the different ways in which this literature is defined[1]: “In 1993, when William’s novel was written, the very idea of talking about ‘Islamic English literature’ or- my preferred term- literature by writers of Muslim heritage’ appeared ripe for satire, but now all the questions raised by Robert in this opening passage are being seriously interrogated” (Chambers 5). Chambers argues that ascribing an author’s work to British Muslim fiction according to his/her faith would be an oversimplification, as there are, of course, enough authors with a Muslim background who do not practise religion. She therefore lays considerable stress on the distinction between Islam as a religion and Islam as a civilization, pointing out that she considers works of authors who are sharply critical of the Islamic religion also as Muslim fiction (Chamber 9). It should be noted that the authors she is referring to as writers of Muslim fiction all have a Muslim civilizational heritage in common (Chamber 10). As an example of the variety of writers who often contribute to this body of writing, Chambers decides to add lists of British Muslim writers, focussing on how they tend to perceive themselves in terms of religiosity. For instance, Leila Aboulela, Robin Yassin-Kassab, Aamer Hussein, and Zahid Hussein classify themselves as religious, while other writers, for example Ahdaf Soueif, indicate that they are more or less influenced by “Islamicate civilizations” (Chamber 11). Amin Malak comments on the impact of the Islamic religion on this writers, arguing that

Muslim narrative writers [...] project the culture and civilization of Islam from within, and many of the texts epitomize this notion of an insider’s view of Islam. By removing Muslims from the position of the Other, these novelists create various possibilities for Muslims’ depictions. In this century’s climate of Islamophobia, wars of questionable legality, and oppressive counter-terror legislation, many writers are exploring Muslim identity. Whereas non-Muslim authors tend to zero in on the figure of the terrorist, drawing upon a tradition in literature stretching back to Conrad, Muslim writers have often looked at Islam in complex, multifaceted ways. The writers in this volume assert the right to explore their religious background, but equally to disregard, satirize, challenge and praise it (Chamber 13).

In other words, writers of what is called Muslim fictions are merely influenced by Islamic civilization, and do not always have to write on religious subjects.
On the other hand, there might be a problem with the term ‘British Muslim literature’ or ‘British Muslim fiction’ as many writers do not consider their work part of this body of writing; Leila Aboulela says: “I don’t want to be labelled or tagged as a Muslim writer; I want to be seen just as a writer, that’s the right answer today, I suppose and it’s true” (Chambers 103). Another serious problem is the recent and ongoing development of British Muslim fiction, as it is a new form of literature and not yet acknowledged by a high number of critics and the masses. The existence of such literature can therefore be vigorously challenged, as even Claire Chambers who wrote on British Muslim literature poses the question whether the term ‘Muslim fiction’ is acceptable and whether it exists. Nevertheless Wail S. Hassan adopts the position that British Muslim fiction does exist, and states that it is a new form of fiction:

... I want to assess the possibilities and limitations of her contribution to a new trend that has been called "Muslim immigrant literature" a literature that seeks to articulate an alternative episteme derived from Islam but shaped specifically by immigrant perspectives. The novelty of this brand of Anglophone fiction is that it moves away from the reactive position of "writing back... (Hassan 4).

The question whether this literature actually exists remains open, and should therefore be substituted by another interesting question, which is what novels thatmight belong to British Muslim literature have in common, despite the authors’ ideological and religious differences. This might give insight into the characteristic features of this kind of fiction. The Arab-British writers Ahdaf Soueif and Leila Aboulela can be presented as an example of writers whose works are regarded as British Muslim literature, and who differ ideologically. Leila Aboulela’s works are often referred to as “Halal fiction”, suggesting literature that can be viewed as a religious statement (Chambers 101). Sadia Abbas comments on her novel The Translator, describing it as no more than a religious novel in which the lifes of British Muslims are reflected: “Can there be a religious novel? seems easy enough. All one need do is write a novel with religious protagonists, which observes their pieties with sympathy. Such contemporary novels are rare, outside Christian genre fiction, and it is striking that the Sudanese British, avowedly didactic, Muslim writer Leila Aboulela has written not one but two such novels” (Abbas 15). Aboulela herself states that she is interested in writing about the experiences and perceptions of religious British Muslims, not about Islam as a religion (Hassan 34). Ahdaf Soueif, on the other hand, develops different characters in her novel, in which her protagonists do not have to be Muslim, and may be an adherent of any other religion, or none. In the Map of Love, Egypt is seen through the eyes of a young English widow Lady Anna Winterbourne who has moved there to discover the former British colony. However, many events are also seen through the eyes of Egyptians ,for example, Sharif Pasha al-Baroudi’s sister. In addition, Leila Aboulela’s novels are not, strictly speaking, overtly religious, or even entirely populated by religious characters, although there are many direct references to religion and spirituality. Leila Aboulela’s religious views are reflected in her frequent use of Quranic passages, Hadeeth, supplications, Islamic sayings and spiritual statements that are often translated into English, which separates her from many other writers, including Ahdaf Soueif. These English translations of Islamic texts deepen the religious experiences of the characters, shedding light on the way Muslims view their religion: “There was more reward praying in a group than praying alone. When she prayed with others, she found it easier to concentrate, her heart held steady by those who had faith like her. Now she stood alone under the high ceiling of the ancient college, began to say silently, All praise belongs to Allah, Lord of all the worlds, the Compassionate, the Merciful...” (the Translator 72). Ahdaf Soueif rarely uses religious passages in her novels, and when she does, she uses these passages to cast more light on the way Egyptians speak to each other, for example after a visit to the tombs of their relatives: “ ‘God have mercy on him too, ‘Sharif Basha says, ‘all this was a long time ago.’ ‘God forgets nobody,’ Baroudi Bey says, ‘His mercy is vast. And He forgets nobody.’ ‘Recite “Say He is God the Only One, “ and ease your mind,’ Sharif Basha says” (The Map of Love 474). Both writers use religious terms, but for different purposes; Ahdaf Soueif uses them to give insight into Egyptian culture and society, whereas Leila Aboulela aims to create a religious atmosphere.

In addition, both Soueif and Aboulela’s novels contain many Arabic words, nearly always italicised in Aboulela’s novels. Aboulela prefers to use more Islamic terms, whereas Soueif deploys standard Arabic and dialectal Egyptian to describe the way Egyptians interact with each other (Albakry and Hancock 1): “’I’ll make you some coffee, Khalu[2]’” (In the Eye of the Sun 3). This combination of English and Arabic is called ‘code switching,’ or ‘language switching.’ Braj Kachru makes the point that languages switching is “not only the combination of two languages, but also the creation of societal, cultural, aestatic and literary norms with a distinct context of situation”(Albakry and Hancock 11). Kachru suggests that a narrative gains authenticity, when it contains “‘the use of native similes and metaphors’, ‘the transfer of rhetorical devices for “personalizing” speech interaction’, ‘the translation of proverbs, idioms and other devices’, the use of culturally dependent speech styles’, and ‘the use of syntactic devices’”(Albakry and Hancock 11). Ahdaf Soueif uses many standard Arabic and dialectal Egyptian formulas, metaphors, proverbs and idioms, translating many of them literally into English: “Zeinab Hanim knows that the monkey in his mother’s eyes, is a gazelle, but this is not a mother’s fondness; the whole world would agree that her son is a fine man, a true man who fills his clothes” (the Map of Love 281). The Egyptian proverb ‘a man who fills his clothes’ implies that a fat man represents wealth, and is therefore a suitable husband because he is able to provide for his wife and children. By not translating all words, or sentences into Arabic, Ahdaf Soueif might intend to preserve the connotation; as a result, the Arabic words and phrases maintain their sociocultural implications, which is a significant feature of Ahdaf Soueif’s novel the Map of Love (Albakry and Hancock 18). In contrast to Ahdaf Soueif, Leila Aboulela rarely, or even never, translates Arabic formulas, proverbs, metaphors and idioms into English. Her writing style is poetic, and even at times highly intertextual, referring often to other content such as the Quran and various Sudanese writers (Chambers 99). She also uses Scottish street slang, combining it with Arabic words and phrases such as Alhamdulillah, which literally means ‘all praise belongs to God’ (Chambers 99).

However, Leila Aboulela and Ahdaf Soueif’s novels drip with vivid images of their country of origin, allowing the reader to experience Egypt and Sudan from the perspective of the authors. Ahdaf Soueif tends to focus on colours, sounds and smells which she associates with Egypt; for example, the smell of Jasmine might conjure up memories of Egypt in Ahdaf Soueif’s mind, as she often refers to this flower when describing Egyptian bedrooms. She also translates patriotic and romantic Egyptian song texts into English, perhaps attempting to draw the reader into a setting that serves as a mirror for the emotions which she experiences when thinking of her country. Leila Aboulela, on the other hand, uses weather as a contributor to set the mood of a character who dreams of leaving Scotland for Sudan (Hassan 8). While Leila Aboulela refers mostly to Arab writers, Ahdaf Soueif’s texts allude to a variety of Western writers, for example, Eliot, Lorca, Tolstoy and Alcott. The same texts are also under the influence of Arab writers such as Tayib Salih and Naguib Mafouz (Chambers 249). Ahdaf Soueif indicates that these intertextual allusions are part of her world and reality, which makes some of her novels more than a personal collection in which her time between Egypt and Britain, and perception of both countries are insightfully viewed.

Ahdaf Soueif admits that she often feels compelled to defend Islam, particularly in these days in which many have noted Western media’s often negative representation of Islam and Muslims: “Sometimes it seems as if every Arab and every Muslim is living with an eye on their image in the West, and that is hampering (Chambers 249-250). In addition, Edward Said commented on the negative depiction of Arabs and Muslims in the West, particularly in films and television: “In the films and television the Arab is associated with either lechery or bloodthirsty dishonesty... essentially sadistic, treacherous, low. Slave trader, camel driver, moneychanger, colourful scoundrel... the Arab is always shown in large numbers. No individuality, no personal characteristics or experiences....” (Webb 24). Said emphasizes that these images are used to create fear in the minds of people: “Lurking behind all of these images is the menace of Jihad. Consequence: a fear that the Muslims (or Arabs) will take over the world” (Webb 24). Instead of ignoring these negative discourses about Muslims and Arabs, Ahdaf Soueif and Leila Aboulela both mention incidents of discrimination against Muslims in their novels, exposing the prejudice of certain individuals, and revealing the disastrous consequences of negative discourses about Arabs and Muslims. For instance, bearded Arab men are often seen and described as terrorists by Western characters in their novels while they are, in fact, individuals with pleasant characteristics. Furthermore, many passages in their novels illustrate both writers’ anti-colonial stance. Leila Aboulela, for example links Islam to African anti-colonialism (Abbas 24). What both writers also have in common is their consistent attempt to provide a realistic illustration of the interaction between Arabs and British non-Muslims. These attempts have attracted a great deal of attention; The Sudanese ambassador in London called Leila Aboulela’s novel The Translator “a dialogue of civilizations” (Abbas 37). This is because the novel contrasts many anticolonial novels which tend to view the interaction between Muslims and non-Muslims as a clash of civilizations. In contrast to Aboulela’s novels, Ahdaf Soueif novels refer to Islamism, terrorism and Islamist movements such as the Muslim Brotherhood and al Jamaat al Islamiya[3], explaining the reason behind the recent rise of Islamic movements in Egypt. For example, the character Amal in The Map of Love understands the young men that have become member of Islamic movements out of desperation; she regards the injustice and corruption of the Egyptian government as factors behind the problem of young people who become terrorists and fight the Egyptian regime (Chambers 254): “She cannot do anything about the sale of the national industries, about the deals and the corruption and the hopelessness and brutality that drive young men to grow their beards and try to shoot and bomb their way into a long-gone past” (The Map of Love 298). In Soueif’s novels, bearded men are often associated with political Islam and Islamic movements, whereas Aboulela’s novels tend to describe bearded Muslims as pious individuals with pleasant characteristics. In other words, Aboulela views the beard as a religious symbol. However, it can be said that Soueif does not negatively stereotype bearded Muslim men, as she clearly writes about the biased stance of Americans towards bearded Muslim students: “It was there, after he had stopped to speak to a bearded young Arab student, that she has asked, ‘Are you involved with the fundamentalists?’ ‘What fundamentalists?’ he asked. ‘I don’t know. Hamas, or Hizbollah. Or in Egypt.’” (The Map of Love 178). Ahdaf Soueif also treats the problem of the Copts in Egypt. She views the problems between Copts and Muslims largely from an Egyptian perspective rather than a Western one, indirectly accusing the American congress of applying the divide and rule policy in Egypt: “’Well, they’re trying to pass some bill through congress about their duty to protect the Christian minority in Egypt, and of course that’s the game the British played a hundred years ago and people know that. It just stirs up bad feeling’” (The Map of Love 186). Soueif’s novels are to some extent political novels, as many of Egypt’s political problems are mentioned and explained in these novels.