Machaho Tellem Chaho

I am over the moon to have found a PDF version of the original Algerian Ilyad by the great Algerian war poet Moufdi Zakaria. As it is the original version, it is in Arabic HERE (thanks to archive.org, a fantastic e-resource for old books, you should check it out).  You can access the book in other formats too HERE . The Algerian Iliad - إلياذة الجزائـر  -  l' Iliade algé rienne  is a 1,000 line poem retracing Algeria's history in great historical details.  Throughout, Cheikh Zakaria recounts all the names that have shapped the Algeria's history. He goes through all the regions' history and their greatest most emblematic figures. This poem is so valuable and beautiful.  It should be on the curriculum of any Arabic and history cursus in Algeria.  Perhaps it is and/or you know this poem? Who is Cheikh Moufdi Zakaria? Well, on 5th of July, three days from now, Algeria will celebrate 50 years of independence. A tremendous poem wa...

On the Steps of Cervantes in Algiers (2008) is a discussion in Arabic - with a French translation next to it - by Waciny Laredj on Algeria's past and present, the development of the Algerian novel.... and Cervantès.  It reads as a reflection on the Algerian collective-self.  I have it tagged for my next next reading but from the first two pages I was struck by the following.  Let me translate (emphasis in the text are my own) : "Chance, sometimes, works things well; unfortunately, men don't manage as much.  In the second century and the tenth century, Algeria saw the emergence and the passage of two emblematic figures: Lucius Apulée and Miguel de Cervantès.  Both founders of an atypical genre: the novel.  Their texts are foundation stones, 'The Golden Ass' and 'Don Quichotte', who were born fully or partially on Algerian soil, altered the face of literature on a universal scale.  However, this is never spoken of in Al...

Waciny Laredj's Les Fantômes de Jérusalem [The ghosts of Jerusalem]. This novel looks like it is this author's latest translated novel to have appeared in French.  It was out on 4 May 2012 published by Actes Sud.  Cant' wait to get my hands on it, definitely my next read after Aziz Chouaki . Waciny Laredj (al-3aradj الأعرج ) is a contemporary Algerian novelist who writes in Arabic.  Born in 1954. He has been translated in French quite widely but no English. I mean NONE (that I can find).  Darn it, can someone please translate him into English! The fantastic ArabLit blog compiled an excellent profile for him HERE .

"Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face — dark as the night — Yet shining like the sun with love's true light" Langston Hughes Hughes' poem is not suited in full to the picture, but you should know about it all the same. HERE . Photo via Radio Trottoir HERE on FB this morning. A thought for my 'olive groves' ♥ .

I just came upon this on Twitter via @sissinettedk Notice the photo caption : FOR 19 YEAR-OLD AMINE TIGHRI TO FEEL THAT HE IS STILL ALIVE AND TO REMIND HIMSELF OF HIS BIGGEST DREAM, TO FLEE FROM ALGERIA, HE HAS TATOOED HIMSELF ON HIS STOMACH WITH NEEDLE AND MASCARA: I WANT TO LIVE – BUT WHERE AND WITH WHOM? PLAGUED BY 50 PERCENT OF UNEMPLOYMENT AMONG 18 TO 30 YEAR-OLDS, LACK OF OPPORTUNITY, CORRUPTION AND A GROWING POPULATION OF YOUNG PEOPLE, ALGERIA COULD BE NEXT IN ‘THE ARAB SPRING’. (couldn't quite catch the name of the photographer...) PHOTO : CHRISTIAN OLS

I am adding to my list of modern Algerian writers : Jacques Derrida, the philosopher of course.  Philosophical writings can often be categorised as literature, or at least that's how I shall categorise some such. Here is a pdf for Archive Fever by Derrida, archives being one of my main (physical) place and area of study at present : Let us not begin at the beginning, nor even at the archive .

Some time ago I found on youtube, or picked up from a retweet on Twitter I can't remember, a video called 'Typical Habesha' parents. Watching it made me travel back to at least 20 years ago when my dad used to call as if he were stuck in a crashed car about to burst in flames: 'where is my coffee spoon' .... a dancing and ritual interlude to ' bring me my coffee spoon '. That darn spoon was always staring at him from a safe 5 centimeters' distance, waiting for me. If my eyes would so much as begin to roll he'd start a dramatic speech addressed to phantom witnesses about the disgrace of old age and the disgrace of fiendishly uncaring 10 year-old children. It was a tug-of-love between us and I remember this fondly. He's not habesha, nor am I, it's just that this video echoed well creased memories of many a spoon thrown at time and space! I've been hearing (very funny for me but perhaps not so much for those under peer pressure) storie...