Summer Reads

The Islamist

Volumes to be said about this one. Started its life (for me) on a rainy day in a pub in Shepherd's Bush. Resisted it for a while and then succumbed, and now happy about it. Accompanied me in Damascus and my observations there- good investment. Very acute observations, however some very naive. That is the main problem of the book- it's thoroughness is unbalanced. Some observations are very superficial and stereotypical while others go in depth. Appreciated the Saudi Arabia bit. It's insistence on calling the British Intelligence to more vigilance when it comes to Muslims makes it read like an informants report- which is a real shame because it does offer a very interesting snapshot of Islamist movements in London. Eye-opener for a hill-billy from Oxford. To be consulted for my upcoming definition for 'British Muslim' and worse 'British Muslim Novel'.

Bizi Bırakıp Nereye Gidiyorsun Türk (memoirs of a Turkish officer in Syria and Palestine)

Not Seven Pillars of Wisdom but hey! Considerably shorter and very heavy on unit manoevres, now and then cultural clash with the Arabs, with the protagonist falling ill now and then, which hit home with girls running with high fever in the house in Zabadani, and no one got spared the diarrhea. There's also a curious meeting with T.E. Lawrence where he offers him money but of course the Turk refuses. But the best is the passage where he is trying to convince bedouins that he knows more about Islam then they do. He devises a contest and beats them all :-)

The Pickup

Book read on promise. The reward was the unexpected reference to Shahrour, and through Göle, of all people! So Shahrour has entered main stream, although word on the Damascene street is that he is a scoundrel, and how can you trust your eyes with a dentist? (and this coming from a half-blind man, so one has to mark his words) Here I am looking at how Rhys plays with subjectivity in her novels and comes Gordimer with her bag of tricks, I mean, Rhys looks so elementary after that, I may as well throw the diss into the bin. Very cross with Gordimer. I did not like the protagonist(in), her motives were a bit too vague whereas the 'Middleeastern' (Syrian? Yemeni?) guy looked much more believable. This 'ethical turn' in the South African novel was also there, with the sexual harassment case. Who can say which country belongs to whom blah blah blah

Ahmet Mithat Efendi Avrupa'da

The father of the Turkish novel visits the Stockholm Exhibition, and then takes off to Paris with a married Russia woman, to discover the similarities between the two cultures--- well, both lagging behind Europe it turns out, but unspoilt human nature etc. etc. Madame Gulnar (her pen name) speaks perfect Ottoman Turkish and translates Pushkin into Turkish. So another to be reckoned with in the Utrecht database (make a mental note!) Of course far more progressed than the 'Orient', Ahmet Mithat finds little fault with the orientalists' treatment of, say, Egypt. Anyway, orientals at the time were not quite so militant about correcting misconceptions. Where did all this laissez-faire go? *sigh*

Sweetness in the Belly

An Irish girl brought up in a shrine in Morocco spends her youth in Harar. Now despite the improbable story-line, the protagonist was much more believable. I really like the idea of a sufi order around Bilal Habeshi, it turns out it is Camilla Gibb's brain child. Probably not Muslim herself. Again the question. Does the British Muslim novel have to be written by a Muslim? Or is it enough that the narrator or the focalizer is Muslim?

Small Island

Started in an overcast June day in a basement kitchen and ended on the beach facing Chios. The bits in Jamaica were really nice and chimed in with Rhys's descriptions, me feeling I'm doing something for the diss. What a wonderful 'founding myth'. I am tempted to write to one for British muslims. Did they fight in WW2? where can I get such info? (maybe yahoo questions) does a community need to have fought in WW2 to be considered to have contributed to the 'nation'? I enjoyed even the jungle bits, which I would not have had I not spent my last hours in Istanbul watching 3 episodes of Lost back to back!

Homo Faber

Thanks to Merle. Had I not been sent this book, Max Frisch would have remained as the writer of Biederman und die Brandstifter. What rubbish! Anyway, now he's a cross between Isherwood and Auster in my mind. Kept thinking of Neubauer as I read the book and my terrible gaffe. Again relished the plane bauch-landing bits no doubt due to my Lost-mania. There's almost a touch of McEwan as well, with him introducing scenes and unravelling what they mean slowly afterwards.

Maze

Greek writer based in London. Looked promising but again a novel about troup movements with not much to lighten the page--- certain aphorisms about the end of the Ottoman Empire. Text book. Will probably ditch it for Hanan ak-Shaykh's Only in London in my search for the British Muslim novel.