Focus on Literature from Tunisia at the Frankfurt Book Fair 2010
The third of three special reports from the 2010 Frankfurt Book Fair by BOOK SA’s roving reporter Estelle Jobson. Click here for the other reports.
It’s easy to overlook those Arab countries that are part of the corpus of African literature, if you live far south on our continent and speak mostly English. On the furthest opposite end, one speaks and reads predominantly Arabic and French. As it is, dissemination of the literature of the twenty-plus countries of the Arab world is beset with difficulties – historical, linguistic, political and logistical – as well as awkward rivalries between the geographical regions of the Maghreb, the Mashreq, the Levant and the Arabian Peninsula.*
If you publish a book in Tunisia, which straddles Africa and the Middle East across the Mediterranean Sea, how likely is it that fellow Arabic readers off the continent will read it, never mind (anglophone) Africans further south? To date, it’s been rather unlikely. But there are whispers of change across the Arab writing world. Let’s hope they echo south, right down throughout Africa.
The runaway success of The Yacoubian Building by Egyptian dentist and writer, Alaa Al Aswany, has given the world a morsel of the feast of literature that lies beyond. Al Aswany’s semi-fictional critique of Egyptian society has spread like wildfire throughout the Middle East and has sold language rights all over Europe. The book has been adapted into a film and TV series and translated into at least seven European languages, in addition to English. This wave of interest in Arabic writing in the West is, in part, fuelled by an increase in prizes for Arab-language writers.
How can a writer from Tunisia, even one celebrated within the country, share his or her writing with the world, Arabic, African and international? How much are modern Tunisian writers still influenced by the country’s independence from France, widely understood to be a time of creative effervescence? And should a Tunisian writer publish locally or internationally and if the latter, where? Such weighty matters were discussed in a panel discussion held at the Frankfurt Book Fair, on that portentous date, 10.10.10, hosted by the fair’s Weltempfang: Centre for Politics, Literature and Translation.
Nouri Obaid, president of the Tunisian Publishers’ Association, outlined certain historical issues: “Before independence, i.e. 1956, most writing was in Arabic, although authors were strongly influenced by English and French literature. Tunisians, however, have paid a price for writing in Arabic, not French, while being in the Maghreb. After independence, most publishing houses were state-owned and writing was determined largely by school curricula. Then, from the 1980s onwards, the hegemony started to balance out with the rise of independent publishing. Now many writers are self-publishing, thereby creating a third publishing channel.”
The publishers’ association is attempting to increase professionalism and quality control within the industry and to build Maghreb-Mashreq relationships. With the Ministry of Culture, a national centre for translation has been set up to facilitate the translation of 60 Tunisian titles into foreign languages, although the distribution of these translations appears disappointing thus far. Trade events in Tunisia include the Tunis International Book Fair and Sfax Children’s Bookfair.
The panel was chaired by Samuel Shimon, Iraqi author, film-maker and co-founder of Banipal: Magazine of Modern Arab Literature, based in London. Founded together with publisher and editor, Margaret Obank, Banipal showcases writers of Arab origin in modestly-priced numbered “magazine” editions, really more like thematic anthologies. Banipal publishes works in English translation from whatever language the Arab author writes in, usually Arabic, but sometimes French, German or even Dutch. And some authors write in English. Titles include Arab American Authors; Literature in Yemen Today; Writing in Dutch; Iraqi Authors; and Modern Tunisian Literature. Each edition is a treasure trove of writing, with excerpts from novels, poems, short stories and book reviews. Forthcoming issues will cover Libyan writers and Arab writers in Scandinavia. Banipal also established a translation prize awarded annually to translators into English of a full-length literary work published originally in Arabic.
Walid Soliman, young writer, qualified literary translator and publisher at Walidoff Publishing, provided the interpretation from Arabic to English for the audience. Soliman, attending Frankfurt for the first time said, “I embarked on the double adventure of writing and becoming a publisher initially just to publish my writing and that of fellow writers and friends, because I was unhappy with the cover design and general poor quality of publishing in Tunisia.” Self-starter Soliman now publishes frontrunners in Tunisian literature, as well as key international authors, such as Mario Vargas Llosa. Soliman commented on a certain rigidity in the Tunisian publishing industry, sorely in need of an injection of younger, experimental publishers.
Also on the panel was Habib Selmi, one of Tunisia’s better known contemporary writers, who teaches Arabic literature in Paris. He has published two short story collections and eight novels. Selmi published his first books in Beirut, Lebanon, along with writers of repute from Syria and Egypt. “At the time, it was impossible to publish with state-run publishers in Tunisia,” he said, “so I went to Beirut which was, and still is, the centre of publishing in Arabic. I encourage Tunisian writers to do the same, to publish beyond Tunisia, in order to reach a greater readership.”
Selmi’s novels have indeed reached an international readership, having been translated into English, Italian and German, not in Germany but by Lenos Verlag in Switzerland. His most recent novel, The Scents of Marie-Claire was shortlisted for the International Prize for Arabic Fiction and is now published in English by Arabia Books. It has a deliciously erotic cover, the nape of a woman’s neck.
Although Selmi has lived in France since the 1980s and speaks fluent French, he chooses to write in Arabic and have his works translated. “Even though I am a francophile, I have a special feeling writing in Arabic. Writing in your mother tongue renders writing much more authentic,” he explained.
Wondering if there weren’t perhaps a few similarities with our own now Parisian writer, Breyten Breytenbach who also generally prefers his mother tongue, I asked Selmi about his contact with southern African literature. His face lit up. He told me that he has read Disgrace twice as well as Waiting for the Barbarians.
“Ah, yes. Not to mention Tsotsi,” he continued, in French. “I will never forget that film. And Coetzee…” he paused. “Wow. Génial, brilliant! When I read Disgrace, I felt afraid. Even when there is no violent act, you can feel the violence in the air. And I love the way he writes about dogs. For us a dog is usually a domestic animal, simply a pet. But in Coetzee’s writing, the dog evokes tremendous fear. His writing about the land itself is brilliant too. It is as if the earth is violent too, which in principle, it shouldn’t be. It’s as if there are no trees. It creates a compelling atmosphere. Coetzee’s writing touched me, right from the southern tip to the top of Africa. Is his writing in English as fantastically crisp as it is the French translation?”
Have I read Coetzee in French? “Well, I can’t say I have,” I admitted. “Perhaps it’s time to read something in translation?” That said, since I can already read a fair amount of southern African writers in their language of preference, I think it’s time to head north (or south, depending on one’s point of departure).
I’m going to read my copy of Modern Tunisian Literature. I will be able to savour samples from about 35 writers, reaching to me from the very top of Africa. Why, the collection is very like a box of more-ish pistachio nuts from the Maghreb. To be peeled and savoured one by one.
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Geographical footnote:
*For those of us who need help with geography north of Zimbabwe, here’s the lowdown:
- Arabian Peninsula: Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, UAE
- Maghreb: Algeria, Libya, Malta, Mauritania, Morocco, Tunisia
- Mashreq: Cyprus, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, Palestinian Authority, Syria
- The Levant: Egypt, Israel, Jordan, Lebanon, Palestinian Territories, Syria, Turkey
Read an overview of contemporary Arab literature by Margaret Obank of Banipal.
















