via Arab Literature (in English):<\/p>\n
BY MLYNXQUALEY<\/a><\/span><\/span> on<\/em> SEPTEMBER 17, 2014<\/time><\/a> \u2022 ( 2<\/a> )<\/span><\/p>\nIt\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events that bend human capacity to understand our species, they continue to show up in literature, re-examined:<\/i><\/i> <\/p>\n<\/section>\n<\/a><\/p>\nThe massacre happened in 1982, between September 16 and 18, and is a moment that continues to stand out among the horrors we humans have enacted on one another. It is represented not just as a lived experience, but as a moment that changes individual and collec-tive\u00a0memory.<\/p>\nJean Genet\u2019s\u00a0\u201cQuatre heures \u00e0 Chatila\u201d (\u201cFour Hours in Shatila<\/a>\u201d)<\/strong>. Genet was among the first outsiders to witness the immediate aftermath of the massacres, and he wrote about this experience. 1983.<\/strong><\/p>\nJean Said Makdisi\u2019s\u00a0Beirut Fragments: A War Memoir. <\/em><\/strong>The events refracted through Makdisi\u2019s personal memories. 1991<\/strong>.<\/p>\nBahaa Taher\u2019s\u00a0Love in Exile. <\/em><\/strong>A novel about living in exile, including how one processes news while in exile.\u00a0<\/em>1995.<\/strong><\/p>\n“I ran to turn on the television. The soap opera Dallas was on. I left the television on and turned on the radio. I turned the dial to the different stations, but there were no newscasts. There were music and songs everywhere. But while I was turning the dial quickly and incessantly, the soap opera on television was interrupted. A female announcer with an expressionless face came on: ‘We\u2019ve just received a special report from Beirut. We advise sensitive and seriously ill people not to watch this report.'”\u00a0(Trans. Farouk Abdel Wahab.)<\/em><\/p>\nElias Khoury\u2019s\u00a0Gate of the Sun.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>Khoury, here as elsewhere, is obsessed with the intersection of memory and violence.\u00a0Dunya, a mutilated girl who survived\u00a0the Sabra and Shatila quicklime pits, recites her memory of the events to \u201cserve\u201d the Palestinian cause as a \u201cfund-raising tool.\u201d Her memory is stripped of any real meaning, either for her or for others, as she moves from\u00a0meetings to\u00a0TV shows to repeat what she saw \u2014 or now remembers that she saw \u2014 during those two days.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\nRadwa Ashour\u2019s\u00a0Spectres.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>This is also a memory of the memory \u2014 Ashour\u2019s co-protagonist, herself,\u00a0remembers how she was not following the news about Sabra and Shatila as events unfolded, as she was in transit between Budapest and Cairo. In one of the narrative\u2019s more emotional moments, she tells of her frustration at not having been attentive to the news, despite her acknowledgement that this attention would not have changed the outcome.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\n“Yet attention means that you are involved in the event, that the person who has been killed is yours and that you belong to him. Then again, no\u2014not altogether. \u2026 Perhaps it is similar to what my mother-in-law felt every time she thought of her son Mounif\u2026 She tries to remember what it was she was doing at 11 o\u2019clock on Monday night. Was she asleep? How could she have been asleep? The idea nearly drives her mad, sleep becomes a guilty act, and the fact that she doesn\u2019t know doesn\u2019t mitigate, but rather intensifies the guilt. “(Trans. Barbara Romaine.)<\/i><\/p>\nAdania Shibli\u2019s\u00a0Touch.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>In this disorienting novella, told through the lens of an eight-year-old girl, the narrator\u00a0must come to grips with these strange words: \u201cSabra\u201d and \u201cShatila.\u201d Shibli herself was eight when the massacres happened.\u00a02003.<\/b><\/p>\n“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
The massacre happened in 1982, between September 16 and 18, and is a moment that continues to stand out among the horrors we humans have enacted on one another. It is represented not just as a lived experience, but as a moment that changes individual and collec-tive\u00a0memory.<\/p>\n
Jean Genet\u2019s\u00a0\u201cQuatre heures \u00e0 Chatila\u201d (\u201cFour Hours in Shatila<\/a>\u201d)<\/strong>. Genet was among the first outsiders to witness the immediate aftermath of the massacres, and he wrote about this experience. 1983.<\/strong><\/p>\nJean Said Makdisi\u2019s\u00a0Beirut Fragments: A War Memoir. <\/em><\/strong>The events refracted through Makdisi\u2019s personal memories. 1991<\/strong>.<\/p>\nBahaa Taher\u2019s\u00a0Love in Exile. <\/em><\/strong>A novel about living in exile, including how one processes news while in exile.\u00a0<\/em>1995.<\/strong><\/p>\n“I ran to turn on the television. The soap opera Dallas was on. I left the television on and turned on the radio. I turned the dial to the different stations, but there were no newscasts. There were music and songs everywhere. But while I was turning the dial quickly and incessantly, the soap opera on television was interrupted. A female announcer with an expressionless face came on: ‘We\u2019ve just received a special report from Beirut. We advise sensitive and seriously ill people not to watch this report.'”\u00a0(Trans. Farouk Abdel Wahab.)<\/em><\/p>\nElias Khoury\u2019s\u00a0Gate of the Sun.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>Khoury, here as elsewhere, is obsessed with the intersection of memory and violence.\u00a0Dunya, a mutilated girl who survived\u00a0the Sabra and Shatila quicklime pits, recites her memory of the events to \u201cserve\u201d the Palestinian cause as a \u201cfund-raising tool.\u201d Her memory is stripped of any real meaning, either for her or for others, as she moves from\u00a0meetings to\u00a0TV shows to repeat what she saw \u2014 or now remembers that she saw \u2014 during those two days.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\nRadwa Ashour\u2019s\u00a0Spectres.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>This is also a memory of the memory \u2014 Ashour\u2019s co-protagonist, herself,\u00a0remembers how she was not following the news about Sabra and Shatila as events unfolded, as she was in transit between Budapest and Cairo. In one of the narrative\u2019s more emotional moments, she tells of her frustration at not having been attentive to the news, despite her acknowledgement that this attention would not have changed the outcome.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\n“Yet attention means that you are involved in the event, that the person who has been killed is yours and that you belong to him. Then again, no\u2014not altogether. \u2026 Perhaps it is similar to what my mother-in-law felt every time she thought of her son Mounif\u2026 She tries to remember what it was she was doing at 11 o\u2019clock on Monday night. Was she asleep? How could she have been asleep? The idea nearly drives her mad, sleep becomes a guilty act, and the fact that she doesn\u2019t know doesn\u2019t mitigate, but rather intensifies the guilt. “(Trans. Barbara Romaine.)<\/i><\/p>\nAdania Shibli\u2019s\u00a0Touch.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>In this disorienting novella, told through the lens of an eight-year-old girl, the narrator\u00a0must come to grips with these strange words: \u201cSabra\u201d and \u201cShatila.\u201d Shibli herself was eight when the massacres happened.\u00a02003.<\/b><\/p>\n“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Jean Said Makdisi\u2019s\u00a0Beirut Fragments: A War Memoir. <\/em><\/strong>The events refracted through Makdisi\u2019s personal memories. 1991<\/strong>.<\/p>\nBahaa Taher\u2019s\u00a0Love in Exile. <\/em><\/strong>A novel about living in exile, including how one processes news while in exile.\u00a0<\/em>1995.<\/strong><\/p>\n“I ran to turn on the television. The soap opera Dallas was on. I left the television on and turned on the radio. I turned the dial to the different stations, but there were no newscasts. There were music and songs everywhere. But while I was turning the dial quickly and incessantly, the soap opera on television was interrupted. A female announcer with an expressionless face came on: ‘We\u2019ve just received a special report from Beirut. We advise sensitive and seriously ill people not to watch this report.'”\u00a0(Trans. Farouk Abdel Wahab.)<\/em><\/p>\nElias Khoury\u2019s\u00a0Gate of the Sun.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>Khoury, here as elsewhere, is obsessed with the intersection of memory and violence.\u00a0Dunya, a mutilated girl who survived\u00a0the Sabra and Shatila quicklime pits, recites her memory of the events to \u201cserve\u201d the Palestinian cause as a \u201cfund-raising tool.\u201d Her memory is stripped of any real meaning, either for her or for others, as she moves from\u00a0meetings to\u00a0TV shows to repeat what she saw \u2014 or now remembers that she saw \u2014 during those two days.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\nRadwa Ashour\u2019s\u00a0Spectres.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>This is also a memory of the memory \u2014 Ashour\u2019s co-protagonist, herself,\u00a0remembers how she was not following the news about Sabra and Shatila as events unfolded, as she was in transit between Budapest and Cairo. In one of the narrative\u2019s more emotional moments, she tells of her frustration at not having been attentive to the news, despite her acknowledgement that this attention would not have changed the outcome.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\n“Yet attention means that you are involved in the event, that the person who has been killed is yours and that you belong to him. Then again, no\u2014not altogether. \u2026 Perhaps it is similar to what my mother-in-law felt every time she thought of her son Mounif\u2026 She tries to remember what it was she was doing at 11 o\u2019clock on Monday night. Was she asleep? How could she have been asleep? The idea nearly drives her mad, sleep becomes a guilty act, and the fact that she doesn\u2019t know doesn\u2019t mitigate, but rather intensifies the guilt. “(Trans. Barbara Romaine.)<\/i><\/p>\nAdania Shibli\u2019s\u00a0Touch.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>In this disorienting novella, told through the lens of an eight-year-old girl, the narrator\u00a0must come to grips with these strange words: \u201cSabra\u201d and \u201cShatila.\u201d Shibli herself was eight when the massacres happened.\u00a02003.<\/b><\/p>\n“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Bahaa Taher\u2019s\u00a0Love in Exile. <\/em><\/strong>A novel about living in exile, including how one processes news while in exile.\u00a0<\/em>1995.<\/strong><\/p>\n“I ran to turn on the television. The soap opera Dallas was on. I left the television on and turned on the radio. I turned the dial to the different stations, but there were no newscasts. There were music and songs everywhere. But while I was turning the dial quickly and incessantly, the soap opera on television was interrupted. A female announcer with an expressionless face came on: ‘We\u2019ve just received a special report from Beirut. We advise sensitive and seriously ill people not to watch this report.'”\u00a0(Trans. Farouk Abdel Wahab.)<\/em><\/p>\nElias Khoury\u2019s\u00a0Gate of the Sun.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>Khoury, here as elsewhere, is obsessed with the intersection of memory and violence.\u00a0Dunya, a mutilated girl who survived\u00a0the Sabra and Shatila quicklime pits, recites her memory of the events to \u201cserve\u201d the Palestinian cause as a \u201cfund-raising tool.\u201d Her memory is stripped of any real meaning, either for her or for others, as she moves from\u00a0meetings to\u00a0TV shows to repeat what she saw \u2014 or now remembers that she saw \u2014 during those two days.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\nRadwa Ashour\u2019s\u00a0Spectres.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>This is also a memory of the memory \u2014 Ashour\u2019s co-protagonist, herself,\u00a0remembers how she was not following the news about Sabra and Shatila as events unfolded, as she was in transit between Budapest and Cairo. In one of the narrative\u2019s more emotional moments, she tells of her frustration at not having been attentive to the news, despite her acknowledgement that this attention would not have changed the outcome.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\n“Yet attention means that you are involved in the event, that the person who has been killed is yours and that you belong to him. Then again, no\u2014not altogether. \u2026 Perhaps it is similar to what my mother-in-law felt every time she thought of her son Mounif\u2026 She tries to remember what it was she was doing at 11 o\u2019clock on Monday night. Was she asleep? How could she have been asleep? The idea nearly drives her mad, sleep becomes a guilty act, and the fact that she doesn\u2019t know doesn\u2019t mitigate, but rather intensifies the guilt. “(Trans. Barbara Romaine.)<\/i><\/p>\nAdania Shibli\u2019s\u00a0Touch.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>In this disorienting novella, told through the lens of an eight-year-old girl, the narrator\u00a0must come to grips with these strange words: \u201cSabra\u201d and \u201cShatila.\u201d Shibli herself was eight when the massacres happened.\u00a02003.<\/b><\/p>\n“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
“I ran to turn on the television. The soap opera Dallas was on. I left the television on and turned on the radio. I turned the dial to the different stations, but there were no newscasts. There were music and songs everywhere. But while I was turning the dial quickly and incessantly, the soap opera on television was interrupted. A female announcer with an expressionless face came on: ‘We\u2019ve just received a special report from Beirut. We advise sensitive and seriously ill people not to watch this report.'”\u00a0(Trans. Farouk Abdel Wahab.)<\/em><\/p>\nElias Khoury\u2019s\u00a0Gate of the Sun.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>Khoury, here as elsewhere, is obsessed with the intersection of memory and violence.\u00a0Dunya, a mutilated girl who survived\u00a0the Sabra and Shatila quicklime pits, recites her memory of the events to \u201cserve\u201d the Palestinian cause as a \u201cfund-raising tool.\u201d Her memory is stripped of any real meaning, either for her or for others, as she moves from\u00a0meetings to\u00a0TV shows to repeat what she saw \u2014 or now remembers that she saw \u2014 during those two days.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\nRadwa Ashour\u2019s\u00a0Spectres.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>This is also a memory of the memory \u2014 Ashour\u2019s co-protagonist, herself,\u00a0remembers how she was not following the news about Sabra and Shatila as events unfolded, as she was in transit between Budapest and Cairo. In one of the narrative\u2019s more emotional moments, she tells of her frustration at not having been attentive to the news, despite her acknowledgement that this attention would not have changed the outcome.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\n“Yet attention means that you are involved in the event, that the person who has been killed is yours and that you belong to him. Then again, no\u2014not altogether. \u2026 Perhaps it is similar to what my mother-in-law felt every time she thought of her son Mounif\u2026 She tries to remember what it was she was doing at 11 o\u2019clock on Monday night. Was she asleep? How could she have been asleep? The idea nearly drives her mad, sleep becomes a guilty act, and the fact that she doesn\u2019t know doesn\u2019t mitigate, but rather intensifies the guilt. “(Trans. Barbara Romaine.)<\/i><\/p>\nAdania Shibli\u2019s\u00a0Touch.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>In this disorienting novella, told through the lens of an eight-year-old girl, the narrator\u00a0must come to grips with these strange words: \u201cSabra\u201d and \u201cShatila.\u201d Shibli herself was eight when the massacres happened.\u00a02003.<\/b><\/p>\n“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Elias Khoury\u2019s\u00a0Gate of the Sun.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>Khoury, here as elsewhere, is obsessed with the intersection of memory and violence.\u00a0Dunya, a mutilated girl who survived\u00a0the Sabra and Shatila quicklime pits, recites her memory of the events to \u201cserve\u201d the Palestinian cause as a \u201cfund-raising tool.\u201d Her memory is stripped of any real meaning, either for her or for others, as she moves from\u00a0meetings to\u00a0TV shows to repeat what she saw \u2014 or now remembers that she saw \u2014 during those two days.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\nRadwa Ashour\u2019s\u00a0Spectres.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>This is also a memory of the memory \u2014 Ashour\u2019s co-protagonist, herself,\u00a0remembers how she was not following the news about Sabra and Shatila as events unfolded, as she was in transit between Budapest and Cairo. In one of the narrative\u2019s more emotional moments, she tells of her frustration at not having been attentive to the news, despite her acknowledgement that this attention would not have changed the outcome.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\n“Yet attention means that you are involved in the event, that the person who has been killed is yours and that you belong to him. Then again, no\u2014not altogether. \u2026 Perhaps it is similar to what my mother-in-law felt every time she thought of her son Mounif\u2026 She tries to remember what it was she was doing at 11 o\u2019clock on Monday night. Was she asleep? How could she have been asleep? The idea nearly drives her mad, sleep becomes a guilty act, and the fact that she doesn\u2019t know doesn\u2019t mitigate, but rather intensifies the guilt. “(Trans. Barbara Romaine.)<\/i><\/p>\nAdania Shibli\u2019s\u00a0Touch.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>In this disorienting novella, told through the lens of an eight-year-old girl, the narrator\u00a0must come to grips with these strange words: \u201cSabra\u201d and \u201cShatila.\u201d Shibli herself was eight when the massacres happened.\u00a02003.<\/b><\/p>\n“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Radwa Ashour\u2019s\u00a0Spectres.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>This is also a memory of the memory \u2014 Ashour\u2019s co-protagonist, herself,\u00a0remembers how she was not following the news about Sabra and Shatila as events unfolded, as she was in transit between Budapest and Cairo. In one of the narrative\u2019s more emotional moments, she tells of her frustration at not having been attentive to the news, despite her acknowledgement that this attention would not have changed the outcome.\u00a01998.<\/strong><\/p>\n“Yet attention means that you are involved in the event, that the person who has been killed is yours and that you belong to him. Then again, no\u2014not altogether. \u2026 Perhaps it is similar to what my mother-in-law felt every time she thought of her son Mounif\u2026 She tries to remember what it was she was doing at 11 o\u2019clock on Monday night. Was she asleep? How could she have been asleep? The idea nearly drives her mad, sleep becomes a guilty act, and the fact that she doesn\u2019t know doesn\u2019t mitigate, but rather intensifies the guilt. “(Trans. Barbara Romaine.)<\/i><\/p>\nAdania Shibli\u2019s\u00a0Touch.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>In this disorienting novella, told through the lens of an eight-year-old girl, the narrator\u00a0must come to grips with these strange words: \u201cSabra\u201d and \u201cShatila.\u201d Shibli herself was eight when the massacres happened.\u00a02003.<\/b><\/p>\n“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
“Yet attention means that you are involved in the event, that the person who has been killed is yours and that you belong to him. Then again, no\u2014not altogether. \u2026 Perhaps it is similar to what my mother-in-law felt every time she thought of her son Mounif\u2026 She tries to remember what it was she was doing at 11 o\u2019clock on Monday night. Was she asleep? How could she have been asleep? The idea nearly drives her mad, sleep becomes a guilty act, and the fact that she doesn\u2019t know doesn\u2019t mitigate, but rather intensifies the guilt. “(Trans. Barbara Romaine.)<\/i><\/p>\n
Adania Shibli\u2019s\u00a0Touch.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>In this disorienting novella, told through the lens of an eight-year-old girl, the narrator\u00a0must come to grips with these strange words: \u201cSabra\u201d and \u201cShatila.\u201d Shibli herself was eight when the massacres happened.\u00a02003.<\/b><\/p>\n“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
“The girl tried to understand the meaning of the words\u00a0Sabra<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0Shatila<\/em>. Maybe they were one word. The word\u00a0Palestine<\/em>\u00a0was unclear, expect that it was forbidden. The color of the green board resembled that color of cactus.”\u00a0(Trans. Paula Haydar)<\/em><\/p>\nMahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Mahmoud Darwish\u2019s\u00a0In the Presence of Absence. <\/em><\/strong>The massacres still haunted Darwish\u2019s writing, as he remembered them through the lens of Genet\u2019s writing.\u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\nWhat partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
“You will know from radio stations that the night of Sabra and Shatila was all lit up so that the killers could peer into the eyes of their victims and not miss a moment of ecstasy on the slaughtering table. You will read what Jean Genet wrote:<\/p>\n
What partying, what feasting went on there as death seemed to take part in the pranks of soldiers drunk on wine, on hatred, and probably drunk on the joy of entertaining the Israeli army, which was listening, looking, giving<\/em>\u00a0encouragement, egging them on. I did not see the Israeli army listening and watching. I saw what it did. Killers had carried out the operation, but<\/em>\u00a0numerous torture squads were probably the ones who split skulls, slashed thighs, cut off arms, hands and fingers, and dragged the dying and disabled by ropes, men and women who were still alive. A barbaric party had taken place there: rage, drunkenness, dancing, singing, curses, laments, moans, in honor of the voyeurs who were laughing as they sat on the top floor of the Akka hospital.<\/em><\/p>\nYou cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
You cannot cross the threshold of pain nor reach the source of the nightmare\u00a0to bear witness to your body being chopped up nor peer into the eyes of your killer, whom you know very well. You cannot speak to anyone, because the world is empty of the living and filled with the dead who bid farewell yesterday to their brothers and protectors who sailed on Greek-built ships of Trojan symbolism. The victims did not finish any of their tasks: they did not finish their dinner, prayers, or nightmares. “(Trans. Sinan Antoon)<\/em><\/p>\nAlso, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Also, Darwish\u2019s much earlier poem, \u201cSabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\nRawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Rawi Hage\u2019s\u00a0De Niro\u2019s Game. <\/em><\/strong>Here, Hage explores the mind of George,\u00a0one of the Sabra and Shatila killers. Hany Ali Abdelfattah writes about \u201cNational Trauma and the \u2018Uncanny\u2019 in Hage\u2019s Novel De Niro\u2019s Game<\/a>\u201d \u00a02006.<\/strong><\/p>\n\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\nAri Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\u201c\u2026it was all like a movie. All like a movie. Dead people everywhere. Do you still want to hear? Do you want to hear more? More? He shouted at me, here, drink! He cranked his gun and put it in my face.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ari Folman\u2019s\u00a0Waltz with Bashir.\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>A Hebrew-language engagement with Sabra and Shatila that Palestinian-British author Mischa Hiller, who wrote a novel about the massacre, says \u201cleft too much unsaid.\u201d<\/a>\u00a02008.<\/strong><\/p>\nMischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Mischa Hiller\u2019s Sabra Zoo<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em>(read an extract)<\/a>. Palestinian-British novelist Mischa Hiller told an interviewer<\/a>that he was living in Beirut when the massacre happened and he carried it with him until he wrote the book.\u00a02010.<\/strong><\/p>\nNajwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Najwan Darwish\u2019s \u201cThe Nightmares Bus to Sabra and Shatila<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/strong>From a version translated by Marilyn Hacker and Antoine Jockey:<\/p>\nI slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\nPain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
I slept in my parents\u2019 house and I was dreaming about her house. When I awoke\nI saw my brothers\nHung\nFrom the roof of the Church of the Resurrection\nOut of compassion, the Lord said: this is my own suffering.\nI mustered up the hanged men\u2019s pride and said: in my opinion, it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\n
Pain illuminates everything and I love it more than my nightmares.<\/p>\n
via Arab Literature (in English): BY MLYNXQUALEY on SEPTEMBER 17, 2014 \u2022 ( 2 ) It\u2019s now been thirty-two years since the Sabra and Shatila massacres in Lebanon\u2019s Palestinian refugee camps. Like other events...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[1581,1582],"class_list":["post-12347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-palestine","tag-sabra","tag-shatila"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12347"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12354,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12347\/revisions\/12354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}