Country Focus: Lebanon (Lubnan in Arabic)
The Hakawati: A Story
by Rabih Alameddine (Lebanese-American)
Originally published: Random House, 2008.
My edition: Anchor Books, 2009. 513 pgs.
Acclaim: Winner of the Rome Prize for Best International Book of the Year 2009
Early in his multi-layered novel, author Rabih Alameddine explains to the reader that “A hakawati is a teller of tales, myths and fables (hekayat). A storyteller, an entertainer. A troubadour of sorts, someone who earns his keep by beguiling an audience with yarns.”
Osama al-Kharrat, a middle-aged Lebanese man, is The Hakawati‘s hakawati. Planning to spend the Eid al-Adha holiday with his family, he has just arrived in Beirut in 2003 after a 26 year absence. Shocked to find out that his father is deathly ill, his mood turns somber and reflective. As narrator, al-Kharrat bounces around between a multitude of storylines: his past and that of his father’s, grandfather’s, great-grandfather’s and his beloved Uncle Jihad’s, a fairy tale starring a feisty woman named Fatima, and the fictionalized heroic exploits of Prince Baybars. The alternating threads of these stories stretch the length of the novel, which means there is a confusing array of characters, settings and time periods. Keeping track of them all isn’t easy, especially since these stories are interrupted by additional (albeit brief) fables.
Although several Lebanese characters in The Hakawati consider America an enemy for supporting Israel at the expense of Palestinians – 100,000 of whom were displaced to Lebanon – al-Kharrat and his family are decidedly non-political, follow the Druze faith and are accepting of American culture. al-Kharrat grew up speaking English and strums Beatles songs on his guitar, so when his homeland erupts into civil war it is no stretch for his wealthy family to send him to UCLA. Alameddine divides his time between Beirut and San Francisco; I imagine that al-Kharrat’s awkwardness in both cultures derive from feelings and experiences that Alameddine has personally experienced. A scene of being strip-searched at LAX is particularly palpable. Since The Hakawati was published post-9/11, I had to wonder at Alameddine’s choice of names – Osama and Jihad – for two main characters. No other Arab names come more loaded.
The Hakawati certainly gives the reader a taste of life in Lebanon, past, present and fictional. The October War, oud playing, pigeoneering, Druze faith, hakawati tradition, the Fatima’s Hand amulet, weddings and funerals are just a few of the many facets of Lebanese culture that Alameddine weaves into his lengthy, far-reaching novel.
In my book (or what Lebanon means to me and maybe you, too)
You dropped a bomb on me
In 1983, I was eleven years old and had no idea that the Lebanese had been fighting a civil war since 1975, why Americans would be targeted by suicide bombers, or where Beirut was. I just thought in terms of the 3 “b’s”: Beirut=bombs=bad.
Date: April 18, 1983
Target: U.S. embassy in Beirut
Method: suicide bomber driving a delivery van
Deaths: 63 people, including 32 Lebanese and 17 Americans
Perpetrators: Hezbollah claimed responsibility
Date: October 23, 1983
Targets: U.S. Marine Corps Barracks and the French “Drakkar” Barracks for the 1er Régiment de Chasseurs Parachutistes
Method: 2 suicide bombers driving trucks
Deaths: 241 American servicemen and 58 French paratroopers
Perpetrators: the organization Islamic Jihad claimed responsibility
Still making a prophet
After seeing Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet countless times at thrift stores and used book sales, I finally gave in and read it. The Prophet‘s second-hand store ubiquity was not all in my head; these 26 mystical poems have not been out of print since the collection was published in 1923. In 1965, at the height of The Prophet‘s popularity, 5,000 copies were sold a week. The Lebanese author is the third best-selling poet of all time, after Shakespeare and Lao-Tzu. From the chapter on Marriage:
“Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.”
I still wanna Ralph in the White House
“The only difference between the Republican and Democratic parties is the velocities with which their knees hit the floor when corporations knock on their door. That’s the only difference.” Nader re-delivered his famous quote when I saw him speak at the University of Montana a few years ago. Ralph Nader has dedicated his life to protecting Americans from big business, which is one of the reasons I voted for him in the 2000 election. Nader’s parents emigrated from Lebanon and he has spoken Arabic fluently since childhood.