Tag: women’s rights

Eve Out of her Ruins by Ananda Devi (tr. Jeffrey Zuckerman)

Eve Out of Her Ruins

a nutshell: this is a stunningly moving novel that sees four adolescent Mauritians (Eve, Savita, Saadiq & Clélio) narrate their struggle for survival in an impoverished neighbourhood of Port Louis, the capital

a line: “I read as if books could loosen the noose tightening around my throat. I read to understand that there is somewhere else. A dimension where possibilities shimmer”

an image: at one point, Saad remarks that poverty is the harshest of jailers – a particularly resonant image given the trajectory of the story

a thought: I was interested in the moment when a teacher tells Saadiq, in three different languages, that he owes it to himself to succeed – afterwards I learned that most Mauritians are very multilingual, which makes Zuckerman’s beautiful translation (of French sprinkled with Creole phrases & unfamiliar syntax) all the more admirable

a fact: the novel was brought to the screen as The Children of Troumaron (2012), which is now firmly on my watchlist!

want to read Eve Out of her Ruins? visit here

Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali

a nutshell: from Somalia to the US via Saudi Arabia, Ethiopia, Kenya and the Netherlands, this polarising public figure’s memoir follows her journey through an unimaginably turbulent childhood into an adulthood that pivots on her vocal disavowal of her former religion, Islam

a line: “Drinking wine and wearing trousers were nothing compared to reading the history of ideas.”

an image: while describing the period of her childhood spent in Mecca, the writer conjures up a strikingly vivid contrast between what she sees as the cool, beautiful, kindly space within the Grand Mosque and the intensely hot, filthy, cruel space outside the mosque’s doors

a thought: I was intrigued by Ali’s fairly understated comment on p.94 that novels were what saved her from submission – reading fiction gave her glimpses of another world, which ultimately sparked the sense of rebellion that changed her life, but once she had landed in the other world she refers only to non-fiction

a fact: Ali and I occupy very opposite ends of the political spectrum – and while I do try to read widely, which necessarily includes views I disagree with, my interest in the book waned as it went on; I felt like it became less a reflection on Ali’s life story and more an engine for promoting her hostility towards Islam

want to read Infidel? visit here

The Madwoman of Serrano by Dina Salústio (tr. Jethro Soutar)

a nutshell: digging deep into what it is to be a woman, this is the mystical story of the Serranoans – villagers whose lives are rooted in the prophecies (or not?) of a marginalised madwoman

a line: “She understood that in Serrano women who were witches were happier than women who weren’t. Or less unhappy at least.”

an image: amid the passage about the Serrano cats’ fertility, the mention of their special cat huts (with five evenly distributed alcoves where they could sleep) is one of the many eccentric asides of this novel

a thought: as a lifelong fan of the magical realism genre and all its accompanying dreamy timelessness, Serrano was a treat – a place that could go dozens of decades without adding so much as a comma to its annals, as Salústio writes, and where history repeated itself to the loop of the sun & the moon

a fact: this is the first novel by a woman to be published in Cape Verde, and the first to be translated into English thanks to the ever wonderful English PEN’s PEN Translates programme

want to read The Madwoman of Serrano? visit here

Running Commentary by Daphne Caruana Galizia

a nutshell: the Maltese woman writer I include in this project could be none other than Daphne Caruana Galizia, whose commitment to exposing injustice through her writing eventuated in the 2017 murder that sent shock waves across the world

a line: “It’s true that life is unfair and that much of it can’t be helped, but where I can do anything to avoid unfairness or to set it straight, then I will”

an image: I took the photo above at a vigil for Daphne in April 2018, which was one of countless global events that have kept her memory alive over the past 30 months (often with moving contributions from her sons, two of whom I had the privilege of meeting on occasion through my human rights work in London)

a thought: while reading through Daphne’s online notebook to prepare my blog post, I came across this article in which she notes that the real reason – which she had uncovered nearly a year earlier – for a US trip by the PM was at last being acknowledged as the truth, even though previously she had been badmouthed as a purveyor of fake news; I was struck by Daphne’s observation that in journalism, as in many areas in life, “you sometimes find the back-up you need a little too late” and touched by her readers’ comments at the time that they always had full faith in her

a fact: one of Daphne’s sons, Paul, has followed in her footsteps as a journalist and speaks about his mother’s murder for Tortoise’s podcast – I highly recommend a listen

want to read Running Commentary? visit here

The Farm by Joanne Ramos

book spine on side of sofa, the farm by joanne ramos

a nutshell: an eerie depiction of hypercapitalism & bodily colonisation, this novel follows a Filipina immigrant to the US who commits to being a ‘Host’ at Golden Oaks – a venture sort of like the Uber of pregnancies, where immigrants are paid to get a foetus from A (insemination) to B (birth) for the convenience of rich clients

a line: “But how many Good, Obedient Anyones truly make it in the world?”

an image: Ramos often conjures up an acutely oppressive atmosphere in her portrayal of life at the ‘Farm’, particularly in one scene where she describes humble bloated bodies, a crushing sky above, and the possibility of unnoticed shards of glass below (after a bottle is smashed)

a thought: this book was suggested by Cara Teo Ong, aka thebookingchild, who got in touch with the idea of a ‘buddy read’; after we had both read the novel, we shared our thoughts – take a look at Cara’s recap of our conversation here & read her own review here!

a fact: yesterday I stumbled across a news article (through my work in women’s rights) about 32 Cambodian women who received suspended jail terms for carrying the babies of Chinese clients – this is no ‘dystopia’, this is now

want to read The Farm? visit here

I Am Yours by Reema Zaman

a nutshell: this (stunningly written) memoir is a testament to self-love at a time when self-criticism is more in vogue – though not without flaws, it explores what it is to be a woman in a society set up for men and an immigrant in a society set up against outsiders

a line: “We know all I’ll get from biting my tongue is blood”

an image: I really liked how Zaman continually revisits her selves at various ages (3, 5, 11, 13, 18, 23, 27, 29) to mend & arrange the pieces

a thought: I found myself incredibly infuriated by some of the memoir’s male figures, particularly the one (anon. so as not to give anything away) who repeatedly orders her to “be less” – to tone down her intelligence/beauty – and her observations on the nonchalance with which he wounds, this noose woven by own hands

a fact: born in Bangladesh & raised in Thailand, the author graduated with degrees in Theater and Women’s Studies and made a living in NYC from acting/modelling/babysitting before deciding to dedicate a year to writing this book

want to read I Am Yours? visit here

Saman by Ayu Utami (tr. Pamela Allen)

Saman book with cover of woman writing on park bench and Empire State building in backdrop; book against blue sky and trees

a nutshell: this unusual novel drops in & out of the lives of several sexually liberated Indonesian women and a former Catholic priest, Saman, while exploring the perils facing a rubber tapping community

a line (or a few): “Something can suddenly evaporate from our memory, like a ghost, like a dream. We can feel the trace of it, somewhere within ourselves, without being able to reconstruct it anymore. We are left with hatred, anger, fear, love. But we don’t know why.”

an image: one character, Shakuntala, envisages her country as swirling with unpredictability, a place where the law oscillates like a pendulum – at one end is inefficiency or an unwillingness to act, on the other are all the ‘excesses’

a thought: women’s rights are a recurring theme throughout the novel, particularly in the chapter by Shakuntala, who rejects a visa application’s insistence that she take her father’s name as Javanese don’t have surnames (instead she decides to split her own name in two: ‘Shakun Tala’)

a fact: published in 1998, the novel was controversial due to its sexual explicitness and even prompted questions as to whether it was Utami’s own work (!!!); it ultimately became viewed as a ground-breaking work and sold 100,000 copies, as well as igniting the sastra wangi literary movement – a category that Utami herself has criticised

want to read Saman? visit here

Always Coca-Cola by Alexandra Chreiteh (tr. Michelle Hartman)

a nutshell: Abeer, a 20ish-year-old woman from a conservative family in dusty Beirut, lets us into the concerns preoccupying herself and her friends (think: virginity/pregnancy, sanitary pads, appearances)

a line: “Should I wait for an Always pad to fall from the heavens like rain, or a white dove, flapping its wings that keep the moisture from leaking out onto my clothes?”

an image: a boy informs Abeer that just as lemonade has three essential ingredients – water, lemon, sugar – so does a woman have three attributes; she must be a virgin, a wife, and a mother, in that order (blergh)

a thought: even with its attempts at humour, this is a sad novel voiced by a young protagonist with a blinkered attitude to women’s rights & essential freedoms; also, the second half contains a harrowing incident that is somewhat skimmed over

a fact: according to the blurb, the book received a stormy response in Lebanon (“an electric shock … grave social anomalies”) despite Chreiteh centring the book around Abeer, rigidly conservative & dogmatic, with her friends as the far more progressive characters

want to read Always Coca-Cola? visit here

Raising My Voice by Malalai Joya (co-written with Derrick O’Keefe)

Malalai Joya speaking in Finland

a nutshell: this is the extraordinary story of Malalai Joya, a lifelong women’s rights activist and former politician in her native Afghanistan, whose public denunciation of warlords led to several assassination attempts and suspension from parliament

a line: “By necessity, after decades of brutality, we are our sisters’ keepers”

an image: Joya portrays Afghanistan as a bird with one clipped wing – women – thus it cannot take off until half its people are free; she goes on to clarify that this isn’t achievable through overseas donations or enforceable at gunpoint, and she condemns the use of ‘women’s rights’ as a justification for US occupation

a thought: once again, I was left ashamed of my heritage – Joya writes of how Britain’s resentment at the loss of a colony (post-1919) and fear of a modern, independent country near India saw the British sow rebellion against Afghanistan’s progressive King Amanullah Khan and his reforms (incl. advancing women’s rights and compulsory education for all), culminating in his exile – an overthrow that is considered a disaster in Afghanistan’s history

a fact: this was the first time I heard of the ‘Jihad Schoolbook Scandal‘ – the US government’s $50-million publication of textbooks promoting a militaristic agenda to children in Societ-occupied Afghanistan in an apparent attempt to fuel a jihad against the Russians

 

want to read Raising My Voice? visit here