Democratic Palestine : 45 (ص 34)
غرض
- عنوان
- Democratic Palestine : 45 (ص 34)
- المحتوى
-
The Woman in Three of
Ghassan Kanafani’s Stories
In July, we marked the martyrdom of Ghassan Kanafani, Palestinian writer and Politbureau member of
the PFLP, who was assassinated by Zionist agents in 1972. In remembrance of his rich contribution to
Palestinian literature, chiefly through short — story writing, we bring the following analysis by Mohamed
Idris.
by Mohamed Idris
In many works of Ghassan Kanafani, the woman plays a
peculiar moral role whose ultimate significance lies well beyond
the immediate world of the works themselves. This essay
attempts to trace and analyze this role in three of his short
stories: «Till We Return,» «A Letter from Gaza» and «The
Land of Sad Oranges.» But first let us see what each of them is
about.
I. «Till We Return»
Set in the Naqab desert (South Palestine) around the
once his own land, the land which was the sc ene i
days, as well as the most horrible hours, in his life. Hence his
tension and excitement. While his feet were «wrestling with the
hot desert sand, his mind was a racetrack for countless
memories and feelings.» His tension and excitement rise as he
comes nearer to his ex — home, now his target. He remembers
what his commander told him: «It’s your land. Didn’t you live
there? Well, you know it better than anyone. In one.of the
fields they have erected a water tower to irrigate the land which
was always yours and your neighbours’. I ‘think you
understand. The amount of dynamite you haveis sufficient...»
The smell of his land, which he left seven years ago, stirs in
him memories which he has always feared to recall. Then, in a
flashback, he revisualizes the events of his last day on his land...
Here Kanafani presents three successive pictures — actually
two, the second being implicit in the third. The first one shows
Jewish gunmen sweeping the plantations and terrorizing their
inhabitants into leaving them. The hero (who is to become the:
freedom fighter the story is about) realizes that he has to: leave,
at least temporarily: ,
ie reached the mate of
eyes. He tried to resist the aad feeling which:that !
But he found himself arrested by the heart — brea
20) ;
land? Hadn’t you better pay back to che earth what you “owe it, ven if you
have to pay from your blood and flesh? Se
Speechless, he took her by the hand again and pulled her back to the field.
His soul’s ear couldn’t help responding to the good call from the wide eyes.
Then,fusing the second picture into the third, Kanafani
presents the latter thus:
That night, they hanged his wife from the old tree between the mountain and
the open square. He could see her hanging, stark naked, with her hair, which
they had shaved off her head, tied round her neck. Bright black blood was
flowing from her mouth. It was hard to believe that just an hour before she
had filled the square with bullets, fire and blood. They had skinned his. back
with their whips, and then tied him to the tree opposite to the one on which
they hanged his wife. They tied him there to stare, helpless as a corpse, at his
34
man jike him oO live i in for good; he has therefore been looking
ANE B
herald the ef an re
rin one of her wide.”
wife, and cry out like a madman. When dying, she bade him «Farewell,» they
filled her mouth with earth. They let him go into the desert, believing that his
memories would soon kill him.
But had they expected that these memories, instead of
killing him, would drive him back to shatter with his dynamite
the «peace» they had founded on terror and murder, they
would certainly have never been so «generous» with him.
The flood of memories, we are told, is stopped by the great
explosion of the giant water tower. As he reaches the camp, he
finds the commander waiting for him by his own tent.
«Has it gone alright?» He nodded, too tired to speak. «Are you alright?» He
nodded again, more firmly, and added, «Have you prepared my mission for
...tomorrow?» Surprised, the commander said, «No. You can’t go on a mission
tottiorrow. You must rest.» «I can,» he readily retorted. «Till when, do you
think, can you go on like this?» «Till we return.»
Il. «A Letter from Gaza»
Written in 1956, this story, too, depicts a crucial day in the
life of the narrator, the letter writer. He is a young Gaza teacher
who has been working in Kuwait both to support his mother
and his dead brother’s family, and to save up the money needed
to cover his long -— desired study of civil engineering in the US.
His friend Mustafa, who has already been there, has recently
sent him word to the effect that he, the narrator, has been
admitted to the University of California, and that his residence
there has been secured.
~The’ action, presented through the narrator’s letter of
response to Mustafa in the US, actually begins with the
narrator having recently come back to Gaza for his summer
vacation. We are told that Gaza, his hometown, has always
seemed to him an uninteresting, uninspiring place for a young
; tacluded in his friend’s letter is expected to
for-him to materialize an old dream. But in
r, the narrater surprises Mustafa with his
ision to remain in Gaza, and never leave it. He
his owr
{ took my. vacation in June...I found Gaza the same as you and I
vs. kni Jike a rusty shell that the waves had cast onto a sandy
yarrow lanes and their special smell, the smell of defeat
@ } bought some apples and went to the hospital to visit my
He a; the beautiful girl with thirteen springs behind her. I knew that
her mother and mine were hiding something from me, something they could
not say to me by word of mouth...I loved Nadia — indeed, I liked all her
generation, who had been suckled on defeat and homelessness.
Nadia was lying in bed. In her eyes, there was sublime silence, and in the
black center of each there glowed a still tear. Her face was quiet and
motionless, like that of an aggrieved, suffering prophet. Though a child, she
looked much older than a child...
«Uncle, you are back from Kuwait?»
«Yes, Nadia. I have brought you presents, many presents, from Kuwait.
When you recover...I’ll give them to you. Among them are the red trousers
which you asked of me.» It was a lie that escaped from my mouth in a
confused effort to ease the tension of the situation. But Nadia shuddered, as if
Democratic Palestine, August 1991 - هو جزء من
- Democratic Palestine : 45
- تاريخ
- أغسطس ١٩٩١
- المنشئ
- الجبهة الشعبية لتحرير فلسطين
Contribute
Not viewed