#saeed teebi

[jacobwren]

“I want to make my truth-telling body —my presence as a human being and as a writer— a danger to those who want to preserve their psychological safety, because safety for psychopathy is a danger to everyone. In itself, speaking out is an imaginative act, because it contains within it the conviction that a different future is possible. I want to remember that, as Edward Said stated, it is the duty of intellectuals to find an alternative way, a way that isn’t endorsed by a society that seeks to preserve the cruel status quo. I want to remember that, as Nizar Banat said, defeat has to be manufactured, and that it is intellectuals who have to accept defeat as logical and just, before it becomes palatable for everyone else. I want to never manufacture defeat. I want to take on the challenge of writing a story that has not been written, that is forbidden to be written, a story that occurs in a history that has not been accepted. I want to remember that artists can make even the oldest problems urgent and terrifying, that our perspective of the world tilts by the hands of the artist. I want to believe that we can be the shift in perspective.” - Saeed Teebi, You Will Not Kill Our Imagination

[readingtostaysane]

Woodlands; Her First Palestinian by Saeed Teebi

[jacobwren]

“But during my time at McGill, there was no specific moment when I determined to stop presenting myself as Palestinian. It didn’t take some major clapback to silence me, some definite transgression that I committed and for which I was punished. I certainly did not need a media firestorm at some encampment to let me know. I was too sensitive to my surroundings to need that. Instead, the shrinking body language, slight repulsions, bit lips, awkward smiles, hesitations, changes of subject, veiled jokes, evaporated connections—the accumulation of dozens of little cues and clues. With every new indication, I inched further toward caution about myself, about stating who I was. Eventually, I understood beyond doubt that my identity was unwanted.” - Saeed Teebi, You Will Not Kill Our Imagination: A Memoir of Palestine and Writing in Dark Times

[readingtostaysane]

Her first palestinian by Saeed Teebi - Review

rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4.5)

Her first palestinian is a short story collection about Palestinian emigrants who had to leave their motherland and are now living in Canada. 

The stories include a variety of characters, some left Palestine due to the genocide, others are children that were born in Canada and only visited Palestine during a short period of time, others only heard stories about the country. 

All of the short stories are well constructed and although there were some I didn’t enjoy as much they are there to humanize palestinians. Very few stories are about the conflict itself, but how palestinians live their daily life in a different country than their own. Consequently it shows how the genocide affects their personal lives, even if they are so far away. 

I cloaked my origins as well as I could. If pressed, I offered a summary statement: my parents are from the Middle East, or something equally bland and untraceable.

A big theme throughout the book is identity, some characters hide the fact that they’re palestinians, others say it proudly only to be encountered with oposition, rejection and anti-semitism claims.

The writing is accessible, it is clear that Teebi wanted this book to reach a wild audience, not only those who were familiar with arab traditions, but people from all around the world. It is simple, but direct, however it doesn’t take away from the stories, if anything it adds to it, these are just normal people narrating their lives. 

Most of all, I thought of the mountains that hugged our tiny village, that circumscribed our world. I missed those mountains, even if I always longed to escape their embrace.

I enjoyed how each short story had a different voice and that the reader can distinguish them. We don’t get confused about which story are we reading now, the difference is clear.

“My understanding is that the family would like to get the body to their home country so they can perform the funeral rites themselves, in their traditional way,” he said. “It’s an admirable purpose, isn’t it? You would understand that more than anybody.”

This collection dives deeply into the microagressions arabs suffer, especially in the West. Always being asked where they are from or in cases like the excert above, that the traditions in all arab countries are the same. Watching these microagressions happen through the eyes of the characters that we were following, it felt as if they had been directed at you. You could understand them right away as you were inside their head. However, most of the times they were never addressed, because the character was so used to them. Knowing this happens regularly in the real world just seems dystopian, but it was a point Teebi adressed extremelly well.

Mohsen had managed to emigrate as a young man long ago, establishing himself and starting a family. He returned to Gaza every few years — the ajnabi cousin, the foreigner — with his well-tended teeth and sunscreen-preserved skin (…) “How lucky you are,” he would say, taking languorous looks around, “to still have our homeland’s air cool the pupils of your eyes every day.” But everyone in Mohsen’s company would have traded places with him any day

The stories about emigration where without a doubt my favourites. It explores both sides, those who move to another country and those who stay behind and face the consequences. The ressentment of watching your family leave but knowing you'd do the same if the opportunity was granted. The way emigration takes away your identity and that you’d wish to say in your motherland, but knowing it isn’t safe. These were all adressed with care and it gave a new perspective.

What I want most is silence. Since the tumult started, since children began to be unearthed from the rubble of downed buildings, I ache for silence

Palestinians are constantly bombarded with the awful news that their homeland is suffering. Sometimes it gets too much and these short stories address it in the most heartbreak way possible. What is it like for normal people, who are not activist, to deal with the fact that their home is disapearing?

I could put all the quotes I underlined here, but then i'd be spoiling the book.

I urge everyone to read this collection, it gives us great insight into normal daily lives of emigrants and there are interesting concepts to be debated here.

My rating of the stories:

⇒ Her first palestinian: 3 stars ⇒ Do not write about the king: 5 stars ⇒ Cynthia: 4 stars ⇒ Body: 5 stars. ⇒ Ushanka: 5 stars. ⇒ At the benefit: 4.5 stars ⇒ Woodland: 4.5 stars ⇒ The reflected sky: 3 stars ⇒ Enjoy your life, capo: 5 stars 

[whitewhales]

The only true way to honour the dead is to work for futures that would’ve saved them.

— Saeed Teebi, You Will Not Kill Our Imagination