In 1986, a book written in an exceptionally rich Hebrew by a Palestinian Arab made a huge impact on the literary as well as the political landscapes in Israel. “Arabesques” by Anton Shammas mostly deals with the history of his family and the village he grew up in, located in northern Israel, yet also delves into other geographies while toggling between past and present and hints of the future. It is written in a superb storytelling technique that makes it a delight to read despite the occasional challenges, all along introducing the Palestinian narrative to readers in a way that is still relevant to this day.
I was first introduced to Shammas’s writing while living in Tel-Aviv during the mid 1980s where the local weekly would print some of his commentaries every now and then. He came across as a different type of an “Israeli Arab,” a term used to this day for people of Palestinian origin who resided in pre-1967 Israel and also hold Israeli citizenship. Shammas was not a token politician in a mainstream party nor an apolitical soccer star. His was an articulate, loud and clear voice that many, myself included, were not sure what to make of at the time.
Those were the days after Israel invaded Lebanon in 1982, another war meant to deny Palestinian identity despite being fought on a foreign turf. It was also the first war that made many Israelis question its necessity, let alone the way it was handled by the government. Yet there was also a sense that, if only we talk to each other directly, we can reach an agreement.
“Beyond the Walls,” a movie released two years prior to “Arabesques,” depicted Israeli and Palestinian prisoners uniting against the corrupt, manipulative jail management. It was a huge success at home and one of the very first Israeli films ever to be nominated for the Academy Awards in the Best Foreign Language Film category.
“Arabesques” was one of the first Palestinian accounts ever to be accepted by mainstream Israelis. Ironically, that process may have been accelerated during the first Intifada, or popular uprising, of the late 1980s. Despite the initial hardship and challenges, many realized that Palestinians deserve dignity and statehood like anyone else, leading to the Oslo Accords in the early 1990s.
Shammas’ rich, eloquent and often comic descriptions of family ties, life in the village and elsewhere, different types of food, abundant wilderness and rich history form a cohesive testimony to the depth of Palestinian identity and how it was shaped over the years. To his credit, he does not romanticize Palestinian lives prior to Israeli rule. His vivid storytelling does not spare the hardship, intrigues and in some cases cruelty and abuse the villagers inflict on each other. He is also capable of telling the same story from different perspectives, channeling different voices while using their own words.
His use of the Hebrew language in the original version is a delight, often incorporating seldom used words and in some cases inventing new ones. Shammas is also extremely immersed in Israeli culture and can take a common phrase used exclusively by Israeli Jews and turn its meaning upside down to deliver a twisted, sophisticated punchline in a seamless manner. With all that taken into consideration, I still hold “Arabesques” to be one of the very best books ever written in modern Hebrew, same as I did when I first read it.
I was worried that some of that would be lost once the English translation came out in 1988, and indeed the translator Vivian Eden, who did a great job, acknowledged she acted “with the aim of rendering accessible to readers of English a story originally told in a very allusive and layered kind of Hebrew with equally complex Arabic resonance, especially in the rhythm section” on the very first page. While some loss is almost inevitable in the process of any translation, I’m glad to report that the spirit of the book is still very much intact despite the many challenges.
The writing style is hard to pin down. A tale of family history as a reflection on world events may bring to mind Gunther Grass’ “The Tin Drum” or Salman Rushdie’s “Midnight’s Children.” Yet here we also have a hefty dose of García Márquez’s fantastic realism and an abundance of Joseph Heller’s sarcasm, all perfectly woven into a unique masterpiece of its own.
If ever adapted to the big screen, I would imagine “Arabesques” the film to be in the style of Wim Wenders — always on the go — combined with Alain Resnais’ going back and forth in time.
But don’t compromise on waiting for an adaptation, as if there will ever be one. “Arabesques” is as relevant today as it was when it was first published. Reading it again for the fifth time or so to write this review generated the same reactions I had when I read it first: laughing, crying, attempting to cook some of the mentioned dishes and finding a hope that art can promote understanding and bring us closer.
Ra’anan David grew up in Israel and has been residing in Seattle for the past 35 years.
Read more of the Feb. 21–27, 2024 issue.