الهوس بالنظرة: وجوه شيماء عزيز

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الوجوه التي تطالعني، الوجوه التي تتبعني: ليست نفس الوجوه.

وجوه لا أعرفها، وجوه يؤرقني حضورها.

“وأن تأخذني معك في مركبك، وأن تجعلني قيماً على أسفارك.”

أي سفر قطعته وجوهكم على هذه اللوحات الخشبية، لكي تنالوا مني هذا الصباح؟

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استمر في القراءة

Two Extracts from “Paulo” (The Crocodiles II), Translated by Robin Moger

A Kid Came to Me

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A kid they marked up down at the Qasr Al Nil police station came to complain to me. (This was what was going on back then, with the April 6th Youth Movement and Kifaya and all of that stuff; and the Brotherhood, too, they were getting it together on the sly, even though, bit by bit, they were starting to get it in the neck: cunts.) A sweet kid and a sissy, a guy could get a hard-on just sitting next to him, who’d been working with me for a while and whose name was Ashraf Bayoumi. They marked him up and he came to my house. The minute I saw him I spat and turned my back. On the 4th of April I’d sent him along to a tiny demonstration whose purpose he didn’t know in Talaat Harb Square, and he was supposed to have reported back to me the same day. He bent and wiped my spittle from the doorstep with his sleeve then threw himself at me smearing his mouth against my brow. Just hear me out, he said. Then he followed me inside and asked for a glass of water.

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“Egypt before the Revolution”: Per Munther’s Leica

Cairo, 15 January 1850

[…] Here we are then, in Egypt, the land of the Pharoahs, the land of the Ptolemies, the kingdom of Cleopatra (as they say in the grand style). Here we are, and here we abide, with our heads shaven as clean as your knee, smoking long pipes and drinking our coffee lying on divans. What can I say? How can I write to you about it? I have scarcely recovered from my initial astonishment.

 

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Cover Art for FLICK, the Cairo International Film Festival 2014 Bulletin, Issues #1-10

Backgammon in the Ruins of an Old Palace of Saddam Hussein’s: Bezav Mahmod and the Image of Kurdistan

Once, long ago, my mother fled a genocide (the Al Anfal campaign). She fled on foot over massive Kurdish mountains carrying me on her back and my little brother in her stomach.

My grandparents, Kurdish villagers/farmers, were faced with brutal oppression. They were forced into the Kurdish struggle, taking up arms to resist the annihilation of their identity. For 50 years they lived with war and the struggle of the Kurds. My grandfather Selman Mahmod Bamernî became a peshmerga at an early age. He was involved in many bloody battles and lost many comrades in the process. He was seriously injured twice, and twice placed in Iraqi prisons. He was often separated from his family, once for over five years, so long that, when he came back, his youngest children did not recognize their own father. He has devoted his life to the Kurdish struggle. A humble person with honor, compassion and an absolutely wonderful sense of humor. He has made many laugh heartily in his day.

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وللمرة الألف، يرفض الطريق طلب الصداقة: قصيدة جديدة لإسلام حنيش

yrakha2

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كم صار صعباً، كم صار صعباً كل شيء

كان السكين حاداً جداً هذه المرة.

كان لابد أن أنتبه أني أقشر يدك الصغيرة

بدلًا من البرتقال.

استمر في القراءة

Back to the Future: The Golden Age of Egyptian Cinema

Cairo International Film Festival Essay

The Black Sunglasses, 1963

The Black Sunglasses, 1963

The golden age of Egyptian cinema survived the fall of the monarchy, the departure of the British, the nationalization of the Suez Canal, and three wars with Israel — but not Cold War-era capitalism.

“Golden age” in this context is of course an amorphous term, but it does point to a palpable phenomenon which, in the form of roll film, remains testable for efficacy. Over roughly three decades from the beginning of 1940s to the end of the 1960s, a certain balance of quantity and quality was maintained. Art remained a meaningful business proposition even after capital was monopolized by the state and a centralized economy established.

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