This is a great introduction to modern Arabic prose, although it might be a bit too brief. Poetry and drama are included in this book, but they’re usually only given a few paragraphs in any given chapter. The bulk of the text is on novels produced in the Arabic language, with some coverage of short stories.

The book is divided into chapters that make a great deal of sense: Arabic language book publication and the state of the field + material on the state of translation, the emergence of “modernity” in the Arab world and the coming of modern literature (especially after the Nahda), the development of the Arabic novel, Palestinian literature, disillusionment, and contemporary literature.

The country most heavily referenced in this book is, by far, Egypt. As Tresilian restates multiple times through the book, “Cairo writes, Beirut publishes, and Baghdad reads.” The second most heavily referenced country is Palestine, which I was pleased to see. The chapter on Palestinian literature was especially enlightening, and the country has punched far above its weight in terms of literary output. Much more than, say, writings by Jordanian authors or even those of the Arabian Peninsula.

There’s a really interesting discussion in here of Arabic literature in translation. Whenever I go to bookshops, it’s plainly apparent to me how much Arabic literature is published, but so little of it makes it into English, let alone any other European language. This is a shame, given that Arabic literature is really good. Tresilian identifies a few reasons for this: largely, few works are (1) approachable enough for those who aren’t really familiar with Arab culture, and (2) the the Anglophone reading public, for example, has very different tastes than Arab reading publics. Arabic literature, even until today, leans more into hard realism–maybe something like George Eliot’s Middlemarch is the closest example. But, this is still not quite right: the authors of today are so much more than “Arab Dickens,” “Arab Eliot,” or “Arab Flaubert.” Anglophone reading publics tend to prefer much more pulp: romantic novels, speculative fiction (of which fantasy, in particular, seems to be having its moment), and “Instagrammable” materials. Arabic literature is usually quite far away from that.

Moreover, when Arab writers write in Arabic, they write to their own audience: Anglophone reading publics are happy to read Arabic works in translation, but so often they have to somehow fit orientalist tropes. This is why Arabic women’s writing, in particular, tends to get so much attention–they fit the narrative of the oppressive Arab man vs. the liberated Arab woman. While patriarchy certainly exists and can be particularly oppressive, it is not the whole story. These narratives give single-dimensional views on both men and women, and they always don’t exactly fit reality.

It’s a serious shame, and a form of poverty, that Arabic literature is not more widely read in the West. It is powerful and speaks to universal concerns, more often than not. Moreover, it is often–although not always–politically engaged. It just so happens that the political engagement is not what Western readers expect.

Tresilian does a fine job of distilling these points in such a short text. It’s very much worth the read for those who are curious.