A godly tree
The Tree of Arabic Literature, Arabic Literature, An Overview, Pierre Cachia, London: Routledge Curzon, 2002. pp194
Books about Arabic literature, be it for the student or the general reader, are thin on the ground. The first, Nicholson's Literary History of the Arabs, was published nearly a hundred years ago but is still a useful reference book. The latest, by Pierre Cachia, who had his early education in Egypt and later lectured at the American University in Cairo, then at the Universities of Edinburgh and Columbia, is, despite its modest length, crammed with information in a very readable form and deals with areas not covered by Nicholson, such as the modern movement in fiction, as well as popular folk literature, which has up till now been neglected by both Arab scholars and Arabists.
The writer seeks to give his book some sort of form by quoting a passage of the Qur'an on the title page: '...like a godly tree, firm its roots, and its branches up in the sky'. This allows him to give such titles as 'the bifurcation', 'the Iberian branch', 'the stunting' and 'the grafting' to his chapters, and thus the whole tree of Arabic literature is appropriately divided up and described.
The first chapter, entitled 'the root', naturally deals with poetry, the oldest and most esteemed form of writing among the Arabs. As the writer says 'the Arabs have inherited from pre-Islamic times an imposing body of robust poetry that has set the standard for successive centuries.' He goes on to describe the prescribed set patterns for this early poetry and provides translations of extracts from early poems, showing their concern with tribal solidarity and warlike deeds, but also their deep and sympathetic understanding of the environment in which they lived. The theme of love is present in many of these poems, and Cachia gives a translation of the lines in Imru' l- Qays famous qasida where he boasts of his sexual encounter with a young mother in a howdah on the back of a camel. Cachia ends this chapter by dealing with the highly contentious suggestion, made by several modern scholars, notably Taha Hussein, that much of this pre-Islamic poetry was fabricated at a later date, though he rightly argues that the corpus handed down is 'too substantial and too self-consistent to be globally discredited'. He does, however, point out that the total absence of 'religious loyalty' is a matter for questioning.
In later chapters the writer deals with such poets as al-Mutanabbi, Abu Nuwas and Abu 'l-'Ala al- Ma'arri. From all these poets he translates -- with commendable sensitivity -- extracts that show them to be, by any standards, among the very greatest Arab poets, even though Abu Nuwas made no bones about his preference for young boys over girls and al-Ma'arri expressed views that have not pleased those with orthodox religious views. The writer sums up, with succinct insight, al-Ma'arri work as being 'a monumental example of the triumph of individuality in a world of convention'. He also deals with Sufi poetry, most particularly with the work of its most well-known exponent, Ibn al-Farid. But, as throughout the book, Cachia makes mention of lesser known but equally interesting figures, in this case the Egyptian mystic al-Niffari.
An aspect of Arabic literature which is either ignored or given but a passing reference by most scholars and critics is that body of work that has been composed in the vernacular. It is, however, a subject on which the writer of this book is clearly both interested and well-informed. Thus in an early chapter he explains how, in Andalusia, 'a small breach' was made in 'the fortified walls of classicism', this through the form of poetry known as 'muwashshah', which itself derived from the 'zajal', a type of folk poetry in the vernacular. 'Zajal', i.e. poetry in the vernacular, has in fact continued to have its skilled practitioners up to the present day, particularly in Egypt with such names as Bairam al-Tunisi and Ahmad Fu'ad Najm. In this context I was surprised to read that no less a poet than Ahmad Shawqi wrote 'zajals' but that these were relegated, in the nine-volume edition of his complete works, to the end of the last volume.
The whole question of the rivalry between the classical and the vernacular, and the possibility that the latter might be effectively used as a vehicle for serious artistic composition, is fully discussed in several places in the book, though the final judgement is that the vernacular will be restricted to being employed in writing for the theatre, as well as in the dialogue of narrative fiction; apart from this the colloquial is unlikely to make further inroads into the stronghold of the classical language. However, I was surprised to find Cachia stating that Mahmoud Teymour, known as the pioneer writer of the Arabic short story, believed that the vernacular was certain to become the standard literary medium. I am surprised because I recollect Teymour once telling me in the late 1940s that, provided God gave us the necessary years of life, we would in 50 years time find all Egyptians speaking the classical language. It seems that Teymour's predictions, both to me and to the writer of this book, were equally off-target!
In the final long chapter which he entitles 'the Grafting', Cachia tells the story of the Arab world's cultural contacts with the West and the ways in which this affected its literature and by which 'fictional narratives entered the literary canon'. The gradual process, starting with a movement of translation from French and English, in time threw up a handful of writers of original talent. The early products of modern Arabic literature are presented as being the work mainly of such Egyptian writers as Taha Hussein, the playwright Tewfik al-Hakim, Yahya Hakki, the short story writer Yusuf Idris and of course Naguib Mahfouz.
Among non-Egyptian writers attention is given to Tayeb Salih and the Palestinians Jabra Ibrahim Jabra and Ghassan Kanafani. When dealing with the modern movement in poetry he gives pride of place to the Iraqi al-Sayyab, Nizar Qabbani and Adonis (whom he describes as being 'highly innovative and subtle to the point of obscurity').
Once again, it is when dealing with the less trodden path of folk literature that Cachia is most entertaining and perceptive. Also, some of his general remarks about the present state of literary creativity are pertinent, as for instance his observation that, for Arabs, literature is not primarily for mere entertainment, and he points out that, for instance, no writer of detective novels has made his appearance, though the genre is known in translation.
The publishers describe the present book as being for the first year student of Arabic and for 'the inquisitive general reader'. While I found the book both useful as a work of reference and easily readable in the manner in which it presents its considerable weight of scholarly information and argument, I also couldn't help feeling that it would be hard-going for any reader who didn't already possess some background knowledge.
One major strike against -- and an indication that its publishers recognise the limited audience for which it has been written -- is its exorbitant price: no less than 338 Egyptian pounds!
Reviewed by Denys Johnson-Davies
