{"id":29168,"date":"2013-07-11T11:40:38","date_gmt":"2013-07-11T07:40:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/?p=29168"},"modified":"2013-07-11T11:40:40","modified_gmt":"2013-07-11T07:40:40","slug":"rare-interview-with-rawi-hage-im-now-free-to-be-difficult","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/middle-east-society\/rare-interview-with-rawi-hage-im-now-free-to-be-difficult\/","title":{"rendered":"Rare Interview With Rawi Hage: ‘I’m Free To Be Difficult’"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"hage\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Awards and acclaim have collected around Rawi Hage ever since he published his debut novel\u00a0in 2006. Although Hage came relatively late to novel writing, his first,\u00a0<\/i>De Niro\u2019s Game<\/i><\/a>,\u00a0won the prestigious IMPAC Dublin Literary Award. Other awards followed for his second novel,\u00a0<\/i>Cockroach<\/i><\/a>,\u00a0and his third,\u00a0<\/i>Carnival<\/i><\/a>,\u00a0which was released in the U.S. just last month.<\/i><\/p>\n

Born in Beirut, the now Canada-based Hage didn\u2019t begin his career as a novelist \u2014 he arrived at writing via photography \u2014 and English is his third language, picked up through studies and taxi driving in New York City, where he moved in 1984. But writing novels in English is clearly his calling: \u201cOnce I discovered that I can write, or I should write, I immediately knew that this is the medium I should embrace.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n

We sat down together at the 2013 Abu Dhabi International Book Fair; <\/i>this interview appears in its entirety on<\/i>\u00a0Full Stop<\/a>.<\/p>\n

ArabLit: You\u2019ve said you don\u2019t like big book events and writers\u2019 gatherings. Why are you here?<\/b><\/p>\n

Rawi Hage:<\/b> Frankly, I like traveling places and seeing other cultures. But basically, I have stage fright. Once I\u2019m on the stage, I think I relax somehow, after the first couple questions.<\/p>\n

I was never able to do it, but I admire writers like [Thomas] Pynchon who just from the beginning decided not to do interviews. Like Leonard Cohen. I admire them. I always contemplate it, but I\u2019m not done yet. Once you embark on it, it\u2019s kind of hard to track back.<\/p>\n

AL: You\u2019ve said that you grew up surrounded by books. In French and Arabic?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>In French and Arabic, yes. [They were] children\u2019s books, and that evolved to comics. French, mostly:Tintin<\/i>,\u00a0Asterix<\/i>,\u00a0Spirou<\/i>, and then \u201cLivre de poche<\/i>\u201d and lot of Arabic poetry simultaneously.<\/p>\n

AL: Did you write stories in Arabic?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:<\/b> No, I never wrote stories in Arabic. I wrote something assigned by school, but no stories. I was a bad student. I always puzzled the teachers. The comments they would say were, \u201cBright, but lazy.\u201d<\/p>\n

AL: How long did it take before you started writing in English?\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:<\/b> It was a combination of many things. When I arrived in New York, I started reading in English. It was the \u201980s, and there was nothing available in French or Arabic at the time \u2014 [it was] before the internet. So I started reading in English, and I did my studies in English. It\u2019s circumstantial; it\u2019s not a political decision on my part.<\/p>\n

AL: Do you still write in Arabic or French?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:<\/b> Only when I have to.<\/p>\n

AL: You\u2019ve said that you attribute your style in part to Arabic poetry.\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>Yes. I suspect, I don\u2019t know, I suspect that I can attribute my style to Arabic poetry. It\u2019s not a definite thing. At least I permit myself to be overtly poetical in my writing. Maybe because I grew up in a culture that values poetry more than anything. Maybe.<\/p>\n

These bursts come very spontaneous, I would say. But having said that, not all the writing is lyrical. It fluctuates to social realism sometimes, to different influences. So it\u2019s a mixture of styles.<\/p>\n

AL: In an interview with the CBC you said that you\u2019d promised yourself never to write about your life as a cab driver. Why?\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>When I was driving a cab, I promised myself not to write about that. I thought it would be kind of a clich\u00e9. I thought it was done.<\/p>\n

AL: You wrote about it in\u00a0Carnival<\/i>. What changed your mind?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:<\/b> It\u2019s when I realized I can use it in a metaphorical way, taxi driving, and I slowly got sucked in. And it\u2019s not just about taxi driving. Basically it\u2019s about a carnival. And the taxi was a vehicle to pick up many characters. That movement, that circulation of the taxi driver, and this ephemerality, one passenger after the other, made the book like a series of vignettes.<\/p>\n

AL: Did you write it straight through, or did you write the vignettes separately?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>The way I write is I\u2019m a bit bipolar in my writing habits. I write intensely for a few months and then I take a rest for a few months. Then I come back to it.<\/p>\n

AL: So when you write, you write for hours and hours a day?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>Yeah, intensely for three months. Very intensely. And I kind of get away from everything \u2014internet, alcohol. It\u2019s kind of regimented, but it\u2019s also solitary. I get in touch with my inner madness.<\/p>\n

AL: Did you plan\u00a0Carnival<\/i>, for instance, before you went in?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>I usually start my novel with an image or some vague idea of what the novel\u2019s about.\u00a0 I\u2019m not conceptual in my writing. I don\u2019t do research. Not much of it is thematic. I don\u2019t follow these methods. . . . I follow the story, but I brood on it for a while, too. I believe in thinking as well. I\u2019m a bit Socratic in that sense.<\/p>\n

AL: How long did\u00a0Carnival<\/i>\u00a0take you?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>From the time I started writing it to the time was published, it took about four years. But the actual writing time is much less. It\u2019s probably like a year.<\/p>\n

AL: In\u00a0<\/b>McSweeney\u2019s 42<\/i><\/b><\/a>, you did a beautiful job translating \u201cFour Seasons and a Summer\u201d by Youssef Habchi El-Achkar. But the translations of your translation were a bit unfortunate; it was as though it could be any \u201cMiddle Eastern\u201d conflict, anywhere.<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>Yes, it wasn\u2019t put in context. But he\u2019s that sort of writer, an experimental writer. And he never denied his European and Japanese influence. It was that period when [Lebanese] literature was open to other influences. He was an existentialist writer.<\/p>\n

AL: And did you feel some sort of kinship? Is that why you chose him?\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>Very much. I never read him before, I\u2019d heard about him, but when I read him, I felt like I\u2019m some kind of reincarnation of this guy. I felt an affiliation with him on many levels. He\u2019s somebody who\u2019s open to Western culture, and sees some value in Western culture. And also he comes from exactly the same background \u2014 [we are both] minorities in the Arab world.<\/p>\n

AL: You\u2019ve said that he\u2019s perceived as a marginal writer.<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>He was a writer\u2019s writer, all the writers read him. It was kind of a tragic thing, because all the Arab writers read him, but he didn\u2019t get his place in the Arab world. And also, he left Beirut and lived in a village. Just by doing that, he was also perceived as being provincial. But I don\u2019t think he was.<\/p>\n

AL: Do you also feel marginalized?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:<\/b> No, I\u2019m not. I can\u2019t claim to be, as much as I would like to be. But I think my books are getting less commercial, maybe even less accessible.<\/p>\n

AL: Do you think you have a freedom to do that, now that your name is established?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>Yes, I do. I\u2019m not undermining the merit [of any of the works], but yes, I do.<\/p>\n

AL: Are you working on a project now?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>No, I\u2019m not, actually. I\u2019m just touring. I\u2019m brooding, I\u2019m thinking of something. I think I write my books before I put them on pages, so I\u2019m writing without touching devices.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not rational, as much as sentimental. I have to be in this frame of mind where I\u2019m feeling pity for myself, and feeling pity for the world. Once I\u2019ve attained the summit of this, then I have to sit down and write. With a vague subject, you know.<\/p>\n

AL: Would you ever consider translating?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:<\/b> No.<\/p>\n

AL: Why not?\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:\u00a0<\/b>It\u2019s very laborious. I\u2019m lazy. I\u2019m not studious. I can\u2019t focus for a long time unless I have a real passion for the work.<\/p>\n

AL: If you were going to, is there anybody whose work you\u2019d want to translate?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:<\/b> I would translate from Arabic, actually. There was some kind of tent of experimentation, especially in Lebanon, in a certain period before the war.<\/p>\n

I envy that era during the 1960s up to the civil war. There was some kind of revival and a very progressive community that formed in Lebanon, mostly around the AUB area around Ras Beirut. I hear from my uncles \u2014 one of them was a journalist and a novelist, and the other a novelist and a poet \u2014 and I hear their stories. And I think they attempt something.\u00a0 It was the end of the\u00a0nahda\u00a0<\/i>(\u201crenaissance\u201d). They formed movements, actually. I think they did.<\/p>\n

It was very political. But I would be tempted to go back, and maybe gather a few texts to translate, but that\u2019s it.<\/p>\n

AL:\u00a0Any particular author?<\/b><\/p>\n

RH:<\/b> I think there\u2019s Elias al-Diri, who attempts something. And Youssef Habchi El-Achkar. I\u2019m more interested in the era [as a whole] \u2014 it\u2019s a romantic notion of mine.<\/p>\n

Keep reading the interview at\u00a0<\/i>Full Stop>>.<\/b><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

M. LYNX-QUALEY: He came to writing late and he writes in his third language but Rawi Hage has developed a compelling, distinctive voice <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":16,"featured_media":29172,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[53,5],"tags":[17600,114,17597,16573,18291,17599,17598],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29168"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/16"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=29168"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29168\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":29175,"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29168\/revisions\/29175"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/29172"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=29168"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=29168"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mideastposts.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=29168"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}