Author of “I Remember Fallujah” by Furat Al-Ani: Identity is a branched tree and literature is a recording of memory | culture

Paris – Last November, the Iraqi-French novelist Furat Al-Ani won the 2023 Prize for Arabic Literature, from the Jean-Luc Lagardère Foundation and the Arab World Institute in Paris, for his novel “I Remember Fallujah.”

The novel “I Remember Fallujah” deals with the issue of identity through a monodramatic dialogue between a father and his son, through a memory game and a camouflaged and deceptive narrative technique that mixes the past and the present, and between fictional storytelling and autobiography.

In an almost fictional translation of the French poet Ronnie Char’s saying, “We only inhabit the places we leave,” the writer Furat Al-Ani digs into the memory of places and the history of Iraq in the 1970s, through his hero Ahmed Rami, who continues to long for his first city, Fallujah, and searches for his origins and identity despite… The three decades he lived in French exile, while his son embodies the state of alienation of the new Arab generations born in exile.

Writer and journalist Furat Al-Ani was born in Paris in 1980 to Iraqi parents, and the novel “I Remember Fallujah” is the second to his credit after his first novel, “The Perfume of Iraq,” which won the Albert Laundry Prize in 2019.

In this interview with Al Jazeera Net, Al-Ani talked about the reasons behind his winning the Arab Literature Award, and delved into the details of his writing of the novel “I Remember Fallujah,” which he said “goes beyond imagination.” He explained the reasons for his special obsession with memory in his writings and his constant digging into the history of Iraq. He also explained the reasons for He was greatly influenced by the book “Fatal Identities” by Amin Maalouf, and he revealed the theme and atmosphere of his next novel, whose events take place between Iraq and the former Soviet Union. So on to the dialogue:

• How did you accept that your novel “I Remember Fallujah” won the 2023 Arab Literature Prize, from the Jean-Luc Lagardère Foundation and the Arab World Institute in Paris?

I was very happy when I learned that I had won this prestigious award for several reasons. Firstly because it represents a beautiful literary dedication, and secondly because my father took me to it for the first time Arab World Institute When I was a teenager, I have wonderful memories of discovering Arabic literary culture.

Receiving this award in this place moved me and made me think of the first time I set foot in the Arab World Institute in Paris.

• What is the addition of such prestigious French awards and their contribution to encouraging the publication of Arabic literature in the French language?

This award highlights the works of writers from the Arab world or those who write and address issues and topics about Arab countries. It is a great way to introduce readers to the rich culture of the Arab world, but it is also a showcase of this vast literature. It is very important, like any other culture, to include the Arab world in the body of contemporary writings.

• The novel “I Remember Fallujah” deals with the issue of identity through a monodramatic dialogue between a father and his son, through a game of memory and a camouflaged narrative technique that mixes the past and the present. Is it the subject that imposed this deceptive artistic structure, or is the opposite true?

both of them. Because one feeds on the other. For me, using this artistic structure was obvious because I deal with memory and the past.

To do this, it seemed logical to me to bring the pasts of the two main characters together, like a distorted mirror of two realities that are both close and distant at the same time. A discussion between a person with amnesia and another who feels nostalgic for the past is a way to reconstruct the reality of your dreams, through the big question of identity.

• The novel’s hero, Ahmed Rami, remained searching for his identity despite the three decades he lived in French exile, and the same applies to his son who was born in exile. Does this reflect the physical and spiritual alienation and the search for identity that you and your generation and the Arab generations born in exile are experiencing? What are the motivations and reasons that made you choose the topic of identity as the main theme of your novel “I Remember Fallujah”?

In this novel, Ahmed Rami tries to reconnect with his past through his son, which made this son search for himself and ask questions. But Rami finds it difficult to talk about this past because of the traumas associated with his childhood and also because of the difficulty he faced there in Iraq as a political activist facing an authoritarian regime that persecuted opponents.

Exiles take everything with them, joys and misfortunes, so it becomes difficult for the generation born in exile to build itself without reconnecting with its origins. Alienation is liberated through the search for oneself, and this passes through identity in my opinion.

Exiles take everything with them, joys and misfortunes, so it becomes difficult for the generation born in exile to build itself without reconnecting with its origins. For my part, Iraq does not have any colonial past with France, so it was more difficult. I didn’t have any reference points. The other immigrants around me came from other places and could at least share a common history. For Iraqis in France, it was almost impossible.

Alienation is liberated through the search for oneself, and this passes through identity in my opinion. That is why I insisted on this particular topic in my novel, “I Remember Fallujah.”

• How do you define identity and how do you live it, you who were born in French exile to Iraqi parents?

Identity is not a name, nor a country of origin, nor a country of birth, it is all of these things, and it is what we create and live later. The narrator brings up this famous “invisible bag” that every traveler carries, for me this is identity. We proceed by opening our bag, closing it, filling it, and emptying it.

Identity is mobile, not fixed. We can decide what to be. While we are curious about our origins, we can also do without them. It’s a special case. For my part, I believe that roots are important for building the future, because identity is a tree with many branches.

It (identity) is mobile, not fixed. We can decide what to be. While we are curious about our origins, we can also do without them. It’s a special case. For my part, I believe that roots are important for building the future, because identity is a tree with many branches.

• Is your novel “I Remember Fallujah” considered a narrative translation of Amin Maalouf’s intellectual book “Deadly Identities,” which looks at the conflict of multiple identities imposed by globalization and society, and the attempt to resettle them through imaginative narration and the game of memory? Where does individual identity begin and where does collective human identity end?

It’s funny that Amin Maalouf’s book “Fatal Identities” is a foundational book in my research on identity. This book left its mark on me and helped me understand many things. The beginning of the dual culture is not 50% for the first and 50% for the second. It is much more complicated than that because the issue is not a matter of numbers or the distribution of blood and belonging. It is, above all, an experience. I did not write this novel as an interpretation of that reference book, but it clearly gave me a starting point for understanding identity in my own life. Identity has no definition of its own. It is something unique for everyone, and I am convinced of that today.

• Your novel “I Remember Fallujah” summarizes the beautiful saying of the French poet Ronnie Char, “We only inhabit the places we leave.” How do you deal with the memory of places in your narrative writings? To what extent is this memory a catalyst for writing and creativity? Do you have places or cities that excite you more than others to write?

This is an excellent question. I give great importance to places in my writing and life. I feel so nostalgic for places that I sometimes go on a nostalgic pilgrimage, going back to places from my childhood, and this inspires me a lot and helps me rewrite things.

As a journalist and writer, I cannot imagine writing about a place, known or unknown, without going back and forth, inspired. The real physical place is no less important than the fictional location of the novel. I cannot write without the impact and influence of the place.

As for the relationship of place to writing, yes, I have certain cities and countries that inspire me more than others, in France and elsewhere in the world. Sometimes I isolate myself and need complete silence in these places to write. Other times I need noisy and lively places like cafes. I think it depends on the intentions and topics I am thinking of writing.

I wrote a novel, imagined the places, and invented the names, but clearly I retained a lot of reality in I Remember Fallujah. Imagination is always inspired by reality.

• I embodied the character of the narrator, the son of the hero, Ahmed Rami, in a direct and deliberate artistic marriage between imaginative narration and autobiographical narration. What are the reasons for this artistic trend? Where does the objective begin and where does the subjective end in your novel “I Remember Fallujah?” And to what extent can the writer and creator in general get rid of his personality, self, and the details of his life in his writings and creative works?

I wrote a novel, imagined the places, and invented the names, but clearly I retained a lot of reality in I Remember Fallujah. Imagination is always inspired by reality. For my part, I think there is autobiographical inspiration but there is also a large part of fiction that I don’t necessarily want to reveal, because one feeds into the other.

The goal in this novel was also to answer questions that I did not have answers to. When my father died, I felt an urgent need to explore this fantasy, to honor him but also to fulfill the child’s unresolved requests and desires, and especially to be at peace with my own story.

• The history of Iraq is heavily present in your novels “I Remember Fallujah” and “The Perfume of Iraq,” and even Iraq, Fallujah, and other cities turn into characters themselves in the novel. What are your content and artistic messages through your use of this artistic trick?

This is true, because my characters are not just human characters, and because I imagine everything as characters. Baghdad, Fallujah, Iraq, they are all characters, but also amnesia, shame, anger and silence are fictional characters. I like to take readers on the plane of imagination, hold their hands, and take them into the depths of myself, because I believe that everything passes through sensations: smells, details, the color of the sky, the position of the characters, etc.

In fact, I want to be as close to the accuracy of the positions as possible, but without always providing too many details. Sometimes, all it takes is a simple sentence to spark something complex.

• Your first novel, “The Perfume of Iraq,” is based on the game of remembrance and memory, and exploring the history of Iraq narratively, such as the novel “I Remember Fallujah.” What are the reasons for this artistic trend, and will you continue it in your next novel?

Yes, I have a particular obsession with memory. I wouldn’t necessarily work on just this topic, but it’s close to my heart. Memory is memories, the past, history, travel, the relationship between parent and child, all of this interests me greatly. I happen to have a good memory and remember every detail. Here my graphic novel, “The Perfume of Iraq,” was born. It is not a novel in the classical sense, but rather a simple chronology of my memories in Iraq since childhood. As for the novel, “I Remember Fallujah,” it goes beyond imagination.

• Tell us about your next fictional work. Will it be in the same climates of memory, identity, and history of Iraq, or will it completely change the compass towards other worlds?

I’ve started writing my next novel. Iraq will certainly be present, but not only that, as the story will also move to the former Soviet Union. It is another family investigation, but more from the mother’s side.

The main story is based on an important Iraqi character, an Iraqi pilot, one of the best fighter pilots in the 1960s, who is sent to Russia to train on a Soviet plane. It is a story shrouded in mystery and secrecy as well. It will travel us first to Iraq in the 1960s, then to the former Soviet Union, and the events will extend to the present day. I don’t want to reveal more details of this story, but I am very interested in family legends.

• Is there a project to translate the novel “I Remember Fallujah” from French into the language of Dhad and localize it in its main original Arab culture, which was the subject of its events?

I have a literary agent who handles foreign rights. At the moment, we have signed on to translate the novel into English, and I hope that this will open the way for other translations, especially Arabic. I would be happy to see this novel written by an Iraqi-French young man translated in the Arab world.

Literature for me is extending the life of words and memory, through the games of writing and reading.

• Fernando Pessoa says, “Literature is the proof that life is not enough.” How do you define literature and writing and how do you live them?

This is a very beautiful saying that I find myself using. But I also believe that literature works to record memory in time.

Literature allows us to say what we have never said before. Sometimes we cannot talk about everything, for example expressing through our voices difficult things or even beautiful things. Writing helps create this bridge.

Literature for me is extending the life of words and memory, through the games of writing and reading.