The deadline (end December 2009) for submitting paper proposals for the MELCOM conference in Cordoba, Spain, in April 2010 is fast approaching.
Further details about the conference’s themes & instructions for where to send abstracts can be found here:
http://www.sant.ox.ac.uk/ext/melcomintl/melconfCordob10.shtml
A team of archaeologists from UCLA, USC, Israel and Palestinian territories has developed the first map detailing Israeli archaeological activity in the West Bank and Jerusalem – much of it never publicly disclosed.
“The fully searchable online map, which serves as a window into thousands of years worth of archaeological sites in the Holy Lands, has won the 2009 Open Archaeology Prize from American Schools of Oriental Research, the main organization for archaeologists working in the Middle East.”
Between Revolution and State: the Path to Fatimid Statehood: Qadi al-Nuʿman and the Construction of Fatimid Legitimacy. Ismaili Heritage Series, 11. By Sumaiya A. Hamdani. London; New York: I. B. Tauris Publishers in association with the Institute of Ismaili Studies, 2006. Pp. xxvi, 210, including bibliographical references and index. $45.00 (hardback). ISBN: 9781850438823.
The dust jacket states that this work examines the most important works of al-Qāḍī al-Nuʿmān, an influential Islamic theologian and jurist under the Fatimids. The introduction states that the author will examine the significance of the Fatimid revolution and state during its own time, based on already known sources. The work goes on to describe how the Fatimids separated from other Shiʿite sects and expanded into North Africa. It also summarizes descriptions of the Fatimids from a variety of works written in the tenth century C.E., discusses the Fatimid religious policy, sessions, and public ceremonies intended to garner support from the variety of Islamic sects under their rule, and discusses the place of the Fatimid imams within Fatimid society.
The material discussed in Between Revolution and State is weighted more towards the general than towards an analysis of al-Qāḍī al-Nuʿmān’s works. Each chapter provides a general summary to set some aspect of the Fatimid state in relation to the rest of the Islamic world. The rest of each chapter summarizes some content from one of al-Qāḍī al-Nuʿmān’s works. The general summaries do not fully identify all the individuals mentioned in them, nor do they spell out background information in detail. This information is considerably more specialized than what is taught in introductory courses on the Middle East. Many undergraduates will not be prepared to fill in the background for themselves. Each chapter also has some discussion of al-Nuʿmān’s works. However, the works are not quoted and their overall structure is not described. Only some important points are presented. This method does not provide enough information about the works for graduate level work. On the positive side, Between Revolution and State is carefully footnoted and has an index. The bibliography includes the full range of well-known scholars on the Fatimids and Shiʿism. Unfortunately, the only diacritics used are alif and ʿayn.
This book should not be a high priority purchase. Although it does present some new material, it is a little too complex for many undergraduates and at the same time too general for advanced work.
Mary St. Germain
University of Washington Libraries
Rembetika: Aşk, Gurbet, Hapis ve Tekke Şarkıları (Songs of love, exile, prison and hash dens). Istanbul/Athens/New York 78 rpm recordings (1926–1954). By Kollektif. £11.99/€17.63 (audio CD and booklet).
Having launched Rembetika 1 and 2, produced by Muammer Ketencioğlu, Kalan Music collected, with the production of Stelyo Berber and Pelin Suer, 78 rpm disks which were recorded under the name of “Rembetika” between 1926 and 1954 in Istanbul, Athens, and New York. The album includes love, exile, prison, and lodge songs. The album’s name, “Rembetika,” means rembetika songs which is the plural form of a musical style called rembetiko. From an etymological view, “rembetiko” music is supposed to have been derived from “rebenoc” in the Slav language: young person; “rembelos,” in Italian: reformist; “rembome” (verb) in Greek: to roam. This musical style was predominantly common between 1850 and 1950, especially where the Greek diaspora lived, mainly in Izmir, Istanbul, Thessaloniki, and Athens.
In 1922 during the Turkish Independence War, about 1 million Anatolian Greeks moved to Greece as a result of the Turkish victory over Greece, many of them taking refuge in bad neighborhoods in the port of Piraeus. Rembetika can be described as the songs in which the Greeks who had to leave Turkey in consequence of this war, called the Asia Minor Disaster, blended Aegean and Istanbul songs with Greek music. Mentioning the feeling of homesickness, longing for homeland, and memories, these songs have a lyrical atmosphere. These victims of compulsory immigration were looked down on, insulted by being called “Greek non-Muslim” on the Turkish side and “Turkish seed” on the Greek side, had to suffer poverty, and were in the position of “the other.”
Rembetiko basically comes from two traditions. The first is the Izmir style (smyrneika), a more joyful rembetiko; the second is the Piraeus type, which is lodge style. These two styles came together in Piraeus after the war. The origins of rembetiko are claimed to be related to prison songs. Known as the music of bullies, drug addicts, and prison aghas, rembetiko was able to enter into the entertainment places of the middle class and gain popularity thanks to artists like Vassilis Tsitsanis and Theodorakis. In the 1920s Greek musicians who had had to immigrate to Greece as a result of the war brought the Izmir style in rembetiko (smyrneika) to Athens, Thessaloniki, and Piraeus, together with such instruments as the violin, kemence, ud, kanun, and satur; and in 1932 the Piraeus style, which is composed of bouzouki, bağlama, and guitar, began to develop. Immigrants opened their own Cafe Amans and thus rembetiko got past the limits of prisons and lodges and started to voice the feelings of larger social environments.
Sold together with a comprehensive booklet, the album under review mostly includes songs which are still sung in Turkey even though they have different lyrics today. The songs are played with the various combinations of such instruments as kanun, kemence, ud, violin, clarinet, bouzouki, bağlama, mandolin, zil, kaşık, piano, and guitar. They are mostly in 9/4 or 9/8 rhythm, which is the basis of Aegean zeybek, a folk dance named after Aegean zeybeks and improvised by one person.
[This review has been edited for length; the full review may be read in MELA Notes no. 82, which will be posted soon on the MELA Notes webpage.] Zeynep Gülçın Özkişi
Yıldız Technical University
A number of excellent Iranian films have been released in the past year or so. The best of this very fine bunch is Offside by Jafar Panahi. It tells the story of a group of girls who in violation of the law try to get into Tehran stadium to see Iran’s soccer team compete in the World Cup. Next is Men at Work, a film by Mani Haqiqi. The subject of the film as it is described on the container is “The story of four ordinary guys and one big rock.” The political allegory contained in the film’s simple plot is striking, but does not overshadow the comedy and action of the plot. Director Tahmineh Milani is known for her didactic films about the status of women in Iran, such as The Hidden Half. In her latest film, Ceasefire, she decided to focus on the lighter side of the war between the sexes, and her message comes across all the more clearly in this light romantic and comedic guise.
The next film, called Twilight, is by Hasan Hedayat. It is a somber and wintry meditation on death and aging, starring the great Ezzatollah Entezami. This film is a small masterpiece. An odd but compelling film by Mohammad Rasoulaf is Iron Island. It chronicles the lives of the destitute inhabitants of a derelict freighter, and the sometimes tyrannical, sometime benign dictatorship of their leader, upon whom they depend for everything. Again, as in Men at Work, the political allegory is clear but not intrusive on the plot. Next is a work of popular cinema by Feridoun Jeyrani, called Garden Salad. It is not a great film, despite a fine acting job by Leila Khetami. But as an example of an Iranian attempt at film noir, it is worth seeing and adding to one’s collection.
David Giovacchini
Stanford University
As far as Egyptian films are concerned, the big news is The Yacoubian Building, directed by Marwan Hamed, and simply one of the best Egyptian films in years. If you haven’t added this to your collection yet, it is a must. Another fine new film is Bahithat an al-Hurriyah (Looking for freedom) by Inas al-Daghidi. It was criticized in Egypt for its depiction of immigration as the only viable option for an Arab woman looking for a fulfilling life. But this only adds to its importance. The film is a bit overlong though, as many Egyptian films are.
Certainly these two films are far above the usual frothy romantic comedies that the Egyptian film industry has been turning out. It is as if everyone involved had watched too many episodes of “Friends.” Here are some musts to avoid. Acquire them only if you’d like to document the decay of the Egyptian cinema:
Ouija
Dam al-Ghazal (Deer’s blood)
Inti Umri (My soul mate)
Halat Hubb (State of love)
Ashab wa-la Biznis (Friendship or business)
Ahlam Umrina (Dreams of our lives)
Even when they try to tackle a serious subject as in Laylat Suqut Baghdad (The fall of Baghdad), it is turned into a frothy nothing. The political events are used simply as a backdrop for a shallow love story. Still, two films that are the best of the lot are Harim Karim starring the pop star Mustafa Qamar, and Abu Ali with Mona Zaki.
I have found recently re-issues of three films from the classic realism period of Egyptian cinema in the 1980s and 1990s. They all have English subtitles and would be an excellent addition to any collection. All star such greats as Adel Imam, Yusra, Nur al-Sharif, and Lablabah, and are directed by some of Egypt’s finest:
Hata la Yutira al-Dukhan (That the smoke may not blow away) (1984) directed by Ahmed Yahya
Laylah sakhinah (A hot night) (1994) directed by Atif al-Tayyib
Tuyur al-Zalam (Birds of darkness) (1995) directed by Sharif Arafah
David Giovacchini
Stanford University
A number of truly notable films have come from Turkey recently. There have been new films by several world class directors. The first is Iklimlar (Climates) by Nuri Bilge Ceylan, best known in the West for his 2002 film Uzak. Iklimlar continues the director’s minimalist approach, with spare dialogue and long tight close-ups. Its story casts a chilly view on the possibilities of real communication in human relationships. Next is Zeki Demirkubuz’s film Kader (Fate). Like Ceylan, Demirkubuz is on familiar ground. As in his 1997 film Masumiyat (Innocence), this movie is set among the criminal fringe, the down and outs of Turkish urban life, but explores the universal theme of the power of passion to destroy, rather than uplift, a life, when it becomes obsession. There is also a new film by Dervis Zaim, which I have not seen yet, called Cenneti Beklerden (Waiting for heaven). Zaim’s fine earlier work, such as Tabutta Rouasata (Somersault in a coffin) (1996) and Filler ve Cemen (Elephants and grass) (2000), bodes well for this film.
Two sweet and gentle comedies have come out this year: Hokkabaz (Trickster), written and directed by and starring one of Turkey’s top comics, Cem Yilmaz. The film traces the adventures in magic and love of a somewhat less than talented stage magician. The other is the award-winning Dondurmam Gaymak (Creamy ice cream), written and directed by Yuksel Aksu. In the film, a village ice cream man takes on both the challenge of the big ice cream companies, and the mischievous little boys of his town. There is also a sci-fi oddity out, a sequel to one of the worst films ever made, Dunyayi Kurtaran Adam (The man who saved the world) (1982). Prepare yourself for Dunyayi Kurtaran Adam’nin Oglu (Son of the man who saved the world), starring a quite aged Cuneyt Arkin, who played the title role in the first film. The first Star Trek films spring to mind. Get the original for kitsch value alone, and pass on the sequel. Also pass on Sinav (Exam) a slick Western MTV-inspired look at Turkish students preparing (in unorthodox ways) for their crucial college entrance exam. It is not worthy of the director, Omer Faruk Sorak, who also made Vizontele and G.O.R.A.
As people who choose to live a religiously conservative lifestyle become more numerous and conspicuous on Turkish streets, Islam and the role it might play in their heretofore strictly secular society have become subjects much in the minds of Turks today. Two fine films that reflect this preoccupation are the award-winning Takva (Piety) by Ozer Kiziltan, and Adem’in Trenleri (Adam’s trains) by Baris Pirhasan. In Takva a simple pious man is chosen to look after the considerable financial holdings of his Sufi lodge. The film charts his growing corruption and loss of faith. In Adem’in Trenleri, a new imam comes to a small rural village. At first, he seems a grim, unsympathetic figure who mistreats his young wife and daughter. Eventually, it is revealed that he married his wife when she was pregnant by another man to save her from mistreatment and ridicule. In the course of the film, the villagers learn of his compassionate nature, while he learns just how much he really loves his young wife. The realistic depiction of a village imam in this film is far beyond the offensive “imam as cool guy” caricature presented by last year’s Imam.
The Turks have long enjoyed historical films, usually of the ghazi variety. A film that deals with modern political events like the 1980 coup is a rarity, but that is the subject of the new film Zincirbozan (The broken chain), directed by Atil Inac. This political thriller pulls no punches historically, and is a fine fictional examination of one of Turkey’s dark periods. On the lighter side is Son Osmanli Yandun Ali (The last Ottoman, Yandun Ali), directed by Mustafa Sevi Dogan. The film is an adaptation of a series of graphic novels by Suat Yalaz about the fictional character involved in the Turkish War of Independence. The film casts the hero as a Turkish James Bond, but it is still a unique expression of contemporary Turkish culture and essential to any collection. Another fine costume epic of World War I that has recently been released is Eve Giden Yol 1914, written and directed by Semir Aslanyurek.
Lastly, there have been two reissues of classic Turkish films from the days of the Turkish Hollywood, known as Yesilcam. These films feature some the best known stars and directors, and most importantly, have English subtitles. Many of the classic Turkish films are available, but most do not have subtitles. The first is an atmospheric masterwork by auteur Metin Erksan, Sevmek Zamani (Time for love) (1965). The other is the award-winning Selvi Boylum Al Yazmalim (The girl with the red scarf) (1977) by Atif Yilmaz. Based on a novel by Cengiz Aytmatov, it stars Kadir Inanir, Turkan Soray, and Ahmet Mekin. These films will provide some historical perspective to any collection.
David Giovacchini
Stanford University
(NOV. 5, 2009): The George Atiyeh Prize Committee–composed of Christine Dykgraaf, Akram Khabibullaev, and Jonathan Rogers–is pleased to announce the George N. Atiyeh Award Winner for 2009.
This year’s recipient, Ms. Katherine Sydenham, is currently enrolled in the MLS program at St. John’s University Department of Library & Information Science in Jamaica, New York.
For more details, see the webpage for the Atiyeh prize and the official MELA press release.
Distant relations: Iran and Lebanon in the last 500 years. By H. E. Chehabi, with contributions by Rula Jurdi Abisaab et al. Oxford: Centre for Lebanese Studies; London: I. B. Tauris; New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2006. Pp. xiv, 322, with bibliographical references and index. ISBN: 1860645615.
H. E. Chehabi, Professor of International Relations and History at the University of Boston, is the editor of this book, and author or co-author of six of the twelve papers. Six other scholars also contributed papers, while a paper by the late scholar Albert Hourani is reprinted, a fact not noted in the pertinent chapter itself, and only incompletely cited in the preface.
The premise of the book is that while the media make much of the current relations between Iran and the Lebanese Hizballah, this relationship did not spring out of nowhere. The book therefore proceeds to study the history of religious, cultural, and political relations between Iranians and Lebanese.
The first paper, written by Chehabi and Hassan I. Mneimneh, is an introductory paper which lays the groundwork for the rest of the book and summarizes what is to be discussed. It is here that the full citation to the Hourani paper is finally found, buried in a footnote on p. 6. The remaining eleven papers are arranged essentially chronologically, and divided among three parts.
Part I, Iran and Pre-Independence Lebanon, discusses the early centuries, starting with Hourani’s paper, “From Jabal `Amil to Persia.” This describes the emigration of Shi`ite scholars from Jabal `Amil in southern Lebanon to what is now Iran. A paper by Rula Jurdi Abisaab continues the discussion about the `Amili `ulamā’ in Syria and Iran. This is followed by a paper by Richard Hollinger on the Baha’i students at the American University of Beirut from 1906–1948, a paper which seems somewhat out of place in a book whose main goal is to trace the development of relations between Iranian and Lebanese Shi`ites. The final paper in this part, written by Chehabi, discusses the memoirs of the prominent Iranian scholar and diplomat Qasem Ghani (1893–1952), covering the time he spent in Beirut during World War I. It includes lengthy quotes from Ghani’s memoirs, translated into English.
Part II, Pahlavi Iran and the First Republic, starts with a paper by Chehabi and Majid Tafreshi entitled “Musa Sadr and Iran.” While much has been written about Sadr’s leadership of Lebanese Shi`ites in the 1970s and his disappearance in 1978, this paper covers his earlier years. After a brief discussion of Sadr’s ancestry and his family’s complex ties to both Iran and Lebanon, the paper describes how Sadr came to emigrate from Iran to Lebanon in 1959, and discusses his continuing political and religious relations with the Iranian Shi`ites and the Shah’s government. The next paper, by A. W. Samii, describes Iran’s foreign policy towards Lebanon during the period from 1957 to 1976, its attempts to influence events in Lebanon, and the role of SAVAK. The final paper in this part, by Chehabi, describes the activities of Iranian anti-Shah opposition groups located in Lebanon, and their relations with Lebanese groups.
Part III, The Islamic Republic and Hizballah, starts with a paper by Chehabi, “Iran and Lebanon in the revolutionary decade,” which describes relations of the Islamic Republic in Iran with groups in Lebanon, which by then was in the throes of its civil war, as well as its backing of groups, including the nascent Hizballah, which opposed Israel and its occupation of Lebanese territory. The next paper, by Rula Jurdi Abisaab, discusses revolutionary Shi`ism in Lebanese hawzas, a hawza being “a new type of religious seminary that differs from the traditional Lebanese madrasa in that it is more institutionalized and bureaucratized” (p. 231). She discusses the role of the clerics and the influence of the hawzas on the political and social lives of Lebanese Shi`ites. In the next paper, Judith Harik describes Hizballah’s public and social services in Lebanon, the role of such services as an agent of political mobilization, and the support provided by Iran. The book concludes with a paper by Chehabi which describes relations between Iran and Lebanon, including Hizballah, after 1989, the year which marked the death of Khomeini and the signing of the Ta’if agreement which eventually led to the end of the Lebanese civil war.
Each paper includes copious footnotes located at the bottom of the page where they are cited, a convenience which spares the reader from having to constantly flip back and forth to a notes section. Bibliographical references are included in the footnotes, but unfortunately there are no comprehensive bibliographies, neither at the end of each paper nor for the book as a whole. The book includes an adequate index.
All papers are scholarly and informative, and often shed new light on the events described. The book would be of interest to scholars in the areas mentioned above as well as to educated members of the public interested in Middle Eastern affairs. It would be an important addition to academic libraries which support Middle East studies programs.
Catherine Rockwell
University of Utah Marriott Library
Female Homosexuality in the Middle East: Histories and Representations. By Samar Habib. Routledge Research in Gender and Society. New York and London: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group, 2007. Pp. 195, with bibliography, filmography, and index. ISBN: 0-415-95673.
This study aims minimally to present some evidence from medieval Arabic sources that describe homosexual desire, practice, and identity, challenging the notion that homosexuality, and in this case female homosexuality, is a western construct of the nineteenth century. The book will not be easy reading for Middle East specialists, although it is grounded in classical and modern Arabic and Islamic studies. It is more a contribution to theoretical debates on the nature of homosexuality, a debate which may be foreign to the reader in Middle Eastern studies, and which is not always explained sufficiently in the book. Moreover, Habib has analyzed only a small portion of the vast primary material on sexuality in the history of the Middle East in order to prove her case. Scholars in the field of sexualities, on the other hand, may find it difficult to follow some of the arcane Middle Eastern and Islamic expertise.
The book is divided into four parts, dealing with the theoretical context, the history and representation of female homosexuality in the Middle Ages, in the contemporary Middle East, and conclusion. The author derives a new paradigm for “gay” historiography from an obscure ninth-century work of Ahmad Bin Mohamad Bin Ali al-Yemeni that contains descriptions of “grinding” (suhaq), which she argues warrants using the modern term female homosexuality. A poem quoted by Yemeni, written by a grinder, suggests that homosexual beauty, desire, and acts are among God’s creation. Yemeni also cites the first instance of female homosexual love ever recorded in history—a sort of Madam and Eve foundation myth. Another anecdote indicates that female homosexuality may be romantic and long-lasting. There are women who prefer grinding over pleasure with men, and there is a measure of societal acceptance for this phenomenon. In short, all the elements of female homosexuality.
The second part of the book is composed of an overview of some medieval Arabic literature on female homosexuality which contains some interesting and challenging insights. Although Habib tries to be as careful as possible in interpreting the sources, the ideas she raises are not always sufficiently grounded. The idea of homosexual relations between elite women and their female slaves is compelling, but deserves further study. Moreover, the close reading of Ahmad Ibn Yusuf Tifashi’s Nuzhat al-Albab is not always convincing.
The third part of the book, dealing with contemporary representations of female homosexuality, contains an analysis of “the first Arabic, lesbian-centered novel,” Elham Mansour’s Ana Hiya Anti, published in Beirut in 2000. Another chapter is devoted to a very few Arab films that have some male and female, homoerotic and homosexual, suggestions or explicit references. These are reviewed for some reason in non-chronological order, which further undermines unsubstantiated historical statements. Finally, some Israeli homosexual organizations, as well as Muslim and Middle Eastern gay websites, are mentioned as harbingers for the future.
The study of female homosexuality in the Middle East in the past and present is important and will undoubtedly contribute to a multicultural approach to female homosexuality in general, as the author argues. There are serious problems of sources and methodology for such endeavors. Nevertheless, this book will be quite disappointing for scholars of the Middle East. Perhaps it would have been preferable to open this field of inquiry with an anthology of discrete in-depth and more sophisticated studies.
Ruth Roded
The Hebrew University of Jerusalem