Segments from: About my Life and Education
By: Nazik Almalaika
This autobiographical article was written mainly in order to respond
to questions which were often paused to the Poetess. It was reprinted more
than once, appearing recently as a part of the introduction to : Yugaer
Alwanhu Al-Bahr , a collection of poems which was published in cairo,
Egypt, in 1998.
I was born on the 23rd of August in 1923. I was the oldest of
my four sisters and two brothers.
I graduated from high school in 1939. Since I was a child, I
loved the Arabic and English languages, History, and music. I also enjoyed
the sciences, particularly astronomy and chemistry. But I disliked mathematics.
I looked forward to the day when I could focus on the humanities in college
in order to escape math. I studied the Arabic language in a school which
prepares teachers, from which I got my BA in 1944. During my study,
I was introduced to - and loved- philosophy, which assisted me in being
logical. My continuous study of Arabic Grammar - especially the classic
texts on this subject, prepared me for becoming a poet. I actually started
writing poems since my youth. Since I liked rhyming when I was very young,
and was able to tell poetry from prose, I heard my father and grand father
say that I am a poet before I understood the meaning of the word. I wrote
some poems, in Iraqi slang, when I was seven years old.
I wrote my first poem in the Arabic language
when I was ten years old. It had a grammatical error, so my father threw
in it cruelly on the floor, and criticized me saying: "Go, learn the laws
of Grammar first. Then write poems." My grammar teacher in school was very
weak, so my father had to teach me himself. Within a month I ranked among
the best students in class.
My parents noted I was gifted and enjoyed reading.
So, they excused me from house hold responsibilities completely. I had
therefore the time to prepare for my literary and intellectual future.
Ever since I can remember, my mother was writing
poems which were published in Iraqi magazines and journals with the pseudonym:
Um Nazar Al - Malaika. My father was a grammar teacher, and he wrote about
literature, language, and grammar, and he left many articles behind after
his death, one of which was an encyclopedia entitled: "The knowledge of
the common people" on which he worked his entire life, depending on hundreds
of resources. My father was not a poet, but he wrote many poems, including
an epic of three thousand lines in which he described a journey to Iran
in 1955. He was humble, and refused to call himself a poet, even though
he had wit, and often recited poems spontaneously, on the spot, when the
occasion demanded it, with a good sense of humor.
My parents influenced my intellectual and poetic life.
My father stayed my grammar teacher until I finished college. Whenever
I had a problem, he would help me. He taught me to love the grammar of
the Arabic language.
My father paved the way, when he put in my hands
his library which included many of the more important Arabic classics.
It was therefore natural that I was the only female student in the Arabic
department who focused on a grammatical theme which was: "Schools of Grammar."
The supervisor was the knowledgeable Prof. Mustafa Jawad who influenced
my intellectual life immensely.
My mother's influence on my poems is clear. I would
show her my first poems, and she would critique them and try to guide me.
But I would argue obstinately. I was influenced since high school with
the modern poetry of Mahmod Hasn Ismail, Badawy Al Jabl, Amjad Al Tarabulsy,
Omar Abu Risha, and Bishara al Koli, and others, while she respected and
loved more classic poets as Alzahawy in particular. He was her favorite
poet. Her interest was in classic poetry, while I sought the innovative
modern poets. But the taste of my mother was developing, as would note
those who would study her poems - which I gathered and published in book
called "Anshodat Al MAjd." My mother was definitely moving towards modernism
- but we remained different, because of my interest in reading English
and French works.
In spite of this difference we stayed friends. She would
read my poems, and I would read hers, until her death in 1953, when she
was 42 years old.
During the years of my academic education, I used to participate
in social events by reciting my poems. Iraqi journals would print those
poems after the recital, but I ignored that early work, and did not include
any of it in my published works because I have matured since then.
The fact is that I loved writing poems since 1941 when I was a student
in college. In that year I reached my emotional, intellectual and spiritual
maturity. It was also the year of an important revolution which I wrote
about in many poems, which however were not published. But the police regime
gained control in Iraq, and many people were killed. People were afraid
of talking. My mother and I continued writing our poems in secret.
In 1947 I published my first collection of poems, which
I entitled "The lover of the Night." For me the night symbolized poetry,
imagination, vague dreams, the beauty of the moon, and flickering of the
lights on the river waters. At night I would play my lute (Aoud:
An arabic musical instrument resembling the Guitar) in the back garden
of our house between the thick trees, for hours. I had a good memory and
I would memorize the songs of Abdul Wahab and Aum Kalthum whenever I heard
them through the Gramophone of our neighbors. My mother would be surprised
when I sang, and she would say: "How did you memorize all these songs?
Where did you hear them? How?" She did not know that whenever I heard a
song I would freeze, even in the middle of the street. In those days, the
radio was not yet a part of Iraqi cultural life. We would listen to music
through the gramophone. Baghdad radio did not commence its broadcast till
1935, as far as I recall, when I became twelve years old.
A few months after the publication of "the Lover
of the Night" Egypt suffered from the spread of an epidemic, the Cholera.
We heard in the radio the numbers of the dead. When they reached three
hundred every day I was very affected poetically. I sat down to write a
poem in the regular classic style, changing the rhyme every four lines
or so. After I finished, I read what I had and felt that it did not carry
all what I felt. I considered the poem a failure. A few days later the
number of the dead rose to 600. I sat again and wrote, using a different
meter and rhyme. At the end I felt that I have failed again. I felt that
I need a different style. I stayed gloomily reflecting on the possibility
of expressing the tragedy of Cholera which killed hundreds of men every
day.
On Friday, 27, 10, 1947, I awoke from sleep, and
heard that the number of the dying has risen to a thousand a day. I became
depressed and agitated. I carried a note book and a pen and left our crowded
house to a place where a huge building was being built next to ours. It
was empty because of the Friday holidays. I sat on wall, and started writing
my poem "The Cholera." I have heard in the radio that the dead were being
carried on top of one another in carriages driven by horses. So I tried
following the rhythm of the horses' trot"
The night has quieted
Listen to the rhythm of the echoes of moaning
In the depth of darkness, under the silence, for the dead.
In those lines of unequal length, I was able to express my feelings.
The classic form could not express the tragedy of Cholera. I found myself
successfully expressing my emotions with the new form:
Death, Death, Death.
Humanity laments the crimes of death.
In about an hour, the poem was finished. I run home, crying to my sister
"Ihsan": "look I have written a strange shaped poem. I believe it will
stir controversy." As soon as my sister read it, and she was its first
reader, she became equally excited. We hurried to show it to my mother,
but she received it coldly saying: "What is this strange rhythm. the lines
are not of equal length, and the music is weak." When my father read
it, he was angered and expressed resentment, saying sarcastically:
"and what is this 'death, death, death'?" My brothers and sisters were
laughing as I retorted: "Say what you will. I am sure that this poem will
change the map of Arabic poetry." I was very excited when making such statements.
But the Great Lord was on my side, and my poem did have an impact, as I
wished in that strange friday morning in our house.
Since that day I wrote blank verse, even though
I did not move to the extreme of ignoring completely traditional poetic
forms, as many other poets, of the following generation, have done.
In 1949, I published in Baghdad my second collection
of poems , Shdaia W Rmad, which included an introduction explaining
my ideas about the new poetic form I used in ten of the new poems. As soon
as the book appeared a raging controversy stirred, and many articles were
written about it, most of which rejecting the new form I advocated. But
my ideas were read by poets in Egypt, Lebanon, and Syria, and soon numerous
poems using the same form were in print, many of which being dedicated
to me.
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In 1942 my interest in languages, poetry and art, reached its
peak. I sought culture and art hungrily. During that year, I enrolled in
the Belle arts institute in order to study the lute. I also studied acting,
and latin. On top of all this, I was a second year student in college.
I gave myself passionately to those studies, and loved them.
I yearned to play the lute since early childhood. When my father felt
my longing, he agreed to let me study it after some hesitation. I studied
with Professor Muhyee AL-deen hinder, known as Al-shareef, who had a unique
style in playing. Many of his gifted students -as Slman Shuker, and
Jameel Basheer, are well known in Iraq today. The study program was made
for six years, during which students studied oriental chords - Makamat
- , their abilities evolving gradually, until they would finally learn
to play difficult pieced as, "reflection" - Taa'mul- , That I had wings
- Leet lee Jnahan - and "Caprice." Al-shareef would also alter the
tunes of other musicians, as Tanios, Jameel, Aziz dde, and Yousef Basha.
Such changes would improve the original, and reproduce it live. I used
to sit in class enchanted, as though listening to a prayer. My Professor
would repeatedly tell me that I am gifted, but he fears that poetry will
take me from music. Today I still play with the accompaniment of the lute
the songs of Abdul-Whab, Am kalthum, Fairuz, Abd al halim Hafz, and Najat.
Music for me is a hobby, and not the profession which my professor expected.
He probably hoped that I could sing and play in the radio, as well as compose
original pieces.
Two motives urged me to study acting.
First I wanted to learn how to perform. I used to read my poems to
audiences without knowing how to express my emotions verbally. Studying
drama helped me. Secondly, when I looked at the study program, I was impressed.
Drama students learned Greek mythology in depth. The theme of "the history
of Drama" included studying Aescheles, Sophociles, and Arestophan. I knew
how rich Greek art was, and its necessity for the actor and the disciple,
so I asked my father's permission to study it. He refused at first, but
then he was required to teach the Arabic language - for Drama students.
When he discovered that I will become his student, he took me with him
to Professor Al-Shably, who was in charge of the program then, and he enrolled
me as a student. I was happy.
There was a story for my interest in the study of
Latin. I was a student in the Arabic department, and we studied English.
Our Professor indicated often the necessity of learning Latin to whoever
sought to study English Literature. The desire for studying Latin was created
within me. In 1941-1942 the English Program added Latin to its Freshman
Program for English majors. And now I longed for studying it. When I approached
the Professor on the possibility of studying in his class, he refused saying
that it would be of no use to me. I then talked to the Dean, asking his
permission, and he allowed me to study with the majors of English. I started
excitedly memorizing those endless lists of verbs conjugation.
My love of Latin stays with me today. I still purchase
Latin Poetry books, and try to read them whenever I have the chance. I
remember that I wrote my diary in Latin after two months of study. I also
wrote lyrics to the famous melody of - At the Balalaika - in Latin. Naturally,
the lyric was primitive, since I was a beginner in my study of the language.
Bit I continued studying Latin for many years alone with the help of a
dictionary. Later, in Princeton at the US. I studied a class where we read
the speeches of shesheron. I became also attached to the Roman Poet Cotolos,
and memorized some of his poems. I still recite some of them in my hours
of solitude.
In 1949 I started studying French, at home, with
my younger Brother, Nizar, who was then a student in the English Department.
He was attached to literature and languages. He is also a poet. We were
very close friends, and we shared a room where visitors would find books
scattered on our beds. We often would discuss art and life. We started
learning French without a teacher, depending solely on an English book
which taught French. We continued learning until we were capable of reading
poetry, criticism, and Philosophy, in French. In 1953, I studied the French
language at a language institute. We read classics of French Literature,
such as the stories of : Alfonse Dodie, Mopsan, and the Drama of Moliere.
But my pronunciation of that language was weak because I studied without
the help of a teacher who pronounced the words in front of me. I never
had the chance to travel to France. This always bothers me because I can
read, and comprehend, but cannot speak, or pronounce the words of this
beautiful language.
I started reading English Literature when I was
a student when we read the sonnets of Shakespeare, and "a Mid Summer Night's
Dream". I translated one the sonnets to Arabic then. Afterwards I read
the poetry of Byron and Shelly. In 1950, I entered a course in the British
Council where we studied poetry, and modern Drama, in preparation for an
exam by Cambridge University which offers those who pass it the degree
of "Proficiency." The level of this study was higher than That of the University.
In the course I met a young lady who was majoring in English, and was in
the fourth year of college. She did not pass the exam. I did. The reason
for my success was that I read throughout the year numerous texts of poetry
and Drama. Most of those who were with us in the course failed, and only
two of us passed. After this success, I went to the United States to study
Literary Criticism.
I studied for a year, through a scholarship which
Rockfeller institute offered. They choose for me to study Literary Criticism
in Princeton University, At New Jersey. It was an all male university then.
I was the only female student. The administrators were surprised whenever
they would see my in the library. I studied with the Giants of Criticism
in the States then, such as Richard Blackmoor, Allen Dwanner, Donald Stawfir,
and Delmore Shwartz, each of whom wrote well - known texts of Criticism.
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After I retained to Iraq in 1951, I started writing
Prose, especially in the field of Literary Criticism. In 1953 I delivered
a speech in the United Women's Club in Baghdad which was entitled: "Woman
between two extremes: Passivity, and ethics" in which I criticized the
situation of women in the Arabic World, and the impotence of Arabic society.
I advocated liberating women from passivity. This lecture caused a stir,
and people talked about it for a long time, especially since Baghdad Radio
transmitted it in its entirety. Soon it was published in Al-Addab
, the Lebanese prestigious literary magazine.
During this period I continued writing Poetry and
Criticism, publishing my works in Al-Adeeb and Al-Addab,
two Lebanese literary journals.
In 1953, I suffered an event which shook my life
to the core. My mother got very sick all of a sudden, and the Doctors decided
that she must have an operation immediately in London. No one in our house
could have gone with her except me, because of my knowledge of English,
and my acquaintance with this city. Nazar had left to the States. I was
forced to accompany her in a hurry, with a terrified heart. I sensed That
a terrible event was going to take place. A week before leaving to London,
I dreamt of walking in its streets, searching for a colored coffin, in
vain. I did not tell of my dream to any one of my family. I traveled with
her, and she entered the operation room immediately, and was then carried
to the room where they kept corpses. I saw her dying in a scene which shook
my life to the core. I had to attend the funeral and witness the burial,
and these were duties I have not been accustomed to. I returned to Iraq
after two weeks broken depressed and shaky. For I loved my mother deeply.
As soon as I saw my brothers and relatives wearing black as they welcomed
me in the airport I started crying, without interruption, day and night.
It was obvious that I was sick. A psychiatrist gave me some anti-depressant
pills. I stopped crying, even though the sadness stays with me today, after
45 years. I wrote after this tragedy a poem: "Three laments to my Mother"
where I developed a new style in elegy. The poem was very well received.
I was fortunate when I was chosen to study comparative
literature in the United States. I was accepted in Madison, Wisconsin,
one of the top ten Universities of the States. I traveled very excited
to study. I was able to use effectively my knowledge of foreign languages,
especially English and French, while studying comparative literature. I
gained immeasurably from this study. I spent most of the time in the library
which enriched my life with beautiful and varying thoughts. I gained in
experience during this short period more than from the rest of my life
put together.
The educational system at Madison was very effective.
It did not require writing a long thesis, but demanded that the student
prepares a large number of short pieces of research in various fields.
I found great pleasure in writing these articles which improved my ability
to write criticism. My research in English is still untranslated. The reason
for my ignoring it is that it all focused on European Arts, without any
mention of Arabic Authors. I have always believed that the Arabic critics
who write using too many foreign names are presumptuous, forcing a foreign
culture on the simple Arabic reader. I hope to extend the comparative aspect
of these texts so that they would include some Arabic names besides the
foreign ones. Then I will feel comfortable in publishing them.
I traveled to Wisconsin in 1954. Preparing
for the Masters in comparative literature two years during which I wrote
in my notes my thoughts concerning the books I read, the people I
met, and my thoughts concerning the American female. I also delved deep
in self analysis. I discovered that I could not express my thoughts and
emotions as everyone else around me does, but prefer withdrawing, silence,
and shyness. I made up my mind to change this negative characteristic,
and my diary witnessed my efforts to change myself. I would take one step
forward, and two steps back. Total change, if possible, would take a continuous
effort for many years.
I understand today that changing the self is a very
difficult task. I consider my effort to change myself and my attitude a
heroic struggle. I will one day select segments for my diaries in Wisconsin
for publication. I have already given a segment of it for publication to
the Egyptian daily journal, Al-Ahram in the summer of 1966, and it appeared
in the 5 -8 - 1966 issue.
On the way back from the States I passed through
Italy and the south of France. In Damascus I was invited to the second
Arab Artists conference in Bloudan. I felt then a crises coming since,
due to my absence in the states, I used only foreign languages. Using the
Arabic language was difficult for me, especially during that conference
which initiated my return to the beloved Arab World. The feeling of discomfort
with the Arabic tongue left me after few months during which I regained
my fluency in the mother tongue.
In 1957 I published in Beirut my third collection
of poems - Qarart Al Muja - (the depth of the wave) which included selections
from my new poems.
1958 was the year of the Iraqi revolution, which
impacted me totally for the whole year. I celebrated the revolution with
a poem commencing with:
The joy of the orphan with a paternal embrace
The joy of the thirsty upon testing water
The joy of July with the breath of snow
The joy of darkness with a spring of light
our joy with the republic
The poem was a simple expression of profound joy with the revolution,
and a warning against the conspiracies of its enemies:
Oh flower, the market is stirring
Be careful of its zionist anger
with American Talons
But the Iraqi president, Abd Al Karem Qasm soon wavered, and the desire
for absolute power took hold of him. He thus allowed the enemies of Arab
unity to damage the beauty of the revolution, destroying its nationalist
tendencies which I loved dearly. The violence of the government, and the
fear for my safety under the brutality of the regime, forced me to leave
Iraq. I lived in Beirut for a whole year (1959 - 1960). During this period,
I published some of my political works in Al - Adab.
In 1957 I started teaching in the college of education
in Baghdad. I taught literary criticism, and poetic meters (Al - Aroud).
After my return from Beirut I met a colleague, Dr. Abdulhadi Mahbobah,
a graduate of Cairo university. In the middle of 1961 we got married. He
was the best colleague, companion, and friend.
In 1962, I published my first book in literary criticism
Issues of Modern Poetry. In this book, I studied blank verse
in depth, explaining its meters. I depended upon my knowledge of the subject,
and the sensitivity I acquired through reading numerous poems in various
languages, and on my studies and knowledge of the works of my colleges.
I dedicated the book to president Abd ul Naser, thus challenging the Iraqi
president who hated him.
In 1964, me and my husband traveled to Basra where
we established a University. Abdul Hadi was its head, and I taught and
afterwards was elected as chair for the Arabic department. We stayed there
for four years. We left Basra in the later part of 1968. We taught in Baghdad
for a year, then left to Kuwait where we taught for many years.
In 1964, I was invited by the institute for Arabic
studies in cairo to deliver lectures on any theme I would choose. I busied
myself with writing a book about the poet Ali Mahmoud Taha who influenced
me during my youth, when I was a student in the drama department. The book
was published in Cairo (The poetry of Ali Mahmoud Taha). It was then reprinted
in Beirut. The Title became : The temple and the red Balcony (Al-Souma'aa
wa al- shurfa al Hamraa'a).
In 1978 I published my fourth collection of poems
entitled the Moon Tree, Shjarat Al - Qamar. My poetry now evolved,
becoming less philosophic than it was at a previous period.
In 1970 I published an epic poem: The tragedy
of Life and a song to humanity.
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