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Quote by Rabih Alameddine

“Neither father nor son moved, but stayed face to face for hours and hours, neither looking away nor surrendering, until the sun finished its daily pilgrimage, for no day is so long that it is not ended by nightfall.”

Quote by Rabih Alameddine

Book:The Hakawati
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Work

The Hakawati

This novel is a captivating blend of oral tradition and historical narrative, weaving together tales from the region's past with the personal stories of its characters. more

Author

Rabih Alameddine
Rabih Alameddine

Rabih Alameddine is a Lebanese-American writer known for his poetic prose and exploration of Arab-American identity, LGBTQ+ themes, and Middle Eastern culture. Born in Beirut in 1959, he moved to the United States in 1990. His notable works include The Angel of History, An Unnecessary Woman, The Hakawati, and Koolaids. Alameddine's writing, characterized by lyrical language and innovative narrative techniques, has been nominated for numerous literary awards, making him one of the most significant contemporary Arab-American authors. more

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“Now he must get back to Margaret. In the old days, he used to come home full of tales about deliveries, excited, even exalted by having witnessed the same old miracle. But after they lost both their sons in the war, she couldn't stand to hear about any of that and he kept it to himself. She had become a shadow, acquiescent, passive, full of humdrum little remarks about the house and the weather and how hard he was on his clothes, and then he'd bought her a puppy, and she talked endlessly about that. It had become a fat spoiled dog, and still she talked about it as though it were a puppy. It was all he could think to do for her, as his grief had never been allowed to be on par with hers. He kept that to himself as well. But when he was alone in the car like this, and with a drop of whisky inside him, he thought about Ian and Donald who were never spoken of at home, who would, he felt, be entirely forgotten except for his own memory and their names on the village monument.”

LoveDeathDeath Of A Loved OneSonsRemembering Loved Ones
Book:The Light Years
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“Tell me about your children," he said. "What would you like to know?" "Anything. How did you decide on their names?" "Justin was named after my husband's favorite uncle- a dear old bachelor who always brought him books when he was ill. My younger son, Stephen, was named after a character in an adventure novel Lord Clare and I read when we were children." "What was the title?" "I can't tell you; you'll think it's silly. It is silly. But we both loved it. We read it dozens of times. I had to send Henry my copy, after-" After you stole his. In Henry's view, the worst of West Ravenel's offenses had been stealing his copy of Stephen Armstrong: Treasure Hunter from a box of possessions beneath his bed at school. Although there had never been proof of the thief's identity, Henry had remembered that Ravenel had previously mocked him when he'd seen him reading it. "I know he's the one," Henry had written. "He's probably done something awful with it. Dropped it down the privy. I'd be surprised if the nincompoop can even read." "Someday when we're big," Phoebe had written in response, full of righteous vengeance, "we'll go thrash him together and take it back from him." But now she was sitting next to him at dinner. "-after he lost his copy," she finished awkwardly.”

UnfortunateCoincidenceSonsPhoebe ClareNamesakePhoebe And WestHenry ClareJustin ClareStephen Clare
Book:Devil's Daughter
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