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The Arab Apocalypse
Poetry. Middle Eastern studies. Translated from the French by the author. Reprinted with a new foreward by Jalal Toufic. "This book, a masterwork of the dislocations and radiant outcries of the Arab world, reaffirms Etel Adnan, who authored the great poem, Jebu, as among the foremost poets of the French Language. THE ARAB APOCALYPSE is an immersion into a rapture of chaos clawing towards destiny, and nullified hope refusing its zero. Is is also the journey of soul through the cartography of a global immediacy rarely registered by maps, replete with signposts like hieroglyphs in a storm of shrapnel and broken glass. And above all it is a book that, though capable of being read in its orderly sequence, has so surrendered to 'being there,' it can rivet the sensibility to the Middle Eastern condition at any point in the text--so rapid are its mutations, so becoming its becomingness--like a wisdom book or a book of Changes"--Jack Hirschman.
"It has a power and intensity that few poets today can muster—only Allen Ginsberg's Howl comes to mind."—Alice Molloy
"The power of Adnan's language and imagery reminds us that she is indeed one of the most significant post-modern poets in contemporary Arab culture."—Kamal Boullatta
"THE ARAB APOCALYPSE is, to date, Adnan's most triumphant battle with the exactness of words."—Douglas Powell
"The poem invokes a mythic past of Gilgamesh, Tammouz, and Ishtar to presage a present that resists narration, THE ARAB APOCALYPSE contests an uncritical reflection on the immediate historical past."—Barbara Harlow
"It has a power and intensity that few poets today can muster—only Allen Ginsberg's Howl comes to mind."—Alice Molloy
"The power of Adnan's language and imagery reminds us that she is indeed one of the most significant post-modern poets in contemporary Arab culture."—Kamal Boullatta
"THE ARAB APOCALYPSE is, to date, Adnan's most triumphant battle with the exactness of words."—Douglas Powell
"The poem invokes a mythic past of Gilgamesh, Tammouz, and Ishtar to presage a present that resists narration, THE ARAB APOCALYPSE contests an uncritical reflection on the immediate historical past."—Barbara Harlow
79 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1980
About the author
Etel Adnan
114 books322 followersEtel Adnan was born in Beirut, Lebanon in 1925. She studied philosophy at the Sorbonne, U.C. Berkeley, and at Harvard, and taught at Dominican College in San Rafael, California, from 1958–1972.
In solidarity with the Algerian War of Independence (1954–1962), Adnan began to resist the political implications of writing in French and became a painter. Then, through her participation in the movement against the Vietnam War (1959–1975), she began to write poetry and became, in her words, “an American poet.” In 1972, she returned to Beirut and worked as cultural editor for two daily newspapers—first for Al Safa, then for L’Orient le Jour. Her novel Sitt Marie-Rose, published in Paris in 1977, won the France-Pays Arabes award and has been translated into more than ten languages.
In 1977, Adnan re-established herself in California, making Sausalito her home, with frequent stays in Paris. Adnan is the author of more than a dozen books in English, including Journey to Mount Tamalpais (1986), The Arab Apocalypse (1989), In the Heart of the Heart of Another Country (2005), and Sea and Fog (2012), winner of the Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Poetry and the California Book Award for Poetry. Her most recent books are Night (2016) and Surge (2018). In 2014, she was awarded one of France’s highest cultural honors: l’Ordre de Chevalier des Arts et Lettres. Numerous museums have presented solo exhibitions of Adnan’s work, including SFMoMA; Zentrum Paul Klee; Institute du Monde Arabe, Paris; Serpentine Galleries; and Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art, Qatar.
In solidarity with the Algerian War of Independence (1954–1962), Adnan began to resist the political implications of writing in French and became a painter. Then, through her participation in the movement against the Vietnam War (1959–1975), she began to write poetry and became, in her words, “an American poet.” In 1972, she returned to Beirut and worked as cultural editor for two daily newspapers—first for Al Safa, then for L’Orient le Jour. Her novel Sitt Marie-Rose, published in Paris in 1977, won the France-Pays Arabes award and has been translated into more than ten languages.
In 1977, Adnan re-established herself in California, making Sausalito her home, with frequent stays in Paris. Adnan is the author of more than a dozen books in English, including Journey to Mount Tamalpais (1986), The Arab Apocalypse (1989), In the Heart of the Heart of Another Country (2005), and Sea and Fog (2012), winner of the Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Poetry and the California Book Award for Poetry. Her most recent books are Night (2016) and Surge (2018). In 2014, she was awarded one of France’s highest cultural honors: l’Ordre de Chevalier des Arts et Lettres. Numerous museums have presented solo exhibitions of Adnan’s work, including SFMoMA; Zentrum Paul Klee; Institute du Monde Arabe, Paris; Serpentine Galleries; and Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art, Qatar.
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Displaying 1 - 29 of 33 reviews
March 4, 2022
When the sun will run its ultimate road
fire will devour beasts plants and stones
fire will devour the fire and its perfect circle
when the perfect circle will catch fire no angel will manifest itself STOP
the sun will extinguish the gods the angels and men
and it will extinguish itself in the midst of its daughters
Matter-Spirit will become the NIGHT
in the night in the night we shall find knowledge love and peace
fire will devour beasts plants and stones
fire will devour the fire and its perfect circle
when the perfect circle will catch fire no angel will manifest itself STOP
the sun will extinguish the gods the angels and men
and it will extinguish itself in the midst of its daughters
Matter-Spirit will become the NIGHT
in the night in the night we shall find knowledge love and peace
January 25, 2014
my god we are the terrible sun. my god we are terrible and full of stunt and hurt and my god alarmed earth and alarmed water. please save me etel. please haunt me.
August 31, 2021
Etel Adnan. Bir göçebe. Şehirler, sanatlar, diller ve dünyalar arası bir seyyah. Şair, yazar, ressam. Nihayet şahit, ille de şahit. Ve Arap Kıyameti. Panoramik turuncu kapaklar arasında melez bir metin, görsel bir şiir, sürreel bir tanıklık, postkolonyal bir çığlık. Ve sessizlik, ille de sessizlik.
Güneş hakkında soyut bir şiir olarak aldığı ilk nefesi 1975'te alevlenen Lübnan İç Savaşı ile kesilip uğursuz bir felaket şahitliğine dönen bir kelimeler denizi. Ya da gökyüzü. Ortasında güneş, renkten renge çürüyen, kah ağlayan kah kurban isteyen. Arap Kıyameti bu, anlatıcısı belirsiz bir hikâye. Konuşan kim ya da ne, kaç kişi var orada? Yine mi sen? Hepsine sessizlik. Arap Kıyameti bu, Adnan'ın takıntılı tekrarlamalarının ete, kemiğe, kana ve ışığa dönüşü. Defalarca renklerini feda ettiği Tamalpais Dağı misali, şimdi de güneş alıyor nasibini. Algılamanın hem nesnel hem öznel ikiliği. Değişen güneş, değişen dil. Arap Kıyameti bu, konuşan bazen kelimeler, bazen şekiller, abartılı işaretler, sessizlikler, kara delikler. Sahne bir tiyatro, kimi zaman büyür harfler, öter baykuşlar. Sesler yükselir uğursuzca, metin alır götürür seni. Adnan'ın okları çevirir sayfaları, akan giden sen olursun. Arap Kıyameti bu, doğası gereği sesli, doğası gereği suskun. Yüksek sesle okunmalık ya da sadece bakılmalık. Diyonizyak, şiddet dolu, aşırı ve dengesiz. Ama nihayetinde gece. Ve ay. Sessizlik. Arap Kıyameti bu, ufukta insanlığın son bulduğu düşüncelerin doğduğu simsiyah bir deniz.
Güneş hakkında soyut bir şiir olarak aldığı ilk nefesi 1975'te alevlenen Lübnan İç Savaşı ile kesilip uğursuz bir felaket şahitliğine dönen bir kelimeler denizi. Ya da gökyüzü. Ortasında güneş, renkten renge çürüyen, kah ağlayan kah kurban isteyen. Arap Kıyameti bu, anlatıcısı belirsiz bir hikâye. Konuşan kim ya da ne, kaç kişi var orada? Yine mi sen? Hepsine sessizlik. Arap Kıyameti bu, Adnan'ın takıntılı tekrarlamalarının ete, kemiğe, kana ve ışığa dönüşü. Defalarca renklerini feda ettiği Tamalpais Dağı misali, şimdi de güneş alıyor nasibini. Algılamanın hem nesnel hem öznel ikiliği. Değişen güneş, değişen dil. Arap Kıyameti bu, konuşan bazen kelimeler, bazen şekiller, abartılı işaretler, sessizlikler, kara delikler. Sahne bir tiyatro, kimi zaman büyür harfler, öter baykuşlar. Sesler yükselir uğursuzca, metin alır götürür seni. Adnan'ın okları çevirir sayfaları, akan giden sen olursun. Arap Kıyameti bu, doğası gereği sesli, doğası gereği suskun. Yüksek sesle okunmalık ya da sadece bakılmalık. Diyonizyak, şiddet dolu, aşırı ve dengesiz. Ama nihayetinde gece. Ve ay. Sessizlik. Arap Kıyameti bu, ufukta insanlığın son bulduğu düşüncelerin doğduğu simsiyah bir deniz.
December 29, 2016
My pain is mounting the sun like a racing horse.
The field is infinite!
I admit: I really hated the poem at first! But when I read the whole thing I knew what an idiot I was! This poem was a BIG MOMENT OF EPIPHANY for me.
A blue acetylene sun died of frost in the presence of a palm tree.
In death one plus one makes three!
This is a poem that shows you the brutality of fact, and the cruelty of reality. It WAKES YOU UP! It is just like Eliot's human voices which wake you up to face the fact that: "we drown".
Etel Adnan offers no hope in her poem, she only foresees destruction and a horrible overwhelming "night". So, make sure that you wake up and become a candle amidst all that cold and all that dark.
In the night .. in the night .. we shall find knowledge, love and peace
My pain is mounting the sun like a racing horse.
The field is infinite!
I admit: I really hated the poem at first! But when I read the whole thing I knew what an idiot I was! This poem was a BIG MOMENT OF EPIPHANY for me.
A blue acetylene sun died of frost in the presence of a palm tree.
In death one plus one makes three!
This is a poem that shows you the brutality of fact, and the cruelty of reality. It WAKES YOU UP! It is just like Eliot's human voices which wake you up to face the fact that: "we drown".
Etel Adnan offers no hope in her poem, she only foresees destruction and a horrible overwhelming "night". So, make sure that you wake up and become a candle amidst all that cold and all that dark.
In the night .. in the night .. we shall find knowledge, love and peace
December 18, 2021
War/postcolonial poetry that combines a myriad of archetypal references with an intensely idiosyncratic engagement with language and with the nature of signs. It does retain some traces of more transparent political engagement (more specifically, Adnan seems to take an antifascist stance at times and does not always paint the horrors of war with a fairly broad stroke as a way of merely saying ”everybody hurts”), but a more straightforward poetry like that of socialist realism wouldn't have been faithful in recording the whole sense of violence, bloodshed, desperation, catastrophe that imbues everything, mutilating language itself.
February 28, 2012
O caravans of hunger and curiosity O passion for Space!
They killed the dream with an axe! with an axe! with an axe!
The BIG RED SPOT of Jupiter is a storm. Matter is desperate.
A pink dove shattered a human face
lightning-rod going to the heart of a lemon
the sun has eaten its children I myself was a morning blessed with bliss
What to do with the sun when it hides behind tear gas?
Drink it. Drink it in little sips so that tenderness resembles hell.
I would love to place you in the heart of the night make the stone of your belly surge
They killed the dream with an axe! with an axe! with an axe!
The BIG RED SPOT of Jupiter is a storm. Matter is desperate.
A pink dove shattered a human face
lightning-rod going to the heart of a lemon
the sun has eaten its children I myself was a morning blessed with bliss
What to do with the sun when it hides behind tear gas?
Drink it. Drink it in little sips so that tenderness resembles hell.
I would love to place you in the heart of the night make the stone of your belly surge
August 2, 2020
a pink dove shattered a human face
December 24, 2021
book for the sun, book for war time, book for all time ... i had to read this as soon as i knew she died -- this book is a masterpiece, it pierces me. may etel adnan's memory be a blessing <3
"LAUGHTER the sun is laughing LAUGHTER the sun is laughing LAUGHTER the sun is laughing /
5 billion solar years ..... are grass snakes hiding in the texture of TIME"
"in the night in the night we shall find knowledge love and peace"
"LAUGHTER the sun is laughing LAUGHTER the sun is laughing LAUGHTER the sun is laughing /
5 billion solar years ..... are grass snakes hiding in the texture of TIME"
"in the night in the night we shall find knowledge love and peace"
October 15, 2024
It was equally impenetrable and beautiful
October 1, 2017
Etel Adnan's The Arab Apocalypse is a book that defies what we consider to be the norm for form. It is at once experimental and historical, serving as a critique and reflection on strife in the Middle East - specifically, in Lebanon. For the most part, it is largely impenetrable. The language is fractured and scattered and "graphic signs" (as described in the introduction by Jalal Toufic) are placed throughout stanzas of what is best described as poetry.
The impenetrability of the book is most likely highly intentional. The Arab Apocalypse was not intended for Western audiences - it is written by a Lebanese artist and poet and intended for Arabic audiences. As the introduction states, "it seems that the author, also an artist, had already translated it into graphic signs for so many Arabs [...] who are illiterate, for whom Arabic is as illegible as English and French - may they be jolted by its graphic signs...intro, at last but not least, learning to read - and then actually read."
To a certain extent, this book should be placed with Rabih Alameddine's Kool Aids. Both are reflections on war in Lebanon and both defy how we expect a book to be written. While Kool Aids is told through a massive amount of narrators without traditional signage pointing to who they are, this is told through poetic free verse. In some ways, it reminded me of the linguistic experimentation of the Beats. A great example of this would be in VII, when Adnan writes the following:
Beirut-sulphuric acid STOP the Quarantina is torching its inmates STOP Beirut
a sun on the finger a sun in the gun a sun climbing an elephant
cannibal anthropophagus sun wart on the cargoes ! ! ! ! ! !
To describe this as stream of consciousness would be largely inaccurate. Instead, we should look at the book as a text that attempts to capture the internal workings of the mind in war and suffering. As previously stated, the graphic elements are a reflection on illiteracy. But the greatest meaning comes from the way that Adnan seems to say to the reader, "I don't have to write how you expect me to write because the Western world doesn't expect writers from the Middle East."
Though there are many excellent reasons to read this book, I thought it was an overall unpleasant experience. Coming from the Western world, this was impenetrable and I often found myself reading without much direction. If you're looking for a straightforward narrative or any sort of traditional poetic structure, this book definitely is not for you. If you're looking for something that shows elements of the Eastern world and the literature that has emerged from war, this is the book for you. Ultimately, be prepared for discomfort when reading, both in content and in form.
The impenetrability of the book is most likely highly intentional. The Arab Apocalypse was not intended for Western audiences - it is written by a Lebanese artist and poet and intended for Arabic audiences. As the introduction states, "it seems that the author, also an artist, had already translated it into graphic signs for so many Arabs [...] who are illiterate, for whom Arabic is as illegible as English and French - may they be jolted by its graphic signs...intro, at last but not least, learning to read - and then actually read."
To a certain extent, this book should be placed with Rabih Alameddine's Kool Aids. Both are reflections on war in Lebanon and both defy how we expect a book to be written. While Kool Aids is told through a massive amount of narrators without traditional signage pointing to who they are, this is told through poetic free verse. In some ways, it reminded me of the linguistic experimentation of the Beats. A great example of this would be in VII, when Adnan writes the following:
Beirut-sulphuric acid STOP the Quarantina is torching its inmates STOP Beirut
a sun on the finger a sun in the gun a sun climbing an elephant
cannibal anthropophagus sun wart on the cargoes ! ! ! ! ! !
To describe this as stream of consciousness would be largely inaccurate. Instead, we should look at the book as a text that attempts to capture the internal workings of the mind in war and suffering. As previously stated, the graphic elements are a reflection on illiteracy. But the greatest meaning comes from the way that Adnan seems to say to the reader, "I don't have to write how you expect me to write because the Western world doesn't expect writers from the Middle East."
Though there are many excellent reasons to read this book, I thought it was an overall unpleasant experience. Coming from the Western world, this was impenetrable and I often found myself reading without much direction. If you're looking for a straightforward narrative or any sort of traditional poetic structure, this book definitely is not for you. If you're looking for something that shows elements of the Eastern world and the literature that has emerged from war, this is the book for you. Ultimately, be prepared for discomfort when reading, both in content and in form.
October 2, 2017
Etel Adnan’s The Arab Apocalypse is a book of poetry that takes the reader through the ravages of the Lebanon Civil War. Most notable to readers of The Arab Apocalypse is Adnan’s incorporation of pictographs that signal to reader’s deep alarm as they experience a deep sense of alienation upon attempting to construct a system of understanding. This alienation is so alarming to readers because it highlights a lack of awareness— which readers either dismiss on the premise that the pictographs are nonsensical, or they pay close attention to this gap of understanding in an earnest attempt to capture the projected and intended meaning. Both reactions to the pictographs suggest that perception is not universal, nor are readers reactions to what is perceived.
While the pictographs are consistent throughout the text, they don’t impede the readability of the text; when a reader forgets and then begins to pay attention to the pictographs, they attain a certain depth acquired through the performative logic that is best demonstrated in the quickly scrawled pictographs, capturing the narrator’s peril and psychological turmoil. Readers who do not derive such meaning, even still, experience their own terror at being unable to reconcile the meaning. Readers who do arrive at meaning, experience the horror of understanding exactly what the pictographs mean. These perceptions of the pictographs occur simultaneously, which is rather different, I think, for western readers who tend to intellectualize the matter that is being perceived— holding the matter at arm’s length.
This act of arm’s length reading can’t occur in this reading if a reader is being cautious because the constructed meaning becomes itself a latent reminder of a person’s ability to perceive. This is suggested in a quote Adnan has pointedly borrowed from a woman in her book Journey to Mount Tamplais, in which “To perceive is to be both objective and subjective. It is to be in the process of becoming one with whatever it is, while also becoming separate from it.”
At end, you have an author who is asking readers to construct the warfare in Lebanon beyond their comforts, beyond their cultural lens, beyond their cultural gaze, beyond practiced and learned objectivity.
In many ways, the use of the sun is in concert with the idea of an epicenter within the cosmos. This is perfectly appropriate as we receive imagery of Moses as a yellow sun (p. 17), as Syrian and Israeli sentiments help to fuel opposition within Lebanon.
The yellow sun is also an allusion to irradiated atoms that form constructed matter, which can construct destruction too, most often depicted in people who offer ideologies to hurt one another— believing they are the epicenter too (pg. 25).
While the pictographs are consistent throughout the text, they don’t impede the readability of the text; when a reader forgets and then begins to pay attention to the pictographs, they attain a certain depth acquired through the performative logic that is best demonstrated in the quickly scrawled pictographs, capturing the narrator’s peril and psychological turmoil. Readers who do not derive such meaning, even still, experience their own terror at being unable to reconcile the meaning. Readers who do arrive at meaning, experience the horror of understanding exactly what the pictographs mean. These perceptions of the pictographs occur simultaneously, which is rather different, I think, for western readers who tend to intellectualize the matter that is being perceived— holding the matter at arm’s length.
This act of arm’s length reading can’t occur in this reading if a reader is being cautious because the constructed meaning becomes itself a latent reminder of a person’s ability to perceive. This is suggested in a quote Adnan has pointedly borrowed from a woman in her book Journey to Mount Tamplais, in which “To perceive is to be both objective and subjective. It is to be in the process of becoming one with whatever it is, while also becoming separate from it.”
At end, you have an author who is asking readers to construct the warfare in Lebanon beyond their comforts, beyond their cultural lens, beyond their cultural gaze, beyond practiced and learned objectivity.
In many ways, the use of the sun is in concert with the idea of an epicenter within the cosmos. This is perfectly appropriate as we receive imagery of Moses as a yellow sun (p. 17), as Syrian and Israeli sentiments help to fuel opposition within Lebanon.
The yellow sun is also an allusion to irradiated atoms that form constructed matter, which can construct destruction too, most often depicted in people who offer ideologies to hurt one another— believing they are the epicenter too (pg. 25).
October 2, 2017
'On the brink of unintelligible' is the way one might describe this text. To be perfectly honest if I were not obliged to continue reading this work I would have almost certainly stopped after the very first page, if I'd even made it that far.
However, upon delving further into Adnan's glyph-poetry, it becomes clear that the author does, in fact, have an incredible grasp on language and the acute knowledge of what imagery will most affect her readers. I found myself almost lulled into a sense of comfort by the nonsensical passage of words and symbols on the page, practically glossing over them when all at once I would read a line so startling I was forced to pause and imagine, in my own mental fabrication, what exactly those scenes would look like. It was exactly those soft explosions catching my attention that caused me to become more engrossed in deriving a singular, distinct plot line, and, consequently, caused me to grow more and more lost with each page.
As mentioned earlier, Adnan's command of the language makes me wonder whether the text would have been more effective as a piece of prose, yet the schizophrenic way the glyphs appear, slapped on the page like tiny, disruptive bombs, evoked for me a sense of war on the reader. It was utter chaos and when the dust cleared for a few moments at a time it was only to reveal a harrowing scene of human suffering, just long enough before jumping right back in to the unintelligible.
The poetry is, of course, unconventional, but to a surprising extent the author does manage to evoke the conventional visceral reaction that is to be expected from individuals reading about war. Were it not for the sickeningly memorable lines such as "the sun cut their toes and told the Palestinians: this is your dinner" (65) and "We are all future corpses" (64), this book just might have ended up back at the bookstore.
However, upon delving further into Adnan's glyph-poetry, it becomes clear that the author does, in fact, have an incredible grasp on language and the acute knowledge of what imagery will most affect her readers. I found myself almost lulled into a sense of comfort by the nonsensical passage of words and symbols on the page, practically glossing over them when all at once I would read a line so startling I was forced to pause and imagine, in my own mental fabrication, what exactly those scenes would look like. It was exactly those soft explosions catching my attention that caused me to become more engrossed in deriving a singular, distinct plot line, and, consequently, caused me to grow more and more lost with each page.
As mentioned earlier, Adnan's command of the language makes me wonder whether the text would have been more effective as a piece of prose, yet the schizophrenic way the glyphs appear, slapped on the page like tiny, disruptive bombs, evoked for me a sense of war on the reader. It was utter chaos and when the dust cleared for a few moments at a time it was only to reveal a harrowing scene of human suffering, just long enough before jumping right back in to the unintelligible.
The poetry is, of course, unconventional, but to a surprising extent the author does manage to evoke the conventional visceral reaction that is to be expected from individuals reading about war. Were it not for the sickeningly memorable lines such as "the sun cut their toes and told the Palestinians: this is your dinner" (65) and "We are all future corpses" (64), this book just might have ended up back at the bookstore.
October 3, 2017
Reading without understanding. Knowing without knowledge. If I continue making up platitudes, I’m sure something will stick that appropriately describes The Arab Apocalypse’s unique phenomenology. In the Hollywood sci-fi blockbuster Arrival, the two main characters are asked to decipher an alien language built on symbols. In understanding the language, the characters rewire their brains to conceive of time outside of anglo-saxon (?) linearity, which more or less ‘solves’ the language and concludes the movie. Nonesuch resolution waits for us, here, reading t.A.A. However, through reading the text and examining it is an object, we can, if only momentarily (i.e. while interfacing w/ this object), begin to shift our understanding of a text, textual objects, language.
In viewing the text as an object I can do the following, in variant and recurring orders: hold the text; smell the text; read one page; look at the cover; read a different page; look at the first page; place the text over my face like a mask; flip through the book’s pages, watch text fly by; skip certain words; skip certain pages; examine the book’s orange cover with black text, look at the calendar, think about pumpkin pie; et cetera, et cetera, ho-hum.
Apocalypses have a finality and explosion to them. At times this text feels like an explosion, a big-bang of interpretation and knowing, different planets, stars, systems of knowing. The initial chaos of the text eventually enables a quietude within that chaos, at least for me. Part of me feels guilty for feeling at home in a text that’s predicated on chaos, or appears to be.
In viewing the text as an object I can do the following, in variant and recurring orders: hold the text; smell the text; read one page; look at the cover; read a different page; look at the first page; place the text over my face like a mask; flip through the book’s pages, watch text fly by; skip certain words; skip certain pages; examine the book’s orange cover with black text, look at the calendar, think about pumpkin pie; et cetera, et cetera, ho-hum.
Apocalypses have a finality and explosion to them. At times this text feels like an explosion, a big-bang of interpretation and knowing, different planets, stars, systems of knowing. The initial chaos of the text eventually enables a quietude within that chaos, at least for me. Part of me feels guilty for feeling at home in a text that’s predicated on chaos, or appears to be.
October 2, 2017
I am not a stranger to poetry, but I’m not entirely sure what Etel Adnan was trying to accomplish with her poetry book The Arab Apocalypse. Perhaps it is because I’m not Arabic. Perhaps it is because I’ve never directly dealt with war or suffering. Maybe, as an American and a white person, my privilege, (which I fully recognize), hinders me from seeing through the eyes of one who has truly known hardship. But I believe that poetry should speak to people on a universal level.
That being said, I do recognize certain elements of the craft which Adnan achieved. This is a great example of form mimicking content, as there is never a straightforward narrative or story, and the lines and words all seem chaotic in nature. This is true even down to the black symbols and illustrations on the pages.
Those very symbols are what made me weary of the form. Personally, I’m not a fan of anything that seems “gimmicky” when it comes to the structure and form of poetry. I believe that traditional stanzas, couplets, tercets, quatrains, etc. are usually apt at creating tension or other feelings, and resorting to seemingly extraneous symbols takes away the power that words and form hold alone. I think the beauty of poetry is in the word choices alone, and poets concentrate on every word and placement to hold meaning.
To fully appreciate this book, I would love to know the opinions of those who it has affected personally. I want the text broken down to me in fragments that I can try to comprehend.
That being said, I do recognize certain elements of the craft which Adnan achieved. This is a great example of form mimicking content, as there is never a straightforward narrative or story, and the lines and words all seem chaotic in nature. This is true even down to the black symbols and illustrations on the pages.
Those very symbols are what made me weary of the form. Personally, I’m not a fan of anything that seems “gimmicky” when it comes to the structure and form of poetry. I believe that traditional stanzas, couplets, tercets, quatrains, etc. are usually apt at creating tension or other feelings, and resorting to seemingly extraneous symbols takes away the power that words and form hold alone. I think the beauty of poetry is in the word choices alone, and poets concentrate on every word and placement to hold meaning.
To fully appreciate this book, I would love to know the opinions of those who it has affected personally. I want the text broken down to me in fragments that I can try to comprehend.
September 28, 2024
The Arab Apocalypse is a powerful and haunting exploration of the Arab world and its tumultuous history. This collection of prose poems and essays offers a unique perspective on the region's struggles, triumphs, and enduring spirit. Adnan's writing is characterized by its lyrical beauty and its unflinching honesty. She delves into a wide range of topics, from the Palestinian-Israeli conflict to the rise of extremist ideologies. Her prose is both poetic and incisive, capable of conveying complex ideas with clarity and grace.
One of the strengths of The Arab Apocalypse is Adnan's ability to capture the essence of the Arab experience. She writes about the region's rich cultural heritage, its deep-rooted traditions, and its enduring resilience in the face of adversity. Her writing is infused with a sense of empathy and compassion, as she seeks to understand the motivations and experiences of the people she writes about.
Another notable aspect of the book is its visual component. Adnan's prose poems are often accompanied by her own drawings and paintings. These images complement the textual content, adding depth and complexity to the overall work.
In conclusion, The Arab Apocalypse is a powerful and thought-provoking exploration of the Arab world. Adnan's writing is both lyrical and insightful, offering a unique perspective on the region's history, culture, and struggles. This book is essential reading for anyone interested in understanding the complexities of the Arab experience.
One of the strengths of The Arab Apocalypse is Adnan's ability to capture the essence of the Arab experience. She writes about the region's rich cultural heritage, its deep-rooted traditions, and its enduring resilience in the face of adversity. Her writing is infused with a sense of empathy and compassion, as she seeks to understand the motivations and experiences of the people she writes about.
Another notable aspect of the book is its visual component. Adnan's prose poems are often accompanied by her own drawings and paintings. These images complement the textual content, adding depth and complexity to the overall work.
In conclusion, The Arab Apocalypse is a powerful and thought-provoking exploration of the Arab world. Adnan's writing is both lyrical and insightful, offering a unique perspective on the region's history, culture, and struggles. This book is essential reading for anyone interested in understanding the complexities of the Arab experience.
October 3, 2017
The Arab Apocalypse is a collection of 59 poems that center around the sun and the Lebanese Civil War. The lines are highly fragmented in terms of spacing, the use of glyphs, and subject changes that are not marked by traditional punctuation.
As Etel Adnan is also a visual artist, I think that one of the most important parts of the book is the sense of subjectivity that each reader brings to it. The text itself is non-linear and it essentially jumps from one image to the next with more of a goal to create impressions than describe specific events: "sun spinning top incredibly spinning instead of our eyes" (39). Interspersed throughout the text are often (seemingly) random spaces, which are sometimes accompanied by glyphs. The glyphs themselves are varied; some of them are ancient symbols that have been used throughout various cultures while others seem to be symbols that Adnan created. Both of those elements lend to a very open interpretation of the text as a whole.
As a commentary on the Lebanese Civil War, I did not get much from the text because of its non-linear nature. However, as an exercise in form and structure, the poems were interesting and thought-provoking. I think that most writers want to guide readers' thinking more than Adnan does in Arab Apocalypse, especially about such a serious topic. But in ceding control, the book allows the reader to make their own meaning and interact with the images in the way that will make the most impact for them.
As Etel Adnan is also a visual artist, I think that one of the most important parts of the book is the sense of subjectivity that each reader brings to it. The text itself is non-linear and it essentially jumps from one image to the next with more of a goal to create impressions than describe specific events: "sun spinning top incredibly spinning instead of our eyes" (39). Interspersed throughout the text are often (seemingly) random spaces, which are sometimes accompanied by glyphs. The glyphs themselves are varied; some of them are ancient symbols that have been used throughout various cultures while others seem to be symbols that Adnan created. Both of those elements lend to a very open interpretation of the text as a whole.
As a commentary on the Lebanese Civil War, I did not get much from the text because of its non-linear nature. However, as an exercise in form and structure, the poems were interesting and thought-provoking. I think that most writers want to guide readers' thinking more than Adnan does in Arab Apocalypse, especially about such a serious topic. But in ceding control, the book allows the reader to make their own meaning and interact with the images in the way that will make the most impact for them.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 1, 2017
Coming from someone who generally stays away from poetry I really enjoyed this. A lot of it (or should I say all?) does not make any sense to me, but I think that's what makes this good and unique. There's an element and I'm not sure if it is the way in which everything is kind of scattered with no organization, or the symbols on the pages, but something about it feels organic and authentic which I liked.
This book isn't trying to be anything other than what it is which in my opinion is authentic. I took the disorganization of the book and poetry to mimic the way in which our brains and thoughts work in situations of high stress. When reading this I got the idea of it being like war and how people don't think they just go on instinct in order to survive. I don't know if I'm wrong in that reading of this, but that was how I took it.
Again I don't read much poetry, but the authenticity in this book really got a hold of me in a way that I'm still trying to figure out even after finish it.
This book isn't trying to be anything other than what it is which in my opinion is authentic. I took the disorganization of the book and poetry to mimic the way in which our brains and thoughts work in situations of high stress. When reading this I got the idea of it being like war and how people don't think they just go on instinct in order to survive. I don't know if I'm wrong in that reading of this, but that was how I took it.
Again I don't read much poetry, but the authenticity in this book really got a hold of me in a way that I'm still trying to figure out even after finish it.
October 2, 2017
I will be honest. This is the type of poetry that I struggle with. It's very abstract at first, and doesn't giver you more than some imagery through brief phrases. Not only that, but you have glyphs to contend with on the page, which constantly draw your eye to them, but do not always have apparent meaning. The first half of the book is really hard to get through. In most of the poems, you only get a phrase or two that really tells you anything about the events that Adnan is describing. But if you can stick through the first half of the book, you should start to grasp Adnan's meaning.
For the last half of the book, the glyphs are fewer, the syntax clearer, as the conflict begins to grow in Lebanon. It is still a mess, but an intentional one, a mess that puts you into the state of mind of the narrator(s). It really starts to feel like a catastrophe is happening, and the pace picks up in accordance to that. There really are some beautiful phrases nestled into this book, but it takes some work to get there.
For the last half of the book, the glyphs are fewer, the syntax clearer, as the conflict begins to grow in Lebanon. It is still a mess, but an intentional one, a mess that puts you into the state of mind of the narrator(s). It really starts to feel like a catastrophe is happening, and the pace picks up in accordance to that. There really are some beautiful phrases nestled into this book, but it takes some work to get there.
October 2, 2017
This book challenges the reader to a) easily access the text and b) make meaning of the collection of words and symbols found on the page. In instances where meaning is not readily available, the mind–or at least mine–grabs for patterns to try and puzzle out what is important, or at least what is being repeated. The patterns in this text reveal themselves to focus on themes, people, and places of oppression. The natural world is incited to frame the multiple planes into which Adnan launches. I wanted to be able to sit with each poem for at least ten to thirty minutes, to tease it out and admire each line and phrase. Instead, because of the format of this manuscript, I found myself inundated with these beautiful words and phrases.
October 1, 2017
Annotations
A sun is yellow, green, red, blue. A sun is floral. I don't know what anything on the first page means. I don't know what 90% of the poetry means.
Most of it seems like a perpetual list, a sense of never ending chaos. Once I read a page the one before it is completely forgotten since I can't keep up with it.
First person point of view introduced on page 11. Father mentioned on 15. Beirut grounds the reader with a location. War is here.
"The Arabs' sun is a perennial atom bomb drinking milk..." (52).
One fish two fish red fish blue fish.
A sun is yellow, green, red, blue. A sun is floral. I don't know what anything on the first page means. I don't know what 90% of the poetry means.
Most of it seems like a perpetual list, a sense of never ending chaos. Once I read a page the one before it is completely forgotten since I can't keep up with it.
First person point of view introduced on page 11. Father mentioned on 15. Beirut grounds the reader with a location. War is here.
"The Arabs' sun is a perennial atom bomb drinking milk..." (52).
One fish two fish red fish blue fish.
May 12, 2024
Humanity has reached outer space without understanding itself to be part of it, and investing billions of dollars on inflicting pain to others, killing, and destroying countries, particularly Arab countries, which are under the same old sun that keeps shining regarding the systematic effort put on hate and destruction in the removal of paradise. Etel Adnan’s The Arab Apocalypse shows this frustration.
June 14, 2024
Arabs are dancing in the dust ---- DOUM !
the Tribe is delirious
the yellow sun children's toy in the shanty-towns is eating the sea
Each bullet is a ball planted in the brain --- YES !
Light comes on horse-back crosses the desert bathes the city
there is a paradise inside the yelow sun towards which the refugee is walking
There is a refuge only in death there is no refuge but in fire
the Tribe is delirious
the yellow sun children's toy in the shanty-towns is eating the sea
Each bullet is a ball planted in the brain --- YES !
Light comes on horse-back crosses the desert bathes the city
there is a paradise inside the yelow sun towards which the refugee is walking
There is a refuge only in death there is no refuge but in fire
June 20, 2024
WAR WITH NO REVOLUTION
"I planted an Arab in the centre of the sun like a fig tree"
"The sun unites the Arabs against the Arabs"
"The sun is an eternal wind which became insane the morning of its first love"
"I planted the sun in the middle of the sky like a flag"
"A young man and his beloved die hand in hand...they sleep together on their bed riddled with bullets for ever! for ever!"
"Arabs are red roots bleeding on a concrete floor"
"I planted an Arab in the centre of the sun like a fig tree"
"The sun unites the Arabs against the Arabs"
"The sun is an eternal wind which became insane the morning of its first love"
"I planted the sun in the middle of the sky like a flag"
"A young man and his beloved die hand in hand...they sleep together on their bed riddled with bullets for ever! for ever!"
"Arabs are red roots bleeding on a concrete floor"
April 9, 2024
ootin tätä kirjastosta kuukausikaupalla ja oli sen arvosta! adnan kirjottaa niinku maalaa (tutustuin ja tyksätyin alunperin hänen töihinsä taidemuseossa). mulla meni varmasti iso osa viittauksista täysin ohi, mutta tunne kyllä välitty.
December 6, 2023
a masterpiece <3
February 18, 2024
breathtaking, terrifying, surreal
Read
June 3, 2024This was hard work. Some very interesting ideas, but it is experimental, surrealist poetry.
October 8, 2024
i have become a thousand flickering lights ok
October 30, 2024
I wish my brain worked this way
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