Assia Djebar Books

Far from Medina is an absolutely unique book. Picking up where the reputed historians of the time left off, Djebar fills out the female characters in the first community of Islam and in the stories of the Qu'ran. Through her imaginative and soulful writing, important female figures like Fatima, Aisha and Hajar are given voices.

The fact that this text stays close to the historical events that are accounted adds to the meaningfulness of the work. The dimensions of these remarkable women are fleshed out in some of the most important moments of Islamic lore. This is especially valuable for women who are exploring Islam - or for that matter - anyone interested in the feminine side of Islam.

I don't know a book out there that is like this one - and it seems quite unique compared to Djebar's other work. I waited forever to get my hands on another copy. You can usually obtain this book through university libraries.

Djebar has artfully created a uniquely Islamic "ecriture feminine" that revises and revisits early Islamic herstory. Far from Medina was recently adapted as an opera in Europe with Djebar writing the libretto; unfortunately they had a difficult time casting due to Rushdie-esque fears of fundamentalist reprisals.

This book is written by 4-time nobel prize nominated author Assia Djebar, who combines the wonderful poetic tradition of her native Algerian Arabic in a story translated from the French, that not only gives us a picture of modern Algerian women and what their lives can be like, but has literary allusions that pervade through out (though they may not be obvious to all readers). Regardless of how literary a person may be, this story has an ending that is completely unpredictable and yet completes this story and connects the literary themes employed exquisitely.
Does it help to be familiar with Algerian history and Arabic tradition? Absolutely, but is not necessary.

Is it a feminist book? Yes.

Is it controversial? Djebar has received death threats and has been exiled from her own country.

Will Djebar win the Nobel Prize? I think so, eventually.

Is it a good read? Well, other than the fact that the prose is so beautiful it flows like honey, that's for you to decide.

Enjoy this book, but don't expect it to be anything even close to ordinary.
W.M.

Djebar's first work to be published simultaneously in French and English in Paris and London, attesting to her global reputation as a post-colonial writer. It would seem that the stronger feminist message in this work resulted in a stereotyped approach to women in Algeria, although Djebar also subverted these Western preconceptions by indicating that modern women suffer from their own gendered problems.

I thought this book was pretty good. It is a story that follows two women, both wives of the same man. When Hajila sees an "unveiled woman," she too, wants a life "beyond the veil." This book does a good job of describing some of the traditional restraints placed on these women, and how they work to escape them.

This was my first book by an Algerian author. I found it, hard to say, kind of impressionistic writing, where subjective feelings and thoughts that occur at the spur of the moment count more than actual description. The main characters appear in the story as "I" and "you" and "the man". This no-name-man was married to both women, and the only time he appears in the story is when he calls on the wife to come to bed. The women, meanwhile, are described wandering aimlessly in the town, pondering to take off the veil or not, or worrying about her child who is with the other woman now. I kept waiting for something to happen, for some solution in the hardly existing plot,but... The whole book left me feeling uncomfortable and empty, maybe this was the intention of the author. Anyway, I think, I will stick to Fatima Mernissi in future, much more human and entertaining too.

About life in front of and behind the veil, this book presents a compelling read: the body becomes the battleground for men and women to take ownership of their own bodies, and in some ways, consequently their own minds. I was considering this book for a world literature class, but the sex scenes are a little risque for 10th grade. However, those scenes are not gratutious--they have their place in this book. Perhaps, however, not for 15 year olds, just yet. Djebar writes the book in both first person narrative and directive narrative (second person)--what results is that we're inside the head of one woman and the commanding voyeur with the other. Djebar makes us uncomfortable looking in and directing a woman who clearly wants to escape such structures. What we're left with is an uncomfortable with our positions, but the wiser for having become uncomfortable. A great read! Well worth it.

A friend of mine once said that this was her all-time favorite book in French, and though that might seem a bit hyperbolic, I've come to consider it as one of my favorites as well (in fact, I ended up writing my Master's thesis on it, 100 pages, all in French, about this book alone!). The English translation does lack something, so if you can read French, by all means read the original, "L'amour, la fantasia". Djebar is a fascinating person- writer, scholar, and award-winning filmmaker- and this is arguably her best novel. Wrestling a voice for herself from the colonizer's language (French), she also struggles with the cultural implications of "unveiling" herself through that same language to a primarily foreign audience. Her innovative approach to this problematic is to structure her novel like a musical piece (a "fantasia") with various "movements" (chapters alternating between her own autobiography, the history of the fight for control of Algeria, and the "voices" of illiterate women whose stories she's translated and transcribed). The "fantasia" is also a traditional North African equestrian ceremony, in which men parade their horses before going off to battle, and in which women participate on the sidelines, as it were, cheering on the men by ululating. Without giving away the full implications of this double analogy (and hence some key elements of the story), the "fantasia" takes the form, generally, of both the means by which some Algerian woman are able to speak, as well as that of their traditional marginalization in the patriarchal society of Algeria. Musicality, orality, and the written word blend in this highly original work to portray the author's fragmented sense of self, and the final product is rendered in a beautiful prose. If you're interested in sampling some of the finest writing by any French-speaking author today, or are fascinated by these kinds of postcolonial aesthetic problematics, read this book! It's a classic!

This is the first novel written by an Algerian, man or woman, that I have ever read. I suspect that could be true for many readers. As a new voice in my world of literature, then, it's an important book. I saw FANTASIA as a kaleidescope, though, always producing patterns and colors, always arranged, but not always understandable. I found it very hard to judge this work because it has many facets, like a shifted kaleidescope.

***** Five stars for the idea or conception of the novel, for language (if it is well-translated), for the whole effort of bringing a woman's perspective on colonialism, on revolutionary struggle, and on tradition. Djebar is obsessed with the "word", especially the written word and its strength. "The word is a torch; to be held up in front of the wall of separation or withdrawal..." Words preserve and pass on memories, tragedies, pain, love and lack of love. Words hold the keys to Algeria's past, the world shattered by the French invasion and conquest of the mid-19th century, when 25 years of war ruined the country. But the French conquerers wrote of it, much more than the Algerian defenders. Their words must be mined for the reality, we must forge the Algerian view from the 'ore'. Words again unite the Algerian women and men who fought France in the 1950s. But those very French words, the language of the conquerers and destroyers, are used to pass on here, in this novel, the very heartfelt, most intimate emotions of the author. She speaks of this. Perhaps silence is more powerful, implying resistance. "Writing does not silence the voice, but awakens it, above all to resurrect so many vanished sisters." Those are the sisters who didn't know French, who could not speak out from their cloistered existence.

****For bringing Algerian history to life from an Algerian perspective, and an Algerian woman's view at that, a woman who, through an educated father and schooling escaped the enclosed future that awaited her. The struggle, the never-ending resistance to the occupation of their land.

***The plot of a novel is a fishing line with some attractive hooks for catching readers. If this line is broken too often, no fish can be caught. The novel becomes a collection of beautiful fragments, leaving the reader to imagine what it could be if it were all joined somehow. FANTASIA suffers from a too intricate sub-division of the voices. It is a layered approach, the conflict between two worlds---a conflict that entered even into the author's soul--- it is effective poetically, but not as prose....we lose track of who is saying what, who is related to whom, where everyone fits in. Overall Djebar reaches us, but the novel has an abstract quality that does not emotionally involve us much with any characters.

I bought this book hoping to find info about the algerian writers mentioned on the back cover, what I found was more interesting.. detailed info about the turbulance in algeria, personal experiences,stories and very important history of a sister country our arab jounalism failed to report and/or bring to us. I was happy to have bought the book.

Assia Djebar's third novel is a transition to a work that served the Algerian nationalist cause but retained her romantic tone. The Afterward by Clarisse Zimra including interview with Djebar is invaluable.

Ruth Roded

I have mixed feelings about So Vast the Prison. Some of it is speedy, compelling reading and some is obfuscating malarkey. I find it difficult to decipher exactly what her objective is and I was never convinced that she herself knew. As someone interested in the varied culture of the Middle East, I did not regret the few hours I spent reading it, but I'm sure there is much better material out there.

So vast the Prison is indeed just that: a prison! the writing is so boring and confining. this book however does act as a great sleep aid, everytime i just held the book i fell asleep! save your money, but more importantly your valuable time; no one really cares about this topic anyway.

This book is a waste of paper. It is extremely hard to follow and it actually puts me to sleep when I read it.

I read the book without knowing what the subject would be. I was happy to find the same style Assia Djebar has acustomed us with. True I didn't see myself in the main character but I could see Algerian women of pre and post-revolution, mostly the city women. I don't think that this book gives a picture of another culture like the previous previewer was hoping to find. Also, the book was translated from French. I would recommend this book to anyone who is interested in reading about an Algeria that is not darkened by the stereotype of today, fundamentalist, terrorist...

A somewhat difficult book to read, unless one is familiar with the French post-modernist style (Derrida, Cixous) however well worth the effort. This is an ambitious book that explores the power-relationships between men and women, husbands and wives, colonists and colonized, French and Arabs, Arabs and Berbers as well as the power implicit within spoken and written language, using a poetic, somewhat cinematic style (Djebar is also a film-maker)that meanders between what is apparently a semi-autobiographical narrative and (somewhat)straightforward historical writing, focusing on both modern and ancient Algeria.
This is not a book that one can skim through and still understand: however the end result is insightful and haunting and leaves one wishing for more.