شريك لنون منذ
5+ سنينالناشر | The University Book Shop - Abu Dhabi |
رقم الكتاب المعياري الدولي 13 | 9786140115446 |
رقم الكتاب المعياري الدولي 10 | 6140115442 |
اللغة | العربية |
تنسيق الكتاب | غلاف ورقي |
Language | العربية |
وصف الكتاب | After liberating himself through writing in "The Prisoner of Mirrors" and posing the question of identity in "The Bamboo Stalk," he now returns to us in "My Mother's Mice," taking us through history and geography. He stands as a "talking" narrator, stripped of his mask, piercing borders, shattering mirrors, and breaking taboos. Here in this novel, Saud Alsanousi writes about the past and present of Arabs, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he predicts their future after they have handed over their keys, leaving us with the question: What comes next? The events of the novel take place in the Arabian Gulf region, spanning from the 1970s to a hypothetical future in 2020, addressing the Kuwaiti society in its social and political transformations. Within a narrative framework, the author offers a (social-political) approach that could serve as a critical document of events experienced in the Arabian Gulf region throughout its modern history, starting from the Iranian Revolution, passing through the Iran-Iraq War, then the Gulf War (Iraq and Kuwait), followed by the fall of Baghdad at the hands of American forces in 2003, and moving on to the current Arab revolutions. The story revolves around the lives of three boys who are friends and neighbors with different religious sects, providing a narrative that will shape their relationships and alter their affiliations in ways contrary to their upbringing, according to each phase. Alsanousi accomplishes this through the character of the narrator, who is a partial partner and always a witness, alongside other characters that complement the events and the realities that will lead to tragic conclusions in an inevitable virtual future. In our present, more than one scene unfolds. From the atmosphere of the novel: "Behind this wall, we had a life brimming with vitality. Oh! Only childhood memory is etched in consciousness, and every other memory is fleeting. I feel myself, in front of the house wall, as a child in my youth. The wall was much lower than what I see now. Half of it, or less. A new color hints at the newness of its upper part, bearing witness to the transformation of a time that was before and after. The winter Friday mornings, especially, were the most we wished for, my friends, Sadiq, Fahd, and I. Uncle Saleh's yard, Fahd's father, was our little paradise. I would love to push the door open, but fear. Damn its dominance. In distant years, I would fall, in a repetitious role, stretching my small hands through the horizontal gap under the door to manipulate the iron latch fixed in a ground hole. I stand upright. I easily push the door wide open. Today, see how many latches, locks, and chains are behind this door." |
تاريخ النشر | 42059 |
عدد الصفحات | 440 |
فئة أمي الكتلة - غلاف ورقي عربي للسنوسي غلاف ورقي العربية - 42059