In the Presence of Mahmoud Shukair

“This is the fourth or fifth time I have established a private library; all the previous personal libraries disappeared the same moment I left the place,’ he tells me. He is referring to nearly two decades of exile from Jerusalem, when he was forced to live in Amman, Prague, and other foreign cities before he was finally allowed by Israel to return to Jerusalem with the signing of the Oslo Accords in the mid-1990s.

“In every place, I collected hundreds, even thousands of books. I am a voracious reader; every letter tells me a story, and every paragraph is a novel to me.” His talk flows like water in a small stream in the middle of a green forest, full of optimism and love. He is also a good listener who is patient and gives advice if needed.

His face was suffused with happiness as he held a Turkish translation of his book The Ceilings of Desire, published by Bab El Amud Publishing and Distribution House in Istanbul, the first of his books translated to Turkish. He held it as if it were his first book, but in fact he has written more than 70 books, many of which have been translated from Arabic into more than 10 languages.

An award-winning author, he has a distinctive writing style and is considered a pioneer of the short (and very short) story form. He has written several children’s books and scripts for the theater. His love for books and writing is indescribable and arouses envy as well as admiration.

In the corner of the library sits his modest desk; on it, sits his computer. He considers it to be a great blessing, because it has helped increase his literary production. He says:

These days, he finds he cannot sit for long in front of his computer; he is getting older and sitting in front of a computer screen causes eye and hand strain, not to mention back pain. He tells me: “I do not want to stop writing even for an hour, so I have stopped traveling and participating in literary and cultural celebrations and meetings. I have grown old, my friend, and I can no longer bear travel and its hardships. I find that travel distances me from writing as it distances me from Jerusalem, which I love.”

In true Jerusalem fashion, he insists that we have lunch together, claiming that lunch is part of our meeting. He assures me that he has more work that will soon be published. I admire his desire to write and document Jerusalem (which he spoke about in an interview with the Omani newspaper al-Watan in 2021) and wish I could feel even a fraction of his enthusiasm for the task.

“This place has a large space in my stories and novels; I remain drawn to Jerusalem no matter how far I go,” he tells me. “Jerusalem is now being Judaized and Israelized,” he continues.

He bid me farewell with the same generosity of spirit with which he welcomed me when I arrived.