Rabai al-Madhouns novel, The Lady from Tel Aviv (shortlisted for the International Prize for

Arabic Fiction), articulates several human experiences: displacement, homecoming, family

reunion, heritage, romance, warfare, terror, and cultural barriers. It is a short novel, but in its few
pages it has quite a bit to say about all of these subjects.

Essentially, the novel follows a London-dwelling (but Palestinian-born) journalist, Walid, as he

visits Palestine for the first time in nearly forty years. The first two sections of the book (which
comprise a sizeable, 50+ page chunk, and are relayed by a third person narrator) frame Walids
eventual situation as an exile. In these sections the reader is given background information about
Walids childhood situation in Palestine, and his intricate relationship with his homeland and the
people in it. The details here work to help us feel closer to the character he becomes later, when
he is about to return to his family, and friends.

When that moment of return and reunion approaches, the narrator switches from third person to
first person, and all of a sudden, Walid is telling us his own story as he navigates an airport,
preparing to venture from London to Palestine. He experiences a plethora of conflicting
emotions; relief, anxiety, and anticipation are the most prominent and taxing of them all.
Because of the narrative work the first narrator performed, by this point, we already feel a
sympathy for and closeness to Walid as he begins his journey.

Walids anxiety grows as he maneuvers through the airport. But he is not only anxious about the
logistics of making the flight; he is especially nervous when he realizes his airplane seat
assignment is next to a beautiful woman, who also happens to be an Israeli actress. This moment
functions as a metaphor of one of the driving ideas of the novel: the examination of how two
different people cohabit the same space. An Israeli and a Palestinian. A famous person and a
normal person. A woman and a man. One house that has two shadows, as al-Madhoun puts it.

They have an awkward interaction on the plane, characterized by sweet, self-conscious, polite
behavior from Walid and an inquisitive friendliness from Dana, the Israeli actress. The moment
is slightly tense, and understandably so, but it is ultimately overwhelmed by a mutual kindness
struck between the two seatmates, who make loose plans to keep in contact via email, if only to
ascertain the others safe arrival in their respective locations.

On the ground and away from Dana, Walid finds himself in an unbelievably stressful situation
while trying to navigate the war-torn territory and get to his family in Gaza. Before he gets
home, he is detained for hours when there is an attempted-but-failed suicide bombing. When he
does eventually make it to his family, the reunion is a truly heartwarming one, and the rest of his
stay is filled with interactions between himself and figures from his past. To say the least, these
interactions (and their respective discussions) definitely cause the reader to contemplate the
situation in Gaza. To be more specific, one of al-Madhouns most interesting accomplishments
in this novel is his artful and extensive portraiture of the people Walid runs into on his journey.
They are vividly brought to life, and their vividness helps the reader conceptualize, to an extent,
what living in Gaza can look like.

Al-Madhouns talent for rendering characters lies in his use of compelling sensory and
metaphorical avenues. For instance, Walids mother is not merely vocal, but a kind of radio
whose volume and frequency are difficult to modulate. His artistic use of imagery creates a
profound affective response in the imagination of the reader as s/he is exposed to the storys
fascinating and compelling descriptions of relationships (between both individuals and
communities). I think it is safe to say that this novel is propelled forward because of Walids
relationships with others. Every character is pivotal. Every one has an intentional purpose. They
are rich and engaging.

And while there are many reasons to read this book, and one of the best reasons is to find out
whether the connection between Walid and Dana ends when the plane ride does, or if it
continues. That is a core mystery and point of fascination of this book, in more ways than one.

Rabai al-Madhoun is a Palestinian-born author, journalist, and editor. His other works include
The Idiot of Khan Younis, The Taste of Separation, and The Palestinian Intifada. He currently
works in London as an editor for Al-Sharq Al-Awsat.

Kendall Parris is a PhD student in rhetoric and composition. While she mostly researches
multimodal pedagogies and affect studies in composition, she enjoys reading novels that explore
notions of heartache, relationship, and endurance.

Rabai Al-Madhouns The Lady from Tel Aviv is a meditation

on the experience of diasporic peoples and their often
complicated relationship to their homeland. It focuses on the
experience of Palestinian refugees and is based on Al-
Madhouns own experiences of being separated from his
home, and the subsequent emotional and cultural
dislocation. Ruba Asfahani met Al-Madhoun, who discussed
his work at the Shubbak Festival in London.
 Telegram Books

You are not in Palestine you are in Israel. Never forget it.
I will not forget it not even if I had been born on the very land where this airport now sits, not
even if they discovered my forefathers bones buried under this terminal. They will wink and
nod at my being British. Theyll even tell me how smart it is to be British.

One of the most captivating chapters of The Lady from Tel Aviv by Rabai Al-Madhoun comes at
a point where the main character, Walid Dahman, has finally arrived in Palestine after a thirty-
eight year hiatus. Walid was unable to return for many reasons, but the most important thing is
that he is going back. And hes nervous, excited, anxious and scared. In this novel, we are given
a short glimpse as to how complex the journey of a Palestinian returning to his homeland can
really be.
The Lady from Tel Aviv is a book within a book. Walid is a journalist and author (like Al-
Madhoun himself) who needs more inspiration for his next book about Adel El-Bashity, the
character who also wants to return to Palestine, but to find his long lost love. Its a commanding
tale and one that expresses flashes of wit, sorrow and reflection.

Al-Madhoun himself is a shy, quiet and reserved man. When we met, we mainly talked about his
personal story rather than the contents of his book. I was astonished to hear about what the man
had gone through, so much so that I was left without words by the end of his life story.

When he told me that his experiences in life are unique and that not many people have all these
experiences in one life, I thought that he was exaggerating and then he began. Born in al-
Majdal in Palestine in 1945, Al-Madhoun was made a refugee at the tender age of three. For
sixteen years he lived in the camp at Khan Younis and the first time he put a pair of shoes on, he
was the ripe old age of eleven. In 1956, he witnessed first-hand the slaughter of two hundred and
fifty people at Khan Younis and almost a decade later, he travelled to Egypt for his studies, three
months before the six-day war. At this point, I was astounded that someone had been through so
much but was discussing it so candidly.

Telegram Books

It turns out he has already published a memoir of sorts, but in Arabic. The Lady from Tel Aviv is
his first book published in English. Continuing, he tells me about how he was deported from
Egypt and went to Syria; from there he went to Jordan and witnessed Black September in 1970. I
wont go into detail as to the rest of his story as it would need its own essay but lets just say, it
involved him moving between Syria, Iraq, Lebanon, Cyprus and even Moscow, before he got to
London in 1993 where he has been residing ever since.
After meeting Al-Madhoun and hearing more about his life, The Lady from Tel Aviv takes on a
whole new meaning. In the book, I found myself sympathising with Walids character as one
who is naturally anxious to return to Palestine. He doesnt even know how he will feel; will he
want to stay or will he want to escape back to London as soon as he can? Walid is obviously
based on Al-Madhoun himself and as he reiterates, you cant take fiction too far from reality.

Al-Madhoun has a knack of truly drawing you into his story. From the humorous moment on a
London tube to the saddening instants where Walid is reunited with his childhood friend.

The Arabic edition of The Lady from Tel Aviv was published in 2009 with a limited run. It
became extremely popular, albeit with a limited few who called him a traitor, and to this day, Al-
Madhoun still communicates with his readers who wish to discuss it with him more. He even had
the chance to return to Palestine in 2010 for a number of events and then again last year where he
visited Ramallah for the first time and spoke at the Mahmoud Darwish theatre.
 Shubbak

I will be the first to admit that Im not an expert in literature, and even less of those in
translation, but after reading the book, my main issue was the title. The Lady from Tel Aviv
describes Danah Ahova whom Walid meets on the flight back to Palestine. What I couldnt
understand was why such a minor character (in my eyes) got the accolade of titling the book. But
after speaking to Al-Madhoun, it became clear; in Arabic, the setup of the book is different.
Walids character dominates the first section of the book; it is his thoughts, his experience. Then
in the second, we see it from Danahs point of view. I created alternate narrators and even used
the Hebrew language. I had three sections but in English it was changed to just have one
narrator.

It would have been interesting to have a direct translation and not change the layout completely.
Al-Madhoun specifically chose to include both aspects of the Israeli and Palestinian voices, but
in the English we have it all from Walids perspective. Having said that, The Lady from Tel Aviv
is a powerful novel. I found myself completely immersed into Walids life and his return to
Palestine. As a second generation Lebanese, I have witnessed my parents returning to their
homeland and being overwhelmed as they found it hard to recognise people or places. Having
been born in London, I am fortunate to not have to experience this but with Al-Madhouns
words, you will be incapable of escaping the deep-rooted and long-lasting emotional suffering
that the diasporic communities across the world have to go through.

By Ruba Asfahani

Ruba Asfahani is a specialist in Modern and Contemporary Arab Art. Having worked at
Sothebys in the Middle East Department for almost four years, and Artspace London as Art
Director for a year, she is currently managing events for The Arab British Centre before
embarking on her PhD in October 2013.
Palestinian writer Rabai Al-Madhoun was born in Al-Majdal, Ashkelon in 1945. Along with his
parents he was displaced during the 1948 ethnic cleansing of their homeland and spent his
childhood in the Khan Younis Palestinian refugee camp in the Gaza Strip; he is now settled in
London.

Such background information is important because the writer tells the story of Walid Dahman, a
Palestinian writer who is going home to Gaza after living in Britain for nearly four decades. This
mirrors his own story, giving the book a semi-autobiographical feel which comes across in his
words; we live every moment as he combines fact and fiction.

Walid returns to Gaza with his new British passport which, finally, allows him to travel; he is
excited to see his mother and the family and friends he left behind. On the flight from London,
he meets Dana, an Israeli actress on her way back to Tel Aviv; they soon discover the differences
in their ideas and perspectives of the land they both call home. Al-Madhoun takes us on Walid's
journey from London, to Ben Gurion Airport, to the Beit Hanoun/Erez Crossing, and into Gaza,
along with all of the complications, nostalgia, suffering and reunions involved.

The author has chosen the novel within a novel format, with his character Walid going to Gaza to
do some research for his story about an accountant in Germany who returns to Gaza to look for
the woman he fell in love with 30 years earlier. Although he didn't marry her their paths cross
when both find themselves single again. This gives the book more depth as Walid rediscovers
Gaza through the eyes of his character as well as his own.

The portrayal of a Palestinian's experience at the Israeli-controlled Beit Hanoun crossing is one
of the best parts of the book. I felt I was there with Walid, under the smouldering sun; I could
feel, smell and see the entire scene. He portrays what it is really like for people, not only
Palestinians, trying to enter the Gaza Strip, and this is something that news articles cannot
convey. I especially like the fact that he disproves the theory held by many people that it is easier
when you have a foreign, especially a US or British, passport; Al-Madhoun shows us that
ultimately, everyone suffers and all are treated equally badly. The so-called "VIP" treatment is
nothing but a delusion.

Although in literary terms I found the book to have many layers, to be beautifully written and to
have vibrant, descriptive prose, the open-ending was disappointing. Sadly, many of the sub-plots
were neither fully-fleshed out nor given closure. However, in all fairness, perhaps the open
ending is symbolic of the Palestinian situation, not least the "peace process" which always gives
people hope, but leaves them frustrated.

This book addresses the situation in Palestine, and gives us some insight into the lives of
Palestinians in the diaspora, as well as those still in occupied Palestine; the injustice, oppression
and tragedies are all there. It is a good introduction for those wanting to learn more about what
the Palestinians are experiencing, before looking for a more in-depth contextualisation of the
conflict.