"Youth literature" in Iraq: A kiss of death to any author

Old v new

Haider Kamad, a poet, often finds himself confused; in his eyes, there are no clear criteria that divide authors, whether by age or artistic merit.

"I have the right to ask questions about the upper limit at which a writer is considered young or not. And what comes after the 'young poet' stage? What do we call a person who has passed the stage of youth? Sometimes it seems to me that this is an arbitrary and temperamental partition aimed at keeping young writers to the side," says Kamed.

He also argues that the reduction of an author's worth to their age is something that contradicts historical achievements.

"If we use age-based descriptions when considering creativity, we could say that Al-Siab was a young poet, as he died before the age of forty. The same applies to the French poet Rimbaud," he says.

"How do we classify a poet like Rimbaud? And what do we call a poet like Duraid Bin al-Samma, who lived more than one hundred years? How do we view their creativity through a lens as vague as age?"

Root causes

Kamed, who authored the poetry collection, Effluent Mud, says that these misconceptions about young authors are passed down through generations. He adds that there are two potential root causes.

The first is that every generation is afraid of the generation that comes after it. The new generation (no matter the era) can have more resonance with current-day readers and overshadow older writers.

The second is simple: older writers underestimate younger writers, reducing them to the mistakes they might have made at the beginning of their careers.

"Our culture is plagued by the first impression complex. An author's first book, with any shortcomings or errors it may hold, will stick to them. No one will bother reading their new work or tracking their growth and evolution," he says.

Kamad says that a pattern may be repeating itself here.

"It is not entirely inconceivable that today's culturally established names, who treat young writers with neglect or condescension, have suffered from the (same) neglect, rejection, and disregard by generations before them," he says.

"They were not born directly as elders and seniors. They inherited a legacy from another generation. Creativity has nothing to do with age. The audience will enjoy the poem or work of art and will not wonder about the age of its creator, whether young, middle-aged, or old," he adds.

Arab perspective

Plastic artist Baqer Majid finds this ageism in the creative field is largely limited to the Arab region.

Meanwhile, other cultures (both in ancient and modern times) appreciate art independent of the years of experience behind it.

"Nobody considered Arthur Rimbaud, who was a young poet at the age of seventeen, a 'poet project,' and no one paid attention to his age. His texts were treated as if they would change French poetry – and world poetry – forever," he says.

"The same applies to a young Pablo Picasso and his immense influence on the course of modern art. The artist Jean-Michel Basquiat, who worked and died at just 28, is still influential to this day."

Majid says there are modern examples, too, both in literature and the arts.

"But things are different in this part of the world. The work of young people is not taken seriously," he says.

Majid points out that modern Iraqi art only goes back about 120 years. Even though its pioneers started their journeys in their twenties, people tend to forget that once upon a time, they were fresh-faced artists, too.

Instead, they see them only as respected elders, turning them into legends and glorifying their work and lives.

"Even today, the art scene is still enthusiastic about the circulation of a work by a pioneer artist as soon as it appears. Meantime, new and emerging works are neither circulated nor mentioned," says Majid.

"Some are much more profound and modern than their predecessors. However, they are overlooked because they are 'young.' We always want the old thing."

'Cultural violence'

The poet Hussein Hillel believes that this failure to objectively assess a younger artist's merit can "disturb and poison" creativity and can be classified as "cultural violence".

"It damages the psychological and physical balance of the poet and threatens his creative life. This is an attempt by the cultural elders to deceptively control new energies so that they become the reference points for them. This situation leads to a growing feeling of inferiority and inadequacy in these younger poets."

Hillel mentions several examples of young authors who left a profound mark on Arabic (and world) literature.

"Imru' al-Qais died before he turned 45, leaving behind more than a hundred poems that are considered exceptionally daring. Similarly, Tarafa bin al-'Abd, a poet who captivated in his time, died before the age of 26, as did Amal Donqol, who passed away at the age of 43.

"Badr Shakir al-Sayyab, one of the most important figures of modernism, and the greatest pioneer of metered verse, died at the age of 38.

"The same goes for John Keats, Alexander Pushkin, Byron, and Lorca; they all died in their twenties and thirties. The list goes on."

Hillel, who has authored works such as Travel on a Broken Train, was the first prize winner in the 2023 Youth Literature competition organised by the Union of Iraqi Writers.

"There should be no distinction between a young poet and an older one; a distinction should only be made between a significant text and a simplistic one. This should be the basis of literary governance," he says.

Transcending time

Poet Ihsan Al-Madani suggests that for creative work to have a meaningful impact, it needs to transcend time, connecting the past to the future.

She believes that modern writers are more conscious of how literature is often confined by established norms and previous literary offerings, which have monopolised the industry.

Trying to fit into these predetermined moulds can be tiring, diminish the value of their work, and take them in unintended directions.

"In creative work, there is a hidden energy, which often protects the writer from expectations of recognition, praise or acknowledgement by prestigious critics. A poet can write for the sake of writing … bypassing critics and the like."