Fawziyya Abu Khalid on navigating through life using poetry

Of course, the confrontation was fierce on a local and social level, though it was encouraging on a cultural level in both the Arab and local cultural milieus, which soon embraced contemporary poetry of all kinds.

What did poetry give you?

Poetry granted me multiple lives at once, through a burning existence, poetic odyssey, tempestuous intellectual, and emotional adventures.

Some of your poetry has been translated into other languages, do you think the translation brought Arabic poetry to Western audiences?

This is not one question but two. One concerns the honesty of translation, and the other the public acceptance of translated poetry, specifically in the West.

It would be better to address these questions to those who work in the translation industry or its creative fields, as they are better equipped to provide an informed opinion on the subject.

As for my personal experience, I have never written my poetry with the aim of translating it into foreign languages, nor to deliver a message to the Western public in hopes of admiration for my poetry, its boldness, or its foresight, nor to create inspirations about poetry written by women.

Writing modern poetry in Arabic expresses me personally as a poet and reflects my experiences in their subjective, social, and national dimensions. This has always been my goal.

I have been fortunate that most of those who translated my poetry were poets or creators in the literary and visual arts fields. For instance, artist Kamal Ballata translated a number of my poems in his famous book Women of the Fertile Crescent, while poet and critic Dr Salma Khadra Jayyousi translated several of my works.

Additionally, the international academic Dr Munira al-Ghadeer has translated many of my poems, including my long poem about my mother, Its Beginning Not Its End.

I received a beautiful response to this translation during her seminar held at the Department of Middle Eastern Studies at Harvard University in winter 2021. This indicates that those who translated my poetry possessed a vast amount of creative mastery, responsibility, and professional expertise.

What about your book Biography of Mothers, which includes dozens of testimonies written by writers and writers about their mothers?

The book was a creative journey and a social testament to the lives of mothers in Saudi society, spanning multiple eras of its social and political history.

It resonated with the voices of women from diverse cultural backgrounds across the Kingdom's various regions.

Creative diversity

What makes your writing for children distinct from the rest of your work?

Writing a collection of children's stories, many of which were never published, was simply a form of creative play with my children and their friends during their childhood.

Now, as I write for my grandchildren, it is a form of self-nurturing—to keep the child within me fresh and innocent, sharing with them the joy and wonder of childhood.

What ideas have you been most keen to convey to readers in your opinion pieces?

Can you imagine how many articles I have written daily or weekly over the past 45 years, starting from the second year of middle school until today?

There were few interruptions, mainly during periods of suspension from writing or exams throughout my academic journey as a student and later as a university professor. I have written in darkness and light, in cold autumn and sweltering heat.

I've contributed to numerous publications with opinion pieces covering a wide array of topics, presented at varying levels and employing diverse methods and tools.

I've written on sociology, philosophy, childhood, science, and labour, capturing the voices of society ranging from the elite to the marginalised. I've tackled Arab and internal national issues comprehensively, from grassroots concerns to national agendas.

I've written from the shores of the sea to the end of the ink, and I continue to write on the same path of enlightenment, acknowledging its wounds and embracing its youthful spirit and childlike enthusiasm, as if tomorrow's existence is an eternal journey, as if I will never live or die tomorrow.

Tell us about your experience as a jury member of the recently launched poetry contest called Mu'allaqa 45.

One of the lofty aims of Mu'allaqa, driven by a passion for poetry, is the discovery of new poetic voices in the Kingdom and the Arab world.

Additionally, the programme embraces noble and creative goals, including what I view as a Saudi cultural achievement par excellence: presenting poetry in all its diverse forms on a unified platform, where no preference is given to traditional over experimental poetry, or to free verse over prose poetry.

With remarkable literary boldness, the programme unites eloquent poetry and folk poetry under one inclusive roof, without imposing specific themes or forms on either.

The most beautiful achievement of Mu'allaqa is the common ground created for the coexistence of different forms of poetry and freedom from the power of the elite.

It introduces poetry in its myriad rhythms, voices, and artistic expressions into every Saudi and Arab home, fostering honest competition among poets from across the Arab world based solely on the merit of their poetic production. Here, they are recognised foremost as poets, transcending gender.

How do you view the state of female creativity in Saudi Arabia?

I view it with great positivity and motivation, and I can proudly highlight a substantial collection of dreams that have either been realised or are now within reach, unlike the solitary pursuit of deferred dreams that characterised my generation.

In my view, amid the vast quantitative output of Saudi creativity across diverse cultural domains—from fiction and narrative forms to poetry, and from visual arts and sculpture to theater and music—we are witnessing the emergence of qualitative creativity.

Some endeavours have already begun to blossom, while others are on the cusp of taking shape.