Ever since the English translation of US-based Palestinian writer Ibtisam Azem’s novel The Book of Disappearance was longlisted for the International Booker Prize 2025, it has sparked renewed interest in the work.
Published by Al-Jamal Publications in Beirut and Baghdad, the book didn't make waves in the Arab world when it was first published in 2014, yet the 2025 Booker judges called it “speculative and haunting,” adding that it was “an exception exercise in memory-making and psycho-geography”.
Translated into English by Sinan Antoon and published by Syracuse University Press in the United States, its longlisting for such a prestigious prize marks a significant achievement for Palestinian narrative and Arabic fiction.
The novel takes as its premise the sudden unexplained disappearance of all Palestinians, triggering confusion in Israel. Beneath it, however, the novel intricately recounts the real history of the Nakba of 1948 and its aftermath—the displacement, oppression, and occupation endured by Palestinians.
Memory and reality
The story begins with the disappearance of Grandma Teta, who insists on being called this instead of Siti. She lives with her daughter and son-in-law but visits her old home on a street in Jaffa’s Ajami neighbourhood every day with her daughter.
One day, she ventures out alone without telling anyone, sparking alarm and fear in her daughter and grandson, Alaa, a graduate student who visits the family twice a week from Tel Aviv. They search for her, and Alaa eventually finds her, sitting on a chair facing the sea, lifeless.
Through the narrator, Alaa, the novel captures the tension surrounding the search for Grandma Teta. “My mother moved from house to house, looking like a lost ant in her nervousness. She feared that her hand, knocking determinedly on doors, would break—as if her fist were a hammer rather than flesh and bone”.
The novel uses rich rhetorical imagery and simile, such as describing "lungs narrow, like the alleyways, or "her arm as thin as a broomstick," or being rebuked "as if I was a fly," or Alaa saying: "Sometimes my shadow would leave me, as if it had become someone else's."