Memoir

Palestinian Walks is a lyrical memoir in which Palestinian lawyer and writer Raja Shehadeh recounts years of walking through the hills and valleys of the West Bank. Through six walks taken over several decades, Shehadeh explores a landscape he has known since childhood, documenting its natural beauty, ancient paths, wildflowers, and rocky hillsides. As he returns to familiar places, he witnesses how expanding settlements, roads, and political restrictions transform the countryside and limit access to land that once felt open and familiar. Combining personal reflection, nature writing, and historical observation, Shehadeh examines the relationship between landscape, memory, and belonging. His walks become both a way of reconnecting with the natural world and a means of understanding the changes reshaping Palestinian life. The book offers an intimate portrait of a threatened environment, revealing how the loss of familiar places can also mean the erosion of cultural memory, personal freedom, and a sense of home.

In A Rift in Time: Travels with My Ottoman Uncle, Palestinian writer and human rights lawyer Raja Shehadeh explores the connections between family history, national identity, and the changing political landscape of the Middle East. Inspired by the life of his great-uncle Najib Nassar, a Palestinian journalist who lived during the final decades of the Ottoman Empire, Shehadeh traces the journey of a man who witnessed the collapse of an empire and the emergence of a new political order. Moving between historical research, personal reflection, and travel writing, the author examines how the experiences of earlier generations continue to shape contemporary Palestinian life. Through his uncle’s story, Shehadeh reflects on the meaning of belonging, the fragility of historical memory, and the ways political borders transform people’s relationships with their homeland. The book offers an intimate exploration of the past, revealing how an individual’s life can illuminate the wider forces that shape a nation’s history and collective identity.

Set in Fez during the 1950s, as Morocco struggles to free itself from French colonial rule, The Bottom of the Jar is a richly textured portrait of childhood, family, and a city on the threshold of transformation. Through the eyes of a young boy discovering the world around him, Abdellatif Laâbi evokes the bustling streets of the old medina, the colourful characters who inhabit them, and the intimate dramas unfolding behind closed doors. At the centre of this world is the boy’s family: a generous father, a formidable mother whose passionate prayers and sharp wit fill their home, and an eccentric uncle whose love of hashish and storytelling turns him into a kind of Homer after dark. Humorous, tender, and occasionally heartbreaking, the novel captures the contradictions of a society caught between inherited traditions and the promise of independence. Drawing on the author’s own childhood, it celebrates the imagination and resilience of ordinary people while exploring how political change reshapes private lives.

In Kissing the Sword, Iranian writer Shahrnush Parsipur recounts her experiences as a political prisoner in post-revolutionary Iran. Following the 1979 Iranian Revolution, the new authorities began detaining people associated with opposing political views. Parsipur herself was imprisoned without formal charges, experiencing the fear, uncertainty, and psychological strain of incarceration. Through vivid personal recollections, she describes life inside Iranian prisons, including encounters with fellow prisoners, interrogations, ideological disputes, and the harsh treatment of detainees. Her memoir also explores the restrictions imposed on women, particularly debates surrounding religious authority, dress, and individual autonomy. Combining painful memories with moments of dark humour and reflection, Parsipur examines the relationship between political power and personal freedom. The book is both a record of her own experiences and a broader meditation on censorship, resistance, and the resilience required to preserve one’s voice under repression.

The Book of My Lives is a collection of autobiographical essays in which Aleksandar Hemon reflects on his childhood in Sarajevo, his experiences as an immigrant in the United States, and the events that transformed his understanding of home and belonging. Moving between memories of growing up in socialist Yugoslavia and his later life in Chicago, Hemon explores how personal identity is shaped by language, geography, family, and historical circumstances. The collection takes a deeply personal turn when the Bosnian War begins while Hemon is visiting the United States, leaving him unable to return to Sarajevo as planned. Through sharp observations, dark humour, and emotional honesty, he examines the experience of exile and the complicated relationship between an adopted home and a homeland altered by violence. He also reflects on family life, fatherhood, football, and the unexpected details that give meaning to ordinary existence. Blending intimate memoir with broader historical reflection, the book explores how people rebuild their lives when the places they belong to become distant or irretrievably changed.

What happens when you finally return to the homeland you were forced to leave as a child—and discover that it no longer feels like home? More than fifty years after her family fled Jerusalem during the 1948 Nakba, Palestinian-British doctor and writer Ghada Karmi returns to Palestine, hoping to contribute to the struggle for peace and Palestinian statehood. Working with the Palestinian Authority in Ramallah, she encounters the realities of occupation, military restrictions, political bureaucracy, and a homeland transformed beyond recognition. As she revisits places connected to her childhood and confronts the loss of her family home, Karmi wrestles with a deeply personal question: can exile ever truly end? An intimate memoir of displacement and belonging, Return explores the painful distance between the homeland preserved in memory and the reality of returning to it.

In Other Words is a memoir about Jhumpa Lahiri’s decision to learn Italian and her determination to express herself through a language that is not her own. Although she grew up speaking English and Bengali, Lahiri develops a deep fascination with Italian and eventually moves to Rome with her family to immerse herself in the language. Written originally in Italian and published with an English translation, the book reflects on the vulnerability, frustration, and freedom involved in learning to communicate in unfamiliar words. Through personal anecdotes, literary reflections, and metaphors, Lahiri compares language learning to migration, describing the experience of becoming an outsider in a place where she longs to belong. The memoir explores creativity, cultural identity, and the relationship between language and selfhood, revealing how adopting a new language can create space for reinvention and a different understanding of oneself.

Novelist as a Vocation offers Haruki Murakami’s reflections on the craft of writing, the life of a novelist, and the habits that sustain a long creative career. Drawing on his own experiences, Murakami discusses how he became a writer, the importance of originality, and the discipline required to transform ideas into finished novels. He considers the relationship between imagination and reality, explaining how writers develop distinctive voices and create fictional worlds that feel convincing to readers. Beyond practical advice, Murakami reflects on literary recognition, criticism, education, and the pressures of the publishing industry. He questions conventional ideas about literary talent and argues that persistence, curiosity, and a willingness to work consistently are essential to creative development. The book also reveals aspects of Murakami’s personal philosophy, including his commitment to routine, physical exercise, and independent thinking. Part memoir and part meditation on artistic practice, it offers insight into how a novelist builds a sustainable relationship with writing while protecting the freedom to follow an individual creative vision.

In this moving autobiographical memoir, Scholastique Mukasonga recounts her childhood as a Tutsi girl in Rwanda, where ethnic persecution gradually transforms everyday life into a struggle for survival. After her family is forcibly displaced to the impoverished Bugesera region, she grows up surrounded by fear, humiliation, and uncertainty, yet also by the warmth of family life and the strength of her community. Eventually forced to flee to neighbouring Burundi, Mukasonga leaves behind the people and places that shaped her childhood. In 1994, while living in France, she learns that thirty-seven members of her family have been murdered during the Rwandan genocide. The title refers to inyenzi, a dehumanising slur used against Tutsis, reducing human beings to creatures considered fit for extermination. Through precise, restrained prose, Mukasonga transforms her memories into an act of remembrance, restoring individuality to those whom violence sought to erase. Cockroaches is both a personal testimony of survival and a powerful tribute to the enduring bonds of family, memory, and belonging.

The Return is a memoir in which Hisham Matar recounts his search for his father, Jaballa Matar, a Libyan political dissident who disappeared in 1990 after being abducted in Egypt and taken to a prison in Libya. For years, Matar has lived with uncertainty about his father’s fate, holding on to memories and fragments of information while his family remains scattered by exile. Following the fall of Muammar Gaddafi’s regime in 2011, Matar returns to Libya for the first time in decades, hoping to discover what happened to his father and reconnect with the country he left behind as a child. His journey becomes both a personal investigation and a reflection on the lasting effects of dictatorship, political violence, and displacement. Through intimate recollections of family life, childhood, and loss, Matar explores the complex bonds between fathers and sons, the power of memory, and the emotional cost of living without answers. The memoir is a moving meditation on love, belonging, and the search for truth in the shadow of historical trauma.

Tasting the Sky: A Palestinian Childhood is a memoir recounting Ibtisam Barakat’s childhood during and after the 1967 Six-Day War. Growing up in Ramallah in the occupied West Bank, Barakat experiences the fear and confusion of war as her family flees their home, leaving behind the familiar world of her early years. Through the eyes of a young girl, she describes the uncertainty of displacement, the separation of families, and the emotional challenges of growing up amid political conflict. Despite the hardship surrounding her, Barakat discovers refuge in language, reading, and education, gradually finding ways to understand and express her experiences. Written in lyrical, accessible prose, the memoir captures how a child makes sense of violence and loss while holding on to curiosity and hope. It offers an intimate perspective on Palestinian history, exploring the relationship between memory, identity, language, and belonging, and demonstrating how storytelling can become a means of survival and self-discovery.

In Cyprus, even ordering a coffee can become a political statement. In The Traitors’ Club, Marina Christofides recounts the experiences of a group of friends from both sides of the island’s division who refuse to define themselves solely as Greek Cypriots or Turkish Cypriots. Instead, they choose to identify as Cypriots, united by their belief that people from both communities can live together in peace. Gathering over coffee in an Ottoman courtyard in divided Nicosia, the friends share stories that are often funny, sometimes harrowing, and always deeply personal. Their conversations reveal the lasting effects of British colonial rule, intercommunal violence, the 1974 Turkish invasion, and the partition of Cyprus. Through their memories, the political history of the island becomes an intimate story of families, friendships, displacement, and the struggle to coexist. The group calls itself the Traitors’ Club because, in a society shaped by competing national loyalties, friendship across the divide can be viewed as an act of betrayal. Yet their willingness to listen to one another challenges the divisions that politicians and historical conflicts have reinforced. Moving between memories of an idyllic childhood, the trauma of fleeing during wartime, and the everyday realities of living in a divided country, Christofides offers a personal perspective on the Cyprus conflict. The memoir celebrates the courage of ordinary people who refuse to let political boundaries determine whom they can love, trust, or call their own.