Zahra Barri on her feminist and literary heroes...and death by cheesecake
I chat to British Egyptian author and stand-up comedian Zahra Barri, whose debut novel Daughters of the Nile, was published earlier this month.
Welcome to ‘Eyb, my newsletter in which I speak frankly about topics that I would be told are ‘eyb or shameful, growing up as a young Arab women. I also write about topics affecting girls, women and marginalised communities, and share my latest work, reading/watching/listening recommendations.
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I know it’s been a minute since my last newsletter - I’ve been settling into my new life of full-time freelance journalism, finishing writing my second novel and potty training.
My main focus recently when it has come to my journalism has been Gaza and next week’s general elections in the UK.
Reading-wise the book I am shouting about right now is Daughters of the Nile, which was published by Unbound at the beginning of this month. I was lucky enough to read an advance copy in January and I live-texted its author, British Egyptian stand-up comedian Zahra Barri, during the week I was reading it. Zahra and I discovered we are basically the same person. I also feel really honoured to have been able to endorse the book cover along with my sisters and authors Alya Mooro and Zeba Talkhani.
I’ve actually never read a book like Daughters of the Nile - few if any English historical novels exist that solely chart the women’s rights movement in 20th century Egypt. When it comes to literature, it feels like a neglected period in history. I’m sure there are plenty of novels in Arabic about the Egyptian women’s rights movement.
Daughters of the Nile is a multi-generational saga about three generations of women in the Bin-Khalid family: grandmother Fatiha, who is Egyptian feminist Doria Shafik’s best friend and a participant in the storming of the Egyptian parliament in 1951 by women - daughter Yasminah, who is trying to find a place for queerness in Islam, and Yasminah’s niece Nadia, who is half-English, half Egyptian and living in England and wrongly assumes that her Aunt Yasminah disapproves of her lifestyle. The novel goes between these three POVs over a timeline spanning from 1940 to 2011.
Barri very casually incorporates discourses on feminism, the status of women and queerness in Islam into the novel, as well as verses from the Qur’an and Hadith, into the novel, which makes her my absolute heroine. I can’t tell you how many of my Muslim girlfriends have texted me this month to tell me they are OBSESSED with Barri’s book.
Image courtesy of Zahra Barri
I interviewed Barri last month for The New Arab and wrote an in-depth review of her book which you can read here.
And separately, we did a little fun Q&A session exclusively for this Substack, so you can get to know Zahra and the inner workings of her mind better! I hope you enjoy reading it!
Zahra, who are your literary heroes?
For fearless and ferocious, from-the-heart writing, it would be Erica Jong, Henry Miller, Charles Bukowski and Sylvia Plath.
For writers who confront societal taboos, definitely Hanan Al-Shaykh, Nawal El Saadawi, Sonallah Ibrahim, Doria Shafik and Seba Al-Herz.
For writers that write about weird things or just weirdly in general, Azareen Van Der Vliet Oloomi, Han Kang, Maud Ventura, Sheena Patel and Charlotte Roche.
And for writers who are just plain funny, it has to be Nora Ephron and Elif Batuman.
Whose writing style most inspires you?
I love a book that makes me laugh one minute and cry the next like Gail Honeyman’s Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine. I think the reason Honeyman has your emotions in her hands is that her character charms the reader, you really root for Eleanor and feel what she feels. I think character is everything. I recently read My Husband by Maud Ventura where the character was so absurd I just couldn’t put her down. Any writers who create characters with so much dimension you feel like they are somehow a part of you, is a style I admire. Anyone who does this with a multiple cast of characters plus adds a lyrical poetical beat to their prose, like Bernadine Evaristo, I take my hat off to.
Who is your favourite Arab author?
Sonallah Ibrahim for writing comically about sex, marriage and the Egyptian experience. Not being afraid to write humorously about FGM too. And boy does Sonallah write great women! I love when I find a male writer who writes women well. Jeffery Eugenides although isn’t Arab does the same, you have to keep checking the cover to remind yourself that the author, despite depicting the female experience so well, is not one themselves.
If you could time travel to any decade in Egyptian history, what decade would you choose?
It has to be 1951 when Doria Shafik stormed the parliament because I would have liked to be one of those 1,500 Egyptian women who joined her/made history/fan girled her.
Who are your feminist icons?
Erica Jong for writing boldly and comically about women’s sexual liberation and coining the phrase ‘the zipless fuck’.
Malala – I had a joke in my stand up that I totally understand Malala’s feminist quest for an education. Because when I told my Muslim family I was going to Drama school, they almost shot me in the head too. Not only is she willing to be a martyr to the feminist cause, but she appeared in We Are Lady Parts and creator, Nida Manzoor said she had a wicked sense of humour. Feminist and funny? Yes please.
Seba Al-Herz (pen name) – She not only wrote about lesbianism in Saudi Arabia but didn’t make it into the cliché coming out Muslim misery story. Instead, her othering, in her novel The Others is not caused by her being gay but by her being Shia and not Sunni Muslim. Muslim feminists writing against western cliché is just about one of my favourite things.
Judy Blume – She brought the genre of the adolescent/YA novel into new realms. Her writing isn’t fluffy and saccharine about puberty and growing up. Her writing is real and straight talking about sex. And she didn’t talk down to her readers. She made me feel less weird in my own skin. Wait for it, she made me BLUME.
And Doria Shafik, of course for politically getting Egyptian women the vote but personally for inspiring my novel, Daughters of the Nile.
Okay, it’s time for a quickfire round:
Tea or coffee? Tea, coffee gives me the shits although I love them smell of it (the coffee not my shits).
Dogs or cats? Dogs 100 percent. I love how their hearts are so pure and that they are so loyal. Although I love all animals, cats can be, well, catty.
Charlotte Bronte or Jane Austen? I’m ashamed to say I’ve never read Bronte, although my mother has read everything by her. I studied Austen’s Pride and Prejudice at GCSE and know we owe a lot to her when it comes to writing the marriage plot in literature. So, Austen.
Fairouz or Umm Kulthum? I have to say Umm Kulthum because she features so much in Daughters of the Nile.
Falafel or shawarma? Now that I’m practically veggie I’d say falafel, but the shawarma I ate at the KFUPM take away by my school bus stop in Dharan, Saudi Arabia, was one of the tastiest things I’ve ever put in my mouth.
What's your death row meal? Pizza and pasta. Followed by cheesecake. Death by cheesecake is a pretty good way to go. I do worry though, that my impending death would slightly lull my ordinarily massive appetite.
Daughters of the Nile is published by Unbound and available to order from Unbound, Amazon, Blackwells, Waterstones and a number of independent retailers. If you can’t find it in your local bookshop, ask the bookseller to order it in for you.