Back Story: Living with Aisha by Caleb Powell
To write and publish a novel presents many difficulties, a novel whose subject matter portrays a taboo in Islam presents one more obstacle. I have thought far beyond twice, and for over fifteen years have been contemplating writing about a love relationship between a secular man and a Muslim woman. I considered substituting Christianity for Islam and designating the anti-heroine of my stories Mary, for the themes often focus on dysfunctional passion. Yet, without Islam, the story would be completely fabricated. Two years ago, I started with one story, “Leaving Aisha,” published by Monkeybicycle. The ideas and questions stayed, and next I wrote “Living with Aisha.” Now I am taking notes for a longer work of fiction, The Year of Living with Aisha.
Why have I hesitated to write? I count many Muslims as friends, and they, like me, have a difficult time reconciling how anyone can be so provoked by art as to justify violence. Though my father was born in Lebanon, I am of Persian descent. I taught English in the United Arab Emirates, lived in Abu Dhabi, spent considerable time in Dubai, and have fond memories of travel to places such as Dar es Salaam, Karachi, and Muscat. While I lived in the UAE, I worked with Arab nationals and Muslims from Palestine, Egypt, Syria, and Jordan. Though they may never read my words, these Muslims are my audience, just as those in the secular West where I live.
The landscape of censorship shapes the Aisha stories, along with my personal experiences. The 1988 publication of Salman Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses, one of the most controversial books of the 20th century, incited a fatwa demanding Rushdie’s assassination. The aftermath witnessed the selling of over two million copies, yet one Japanese translator of the novel was murdered, and in another assassination attempt targeting a translator, the infamous Sivas Massacre in Turkey, thirty-nine people died. Violent reactions to art concerning portrayals of Islam have continued. In 2002 Dutch producer Theo van Gogh made Submission, a short film written by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. They both received death threats, and in 2004 a Moroccan fanatic killed van Gogh in Amsterdam. After a Danish newspaper depicted cartoons of Mohammed, fundamentalist anger resulted in mayhem. This spring Afghani president Hamid Karzai incited the populace regarding Koran burnings in Florida, spurring mobs to kill at least seven innocents in Mazir-el-Sharif.
The fundamentalist threat is real. Yet reactions by extreme elements in Islam can be inconsistent, arbitrary, and unpredictable. Why do cartoons provoke, when iconoclastic attacks made by talk show hosts, writers, and politicians often go relatively ignored? Writer Richard Dawkins, DJ Michael Savage, and politician Pat Buchanan have questioned Islam, with no comparable reaction. Walid Shoebat, a former PLO terrorist, wrote about his conversion to Christianity, an act that contained greater defiance than Salman Rushdie’s but less outrage, though Shoebat has received threats. Meanwhile, assaults on Christianity rarely stoke such anger, and often create fascinating polemic, from Andres Serrano’s “Piss Christ,” to Bill Maher’s film Religulous, Christopher Hitchens’ God Is Not Great, and Nobel laureate Bertrand Russell’s Why I Am Not a Christian, following the traditions of 19th Century atheist Colonel Robert Ingersoll. But Pakistani Ibn Warriq, author of Why I Am Not a Muslim, must use a pseudonym. Concerning Islam, the media, government, and society also succumb to self-censorship, as seen in the 2008 decision by Random House not to publish Sherry Jones’ The Jewel of Medina, a story told through the eyes of Mohammed’s youngest wife, A’isha. This novel eventually did find a publication in Europe, with relatively little protest, and a sequel is forthcoming. Most Western countries have free speech, yet remain tentative concerning Islam. Why?
The dichotomy between Islam and the West is rich and fascinating, and territory that should be explored. I write about religion and love because I want to examine why barriers exist between people, and though I am not so naïve to think fundamentalists will change, I’d like to think of future generations, and that adherents of opposing ideologies can agree that peace is always better than violence.
Caleb Powell enjoys conversation, good food, hanging with friends & family, and he's always up, or down, for a beer. He blogs at Art=Antagonism and Notes of a Sexist Stay-at-home Father.
interesting... will wait for more from this author
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Thanks for the insight into your process with getting Aisha written. These blog posts really feed my desire to always know more.
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