Poetry as a Universal Means of Expression

Siham Bouhlal has made a name for herself as a translator of medieval and contemporary texts from Arabic into French. She is currently in Germany on a scholarship. Martina Sabra spoke to her

Siham Bouhlal, what have you got out of your time as a scholar at the Heinrich Böll House?

Siham Bouhlal: First and foremost, I found it very exciting to study Heinrich Böll. In the past few months I've read several of his works and found them very fresh. It's also very inspiring to be living alongside fellow artists from all over the world.

Then there's the location of the house itself: Nature, the elements, the woods, the hills; the way your body merges with its surroundings when you go for a walk; the arrival of autumn, the vivid colours of the leaves; the kind of vibrations this stimulates in the body, the kind of sensations – these are all things I'm writing about at the moment.

I've developed an entirely new, profound feeling for trees since I've been here. I'm writing poems that at times surprise even me. I've found things that I was already carrying within me but was unable to express.

You were born in Casablanca in 1966 and grew up there. For the past 25 years, your main place of residence has been Paris, but you have also spent long periods of time in Rabat. Do you regard yourself as a Maghreb writer?

Bouhlal: I describe myself as a "writer of the French language". This is very important to me. I am not a "Maghrebi", nor am I "francophone". For me, poetry is a universal means of expression. It is not tied to a national identity and it cannot be crammed into pigeonholes.

When people compartmentalize poets who write in the same language according to their geographical origins, I consider it an act of marginalisation. Take, for example, a writer who spends his whole life in Marseilles. His way of writing will be quite different from that of a Parisian author who has never seen the sea. But you wouldn't describe them as a Marseillais or Parisian author. Both are French authors.

What significance do German women poets have for you?

Bouhlal: Some German-language poets have made a deep impression on me. Ingeborg Bachmann, for example; her poems have always accompanied me. And Paul Celan – even as a child I was deeply moved by his poems about the Holocaust.

Celan's poetry has acquired a whole new meaning for me during my time here in Langenbroich. We went to the Haus der Geschichte (House of History) in Bonn, and saw photos there of the concentration camps after the liberation in 1945. Of course, these photos weren't new to me, but there, in the museum in Bonn, they suddenly aroused in me something quite different.

It became clear to me that I was in Germany, in the place where all this actually happened. The atrocities were no longer abstract; instead, I was right in the midst of it all, I experienced it physically. All I could see was naked skin, exposed bodies, and those enormous eyes. I had to leave.

But the mass murder by the National Socialists was also the subject of public discussion in France.

Bouhlal: Yes, but in France my perception of the subject was different. As a Moroccan, I live a different history there, whether I want to or not – one that is also, in a sense, a history of victimhood. France was the colonial power in Morocco, and effectively this hasn't changed. Even if the rhetoric today is different, the colonial mentality hasn't changed. During my stay in Germany, this subject matter has faded into the background, and I'm able to address the subject of the Holocaust in a different way.

How did you get over the shock?

Bouhlal: I wrote. To be honest, I would never have thought that I would write about this topic. I am a Moroccan. My generation was very committed to supporting Palestine. I also became acquainted with the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish very early on. My first poems, which back then I still wrote in Arabic, expressed my solidarity with the Palestinian cause.

Sometimes, when you're young, you don't differentiate much in your thinking. I think that, back then, we didn't make enough of a distinction between the history of the Jews in Europe and the behaviour of the Israeli government, in Gaza, for example. But luckily one grows up, and one becomes more precise.

I think it's important to be frank about both: the Holocaust perpetrated against the Jews, and the expulsion of the Palestinians. But under no circumstances should one confound the two.

Your poems are often very sensual. You describe your wishes and desires, sometimes very openly and without shame. Is it important to you to break taboos?

Bouhlal: No. I think wanting to break taboos is a waste of time. What is important to me is to interrogate the body, to explore one's own possibilities, and to give poetic expression to this conscious relationship with the body.

Your work has not yet been published in German. Are there any plans to translate it?

Bouhlal: I have published a book in German and French in collaboration with the painter Klaus Zylla. In that, though, the main focus was the art. Also, some of my poems and some passages from my prose work Berber Princess have been translated in preparation for the Poetry Festival 2010 in Berlin. Other than that, no further translations are planned at this point.

You're also in the process of writing a book of poetry about Corsica. Why Corsica?

Bouhlal: The first time I went to Corsica, my partner Driss Bensekry had just died. Everything in me was dead, I had no desire to live. I was full of grief. But Corsica, the wildness of the landscape, the sea, the mountains, this harsh beauty, all of that reawakened my love of life, so that I said to myself: no, you have to keep on living, because there are still wonderful things to live and to see. Look at Corsica, this island you didn't know; you can learn so much here. This island saved me at a time when I really just wanted to go.

Poetry as a literary form has often been declared dead. Do you believe that poetry has a future?

Bouhlal: As long as there are poets, there will be poetry. Perhaps it's for that reason that there are not fewer readers. Let me say this, too: for me, poetry is not just a piece of written text. It is also gestures, looks, moments, an instant of utter stillness: all of this can be poetry.

Interview conducted by Martina Sabra

Siham Bouhlal is currently a scholar at the Heinrich Böll House in Langenbroich near Cologne.

Translated from the German by Charlotte Collins

Edited by Aingeal Flanagan/Qantara.de

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