Hanging between Two Different Worlds: A Conversation with Ahmed Naji

Abstract

Hanging between Two Different WorldsA Conversation with Ahmed Naji Rob Roensch (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution In February 2016, after the publication of his energetic, imaginative, Cairoset novel, Using Life, Ahmed Naji became the first writer in Egyptian history to be imprisoned for "offending public morality," for erotic scenes in Using Life. Then he found himself in prison, sharing cells with high-profile political activists, and the experience deepened his commitment to literature. In 2016 he received the PEN/Barbey Freedom to Write Award. His new book, Rotten Evidence (McSweeney's, 2023), translated by Katharine Halls, is a chronicle of his incarceration that confounds the expectations of a prison memoir. In this interview, Naji discusses Rotten Evidence, the responsibility of writers to defend free expression, and the roles of dreams and humor in prison life. Rob Roensch: Could you talk a bit about the genesis of Rotten Evidence? Ahmed Naji: In the beginning, I didn't want to write about it. In general, I'm not a big fan of prison literature. I have a lot of moral and artistic questions about the meaning of writing about experience in a prison. But at the same time I was looking around, and I was surprised to not find any books written about the situation of current prisons in Egypt, which was very odd because in the last century in Egyptian history, prison literature was a big part of the map of Arab and Egyptian literature. However, in the last decade or two, because of the effect of social media, a lot of people who leave prison, rather than writing a book, they will write a synopsis, update their Facebook status, and just end there because you will take this emotional charge from inside them and that's it. The second thing I noticed is how human rights organizations are pushing toward testimony. So, rather than prison literature or writing about prison, we end up with all these human rights testimonies. The problem with human rights testimony is that it's dealing with you as a victim. It doesn't care about any other aspect of life like family life or love. Love is not human rights, as we all know, so you aren't allowed to speak about that. In your human rights testimony you are just a fact talking about suffering, and I thought the experience is more complicated and harder than that. Roensch: You've noted that many prison stories seem to be mainly about suffering [End Page 33] and human rights testimony. But your book is very funny. So I wonder if you could talk a bit more why humor is important for you as a writer, and the relationship of humor to solemn subjects like prison. Naji: I believe the highest literature is if I'm reading a book and it makes me laugh, not smile, but laugh. I believe this is a hard thing to achieve through writing. Making the reader cry, or feel sympathy, it's easy. It would be easy for me to write such a book in a melodramatic tone, and suck up to the reader's empathy. Like, "Oh! I have been a victim!" But again, this is for me a little bit cringe and kitsch, as Milan Kundera would describe it, and second, in general, this is not my style. My style is always using humor and sarcasm in a way that will push people to think about the unthinkable. Humor will elevate the experience and not make me a victim. In Arab movies or American movies, when they have a scene happening in prison, they make it very serious and very angry. And this is impossible. I can't imagine this happening in any prison. People would be angry, but even with this anger, they make fun. They have to, because it's the only way to survive such harsh conditions. Or they will even laugh from the humiliation. For example, a prisoner will come inside, and we hear stories that the police officer hit him. Even the prisoner, the victim, will tell us the story while he's laughing. I learned in prison how prisoners...