From the day I was born, on Monday 11 December 1911 AD to be precise, in Sayyidna Al-Husayn district, the place came to dwell within the innermost recesses of my heart. Whenever I walk through it I experience the most amazing elation, akin to that of lovers. I always felt for it a yearning as acute as pain; indeed that painful yearning abated only when I started to write about the district. Even when circumstances forced us to leave and move to Abbasiyya my greatest spiritual joy was to visit Al-Husayn. From an interview with Ragaa Al-Naqqash My mother was an illiterate woman who could neither read nor write; nevertheless, I considered her a repository of folk culture. She adored Sayyidna Al-Husayn and would visit [his mosque] regularly. When we lived in Gamaliyya she would take me along on these daily trips but when we moved to Abbasiyya, after I had grown up and was no longer an obedient child, she used to go alone ... The strange thing is that my mother was also a regular visitor to the Egyptian Museum where she liked to spend most of the time in the Mummy Hall. I can find no explanation for this: her passion for Al-Husayn and Islamic historical monuments should have made the statues of pharaohs repugnant to her. And she would visit Coptic monuments with the same zeal, especially Mar Guirguis Convent, considering the whole matter a form of baraka [blessing]. She was such a frequent visitor that a friendship developed between her and the nuns, who loved her very much. Once, when my mother fell ill and had to stay home, we were stunned when a contingent of nuns came to see her. It caused an upheaval that day in Radwan Shukri Street : no one there had seen such a sight before. In truth, I was influenced by this beautiful tolerance; Egyptians have never been sectarian, and this is the true spirit of Islam. From an interview with Al-Naqqash During my primary school years I read works by the foremost writers of the day and tried to imitate their styles. I tried to imitate Al-Manfaluti's style in Al-Nazarat and Al- 'Abarat , and attempted to write my life story along the lines of Taha Husayn's Al-Ayyam [The Days], giving it the title Al-Sanawat [The Years]. The year 1937 was the turning point in my life. That year I decided to dedicate myself to the craft of fiction writing, after I underwent a terrible conflict weighing philosophy against literature and choosing between them.... I chose novel writing despite its difficulty, and abandoned philosophy which I had found easier given that I had acquired a strong formation in philosophical studies. The path I chose was difficult for several reasons, the most important of which was that Arabic literature at the time was very lacking in novels. The existing corpus was very limited, comprising only a few works, all close to autobiography, such as Tawfiq Al-Hakim's 'Awdat Al-Rawh , Mohamed Husayn Haykal's Zaynab and Dr. Taha Husayn's Al-Ayyam . Besides, this path necessitated that I undertake wide-ranging readings in both Arabic and world literature.... The novel was the art in which I found myself. From an interview with Al-Naqqash It seems to me now that had I received sound guidance I would have chosen music and not literature, and the entire course of my life would have been different. Despite my fondness for the plastic arts, I never entertained any thoughts about becoming a plastic artist, but as for music, I was so enamoured with it that I could have become a professional musician.... My fondness for song was acquired in childhood. There was a large collection of records of then famous singers in our house, and on happy occasions singing parties were held at our place. There were two types of song at these parties: the awalem performed in a special area for the women, while male singers entertained the men in another part of the house. Because I was a child, I moved freely between the two areas, enjoying both types of song at these soirees... Although I loved Umm Kulthoum, I did not know her personally and only once did I actually speak to her. This was at the party Al-Ahram newspaper held in my honour when I turned 50 in 1961. Mohamed Hassanein Heikal had invited her to attend, and she accepted without hesitation, which surprised me, because I didn't think she took an interest in the novel or the short story, although I heard she was cultured and enjoyed poetry. I never imagined she would accept so easily to attend what was essentially a literary celebration.... In my youth I entered into heated debates, pitting myself against such people as Dr Hussein Fawzi who were all for Western music and totally against Oriental music, the ideal place for which, in their opinion, was the trash bin. It was -- and remains -- an article of faith with me that Oriental music is a great art. From an interview with Al-Naqqash My position on everything I have read throughout my life -- and my readings include the Ancient Egyptian and Arabic heritage as well as English and French creative works -- was, as far as possible, a neutral, unbiased, one. This in the sense that all these cultures are, in the last analysis, human cultures, produced by man, and I am as entitled to the English [literary] heritage as I am to the Pharaonic heritage. In other words, all these cultures belong to me in my capacity as a human being. And if you were to ask me to enumerate my favourite works in order, you might find among them an Ancient Egyptian work, a French one, a third that is Arabic and a fourth that is English. When I read I allow my self to love what seems worthy of love, regardless of nationality. From an interview with Ibrahim Mansour Sources: Ragaa Al-Naqqash, Naguib Mahfouz: Safahat Min Mudhakkiratihi wa Adwa' Jadida 'ala Adabihi wa Hayatihi (Cairo: Al-Ahram, 1998); Ibrahim Mansour, Al-Izdiwaj Al-Thaqafi wa Azmat Al-Mu'arada Al-Misriyya (Cairo: Merit, 2006) Translated by Hala Halim
