Speaking to Egyptian novelists, Rania Khallaf gauges out the impression left behind by the Culture Council's Novel Conference last week Though lavishly provided for, the Third Novel Conference -- a cramped five-day event -- was still subject to criticism, with the charge of disorganisation repeatedly levelled at its organisers. "It was very obvious in the course of this round that quantity, not quality was the principal driving factor." Thus spoke novelist Bahaa Taher: "Prominent novelists were not invited, while 'beginners' made up the bulk of participants." "And the enormous number of papers," Taher adds "had there been fewer of them, that would have been more beneficial and more manageable. The profuse number of sessions reflects the philosophy of the cultural establishment -- the more the better regardless of quality. If the conference was intended as a carnival, then it was an indisputable success. But I don't think it was adequate in dealing with the present reality or future challenges of the novel in Arabic." As for the conference's award, Taher says "to avoid another scandal [Taher refers to novelist Sonalla Ibrahim's spectacularly orchestrated refusal to accept the award of the conference last round], the council forced every novelist considered eligible for it to sign an official acceptance of the award in advance -- a ludicrous and humiliating procedure that gave the conference a bad reputation even before it started." Critic Farouk Abdel-Qader seemed to agree. "Such conferences are useless," he declaimed categorically. "I don't see how inviting more than 200 novelists and critics to present and discuss papers in a few days can lead to anything useful -- unless it's about enjoying the mild weather of Cairo. One cannot deny that Professor Gaber Asfour [secretary-general of the Supreme Council of Culture] is a prominent intellect and a literary critic to be reckoned with. The question is whether he drew up the agenda of the conference in his capacity as an intellectual or as an official -- the head of the most powerful cultural authority in the country?" "It would be good to note," Abdel-Qader says "that the theme of the conference -- History and the Novel -- is too wide. I'd much rather the spotlight was directed at a more specific, concrete topic. How have Arab novelists treated their own history, for example. A number of Arab novelists have attempted to rewrite the history of their countries -- such as the late Abdel-Rahman Mounif in Mudun Al-Milh (Salt Cities) and Ibrahim Al-Kouni in Al- Khusouf (The Eclipse) -- why not concentrate on these two novelists' work with a view to reaching some conclusion, rather than choosing a title that admits of too much..." For his part novelist Gamal El-Ghitani refused to sign a prior acceptance statement and consequently boycotted the conference. Had he accepted the award, he says, he would have been "an instrument in the hands of the cultural establishment, which is trying hard to regain its credibility after what Sonallah did -- and I'm not convinced by the conference, because nobody takes it seriously". Short story writer Hala El-Badri, by contrast, likes the idea of holding conferences whose principal objective, she believes, is "for people to meet". Arab writers have few channels for interaction, she adds: "Conferences are a good way to remedy this." She believes this particular conference managed to generate dialogue among participants: "I for one had the opportunity to understand the views of some of my favourite writers on the connection between history and the novel. But it would have been interesting to agree on a theme for the next round, as this would have shown both what novelists have in common and the ways in which they differ from each other." In the course of the closing ceremony Secretary- General of the Supreme Council for Culture announced that the Arabic Novel Conference -- a biannual event -- will now be held every year, an idea that found favour with few participants. Mustafa Zikri, a younger novelist, thought the conference should be held once every four years -- to allow the organisers to come up with a better programme. "Most of the papers," he thought, "were not well researched, and the speakers are selected haphazardly." Zikri was among several younger novelists invited to participate, but -- reflecting his generation's attitude -- he never showed up. "Most of us are simply not interested in the academic format," he explained. "Besides, the conference turned out to be a political gauge to decide who is with and who is against the establishment." Ibrahim Farghali, another younger novelist, did not attend the seminar he was scheduled to attend because, he says, "the seminar was totally disorganised". As a participant he testifies that "it was very hard to follow all the activities of the conference", though, unlike Zikri, he is not against the idea of making the conference an annual event. "The initiative of the private sector is required, though," Farghali believes, "in order for the conference to be adequately supported and free from any political control that might be imposed by the Ministry of Culture." He too criticised the content of the papers: "They were too academic. This is a conference for novelists, not for critics. Besides, there was not a single female novelist on the jury; and none of the better known female writers, as far as I know, were nominated for the award." He suggested introducing musical performance or readings and reviews to cater to a wider audience. Novelist Ibrahim Abdel-Meguid, for his part, did not follow the conference simply because he was "too busy working on a new novel". Like Abdel-Qader, but in a far more nonchalant way, he is "not interested in such festival-like events". The announcement of Sudanese novelist Tayyeb Salih (author of the renowned Season of Migration to the North ) as the winner of the LE100,000 award this year solicited a range of reactions. "I think that El-Tayeb Saleh has a good reputation throughout the Arab world," Taher says. "This might be the best thing that ever happened in the course of this conference -- and a good way out of the ministry's dilemma." Abdel-Qader was of a slightly different opinion: "Saleh is the moon of the Arabic novel, as I like to call him. But he hasn't written a word in 30 years." Zikri too forwarded a complex analysis: "The only justification for giving him the award is to avoid giving it to an Egyptian novelist, because there are too many out there waiting for it. It was also of course a way of bringing the literary nature of the conference back to the forefront, following the effects of Sonallah Ibrahim's decision to refuse the award -- which had imbued it with a rather too political veneer. A wise move." For his part Farghali thought there were others, with "a more concrete, sustained literary project", more worthy of the award, while El-Ghitani dismissed the question: "Prizes granted by the Ministry of Culture have no credibility at all. The ministry adopts a policy of exclusion," El-Ghitani went on. "You will have noticed the absence of such big names as Bahaa Taher and Radwa Ashour. Not to say that Tayyeb Salih is not a prominent writer -- on the contrary. But it is his winning that improves the award's reputation -- and not the other way round."
