Palestinian-American Author Hala Alyan on Connecting With Home Through Storytelling

13.04.2024 - 12:57 / cntraveler.com

Throughout April, we're honoring the ancient Arab tradition of hakawatis, or storytellers, highlighting the writers, performers, and poets who are driving the conversation around what it means to be Arab American today—and celebrating the rich culture and histories of the diaspora.

In her latest collection of poetry, The Moon that Turns You Back, the acclaimed Palestinian-American author Hala Alyan probes the forces that violently separate people from place. She explores the quest for stillness amid perpetual instability, while highlighting the complexities of Palestinian and Arab identity. It’s impossible not to think of the Gaza war while reading Alyan's work. During her book launch at the Brooklyn Public Library in March, the writer gently cried while reciting a poem that conjured her late grandmother, citing the death toll in the besieged strip of land. She was dressed in a robe decorated in tatreez (Palestinian embroidery), her strength of presence a reminder of her years-long commitment to Palestinian storytelling.

Alyan is also the author of two novels: Salt Houses, which tells the story of a displaced Palestinian family as they move through cities like Beirut, Paris, and Boston, and The Arsonists’ City, which follows the Nasr family as they scatter across Beirut, Brooklyn, Austin, and the California desert. Both deal with the question of homes and how we build and rebuild them. Alyan has worked to establish her own by creating a safe space for the local Brooklyn community, especially those of Arab and other minority backgrounds; she periodically holds open-mic poetry readings titled Kan Yama Kan (Once Upon a Time), welcoming budding and experienced writers to her backyard to share their latest works.

Below, the writer discusses the intersection of the personal and political in her work, finding home through community, and the role of art in times of war.

How has this current moment impacted your approach to storytelling, especially as you’ve been writing more nonfiction?

Once I started writing, I felt like I couldn't stop. There was just so much more to say, which does beg the question of what I've been holding back on in my work in other genres [poetry and fiction]. I've been writing with more clarity and sharpness. This moment has called for clarity from a lot of storytellers, artists, and writers. I can see something shift in the way people are communicating. Most of my creative practice has gone into what I’ve felt called to do right now, which is to try to show up with whatever tools I have for this moment. I just know that I've never felt more driven to work in a certain way. It’s a different form of storytelling. It's a much more incisive, unflinching way to tell a story.

Why do you