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Translated from the Arabic and introduced by Fady Joudah, You Can
Be the Last Leaf draws on two decades of work to present the
transcendent and timely US debut of Palestinian poet Maya Abu
Al-Hayyat. Art. Garlic. Taxis. Sleepy soldiers at checkpoints. The
smell of trash on a winter street, before "our wild rosebush,
neglected / by the gate, / blooms." Lovers who don't return, the
possibility that you yourself might not return. Making beds.
Cleaning up vomit. Reading recipes. In You Can Be the Last Leaf,
these are the ordinary and profound-sometimes tragic, sometimes
dreamy, sometimes almost frivolous-moments of life under Israeli
occupation. Here, private and public domains are inseparable.
Desire, loss, and violence permeate the walls of the home, the
borders of the mind. And yet that mind is full of its own fierce
and funny voice, its own preoccupations and strangenesses. "It
matters to me," writes Abu Al-Hayyat, "what you're thinking now /
as you coerce your kids to sleep / in the middle of shelling":
whether it's coming up with "plans / to solve the world's
problems," plans that "eliminate longing from stories, remove
exhaustion from groans," or dreaming "of a war / that's got no war
in it," or proclaiming that "I don't believe in survival." In You
Can Be the Last Leaf, Abu Al-Hayyat has created a richly textured
portrait of Palestinian interiority-at once wry and romantic,
worried and tenacious, and always singing itself.
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