His immense self-pity, his demand for sympathy poured and spread itself in pools at her feet, and all she did, miserable sinner that she was, was to draw her skirts a little closer round her ankles, lest she should get wet. In complete silence she stood there, grasping her paint brush.
~ Lily Briscoe’s response to Mr. Ramsay in Virginia Woolf’s To The Lighthouse
I’ve been thinking of this scene from To The Lighthouse, a novel that I have read at least a half dozen times, as the horsemen of the apocalypse continue their erratic assaults on all our systems and institutions. Of course, their doings are more depraved and destructive than Mr. Ramsay’s patriarchal self-pity and narcissism, but there is much to learn from Lily Briscoe’s refusal, her drawing her skirts closer to her ankles, and holding onto her paint brush as a tool and a weapon.
What is pooling at our feet is not water, but shit, because as Steve Bannon had recommended, they are spreading the stuff with great abandon. “The Democrats don’t matter,” Bannon told writer Michael Lewis in 2018. “The real opposition is the media. And the way to deal with them is to flood the zone with shit.”
Journalists are kept busy writing about the latest outrage, and the rest of us are barely able to react to one horrible news item before the next one appears. As AOC put it in a February Instagram live: “It’s important for you to understand that the paralysis and shock that you feel right now is the point,” she continued. “They are trying to induce a state of passivity among the general public.”
We must pay attention to what they are doing, but we can’t afford to let them overwhelm us with their crap to the point that we are paralyzed. I glance at the headlines, read various newsletters on topics that concern me, and check out the social media feeds of trusted sources who cover Palestine, the academy, immigration, climate catastrophe, abortion, and policing. During the horsemen’s last reign, a friend recommended a daily roundup curated by Matt Kiser called WTF Just Happened Today, and I find it particularly helpful—Kiser reads the day’s political news and starts with “what happened today in one sentence.” Below that are paragraphs with links going into more depth for those who are interested.
In addition to keeping abreast of the news (without being inundated), I try to push back against their cruelty in the way that I can each day. It’s up to each of us to decide what we care most about and to find the best people working on that issue and then to act. When people ask my spouse James what they should do in the face of the genocide in Gaza or any of the other depredations we are witnessing, he replies, “Do something.”
Yours in struggle,
Nancy K
READ & LISTEN
A long, thoughtful, and essential piece by Taner Akcam about the crisis in Holocaust and Genocide Studies brought about by the genocidal campaign in Gaza.
Publisher’s Weekly finally ran a review of THE BURNING HEART OF THE WORLD, saying, “…the lyrical latest from Nancy Kricorian…is an impactful story of trauma.”
A piece that I wrote about the Armenian genocide, Gaza, and Columbia that was published on April 24 by YES Magazine.
James’s speech at the 25-hour Columbia Speak Out (his is the second one).
I recorded a Podcast interview with Meat for Tea, and did a print interview with LibraryThing in which I discuss my research process, the female bildungsroman, and things Armenian.
We have gone from a war on an abstract noun (terror) to a war on immigrants and asylum seekers. The southern border has been declared a military zone and crossing any border has left tourists, students, green card holders, and citizens prey to arbitrary questioning and possible detention. Another Columbia student was kidnapped, and in Gaza the genocide continues unabated. No humanitarian aid has entered Gaza since March 2nd of this year, and this week Israeli defense minister Israel Katz announced that none will enter. His brazen remarks about the weaponization of food are basically the trumpeting of a war crime, but who will hold Israel to account?
Yesterday 25-year-old Fatma Hassona, a writer and photographer, was killed in Gaza. In January 2024, she was the sole survivor of an Israeli airstrike that killed most of her. On April 16, she and the remaining members of her family were killed in another airstrike in Gaza City. She was mourned in Gaza by young people who knew her or knew of her work.
Nadera wrote on Facebook, I could not sleep, Fatma, after you were killed. I saw all your photos as if they were glued to my eyelids, and I saw your words and texts that I read over and over in front of me in lines like a fence. Your departure killed me, Fatma, but it also killed our whole generation.
Sahar wrote to me, I’m thinking about Fatma, I think about her fiancé. She had only been engaged for two months, and she dreamed of a good life like any other girl in Gaza. I carry something like a rock on my heart and tonight it feels heavier than that.Fatma is gone. Mahasen, the painter, is gone. Dina, the painter is gone. Dhargham is gone (he was working on presenting small plays for children in tents). Muhammad Sami is gone. He was playing with children in the Baptist Hospital building when it was bombed last year. The friends I know are disappearing one by one. I swear to you that yesterday I felt that Gaza was extinguished, completely extinguished when Fatima left. You don’t know how much Fatima inspired girls like me and Nadera and all of us with her strength and her love for everything. By photographing the beautiful Gaza, which is still beautiful. What do we have left now?
I wrote back to Sahar:
I know that it is so hard because of the suffering of your people, of the destruction of Gaza, and because of the sense of powerlessness in the face of this unrelenting violence and cruelty. I am far from Gaza and in a basically safe place with plenty of food and water, but I struggle here to not give into despair because of this sense of impotence in the face of their depravity (all these horsemen of the apocalypse). I repeat this motto over and again, “The only recognizable feature of hope is action.” And I try to do something every day. Being in touch with you, helping you edit poems, sending your poems out to magazines…working on your graduate school applications, following up on them. These are things that give me hope. I want you to try to keep your eyes and your heart pinned on your bright future. Mourn your losses, suffer for your people, but don’t give up hope.
Repeat after me: The only recognizable feature of hope is action (Grace Paley). Choose your lane, find your people (Mariame Kaba). Freedom is a constant struggle (Angela Davis). The voice of the people is louder than the roar of the cannon (Armenian proverb).
Yours in struggle,
Nancy K
READ
My mentee Nadera Mushtha’s piece on the destruction of Gaza’s cemeteries: This genocide must be stopped, so that our city that was once a calm place for both the living and the dead will stop being a rubble-strewn necropolis.
Ben Ehrenreich’s beautifully written and wrenching piece about the West Bank in Harper’s: The camp’s young men had seen enough to believe that they would be killed whether they fought or not. “So, they started asking themselves, ‘Why wait for them to kill us?’
The following are all pieces related to the launch of my novel earlier this month. An essay I wrote for LitHub about my grandmother, a 1940 Shirley Temple movie, the Armenian Genocide, and my writing life. An interview I did with photojournalist and photo editor Aline Manoukian on the 50th Anniversary of the start of the Lebanese Civil War via Hyperallergic. Kate Tuttle wrote about the new novel for The Boston Globe (sorry it’s behind a paywall). An interview I did with Eleanor Bader for In These Times. Coverage of our The Politics and Poetics of Memory panel on April 1 at OxyArts. A snappy Q & A I did for the Armenian International Women’s Association (AIWA). Coverage of a visit I made to talk with 8th grade students at St. Gregory’s Armenian School in Pasadena.
WATCH & LISTEN
Also related to my book launch. Super dynamic Author2Author Podcast interview I did with Bill Kenower. Video recording of my conversation with Nanore Barsoumian as part of the Literary Lights series on April 15. A Twitter live interview about The Burning Heart of the World with NPR’s Scott Simon for his Open Book series.
SUPPORT
If you would like to support The Burning Heart of the World and you’re a member of Goodreads, you can review and rate the new book here. You can ask your local public library or your neighborhood independent bookstore to order it. Or you can purchase a copy directly from Red Hen Press via IndiePubs.
Part of the job of being a writer is promoting one’s books, and while I love to praise and promote the work of my friends and mentees, I generally feel uncomfortable trumpeting my own. The current political climate creates an added emotional dissonance—in the face of increasing daily violence and moral shocks, how to hustle to sell a book?
These are scary times. Again, in any direction you look people, their rights, and their well-being are under attack. We are reading about the roundup and imprisonment of dissident foreign graduate students, and witnessing the crushing of our institutions (including a front row seat for the capitulation at Columbia). Palestinian poet Mosab Abu Toha canceled a 16-event national tour because he is subject to a doxxing and smear campaign by far-right organization Betar USA, that has been handing over lists of people it wants deported. The situation in Gaza is truly heinous, with food aid rotting at the border while hunger is rampant and bombings continuous. The announced “voluntary migration plan” for the ethnic cleansing of Gaza is truly sickening.
But we somehow need to keep going, to live our lives, to do our work, take care of our families, and gather with organizations and groups that are fighting the worst of these harms. Palestinian poet and writer Mohammed El Kurd posted some words on Twitter that resonated strongly for me:
the basics: fascism thrives on fear. they want you to be silent, to self-censor, to do less. you will not recover whatever ground you concede. the moment calls for caution, not hysteria. courage, not cowardice. if the objective is fear, be unafraid. dissent.
April 2025 is the 50th anniversary of the start of the Lebanese Civil War and the 110th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. My novel reverberates with both of these cataclysms, and it appears at a time when Lebanon and Armenia have just experienced more paroxysms of violence, suffering under existential threats to their sovereignty and territorial integrity. My novel is a journey through these histories and into this burning heart of the world. The title evokes both illumination and conflagration. The world is on fire, and while there is much darkness in the book, there is also humor, empathy and a commitment to amplifying that which is humane in the human. This last is central to my literary project.
The official publication date of my novel is April 1, and I am in Los Angeles for its launch. I have four evening events this week—in conversation at Diesel Books with Talar Chahinian on Monday, a panel discussion with my friends Joanne Nucho, Mashinka Hakopian, and Ara Oshagan on Tuesday at OxyArts, in conversation on Wednesday at the Glendale Central Library with my friend Shahe Mankerian, and a Thursday literary salon featuring poets Lory Bedikian, Arthur Kayzakian, and me hosted by Red Hen Press in Pasadena. The following week in New York, I will be in conversation with Marianne Hirsch at Knox Hall in Morningside Heights on April 7th, and with Raffi Khatchadourian at Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn on April 9. On April 15th I will be in conversation with Nanore Barsoumian at NAASR in Belmont, MA, and on April 17th with Lisa Gulesserian at Porter Square Books in Cambridge. For people who are not in these localities, the April 15th event at NAASR will be hybrid with viewing options via Zoom and YouTube. More events are being scheduled for May and June.
May we find the courage to keep speaking out. May we find the strength to protect each other.
Yours in struggle,
Nancy K
RECOMMENDED READING
Variety: Mark Ruffalo, Penélope Cruz and 500 Oscar Voters Sign Hamdan Ballal Letter
As many of you know, my spouse James teaches at Columbia University, which has again been much in the news. Things have been moving so fast that it’s hard to keep up with a situation that grows ever more dire. On Friday, March 7 when the Horsemen of the Apocalypse announced that Columbia would be losing $400 million in federal research funding, with much of this loss hitting the medical school, James wrote a letter to his fellow Jewish faculty that was subsequently published on LitHub. The ostensible reason for the government’s ire was rampant antisemitism on the Columbia campus. Let us be clear, an administration whose members have been giving Nazi salutes and empowering known white nationalists does not care about actual antisemitism. They are using these charges as a sort of Trojan horse to muscle their way onto campuses to quash dissent and to stage a hostile takeover. They want to do to higher education in America, starting with Columbia, what DeSantis did to New College in Florida. The Education Department sent warning letters to 60 colleges and universities that they are being investigated for antisemitism, using a definition of the term that conflates antizionism with antisemitism and characterizes protest against genocide as illegal support for a U.S.-designated terrorist organization. And at the end of last week they sent a letter to Columbia that was a hodgepodge of wild demands. Meanwhile, the Columbia Jewish Alumni Association and far-right Betar U.S., the latter of which created and shared with the horsemen a list of students they want targeted for deportation, are at the very least cheering from the sidelines.
The day after James penned his letter, Department of Homeland Security plainclothes officers followed a recently graduated Columbia grad student named Mahmoud Khalil into his university housing, effectively kidnapping him in front of his pregnant and horrified wife, who filmed the proceedings on her phone. By Sunday evening, he had been, without due process, whisked to an ICE detention facility in Louisiana and stripped of his residency status. He is not accused of any crime—he is being targeted because of his role as a mediator in the anti-genocide protests on the campus and statements he has made against the carnage in Gaza. The Center for Constitutional Rights, the ACLU, and CUNY Clear attorneys are representing Mahmoud Khalil in his fight against his incarceration and possible deportation. A federal judge issued a stay preventing his removal while the case is adjudicated.
Last Monday afternoon Columbia faculty held a press conference in support of Mahmoud and denouncing the university administration’s draconian punishments against student protesters. Professor Marianne Hirsch, who is a Holocaust scholar and the child of survivors, gave a moving and impassioned speech about growing up in a totalitarian dictatorship in Romania and the echoes of that experience in Mahmoud’s mistreatment. Professor Nadia Abu El-Haj spoke about the twisted notion of campus “safety” that has been employed by people who don’t want students protesting what is happening in Gaza and the West Bank, and about the fact that it is Mahmoud Khalil who is not safe.
On Thursday, the phenomenal organizers of Jewish Voice for Peace and JVP NYC staged a mass civil disobedience action in Trump Tower in Midtown Manhattan calling for the release of Mahmoud Khalil. Among their banners were ones saying: FIGHT NAZIS, NOT STUDENTS; JEWS FOR PALESTINIAN FREEDOM; and NEVER AGAIN FOR ANYONE. I was unable to join them because I was home sick with COVID (another story), but James was there, and was quoted in the New York Times coverage:
James Schamus, a Columbia professor who participated in the protest and is Jewish, said he thought the notion that the campus was “somehow a hotbed of antisemitic intolerance” was ridiculous.
“We all know that if anything, Columbia is a hotbed of students raising their voice and conscience, and in protest against the inhumane policies that this regime is imposing,” he said.
Since the start of the genocide in Gaza, this has been a fight with two fronts—one struggle is to stop the mass violence against civilians being carried out with our tax dollars and with the full participation of our government, and the second is to resist the repression of political dissent in this country. To be clear, the Biden Administration’s full throttle support for Israel’s murderous campaign in Gaza, coupled with its demonization of the student protests, set the stage for what we are seeing now.
It’s a scary time—they are doxxing, harassing, and targeting individuals to cow the rest of us into submission. One of our neighbors, a brilliant Columbia research scientist named Jennifer Manly, was just denounced on the front page of the New York Post. As another of our neighbors put it in a group email, “Their attack on her shows how little any of this has to do with antisemitism or even with Gaza. This one is just a straight up attack on Jen’s work on race and the social determinants of health.” They are out to destroy livelihoods and lives, as was done during the McCarthy era. Keeping in mind relative risk and relative privilege, we must all do what we can to protect each other and to stand for what we know is right.
Nancy Kricorian
*
LISTEN
An excellent episode of The Dig podcast, featuring Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò, Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor and Mike McCarthy on the MAGA and DOGE war on woke. It’s LONG, but the first hour is particularly good, and I found Keeanga’s trenchant analysis to be helpful.
Interview with the ever-brilliant Palestinian novelist Adana Shibli.
Muskism and McCarthyism: Fascinating discussion with political science professor Corey Robin about fear in the workplace. “Fear is an amplification method. Governments only have a certain level of coercive power; they can’t map, let along control, all of society. What they can do is use fear to extend the coercive power they do have further than it might otherwise god. Fear, then, is a way of getting people to do what you want them to do, without having to exercise the coercive power that might otherwise be necessary to get them to do it.”
The official publication date of my new novel THE BURNING HEART OF THE WORLD is April 1, but friends have told me they are already receiving their preordered copies. Nanore Barsoumian wrote a beautiful and thoughtful review in The Armenian Weekly. Library Journal said, This is a fast-moving, relatable story that would be a good addition to a historical fiction section or fiction of special interest to women. Fans of Lisa Wingate and Chris Bohjalian will also enjoy it.
The first phase of the Gaza ceasefire started on Sunday, and my friends in Gaza experienced the relief of knowing that they had survived fifteen months of a relentless and brutal military campaign against them. One friend went to the shore for the first time in months without fear of being killed by a drone or a quadcopter. Another said they felt joy akin to that of a national holiday, despite the devastating losses that they were still reckoning with. Much is still unknown about what comes next, but there is hope and there will be nights without the constant sounds of missiles, rockets, and drones. I have heard that Trump may force Netanyahu to stick to the phased agreement because Trump, ever in competition with Obama, wants a Nobel Peace Prize and he also wants a deal between Saudi and Israel. Trump has no ideological commitments, unlike Biden who is an avowed Zionist, and perhaps in this case his self-interest will result in something less horrible. May Gaza rise like a phoenix from these ashes and mounds of rubble.
With the ascendancy of Trump and his horsemen of the apocalypse, I’m going to take my news in controlled daily doses. They want us exhausted and demoralized, so we’re going to have to pace ourselves for the hard work ahead.
In other news, when esteemed fiction writer and Nobel laureate Alice Munro died in May 2024, the obituaries were full of praise and the remembrances were glowing. In July, Munro’s daughter Andrea Robin Skinner published a piece entitled, “My Stepdad Abused Me. My Mother Chose to Stay with Him” that reverberated like a bombshell throughout the literary world. Skinner detailed the sexual assault she suffered at the hands of Munro’s second husband and the woefully inadequate way that her parents responded to the abuse when they learned about it, her father months after the incident and her mother years later.
In the 80’s and 90’s, Munro had been one of my favorite writers, and I still have my copies of her books on the shelf. When I read her 1994 Paris Review interview, I had copied out a few lines that I loved into my book of quotations.
I’m doing less personal writing now than I used to for a very simple obvious reason. You use up your childhood, unless you’re able, like William Maxwell, to keep going back and finding wonderful new levels in it. The deep, personal material of the latter half of your life is your children. You can write about your parents when they’re gone, but your children are still going to be here, and you’re going to want them to come and visit you in the nursing home.Maybe it’s advisable to move on to writing those stories that are more observation.
In December, heavily researched pieces about the deeply disturbing story of her daughter’s abuse and Munro’s reactions to it, including ways the writer plumbed the experience in her fiction, were published in The New York Times, The New York Review of Books, and The New Yorker. Writers took to social media to express their dismay and disappointment about someone they had considered to be a literary model, and there were a number of articles about how this new knowledge informs readings of her work.
Last week, New York Magazine dropped an article entitled “There is No Safe Word” about writer Neil Gaiman’s years of sexual predation, which he denied in a statement that I found less than convincing. His former spouse Amanda Palmer didn’t come off too well either. I wish I hadn’t encountered some of the grim details described in the piece, and you might want to read about the article rather than reading the thing itself.
What are we to do about the work we admire by people that we discover have done hideous things? Cultural critic Glen Wheldon has decided to keep past books, but not to engage with future work (which is not an option with Munro, who is no longer alive and writing). I often think about Louis Ferdinand Celine, whose vertiginous and compelling 1932 novel Voyage Au Bout de La Nuit I read and loved when I was a grad student in Paris. How to reconcile the fact that this brilliant author also wrote virulently anti-Semitic pamphlets and embraced fascism? In the New Yorker, Adam Gopnik claims that, “You can’t separate what’s powerful about his writing from his vile anti-Semitism.” He goes on to suggest that the work and the man require a compound response: “an ability to admire, a refusal to censor, and a readiness to condemn.” I find myself, in this rare instance, agreeing with him.
Yours in struggle,
Nancy Kricorian
Recommended reading
Mohammed El-Kurd’s new book PERFECT VICTIMS will be published by Haymarket Books on February 11, and you can pre-order a copy here.
An excellent piece by Jane Partizpanyan via the Armenian Weekly about Genocide in Gaza, a media cover-up, and our moral obligation as Armenians.
Also from the Armenian Weekly, Armenian Women Bake Bread and Hope: “…during the blockade, we understood what bread truly means — standing in line all night for just one loaf and returning home empty-handed without knowing how to feed our children.”
Samia Saliba has made a list of 31 recommended SWANA books being published in the first half of 2025, and my novel THE BURNING HEART OF THE WORLD (which can be preordered here) is included.
Recommended viewing
Wonderful lecture on the origins of Armenian-American music by Ara Dinkjian via Houshamadyan.
Last week’s excitement was the arrival of the advanced reading copies of my novel THE BURNING HEART OF THE WORLD from Red Hen Press. (You may preorder the novel from Bookshop by using this link that supports the International Armenian Literary Alliance.) I am in the process of correcting the page proofs, and I have been working with the publicist to set up book events for the spring. The full details are not yet available but below is an overview of the current lineup.
March 26-29 AWP Conference in Los Angeles, events at the Red Hen Press booth
Monday, March 31 at Diesel Books in Brentwood, in conversation with Talar Chahinian
Tuesday, April 1 panel at OxyArts with Mashinka Firunts Hakopian, Joanne Nucho, Ara Oshagan
Wednesday, April 2 at the Glendale Public Library in conversation with Shahe Mankerian
Thursday, April 3 at Red Hen Press in Pasadena with poets Lory Bedikian and Arthur Kayzakian
Monday, April 7 at Columbia University in conversation with Marianne Hirsch
Wednesday, April 9 at Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn in conversation with Raffi Khatchadourian
Tuesday, April 15 at NAASR in Belmont in conversation with Nanore Barsoumian
Thursday, April 17 at Porter Square Books in Cambridge in conversation with Lisa Gulesserian
Sunday, April 27 in the Detroit area for the local Armenian community
It’s December now and we have a winter to get through, but April and the book launch are on the horizon.
When I was growing up, each year in December, our small Armenian Evangelical Church would put on a Christmas pageant featuring a manger scene, complete with the requisite holy family, three kings, some shepherds, and an array of angels. We sang carols from a small white booklet with red-cheeked choir boys on the cover, and among my favorites were “We Three Kings of Orient Are,” probably because of the dirgeful key, and “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” Just now when I was thinking of the chorus of that second song, I misremembered it as “tidings of comfort and light,” when it is actually “comfort and joy.”
Joy seems a bit too ambitious for this holiday season as the horsemen of the apocalypse, many more than four of them, are galloping towards us. I’ve lately stopped asking people, “How are you?” which is too fraught a question in these troubled times, and instead have been saying, “It’s so good to see you.” And there is nothing better right now than gathering in the real world with friends, family, and comrades. We need each other now more than ever.
Wishing you comfort and light,
Nancy K
THIS MONTH’S RECOMMENDATIONS
READ
The latest issue of Wasafiri Magazine, entitled Armenia(n)s—Elevation is now available for purchase. My essay “His Driving Life,” about my late father and his relationship to motor vehicles, is available for free download to the first 50 readers. If you miss the chance for the free version, let me know and I will send you the PDF.
A powerful essay about life in Shujaiya in Northern Gaza entitled The Mirror by Nadera Mushtha, one of my We Are Not Numbers mentees. (Nadera’s GoFundMe is here.)
“The Bullet,” a poem by Sahar Rabah, translated from the Arabic by Ammiel Alcalay. Sahar was accepted into the MFA Program in Creative Writing at Rutgers/Newark, but she has had to defer her admission because she is unable to leave Gaza. The crossings are closed to all but a handful of severely injured people who have been allowed to evacuate for medical care abroad.
The Intercept’s Briefing “Syria: What Comes Next?” is an excellent and informative interview with Syrian journalist Rami Jarrah.
WATCH
Indiewire’s 17 Best First Films of 2024 includes our progeny Noah’s Summer Solstice, which is described as a “sun-dappled and warmly directed buddy comedy.” If you haven’t yet seen it, the film is currently streaming on several platforms.
After the dismal, if predictable, election results, I am trying not to get sucked into the vortex of constant doom scrolling. The incoming administration’s motto seems to be “A fox in every henhouse,” and they want us shocked and incapacitated. The fascist clown car is coming for us all, with immigrants at the top of the list for unspeakable cruelty. We’re going to be running around putting out fires on every corner, and it really has an end of empire vibe. Perhaps the scariest prospect is their plan for an extractavist carnival when we have such a short time to turn climate catastrophe around. Everyone I know is thinking about how best to organize for resistance—I keep hearing Mariam Kaba’s advice: “Choose your lane, find your people.” I will continue working on Palestine and immigrant justice, lanes where I have connections, some knowledge, and a few skills.
I am still mentoring three young writers in and from Gaza—two are still in Gaza (one in the north where starvation is rampant and ethnic cleansing is underway, and one in central Gaza where regular missile attacks and food scarcity hold sway) and the third escaped to Malaysia. Each morning, I check my messages to make sure they and their families have survived the night. Their suffering is immense, but the bravery and ingenuity with which they face each day are remarkable. My mentee Nadera Mushtha wrote an eloquent piece about giving English lessons in her home to young students whose schools had been destroyed.
The situation in Lebanon is also heartbreaking where my friends in Beirut are being terrorized by drones, planes, and missiles. Israel continues using its Gaza playbook—targeting hospitals, medics, and civilian apartment buildings, while pulverizing entire villages in the south. There is talk of a ceasefire deal, something that is being reported as a planned gift from one depraved authoritarian to another.
While immediate and medium-term prospects are bleak, we must find ways to keep ourselves sane and ready for action. I have shifted away from spending time on Musk’s increasingly hostile X/Twitter, which has been losing prominent users, to more hospitable Bluesky, which now has over 20 million users and has seen traffic increase by 500% since the election. You can find me on Bluesky here. You will also find me walking in Central Park and on country roads, looking for birds and mushrooms.
We need to gather in the real world with like-minded people and build the power of our groups and institutions to protect ourselves and others. We will need to defend public libraries, public schools, universities, Social Security, immigrants, LGBTQ rights, abortion rights, Palestine, and the planet. Choose your lane, find your people. Friends and comrades are and will be our refuge.
Yours in struggle,
Nancy K
RECOMMENDED READING
In response to thirteen months of genocide in Gaza, over 7,000 writers, myself among them, have now pledged to boycott complicit Israeli cultural institutions.
Mosab Abu Toha’s new poetry collection, FOREST OF NOISE was published last month. You can listen to an excellent and moving interview with Mosab on the LARB Radio Hour.
Swedish climate organizer Greta Thunberg penned a powerful op-ed in The Guardian decrying the hypocrisy of the petro-dictatorship of Azerbaijan’s hosting COP29. She went to Armenia, where she visited the genocide memorial and later learned how to make Jingalov Hatz.
Wasafiri 120, an issue of the UK literary journal devoted to Armenia and Armenians, is now available for pre-order. My new essay about my father, entitled “His Driving Life,” is included.
Greetings, dear friends. In this most horrific of times as we continue to watch a livestreamed genocide in Gaza, I’m sending you a quick note about two upcoming events. Both are benefits for organizations providing medical care and psychosocial support to Palestinian children.
On Saturday, November 9th from 3-5 p.m. on Zoom, I will be offering a workshop entitled Life Stories that is part of Workshops for Gaza, which organizes online classes and workshops on a variety of topics to raise money for Palestinians who are trying to survive the ongoing genocide of their people and the destruction of their homeland.
LIFE STORIES: In this workshop with novelist Nancy Kricorian, participants will use family stories and oral history as a point of departure for writing fiction and narrative nonfiction. Participants will read short prose pieces by authors such as Grace Paley, Jayne Anne Phillips, and William Saroyan, then work on a series of in-class writing exercises to be shared and discussed.
I have selected the Ghassan Abu Sittah Children’s Fund as the recipient of monies from my workshop. In 2017 when I was on a research trip to Beirut, I met Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah, a plastic and reconstructive surgeon who is a close friend of a friend. As I listened to his stories at a café in Hamrah, I was impressed by the work he did with children who had been injured in war zones. When the genocide started in Gaza I was amazed and awed to see him in news reports from the besieged hospitals in the Strip.
You can sign up for the workshop here. You may donate to the Ghassan Abu Sittah Children’s Fund here.
Also on November 9th, I will be participating in a reading entitled Translators Against Genocide from 6-8 p.m. at The People’s Forum in Manhattan. I’m a bit of a cuckoo’s egg as a novelist in this lineup of literary translators, including my friends Susan Bernofsky, Nick Glastonbury, and Kira Joseffson. The event is part of the Writers for Palestine series and will be a benefit for the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund.
Screenshot
I’ll write a longer message soon. In the meantime, please read Arundhati Roy’s brilliant PEN Pinter Prize acceptance speech. And as poet Eileen Myles tells us, do everything you can to stop the U.S.-sponsored genocide in Gaza and mass murder in Lebanon.
On the first day of classes at Columbia yesterday, some students poured red paint over the Alma Mater statue in the Quad as an opening salvo. My photo of the bloodied statue, a symbol that there would be no business as usual on the campus as the U.S. sponsored assault on Gaza continued, went viral on X.
I am in touch almost daily with my mentees in and from Gaza, so I hear their firsthand accounts of what they and their families are living. You can read their work: Sahar Rabah has two poems in The Markaz Review, and We Are Not Numbers posted Nadera Mushtha’s essay about the destruction of her family’s olive grove.
As this genocide grinds into its twelfth month, my young friends sound increasingly despairing. The driving rain over the weekend flooded tents, destroying people’s belongings and raising the specter of waterborne diseases. Every week someone loses another family friend, a cousin, or a former professor to an Israeli bombing attack in a civilian area. As another young person I know put it, “There are no humanitarian areas in Gaza; every corner is soaked in blood.”
In addition to my work with We Are Not Numbers, I have been volunteering with the Gaza Scholarship Initiative for Displaced Students, which is helping to find spots in U.S. and European institution of higher learning for undergraduate and graduate students whose universities have been destroyed. Some of these students, the ones who managed to exit Gaza before the Rafah crossing was wrecked and sealed, are already on U.S. campuses. Some of them are still trapped in Gaza, their universities having deferred their admissions to the Spring semester. Sahar is one of these students; she should be at Rutgers in the MFA Program in Creative Writing right now, and the hope is that she will be able to get to Cairo as soon as the border opens so she can fly to the U.S. in December for a January start in Newark.
When will the genocide stop? When will the border open? And how can we speak of Gaza without mentioning the horrors currently going on in the West Bank, as Israeli politicians threaten to turn it into a “mini-Gaza”?
I heard a former Israeli hostage negotiator named Gershon Baskin on Democracy Now this morning talking about how to come to a deal to end the carnage in Gaza, and he said, “…it will take extreme American pressure on Netanyahu to make a deal. And the Americans have the pressure, if they were to choose to use it.”
Vice-President and presidential contender Kamala Harris claimed that she was heartbroken over the scale of the suffering in Gaza; she claimed that the Biden Administration has been working around the clock for months to get a ceasefire deal. As Palestinian-American poet, novelist, and psychologist Hala Alyan put it in her recent New York Times Op-Ed,
I appreciate Ms. Harris’s broken heart. What I’d appreciate more is a direct naming of who is killing and starving Palestinians, acts that are neither inevitable nor without a perpetrator. I’d appreciate the upholding of international law through sanctions and an arms embargo.
Red Hen Press, which is celebrating its 30th Anniversary this year and will be publishing my new novel in April 2025, received a great writeup in Publishers Weekly.
I wanted to share this brilliant and moving piece, entitled “Gloves On,” by Anne Carson about “the black doorway” and living with Parkinson’s Disease.
It’s unsettling to carry on with daily rituals and activities while Israel’s genocidal assault on Gaza rages on. Each morning, I check to see what horror unfolded while I was asleep, looking for mentions of the areas where my mentees and their families are sheltering. Each day I communicate with Haya, Sahar, and Nadera about their various writing and educational projects. I continue my involvement with Writers Against the War on Gaza, and use my social media platforms to amplify the reports coming out of Gaza and the West Bank. None of it feels like enough. To keep myself from an unending cycle of despair, anxiety, and rage, I have been spending time in the woods and the meadow as a kind of walking meditation.
The other morning after a night of pouring rain, I went for a walk on the trails behind our house. There were so many Red Efts on the path, that I had to watch my feet so I wouldn’t step on them. I started counting them as I walked, and quickly reached two dozen. I have been fascinated with these creatures since I was in sixth grade and a boy in our class brought in a terrarium with three that he was keeping as pets.
I think of the Red Eft as the teenager form of the Eastern Newt, which is a type of salamander that lives in this region. When they first hatch in the vernal pond, they are aquatic larvae or tadpoles that breathe underwater. In their next phase, they become Red Efts, which are orange with two rows of red dots circled in black down their backs. At this point, they are terrestrial and breathe air. After two to three years, they change again to their final adult aquatic form, when their coloration shifts to a dull olive green back with a yellow belly. But they still have the black-rimmed spots. An Eastern Newt can live in the wild for up to eight or ten years but have been recorded to live to fifteen.
I’ve also been watching the Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds at the feeder outside my study window. They fly circuits around the yard, sipping nectar from flowers and the feeder.
The only hummingbirds found in the northeastern United States, they are very territorial, and there are lots of buzzy altercations. The adult male has the eponymous iridescent red throat, and its tail feathers are pointed and dark. The adult female and juvenile male and female have white throats and white tips on the outer tail feathers.
Recently, I have also seen twin White-Tailed Deer fawns grazing in the meadow behind the house, their mother always within a few yards. Several years ago, Djuna and I were walking in the woods when we wandered off the trail and discovered a days-old fawn sleeping in a hollow under a fallen tree. Luckily, I had learned that it was fine for a fawn to be left alone for up to twelve hours at a time while its mother foraged for food. In fact, it was safer for a newborn like this to stay on its own because it blended into the forest and hadn’t yet developed an odor that would attract predators. When White-Tailed Deer fawns are born, they have white spots on their sides. These spots disappear when they are between three to six months old and grow in their winter coats. In our area, the spots are generally gone by October.
It’s been raining all week, and the other day during a blustery downpour, I looked out the bedroom window to see two dozen House Finches perched under the eaves of our front porch. That made me wonder what all the other birds were doing in the foul weather brought to our region by Hurricane Debbie. Birds that nest in cavities, such as Chickadees, can take shelter there. Birds that roost on branches, such as Blue Jays, perch on a thick branch next to the tree’s trunk during a storm.
What’s the difference between a frog and a toad? Frogs have smooth, damp skin and toads have dry, bumpy skin. Frogs have longer legs made for jumping and swimming. Toads tend to have shorter legs. Frogs tend to live near a body of water because they need to keep their skin moist, but toads can be found in the forest. Tree frogs need to be near water, but they aren’t great swimmers.
How can you tell the difference between a butterfly and a moth? Butterflies have smooth, club-like antennae and moths have feathered or branched antennae with no rounded club shape at the end. We generally think of butterflies as having large, brightly colored wings, but Skippers are a group of small, chunky butterflies, and several species are drab gray or brown.
And now on a few other topics…
My friends at the International Armenian Literary Alliance (IALA) posted about the upcoming publication of my novel THE BURNING HEART OF THE WORLD. If you pre-order the book through this link, IALA receives a small portion of the proceeds.
For Tempest Magazine, our daughter Djuna wrote a clear-eyed and disturbing piece about Israel’s use of artificial intelligence to generate “kill lists” in Gaza.
My new We Are Not Numbers Mentee (WANN) Nadera wrote a poem called “The Child and the Olive Tree.” My former WANN mentee Hossam managed to evacuate to Cairo a few months ago, but he and his siblings are now in need of financial support because they can’t get work permits in Egypt.
