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Kaleem Hawa

Kaleem Hawa has written about art, film, and literature for the New York Review of Books, The Nation, and Artforum, among others.



Articles Available Online


Hating it Lush: On Tel Aviv

ESSAY

May 2023

KALEEM HAWA

ESSAY

May 2023

I   They made the desert bloom, tall sparkling towers and clean Bauhaus lines, and apple-ring acacias, and teal blue shuttle buses, and stock...

POETRY

Issue No. 28

Three poems from issue 28

SARAH BARNSLEY

VALZHYNA MORT

KALEEM HAWA

POETRY

Issue No. 28

Valzhyna Mort, ‘Music for Girl’s Voice and Bison’   Sarah Barnsley, ‘Virginia Woolf Has Fallen Over’   Kaleem Hawa,...

The Dispossessed is Szilárd Borbély’s first novel, although he has been active – and widely acclaimed – as a poet, literary historian and essayist for more than twenty years Its first print run sold out almost immediately To state that the book has touched a raw nerve in today’s Hungary is something of an understatement; nonetheless, Borbély’s portrayal of growing up in the country’s rural northeast during the beginning of the Kádár era (1956-1988) haunts the reader for its unsparing truthfulness and attention to small details The novel’s narrator is a child – possibly Jewish, although he himself is uncertain about it – who registers and remembers colours, scents and sounds from the unchanging brutal microcosm that is impoverished village life A historical note: The Arrow Cross was a fascist political organisation, allied with Nazi Germany, that held power in Hungary from 15 October 1944 to 28 March 1945 Under Ferenc Szálasi’s rule, the Arrow Cross oversaw the murder of approximately 200,000 Budapest Jews, as well as continuing the deportations of rural Jews to Auschwitz which had begun under the previous government of Admiral Miklós Horthy Béla Kun was a Communist revolutionary and leader of the short-lived Hungarian Soviet Republic of 1919 Overthrown by Admiral Horthy, Kun fled to the Soviet Union, where he was killed in Stalin’s purges —OM   —   When Mózsi came back from the forced labour camp, he no longer looked like a Jew He was just like anyone else He came back like the other refugees who were looking for their homes, their belongings, the families left behind here Like everyone else who could not stop living He lugged the burden that was life He was bald, and he wore a threadbare soldier’s uniform His luxuriant hair of old, his curled ear locks, were nowhere to be seen No longer did he wear his black caftan Nor his hat Nor his white shirt Never again the mourning-shirt fringed at the corners, which the men had always worn In the village, nobody talked about what had happened to these clothes Mózsi too did not ask

CONTRIBUTOR

November 2019

Kaleem Hawa

CONTRIBUTOR

November 2019

Kaleem Hawa has written about art, film, and literature for the New York Review of Books, The Nation, and...

after Mahmoud Darwish    Why is a boy an exclamation,  and why are his dead a period?,  why do his sinews tighten when he sees  a Palestinian body? Does his vision narrow  because of their flight,  or because their world is raining with salt?  Why is a boy with a gun different  from a boy with a jail cell?,  if the tools of rupture are our arms for  repurposing the body, and the arms of  the state are our means of repurposing the male,  are we finally useful and breathing and nervous…?  Does the white mean Night’s arrival?,  or does night signal the white’s escape?,  and when that white city boy becomes  a White City man,  does the hate in his heart subside?,  or does it become an ellipses,  a Bauhaus history of stories started  and left unfinished 
You Arrive at A White Checkpoint and Emerge Unscathed

PRIZE ENTRY

November 2019

KALEEM HAWA


READ NEXT

feature

June 2014

Turning the Game Around

Daniel Galera

TR. Rahul Bery

feature

June 2014

Once upon a time there was – no, better: you are a thief who wanders through the cities and...

poetry

April 2017

Two Poems

Fady Joudah

poetry

April 2017

EUROPA AND THE BULL   The boat was loaded on a truck. The truck took me to the border....

poetry

Issue No. 4

Mysteries of Music

Michael Horovitz

poetry

Issue No. 4

Having absently, that’s to say dozily switched on BBC Radio 3 down in the kitchen as is my frequent...

 

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