Isabella Hammad- ‘I heard Edward Said speak when I was seven’

Isabella Hammad, a 33-year-old novelist with roots in both Palestine and Britain, has recently been recognized as one of Granta’s best young British novelists. With her debut novel, *The Parisian* (2019), and her most recent work, *Enter Ghost*, which was shortlisted for this year’s Women’s Prize, Hammad is making a significant mark in the literary world. Her latest project, *Recognising the Stranger*, emerged from a lecture she presented last fall at Columbia University, honoring the influential Palestinian-American scholar Edward Said. The event, which has also featured notable figures like Noam Chomsky and Daniel Barenboim, provided Hammad with a platform to discuss “narrative turning points” in the context of the Palestinian experience. Currently a fellow at the New York Public Library in Manhattan, she took the time to share her perspectives with me.

As a novelist, do you ever find yourself hesitant to write nonfiction?

“I don’t see myself as an essayist; my experience with essays has been quite limited. When I do write them, they typically take the form of creative works that delve into literary criticism rather than traditional journalism. My primary identity is as a novelist, where I feel most comfortable. Yet, there have been moments where my anger has compelled me to express something urgent. Novel writing is a lengthy process and serves a different purpose—it’s not about forming arguments or sharing personal viewpoints. Given the current genocide, I’ve felt a strong impulse to write nonfiction as a reaction to the world around me.”

Your lecture on September 28, 2023, was followed by a poignant afterword written in January during the ongoing crisis in Gaza. How did that transition impact you?

“Rereading it was quite difficult, particularly as I reflect on horrors that have since become increasingly worse. The lecture itself was reflective, but the afterword reveals a dramatic shift. In the wake of such atrocious events, it’s not a time for grappling with complex moral dilemmas.”

You’ve mentioned that the devastation in Palestine has shattered illusions for many. Can you explain that further?

“Certainly, there’s no going back now. I described Israel as ‘a militarized society where dissent is punished’ and likened October 7 to an ‘incredibly violent jailbreak.’ I aimed to be clear: referring to October 7 as an invasion misrepresents the reality of a population living under occupation. You can’t claim self-defense against those you are militarily occupying. Unfortunately, mainstream media often marginalizes Palestinian voices, focusing instead on the Israeli perspective, which only fortifies an apartheid regime while genocide unfolds against a captive population. My goal is to use precise language—it’s the least we can do.”

Did you encounter any editorial challenges while tackling these subjects?

“I’ve felt very supported by my team. We examined the text closely and refined certain phrases, but that’s just part of good editing.”

Can you tell me about your first encounter with Edward Said?

“I was quite young compared to many who speak fondly of him. I think I only heard him speak once when I was around seven or eight years old, and I ended up falling asleep. However, I began to engage with his work more deeply during my university years. His ideas permeated cultural discourse, so I recognized the notion of ‘orientalism’ long before I read my father’s old copy of *Orientalism* during a summer in Palestine—it was filled with his teenage annotations. While his arguments have their flaws, he evolved significantly in his thinking throughout his career. He has had an immense influence, and I sometimes worry that his emphasis on discourse might overshadow the need to consider material realities, especially regarding American identity politics.”

Was there a particular book that ignited your desire to write?

“As a child, I remember carrying around a worn Penguin anthology of surrealist poetry with an eye-catching cover of a blue woman with a butterfly on her face. One poem particularly captivated me, comparing crashing waves to eggshells. If ‘wanting to write’ is about the urge to play with language, I think that impulse came from those literary works that were meant for adults, which I found intriguing even if I didn’t fully grasp them at the time.”

What are you currently working on?

“I’m in the process of developing a novel that takes place partly during the 1955 Asia-Africa conference in Bandung, Indonesia, and features a secretary and a photographer as my main characters.”

Can you describe your writing routine?

“In an ideal scenario, I write in the mornings and read in the afternoons. Currently, I’m balancing multiple research topics, so I often find myself reading in the mornings as well. Ideally, I prefer to write first thing before any interactions, though that’s not always achievable.”

How do you view the future?

“I’m not a prophet, but I see a growing number of people, previously disconnected from Palestinian issues, feeling devastated by what they observe. This crisis has shattered many perceptions about their own societies and governments, as well as the limits of destruction deemed possible. While it doesn’t convey optimism, I believe we can’t simply revert to the way things were—whatever that might entail.”

*Recognising the Stranger: On Palestine and Narrative* is set to be released on September 26 by Fern Press for £9.99. To support the Guardian and Observer, consider ordering a copy at guardianbookshop.com, though delivery charges may apply.