Omani writer Al-Khattab Al-Mazrouei continues to build his narrative world in his latest short-story collection, Mango Girl, published by Almutawassit Publications. At first glance, the collection draws on familiar and seemingly ordinary elements such as the details of everyday life, the features of places and the weight of memories. Yet within the stories, these elements become windows into deeper questions about human destiny and the nature of existence, conveyed through a concise style that deliberately avoids digression.
اضافة اعلان
Mango Girl contains 16 stories, including “Something of Her Scent,” “The Morgue Refrigerator Attendant,” “Mango Girl,” “A Fragmented Memory,” “Hussein Al-Dahhak,” “What Happens,” “Fantasia of Corona Fish,” “Masoud’s Circles,” “The Kumma,” “The Yellow Room” and “Zafaranah,” among others.
Al-Mazrouei places particular emphasis on setting, which occupies a prominent position in his literary work. Place functions as an active element in shaping the narrative rather than merely serving as a backdrop for events. It is also closely connected to memory and the experiences it preserves, as well as serving as a meeting point between what the characters have lived through and what they face in the present. This gives local geography dimensions that extend beyond its physical boundaries.
Al-Mazrouei has published the novel Memory of the Corvidae, the very-short-story collection A Biography of Fear, and the short-story collections The Last Scent of Place and The Curse of Places. He has also published Confusions, a book on literary texts. His works have been translated into Spanish, English, Japanese and Turkish.
An excerpt from the collection, from the story “Zafaranah,” reads:
“Since finishing the dawn prayer, he had not moved. He simply stretched out his legs on the rug, resting his back against the outer wall of the house. At this hour, he would usually prepare tea and coffee. But he felt something resembling laziness, or perhaps an unwillingness to do anything, as though he were missing something from his life—something he could not explain. He imagined the cat meowing and rubbing its head against his legs, and felt a tightness in his chest whenever he remembered her.
“Anyone watching him from a distance, seeing him remain motionless, might have thought he was a dead banana tree. Every now and then, however, he would press his palms against his cheeks, which resembled a hardened avocado, then insert his index finger and thumb into his eyes to remove the dried discharge around them. His eyesight was so poor that he could see no farther than a meter at most. But his hearing was exceptionally sharp, so he relied on it more than his sight with every step he took. Even when he encountered someone, he did not bother using his eyes to identify them; instead, he left that task to his hearing. If the voice was unfamiliar, he would turn his head toward the speaker to make out their features.”
Source: Asharq Al-Awsat
