Rereading ‘Habibi’ is like spending holidays with a dear, old friend

I grew up reading comic-books, devouring the regular superhero fare, with a sprinkling of European greats like Tintin and Asterix. So Habibi was a good thing that felt almost spooky (and I mean this in a really good way). On the cover is a picture of the two central characters, Dodola and Zam in an […]

I grew up reading comic-books, devouring the regular superhero fare, with a sprinkling of European greats like Tintin and Asterix. So Habibi was a good thing that felt almost spooky (and I mean this in a really good way). On the cover is a picture of the two central characters, Dodola and Zam in an embrace. Thompson’s tale is set in the Arab world, and narrated with so much finesse and with so much depth and respect to the landscape it is set in.

But wait, this is Craig Thompson we’re talking about. The story straddled both Islam and Christianity (more of Islam though) in a remarkable way and I smiled when I realised what Craig was up to, his genius were subtle questions and nudges here and there, never spoon-feeding, always leaving the door slightly ajar.

When Dodola, a little girl of not more than twelve is given into marriage to a man about her father’s age, the adventure begins. Why did her father give her away so easily for a small pouch of coins? I couldn’t understand this and was immediately angry with this character, this father I will never see again in the book. It still didn’t make sense when I realised how the people in the land were suffering.

Not very long after, Dodola’s husband (a scribe who teaches her to read and write) is killed by armed robbers and she is left to fend for herself. It isn’t immediately apparent how she meets Zam, a boy of not more than six, in the desert, but like her husband she quickly becomes his teacher. She tells him about Abraham, about his sons Isaac and Ishmael. I sense the author trying to point out a meeting point between Christianity and Islam. She explains how some believe Isaac was the one to be sacrificed and some Ishmael. The Qur’an says Ishmael was a willing participant while the Bible says Isaac was unaware he was the sacrifice, she explained.

I journey with these two characters, Dodola and Zam. Their bond is almost absolute as they struggle to fend for themselves. As Zam grows he struggles with his sexuality. The absence of a father figure and its effect are obvious. He doesn’t know how to approach Dodola with the subject, after all, she’s barely a grown woman herself. It doesn’t help when she prostitutes herself to travellers to fend for them. This realisation hurt Zam deeply and everything he did after then was with that thought in mind.

When they are separated, Zam finds himself with a group of eunuchs, while Dodola becomes one of the Sultan’s concubines. Apparently, there’s so much to eat and drink in the harem while the masses suffer. There’s sex too, so much of it until the Sultan gets bored.

Zam, in a bid to come to terms with his sexuality, allows himself to be castrated. Dodola on the other hand fights to survive in the harem. They are both tormented by their separation. Zam quickly grows into a man, is captured and finds himself in the harem. There, he pretends to be dumb. The day he spots Dodola everything changes. He harbours one single objective: To run away with her.

I haven’t read anything like Habibi, before and after I did. Love has always been a powerful force, but the quest to stay together, between Dodola and Zam is of epic proportions. Plus the gorgeous artwork by Thompson ensured it was impossible to stop reading once I began. His work, even though in black and white, is alive. Each and every page is a masterpiece, and every word a lyric. The story went back and forth, so there was no way I could be satisfied till the very end. It’s no wonder I have read the book more than twice already, and I suspect there will be a third. Perhaps during another Christmas holiday.