Naguib Mahfouz

As some of you may have heard, the Noble prize-winning author Naguib Mahfouz has died this week, at the age of 94. He received the Noble prize in 1988 in recognition of his high quality literature that mostly deals with life in Egypt, his beloved home country. Mahfouz is one of the few authors outside of Europe that have received the glamourous prize in literature.

It’s somehow sad (and for me very symptomatic) that I haven’t read any of Mahfouz’ books, and that he has to die to remind me of the couple of books of his that I have standing in my shelf. I have been thinking of reading them, but I just haven’t got up to it until now. Sorry, Mahfouz.
The one I have started reading now is called Miramar, and the next one I will read is called Respected Sir. Check back in a while and I’ll tell you what I think of them. (It feels like I am obliged to give him good grades on the books, to make amends for the insolence that I showed by not rading his books until he was dead… but we’ll see.)

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