· Born in
· Graduated from the Faculty of Commerce,
· Member of the Egyptian Writers League
· Member of The Story Club in
· Member of the Egyptian Film Society
Her ardent love for writing did not come as a mere outlet from a suffocating social and political climate, but because she needed to highlight her perspective on a lot of issues—democracy, social justice, freedom, women’s rights.
Rarely have my husband and I favoured the same writers, but when it came to Neimat al-Beheiri, there was no question we were both enamoured of her works. It was thus with a sense of heartbreak that we learnt last week of her passing away after a long, hard fight with cancer.
Beheiri began publishing her works in the 1980s. She penned short stories and novels in a flowing, distinctive style, and was considered an expert in analysing the feminine psyche and in uncovering the deep layers of the human mind. Even though Beheiri was considered one of the most influential feminist writers, she propagated no pretentious slogans, but wrote as though her sole aim was to confront the world with powerful words that reverberated with truth. For Beheiri, writing was a life mission; in it she lodged all her might, even throughout the most painful moments of weakness and sickness.
Beheiri’s writings were varied and numerous. She wrote stories for children and works for television. Yet she always felt that critics were particularly harsh on female writers, which drove her to practise some degree of self-censorship.
Fantasia
Beheiri’s earlier writing explored situations and processed mindsets in a romantic style that bordered on fantasia; she later matured into more pragmatic, illuminating writing that penetrated deep into the human soul. In one of her earlier short stories which strongly hinted at her growing rebellion, she depicts a situation where, absolutely fed-up with the choking
Poignant
Diaries of a Radiating Woman depicts her quest for perseverance in the face of suffering. She passionately recounts her experience with medicines, injections, surgery, radio- and chemotherapy. She writes poignantly of going through different sized medical apparatuses and, most terrible of all, having to confront the cold, expressionless faces of the technicians who operate them. Her faithful recount of her experience and innermost dilemma was the only way she could wriggle out of that deadly predicament.
She comments on her familiarity with pain: “I transcended pain and boredom all my life and tried to deal with the needs I lacked by rising above them. I rose above loneliness, poverty, my stagnant career as a government employee, male oppression and all forms of social condemnation usually levelled at a woman who lives alone, unsupported, with no man to back her up.”
“I confess”
Since early childhood Beheiri felt restless and uncomfortable. She only enjoyed tranquillity amid gardens, fields, the desert, and open spaces.
As she undergoes MRI investigation, which she describes as being squeezed into some huge washing machine, a helpless victim devoured by a monster, or a suspect being tortured to confess her crimes, she does just that:
“I confess I rebelled against my father when he wished to restrict my education to a mere, miserable diploma. I had the audacity to study further and earn a degree in Accounting. I refused to marry my cousin, as social tradition would have had it.
“I confess that I educated myself at a time when the only printed document in our house was the ration card.
“I confess that I did not want to marry unless I loved my partner. So I loved a man and travelled with him to his Arab country [
“I confess it was my wish to become a mother but I never sought it earnestly, perhaps out of fear of a ‘gloomy’ destiny. I thus never considered a second marriage. I began writing for children until my nieces and nephews, the children of my friends, and the children of the world became my own.
“I confess that my books are my real babies. I only wish to live for their sake until they grow mature.
Rebel
“I confess that I tried to revolt against my ‘safe’ job as an accountant in the Electricity Company and work as a journalist.
“I confess that all worldly desires converged in my desire to read and write and watch TV to live other lives that may perhaps materialise the concept of eternal life which has been teasing me since childhood.”
Beheiri’s attempt to escape the worn out established societal norms which restrict the rise of women in the community showed clearly in her works. She presented a positive image of rebellion in her collections of short stories Nisf Imra’a (Half a Woman) , Al-Ashiqoun (The Lovers), Irtihalat al-Lu’lu’ (Journeys of the Pearls).
“No writer,” she claimed, “can draw a clear decisive line between personal experience and the creative work he or she produces, no matter what mask he or she tries to don.”
WATANI International
26 October 2008