Holy ghost

Literary scholar Archbishop Georges Khodr hopes to change the Lebanese youth through example and published lectures.

Translated from its original Arabic

Where have all the books gone?

Well there’s no denying that my generation was a stronger one, linguistically speaking, and dynamically. People wrote with causes and dedication. But still, this new generation has inherited some of our passion and aptitude for literature.

Are we any good?

Literary quality is still around but everyone is so distracted. People seem to be far too involved in everything else – from politics to economics –  and this makes the literary field lag far behind. You can argue that problems feed creativity but that’s only true to a certain extent. And while I no longer immerse myself in young literature, every now and then something does catch my eye. It’s rarely in Arabic though.

Maybe your Arabic is dying?

I don’t agree with that at all. English is taking over the world, perhaps, to the extent that it surpasses local languages; but despite all that, I feel a true writer will only be able to express himself in his mother tongue. We have our colloquialisms and that’s producing some poetry unique to the Arabic that we’ve developed. This tells me that the desire is still there and it won’t die.

But poetry will turn colloquial…

Colloquial Arabic has shone through with some writers, like Michael Taha, and reached poetic and emotional heights no less lofty than those of actual proper Arabic. Many countries publish in their colloquial language; colloquial sometimes surprises you. Some poets can be illiterate and yet their expressions are powerful and unique to them. It’s a bit of a miracle actually, but then the depth of human emotion always is.

So you’re betting on a bright future?

A quick answer here is difficult. There are far too many variables in this country and in international politics. This is also made difficult by some growing decadence. The Lebanese man has the talent for profit but not for cooperation or selflessness. He can’t break free from himself and without selflessness you can’t really have a tightly-knit society. You exist, the others exist and together you can make something happen. Individuality is far too prevalent here.

At least we stuck around…

Yes, maybe I’m ahead of myself. The problems we face – and they are great – tell me that the Lebanese man loves to stay in Lebanon. Note, I’m not saying he loves Lebanon itself, because love requires sacrifice, but he likes to stay in his country. This might be where he finds himself, and what a better place to find yourself? It’s a beautiful country with a beautiful nature. And perhaps the nature of today’s Lebanese man isn’t all that harsh either. He’s hospitable, he enjoys himself.

That’s gentler, thank you.

A few years ago I was harsher on my people. I lived in Europe for years, and felt people were a bit off. But I now realize that the will of the Lebanese, the will to live, is powerful. It will make the country livable, and give it the potential to break free of its chains.

I agree. A lot of us are here to stay.

And another thing, Lebanon is not an upper echelon country, but still its people inherited the love for freedom and the love to question authority. We might not be heading for a life of luxury but we’ll never be a recessed country. I respect the will of the people and their desire to survive.

So you are optimistic after all?

Hopeful, I prefer to use hopeful. We’re staying here even if it needs a lot of effort.

We all are. So what is your favorite place in Lebanon?

I love the villages. Sadly, I don’t know the south well enough, but as far as the rest goes I love Douma, Deir el Qamar, Dhour el Shweir, and Hasroun. Deir el Qamar is striking in its architecture and history. But Beirut is unattractive, although I spent many years there. It doesn’t attract me architecturally or from an urban planning point of view. You feel it’s cluttered and haphazardly built. The corniche is beautiful though.