Mai Ghoussoub

1952 - 2007

naturally i took an interest in the name. it was the summer my grandfather died, one week before he was shot, i remember it like yesterday. the usual tepid Beirut summer, little cultural tenacity gripping AUB as people were stowed in rooms full of fans dispersing morsels of wind. my english teacher had mentioned Mai was coming to read from her book, 'Leaving Beirut'. i was so excited, a woman writer from my village, an artist, a published woman... i sat in that small room next to van dyke dorms on the wooden chairs amidst faces that were familiar in their familiarity, now. Mai was a tall, svlete woman, unpretentious, who seemed to command attention with little conscious effort. she exuded passion in her bones, in her gesticulations, in her manner of breathing words. she read an excerpt from her book. i waited so impatiently to jump to ask a question. i cannot remember what the question was but i just wanted her to hear me, this strong woman with her mane of hair and angular features who had decided to be heard. in so many different, vibrant ways. what was it that made her tick? i wanted to know. what was it that made her so driven to change, to make a difference?
this infatiguable woman who blended mathematics, literature, theater, painting and sculpture in her slender feminine form. now i say i wish i had known her. my family have met her and i question them about her because i am fascinated by her. she has accomplished so much during her lifetime. i feel like i know her because i know people that know her. it is a little inane to write about someone you wish you had met and write about them as though you had met them. but i felt like expressing my admiration, my respect, my fascination for this woman who has given us, and our culture, so much of herself. also to her family, whom i know must be struggling in the throes of mindless grief at this sudden bitter end.

click here to read entries from fellow writers/artists about Mai Ghoussoub, in al safir newspaper