The Orange was Dry and Shriveled: Kanafani’s The Land of Sad

Oranges between Foreignization and Domestication.

 In the first half of the 20th century, starting 1948, Palestine has witnessed radical
political, social; and therefore, literary changes. In order to articulate the existing historic
circumstances and to endorse change, most writers, especially Palestinians and Arabs, have
understood that profound and innovative literary modes were needed. They have seen the
necessity to lawfully articulate and narrate the cause of their people and their history, to
counterbalance the colonial threat. This ideology resulted in new literary influence; like the
intense presence of immigration literature, struggle literature, and to give more credibility to the
texts, autobiographical literature. Most authors have avoided the theorizing of broader historical
matters. However, they excelled in symbolizing and narrating their struggle, within a socio-
political context, and representing other refugees, families of martyrs, and every Palestinian who
has experiences loss. Ghassan Kanafani, born 9th of April, 1936 in Akka, Palestine, is a resilient
Palestinian icon. The writer and the political was deeply committed to the cause of Palestine; he
was a man of letters; a gifted artist; and one of the most prominent Arab novelists and modernist
playwrights of the second half of the twentieth century. In his early literary writings, Palestine is
depicted as a cause. However, later on, he came to perceive Palestine as a total human symbol.
Thus, his stories and novels do not only deal with the Palestinians and their problems; but also,
and through the figure of the Palestinian, the human dilemma of agony and deprivation.

Most of Kanafani’s works have been translated into different languages; this made
him an idol of resistance and sovereignty across the globe. Readers would dive into his stories
for a better understanding of the psychology of tortured Palestinian children, refugees, prisoners,
and citizens who have been deprived of their rights to celebrate their origins and culture. Hence,
his Palestinian “narration” has been a narration of communities and peoplehood in relation to the
land, a narration of formation and reformation in the Palestinian cultural imaginary; and hence, it
became an intellectual way to resist the occupation of Palestine. Therefore, translating his works
play a significant role in conveying his messages and in communicating Kanafani’s Palestinian
culture to target audiences of English speakers.
 With the emergence of Orientalism in the late 18th century as a scholarly practice, the
Orient has become an object of investigation by the west. The Orient signified to them whatever
is distant, mystical, exquisite, and strange. According to Edward Said, Orientalism has been a
gun to the head of the Orient. Said merges the notion of essentialism with Foucault’s rejection of
the objective reality since according to Said, there is nothing that may detach a scholar from his
involvement with a class, beliefs, social position, or his society. (Said, 18). Although that some
scholars are sincere and honest in portraying the East, Said argues that the major image and
reputation of Eastern nations, held widely by most Western scholars, is of barbaric, primitive,
and less rational races. This empowers the assumptions and beliefs, assumed by Western
Superiority, that orient is the other, the less, and the margin. This is the outcome of the personal
biases and false propaganda promoted by Orientalist scholars, consciously or subconsciously. In
his revolutionary “Orientalism,” E. Said defines the term as a science and a study based on the
deep observation of the East: the language, the beliefs, the traditions, and even the political and
economic situation. The Orientalist ideology is Euro-centric; and by nature, it proposes
romanticized images and representation of weaknesses of the East in Western political doctrine.
(Said, 204). This perception is usually an implicit justification of colonialism. As a doctrine,
Orientalism has been functionalized through political and economic theory, literature, history,
linguistics, and other platforms. Subsequently, the translations from the Orient have witnessed
drastic changes; since Orientalism is explicitly and mainly about translation, and translated
works from oriental languages play a momentous role in Orientalist studies. Translations started
to become Eurocentric as well: translators would write introductions on how barbaric the Orient
is; and influence their translations by their own biases and an erroneous sense of superiority.
However, there is one accidental positive side effect to Orientalism that it puts the Orient, and to
this paper’s interest: Palestine, under the spotlight.

The influence of Orientalism in the field of translation has led to the drastic and total
domestication of texts. Domestication in translation in order to convey fluency became a
standard that is predominantly expected of British-American translations into English. In order
for a translation to be considered fluent and adequate, the target text adheres to a severe
domesticated influence towards the target language culture which is usually the ones of America
and Europe. A fluent and domesticated text creates what Lawrence Venuti would, later, define as
the “illusion of transparency” as it is when the text is so fluent in the target language; the
translation becomes ‘transparent’ and the translator becomes “invisible,” with the fluency of the
text attempting to pretend that the situation is other than it actually is. (Venuti, 34). This method
has given access to translators with Orientalist mentality to manipulate and violate the texts: to
strip them of their cultural and political contexts, to forge ideas and shape the text according to
their ideas and biases, and to falsify truths, either intentionally or unintentionally. This sense of
supremacy is articulated in David Bellos’s book Is That A Fish In Your Ear? Bellos believes that
translated works are divided into two sections: up and down. He distinguishes translating “up” as
translating into a superior language and translating “down” as translating from a superior
language into one that is considered inferior. With its hegemonic status and political dominance,
the English language can be considered a superior language, if not the most superior; this, it is
easy for translators to domesticate other cultures into a cultural context that fits it. By doing so,
the translator is representing Anglophone cultures as superior to the source language of the
original text. (Bellos, 111). However, in his canonical book The Translator’s Invisibility,
Lawrence Venuti has condemned the act of domesticating the text to the extent that it becomes
no longer recognizable compared to the original: he describes excessive domestication as a
“violent act” that deprives literary translation of its aesthetical delightful quality: the sharing of
cultures. The beauty of translation does not only revolve about offering foreign literature to
worldwide audiences, but also the sharing of cultural differences. Through the excessive
domestication of texts, translated literature risks becoming homogenous. Meanwhile,
foreignizing texts reserves cultures and gives less access to translators to manipulate the text or
stain it by their personal biases. (Venuti, 147). This criticism of excessive domestication of texts
has influenced some translators to maintain the translation integrity by preserving the cultural
identity of the source text. Venuti’s words can be seen as an indirect way to encounter the
hegemony of Orientalism; as it helps decreasing its influence on translation. Such adherence to
the source text, even done stingily combined with the “accidental positive side effect of
Orientalism,” which has been mentioned above, gives some prominence to the Orient in general,
and Palestine in particular. This research aims at examining two different translations of the
same short story done by two different translators with two different cultural backgrounds; in
order to locate differences and to find the explanations behind them.
 Ghassan Kanafani’s The Land of Sad Oranges“ ‫ ”أرض البرتقال الحزين‬is a collection of
short stories, first published in 1962. The book contains a number of short stories that reflect the
social, historical, and political densities antagonizing the Palestinian family in Kanafani’s
narrative. “That is, such complexities in their turn affect and are the effect of the story’s setting,
space, time, characters, and their roles. It is a story, or rather a journey, that takes consciousness
as its ultimate goal.” (Eid). This paper will focus on one of the most powerful stories in the book
that has the same name: “The Land of Sad Oranges.” This story is considered the crown of the
book with its raw and vivid narration of the very moment in which a Palestinian child became a
refugee. Considering G. Kanafani’s background, one cannot find it hard to understand that the
child who narrates such a distressful experience is none but Kanafani himself. He wrote from his
own memory, and his own conscious and unconscious. He represents all Palestinians who had to
leave their lands, their houses, and their oranges. The process of leaving a place to inhabit the
other is paralleled with a shift in narration; the child’s method of narration reflects the movement
towards consciousness “‫ صرنا الجئين‬,‫ في العصر‬,‫“ ”و عندما وصلنا صيدا‬When we reached Saida, in the
afternoon, we became refugees.” (Kanafani, 85). And the relationship between orange trees and
the Palestinian family, as a representative of all other Palestinian families, becomes a more
intimate one. Orange trees are mentioned for the first time when the family heads towards Ras
Naqurs: "‫“ "و حقول البرتقال تتوالى على الطريق‬The groves of orange trees followed each other in
succession along the side of the road.” It becomes distinct, then, why oranges move with the
Palestinians wherever they go, why women ululate when they buy oranges, and why the father
“bursts into tears like an inconsolable child” when he gazes at the fruit. The tragedy becomes
clearer when the family leaves the land of oranges and the groves begin to disappear; the
child/narrator himself starts sobbing. It is not, then, just a piece of land nor a fruit, but rather a
symbol for everything the Palestinians have to leave behind.

The two translations of “The Land of Sad Oranges” are done by two different
translators. First, Dr. Nejmeh Khalil Habib, a lecturer at The University of Sydney, The
Department of Arabic Language and Culture. The other translation is by Hilary Kilpatrick, who
teaches Arabic literature at the Universities of Nijmegen and Bern. She has published on both
classical and modern Arabic prose literature. Considering the translators’ backgrounds and
specializations in this paper’s context is crucial: Nejmeh Khalil Habib is a Palestinian author
who holds an Australian nationality. She has been awarded the Jibran Khalil Jibran Award for
reserving the Arabic literary culture and has been honored by The United Australian Palestinian
Workers for her efforts to revive the Palestinian literary heritage. Her writings and translations
are dedicated to advocating the values of justice and freedom, such as the issue of the Palestinian
struggle, women and, and the crushed childhood in a world of wars and deprivation. This
vindicates why N. Khalil opts for a foreignizing method of translation in order to conserve the
source culture: the Palestinian culture that she strives to promote and reinforce. On the other
hand, Hilary Kilpatrick is a European translator: either from Britain or the Netherlands. She
received her DPhil from Oxford for a thesis on the Egyptian novel up to Naguib Mahfouz. She
has published a study of al-Isbahani’s Book of Songs (10th century) and many articles on
modern, classical and most recently Ottoman Arabic literature. She has edited a special number
of studies on Arabic Literature and Music, co-edited with Glenda Abramson Religious
Perspectives in Modern Muslim and Jewish Literatures, and co-edited and translated with Gerald
J. Toomer the letters of Niqūlāwus al-Ḥalabī (d. c.1661) to the Orientalists Edward Pococke and
Jacob Golius. Thus, one can grasp that Kilpatrick’s interest in the Orient is of an Orientalist
outlook. Therefore, the way she domesticates the translation of the novel makes sense and is well
justified.

Translating Kanafani’s work is of crucial importance whether by domesticating the

text or foreignizing it; whether to reserve the culture or examine and study it. Kanafani’s short
story narrates a very climactic point in the heart of every Palestinian: the feeling of shock and
loss driven by policies of displacement and dispossession. His narration of the traumatic tragedy
reflects awareness and transparency. Kanafani’s story narrates “what has been missing or
ignored throughout the quotidian of human reality; underlying the vital history that continues to
connect Palestinians everywhere to the land once called Palestine.” (Abdelrazek et al).
Kanafani’s writings suggest a symbolic relationship between literature and history; his short
story explores the need to recover and discover the past of the lost homeland. Thus, translating
his works is important to convey the scars that the Israeli occupation has made across the hearts
and faces of many Palestinians. In this sense, domesticating a text does not necessarily mean
siding with the occupation, however, it does not imply supporting the Palestinian struggle Per
se. It is mainly the Orientalist desire to explore and to study the region, including the Israeli
situation, with all its struggles, circumstances, stories; and hence, literature. Therefore, there are
many differences that one can straightforwardly locate while comparing Nejmeh Khalil’s
translation of “The Land of Sad Oranges” to Hillary Kilpatrick’s one.

Translating cities’ names is not usually a controversial matter that outbreaks arguments,
however, translating Palestinian’s cities is quite different. Palestinians have been trying to urge
people to use the original and real names of the cities before the occupation replaces them with
Jewish ones. The act of saying the cities’ names in Arabic does not only preserve the Palestinian
culture, but also condemns the Israeli occupation that steals lands to “gentrify” them and end up
naming cities according to its own language. For instance, Palestinians still strive to use Akka
instead of Akko, Asqalan instead of Asheloun, Beit Al-shams instead of Beit Shemesh, and Um
Al Rashrash instead of Eilat. However, the English language, most of the time, uses Judaized
names as a standard. Therefore, translating the city names in “The Land of Sad Oranges” has a
significance that goes beyond the linguistic input, it is of a political and cultural influence. For
instance, Nejmeh Khalil, the Palestinian-Australian translator, does not change the names of the
cities: she uses a foreignized method of writing the cities names, using English letters, the way
they are pronounced in Arabic. The very first line of the novella "‫ "عندما خرجنا من يافا الى عكا‬is
translated to “When we left Yaffa to Akka.” However, in Hillary Kilpatrick’s’ translation, the
names are domesticated and replaced with their English equivalences “when we set out from
Jaffa for Acre.” Another example is "‫ "و عندما بدأت رأس الناقورة تلوح‬which is translated to “When
Ra’ss-Ennkoura appeared” in Nejmeh Khalil’s translation who writes it the way it is pronounced
in Levantine Arabic accent. However, it gets translated to “When Ras Naqoura came into sight”
by Hillary Kilpatrick who domesticates the name of the city and writes it in English. This slight
difference in translating cities’ names imply and mirror the opinion of both translators: N. Khalil
is a Palestinian author resisting the normalization enforced by the occupation that altered the
names of her homeland’s cities. While H. Kilpatrick is a scholar who is interested in Palestine, as
a part of the Orient, and Ghassan Kanafani, as an Arabic and Middle Eastern author, without
necessarily supporting the Palestinian cause or sympathizing with Ghassan’s words.
 "‫ "و كانت تلتمع في عيني أبيك كل أشجارالبرتقال التي تركها لليهود‬is one of the most pungent and
stimulating lines in Kanafani’s short story; it reveals the significance of oranges, the bitterness of
loss, and contextualizes the story within its political frame. Kanafani, brilliantly, in one sentence
revealed to the reader how oranges represent the self-worth of Palestinians: their homeland, their
efforts and jobs, and their investment. How bitter and catastrophic would it to be deprived of
everything at once, how demoralizing would the moment of epiphany be? Kanafani as well
points fingers at Israelis, who stole the lands, the orange groves, and the meaning of family.
Translating this sentence may seem initially easy, however, it holds significant importance that
requires deep knowledge and immaculate awareness of the Palestinian socio-political and
cultural situation in order to be translated with integrity. In Nejmeh Khalil’s translation, the
sentence gets translated into “ in your father’s eyes were the reflection of all the orange trees he
had left behind for the Israelis.” However, Hillary Kilpatrick has translated it into “and all the
orange trees that your father had abandoned to the Jews shone in his eyes.” At first glance one
may think that, for the first time, N. Khalil opted for a domesticated method by translating “
‫ ”اليهود‬into “Israelis,” and that H. Kilpatrick has changed her habit of domestication into
foreignization by keeping “‫ ”اليهود‬and translating it into “Jews.” However, with a deep
examination of the Palestinian situation, one realizes that Nejmeh K. has kept her habit of
foreignizing the text and that Hillary K. has domesticated it, as always. After WWII, and the
atrocities Adolf Hitler has committed against the Jews, they had proceeded to Palestine to escape
the terrible ethnic cleansing. Even before the entity of “Israel” surfaces, Jews had come running
to Palestine for shelter as the oppressed people, who practice the belief of Judaism and need aid.
Hence, the name “Jews” emerged among Arab Palestinians to refer to the Jewish refugees.
However, the name remained to be used even after the creation of the state of Israel to refer to
Israelis and not Jews. Palestinians who still inhabit Palestine, themselves, urge the world and
other Palestinian refugees to stop calling Israelis by the name Jews; since the Palestinian struggle
is political and not religious in nature; and therefore, it is not Anti-Semitic. Considering the
political context of the word, Nejmeh Khalil who translated “‫ ”اليهود‬into “Israelis” has, indeed,
foreignized the text, once again, and sustained the intended meaning of Kanafani’s words. On the
other hand, H. Kilpatrick has actually domesticated the meaning by translating it into “Jews.”
This may, perhaps accidentally, indicates that the Palestinian struggle and its supporters are Anti-
Semitics and devotees of religious segregation.

The language used in both translations also can pronounce who the intended audience of
the two translations are. The sophisticated or simplified choices of diction determine the range of
people who will read the work. Sophisticated works with more posh ambiances and literary
refinement are, of course, considered more elegant, eloquent, and aesthetic. However, targeting a
younger or a larger audience would require the translator to use simpler words and less complex
convoluted sentences. Hillary Kilpatrick has opted for a translation where she mimics the
sophistication of Ghassan Kanafani’s words. Kanafani’s diction may not sound complicated to
an Arabic reader, however, his style is satisfactorily sophisticated and aesthetical. Thus,
Kilpatrick uses a similar style in her translation. This also shows that her target audience is
people who are interested in either literature or the Arab world. Kilpatrick provides the reader
with a text that matches the technique and the literary style of Gh. Kanafani. Despite
domesticating the text to the core and neglecting some socio-political and cultural aspects,
Kilpatrick’s translation is posher and more suitable for literary inclined people, scholars, or even
individuals who are interested in the Arab world and its conditions. On the other hand, Nejmeh
Khalil’s translation has translated Kanafani’s decorated words into ones that are simpler, easier,
and more effortless. She has maintained a literary style that is smooth and suave, however, she
has opted for less adorned word choices. Albeit her simplified diction, such minimalism does not
detract from the message she wants to communicate, to the contrary, it serves her purpose well.
Most Palestinian authors and scholars, especially those in exile, strive to promote and spread
their Palestinian heritage, tradition, history, and collective memory; for it is the only thing that
prevents their identity from being washed away. Palestinians dream of their right to “return” and
spreading the awareness of their homeland turns this dream into an inheritance for younger
generations: those who have never walked on Palestine’s land and perhaps can not speak Arabic.
Therefore, the simpler the language, the larger the audience. The larger the audience, the bigger
the inheritance. Most children with Palestinian roots get encouraged to read narratives and fiction
that revolves around Palestine to know more about their lost lands. For example, some of
Ghassan Kanafani’s short stories are targeted at children and put into a book under the name
Palestine's Children: Returning to Haifa and Other Stories. Therefore, Nejmeh Khalil’s
translation aims to reach as many people as possible, and the simplicity she has employed has
served her well. For example, "‫ و بين أدعية النسوة‬,‫ "و مضت تلك الليله قاسيه مرة بين وجوم الرجال‬which has
been translated by H. Kilpatrick to “that night passed, cruel and bitter, amidst the despondency of
the men and the prayers of the women.” However, it has been translated into “That night was
hard on you and me. The women were praying, men were bitter and silent” by Nejmeh Khalil.
One can notice Kilpatrick’s adherence to Kanafani’s style, unlike Nejmeh who opts for a simpler
language.

In essence, translation, in fact, does not only deal with languages and idioms.
Translation is characterized by personal and collective biases. Just like Edward Said has
mentioned that you can not remove someone, even the least prejudiced, from his/her affiliations.
People are affected by who they are, the beliefs they follow, the incidents that have shaped their
past and influenced their present, and their social, political, and cultural practices. Therefore,
translation is biased; however, one can learn more from how biased it is and detect how such
biases affect the methods used in translation. This paper itself has been influenced by personal
biases that can not neglect the demanding devotion to one’s personal beliefs and values. The
same way Ghassan Kanafani has been influenced by the Palestinian cause till his death; it makes
reading him in any other context away from the Palestinian cause insufficient. Just how Nejmeh
Khalil has been indulged in preserving her culture and trying to resist her own way. And just
how Hillary Kilpatrick’s interest in the Orient has been influenced by the fact that she is a
Western woman, who strives to study the Orient. And these attributes have made all the
difference. These differences have made H. Kilpatrick opt for a more domesticated “fluent”
translation, and have urged Nejmeh Khalil to preserve her culture by foreignizing the text to keep
its rectitude and substance.
Work Cited:

Abdelrazek, A., et al. “Sixty years after.” Palestine Journal of Politics, Economics and Culture,
20 April, 2015 from http://www.pij.org/details.php?id=1189

Bellos, David. Is That a Fish in Your Ear? the Amazing Adventure of Translation. London:
Penguin Books, 2012.

Eid, Haidar. “The Power of Ghassan Kanafani's The Land of Sad Oranges.” Teach Palestine,
teachpalestine.org/articles/ghassan-kanafani

Kanafani, Ghassan. “Ard Al Burtuqal Al Hazin.” Ard Al Burtuqal Al Hazin: Collection of Short
Stories. Cyprus: Manshourat Al Rammal, 2013. Print.

Kanafānī, Ghassān. "The Land of Sad Oranges." Men in the Sun & Other Palestinian Stories.
Trans. Hilary Kilpatrick. Lynne Rienner, 1999. 75-80. Print.

Kanafani Ghassan, “The Land of Sad Oranges.” Trans. Nejmeh Khalil Habib.
www.academia.edu/42073451/The_Land_of_Sad_Oranges

Said, Edward W. Orientalism. London: Penguin, 2003. Print.

Venuti, Lawrence. The Translator's Invisibility: A History of Translation. London: Routledge,

1995.