Review by Ian Keogh
As conflict once again erupts in Israel/Palestine, there’s the danger that it will spread to Lebanon, for well over a decade from 1975 almost the textbook example of religious fanatics not caring at all for innocents caught in their uprisings. Zeina Abirached begins her memoir of the times with several pages of wordless illustrations showing the empty streets of Lebanon’s capital Beirut, people fearing for their lives in achieving basic needs. Even during brief cease fires getting anywhere is an obstacle course of roads blocked by containers dividing disputed territory. Imagine having to negotiate the route on the sample art observed by snipers just to meet family members.
The memoir explains how everyday life was for residents of Beirut in 1975. The short explanation is grim beyond imagining. Due to constant shelling and the threat of snipers, moving around in any room with a window risks life, so for their own safety Zeina’s family reduce their living space to the apartment foyer. As other people visit or are met, their stories are told, tragedy in every life, and by the book’s end we’ve been introduced to most residents of an apartment block. They resonate, particularly the restaurant owner whose premises was destroyed. He rescued the best bottles from his cellar and every night shares one with his neighbours. When the building is eventually hit by a shell, it’s all the more concerning for having come to know everyone.
It’s far from a black and white world, but Abirached’s heavy use of black ink renders it as such, reflecting the childhood memories of no understanding. Symbolic illustrations, pictograms and diagrams are often used, providing clarity as to how matters are at any given time, while panels are frequently repeated with minimal changes. As there’s nothing wrong with Abirached’s expressive illustrations, it’s slightly disappointing to find basically the same picture used sixteen times over a four page conversation, and then reprised several pages later. It’s a technique repeated throughout, and diminishes what Abirached is trying to achieve. A few actual black and white photographs are effectively placed near the end.
A Game of Swallows succeeds in conveying the fear and desperation of lives none of us would willingly experience, yet keeps the right side of the misery memoir line via the matter of fact explanations of daily routine. The memories are of small moments building a bigger picture, such as residents being able to identify the direction shells flying over their building are heading. It’s evocative and memorable reportage, and a reminder of what we take for granted, but dragged down by the repeated art.
The 2022 edition adds an afterword considering the saying providing the title and what progress has been made in Beirut since there’s been a fragile peace.
