Wednesday, July 10, 2013

WORDS OF A REVOLUTION by eden unger bowditch


As I sit here from this side of the ocean, word from Cairo sounds as horrid to me as to everyone else here. But I know what it was like last time when the news was scary.

 We played games and read stories together. Families got together for garden parties. Yes, there were moments when the tanks rolled in that one could almost hear a violin being played among the gunshots. Were we all Nero while Rome was burning? Or were we simply trying to maintain grace under fire, literally?

Our neighborhood is an international community and a grand mix of many different people. We all bonded together during the worst of it and have worked together to come to terms with a very different Egypt. Now, my family and I are in the US. We plan to be here for the year, at least. But, ringing in our ears, we hear the sounds of a world uncertain and a future full of fear.

When we, as authors, write, we want to bring our readers on a journey. We want them to join us in our strange new worlds. Escaping into a book can be one of the most profound experiences in someone’s life. Enduring uncertainty and conflict may sometimes depend on escaping from it. Having books to share and, for each of us, having books to savor privately, was how my family managed to wake up each day, ready for whatever we had to face.

I want to take this moment to thank all of you, the brilliant minds who author the worlds we are privileged to experience whenever we step into the pages of your books.


  1. Eden -- I've been thinking of you and also another blogger I know who lives in Egypt. I am glad that you and your family are in the U.S. right now, but I am sure that your hearts are full, thinking of Cairo, your neighbors, and the country undergoing so much turmoil.

  2. Every time I think of Egypt, I think of you and your family, Eden. I am glad you are safe, but aching for those in danger half a world away.

  3. Great post, Eden. I've always told my students that one of the most beautiful things about literature is it allows readers the chance to see the world through another's perspective. But your post makes me think I may be wrong. Perhaps I should tell them literature's most profound aspect is its ability to ready the human form into the condition most readily necessary for survival. That is, it helps build a grab-bag of experiences (albeit second-hand, and fictional) to help ready ourselves for all kinds of tests of the human experience. Not sure I'm explaining this well, but it's coming through clearly in my head how literature is kind of like training for all kinds of experiences.


Thanks for adding to the mayhem!