Introduction:
Beginning to write about a topic concerned with narratives remains one of the most difficult challenges facing researchers. Likewise, searching for a title that appropriately reflects the study of a specific literary phenomenon and situating it within its proper framework is neither an easy nor a simple task, as some may assume. Rather, it is a skill that must be acquired through practice. A passion for reading or writing alone is not sufficient; it must be accompanied by patience, concentration, and the possession of appropriate research tools.
It is noticeable that the Libyan literary scene has witnessed a striking and increasing growth in the number of publications across various literary genres. This has led to a clear overlap in concepts and has also contributed to the revival of certain literary phenomena and the emergence of others, particularly with the expansion of social media platforms. In the past, journalism played the most significant role in spreading some of these literary genres, most notably the short story. At present, however, social media has assumed a considerable role in presenting both the short story and the novel in a broader and more inclusive manner, which has contributed to the emergence of what is known as the electronic novel.
The rise of the novel has noticeably overshadowed the presence of the short story, with attention increasingly directed toward the novel, while the short story—considered the foundation from which narrative forms originated—has been marginalized. Khalifa Al-Tellesi considers the short story to be the literature of the modern age, arguing that the modern short-story writer is more perceptive, more aware, and more capable of depicting the reality of human conflict. The short story, with its characteristic conciseness, also corresponds to the nature of the contemporary era, as modern individuals tend to favor brevity and succinctness in all aspects of life.
This observation represents an important indication and can be viewed as a prediction of a possible decline in readers’ interest in the novel in the coming years. It is natural that readers may increasingly incline toward the short story, particularly because of its rapid access to the essence of events and its distance from the extensive elaboration that is considered one of the main features of the novel.
The Literary Genre of Hadret Qahawi:
Identifying the literary genre of a text is one of the most important tasks of literary criticism. Accordingly, before engaging in the analysis of this text, it is necessary to determine to which literary or journalistic genre Hadret Qahawi belongs. This is particularly important given that the publisher did not specify, in the publication details on the first page of Hadret Qahawi, the narrative category under which this work is classified, merely indicating that it is a form of “narrative.”
In fact, I do not blame the publisher, nor do I blame those who struggle—based on limited readings of this text—to determine its literary genre. The language of the text is journalistic, and its author is a journalist who masters this language skillfully. Through this text, he succeeds in employing journalistic language to convey part of the reality of the suffering of the Libyan citizen, who has become captive to cafés and their conversations. Thus, the title itself becomes a clear symbolic expression of the citizen’s need to release the burdens carried in his heart. The term hadraza is used in the Libyan dialect to refer to various forms of conversation. Among Libyans, hadraza may denote casual talk meant to “relieve the mind,” as they say, a way of psychological relief through which they momentarily forget some of their worries.
The important question, however, is why some scholars interested in Libyan literature and narrative have considered Hadret Qahawi to be a novel. The text is extremely realistic; indeed, it is almost a literal transcription of reality in all its details. Perhaps, since journalism historically contributed to the emergence of the realistic novel in literature, some have therefore classified Hadret Qahawi as a novel. This perspective is respectable, especially given the dominance of realism in the text. Nevertheless, from my point of view, this narrative cannot be regarded as a novel for several reasons.
Among these reasons is the absence of a clear sequence of events and the lack of developed characters. Moreover, the events within Hadret Qahawi lack diversity and are characterized by a high degree of monotony. In addition, in the novel, the narrator may be internal, external, or multiple, whereas in Hadret Qahawi there is only a single narrator who participates in the events from beginning to end. Furthermore, the language of the novel often tends toward extensive and elaborate description, which is not the case in Hadret Qahawi. Its language is simple and direct, and its descriptive techniques are limited.
Another Question: If Hadret Qahawi is not a novel, can it be considered a short story? And if it is a story, is it a literary short story or a journalistic one?
The short story, in general, is considered one of the products of journalism. Nevertheless, there is what is known as the literary short story, which is characterized by condensation and includes essential components such as events, characters, plot, setting, narration, description, and dialogue. All these elements are marked by density and conciseness, in addition to imaginative projections that support and strengthen the plot structure.
In contrast, the journalistic story is highly realistic, with imagination playing no evident role, since journalistic writing is completely detached from the subjectivity that characterizes literature. Therefore, the writer does not rely on personal subjectivity when composing it. Journalistic stories take several forms, including news stories, articles, and investigative reports, all of which are published in daily, weekly, or monthly newspapers.
Hadret Qahawi, however, represents a unique structure: a complete journalistic story compiled within the covers of a single book. Although this may not be a familiar practice, the legitimate question that arises is whether everything published in newspapers should necessarily be labeled a journalistic story. It is often said that “journalism is the daughter of literature, and the short story is the daughter of journalism.” What defines a story as journalistic is the style of writing and the expressive vocabulary employed by its author, not merely the platform on which it is published.
Hadret Qahawi was first published on Jamal Al-Zaidi’s Facebook page and later republished by Al-Siraj Publishing House. This led to its classification as either a short literary story or a novel; however, in reality, it is neither. Journalistic language, as is well known, possesses specific vocabulary and stylistic features from which a journalist can hardly detach himself when attempting to write narrative forms such as short stories or novels.
Journalists have the ability to keep pace with events, describe them, and ignite public opinion when they wish, for they are considered the fourth estate. Accordingly, Al-Zaidi employs journalistic expressions that he has long been accustomed to through his extensive professional experience in journalism. This is evident from the title itself, which is concise and attractive, informing the reader of the essence of the text before delving into its depths. Moreover, Al-Zaidi relies heavily on posing questions within the text, a distinctly journalistic expressive technique, as in his statement: “What confuses me is that since my writing and opinions do not please him, why does he insist that we remain friends in this space?”
Al-Zaidi also employs the very question raised about the literary genre of this work through a critical journalistic technique within the text. He presents it as a natural question that may occur to the reader and projects it onto an action within the narrative events, saying: “I took my seat, lit a cigarette, and began to devour the lines of the book. I literally fell into the trap of the small book whose classification I do not know… Is it a novel assuming the face of poetic prose… or merely meaningless delirium through which its author attempts to suggest his genius?”
By posing this question, Al-Zaidi creates an internal conflict between his identity as a journalist—who is expected to distance himself from subjectivity—and his desire to reveal the literary spirit that has developed within him as a result of his extensive and diverse reading throughout his long personal and professional journey.
Salem Al-Hindawi’s Introduction:
The introduction, usually written as a preamble to acknowledge the value and significance of a text, is sometimes also used as a form of compliment among writers. However, the introduction that Salem Al-Hindawi wrote for Hadrza Qahawi under the title “In the Alienation of the Inner Self” was by no means a mere compliment.
At first glance, the title may seem to refer to the alienation experienced by Jamal Al-Zaidi. In reality, everyone who sat in Al-Zaidi’s café was experiencing a sense of estrangement, and considering that Al-Zaidi was one of them, he experienced the same “estrangement,” not alienation or loss of self. Estrangement has become an attribute inherent to all creators, which creates a sense of superiority that distances the creator from everyday reality.
As is well known, there is a difference between estrangement and alienation. Al-Hindawi intended estrangement in its true sense, not alienation. He perhaps did this on the premise that within every person lies a distant homeland in which they often seek refuge.
This is confirmed by Al-Hindawi’s definition of what he called “Jamal Al-Zaidi’s Café,” where he says: "It is the café of all the people he has known in life."
It is noteworthy that Jamal Al-Zaidi is a well-known figure in Libya’s cultural and social circles. Unfortunately, however, he remains largely unrecognized in the academic sphere, which has not approached him to study his journalistic and literary experience.
Personally, I do not know Jamal Al-Zaidi, and my connection with him is solely through what he writes on his private page in the series “Afikwat”, which, for me at least, has become like a morning newspaper to start my day. Through these writings, the reader gets to know Jamal Al-Zaidi, a person burdened with the concerns of his daily life, his country, and his profession—journalism—which he joined in 1998.
This made writing about Hadrza Qahawi a challenging task that took longer than expected. It was necessary to provide something worthy of the gravity of sorrow, the pain of reality, and the language of anguish with which Al-Zaidi wrote this text.
Al-Hindawi’s introduction encapsulates the anguish that motivated Al-Zaidi to write. The reader of the text may not notice any fictionalization created by the author; Al-Zaidi relies on the philosophy of faithfully conveying reality with all its pains, which makes the text a journalistic story.
Al-Hindawi emphasizes this by describing the characters chosen by the author to sit with him in the café and share the hadrza: "Jamal Al-Zaidi’scompanions resembled each other in gloom, and resembled him in pain and delirium."
Al-Hindawi used the word “delirium” perhaps as a protective measure to shield Al-Zaidi from those opposed to exposing pain, fully aware of the consequences. The ruling systems in Libya, before and after February, in Bou Salim, exploited the helplessness of the needy and underprivileged.
Al-Hindawi considered Jamal Al-Zaidi fortunate for leaving this simple neighborhood in Tripoli to express their struggles and right to a dignified life. He states: "Jamal Al-Zaidi alone was fortunate in his extraordinary departure from Bou Salim barefoot with the barefoot, searching for shoes to enter the city."
Here, Al-Hindawi uses the word “shoes” to signify Al-Zaidi’s quest for a philosophical, universal means—so to speak—that protects him from danger as he follows the path of intellectual freedom to express the suffering of the youth in Bou Salim and other simple neighborhoods.
Salem Al-Hindawi also used “shoes” as the title of a short story in his collection “Remote Misguidances”, published in Beirut by the Arab Institute for Studies and Publishing in 1999. In this context, the shoes symbolized his own estrangement across different streets.
Al-Hindawi’s use of the shoes in this introduction can also be seen as an expression of the estrangement experienced by Al-Zaidi and the ordinary people whose voices he represents on the streets of their country, Libya.
Thus, Al-Hindawi links the introduction’s title to Al-Zaidi’s intention in this text with a high literary precision.
Placement of the Journalistic Story within the Circle of Repetition:
Intentionally or unintentionally, the journalistic story Hadrza Qahawi falls within the circle of repetition, which is one of the most significant findings of my study on magical realism in Libyan literature. The study traced magical realism in the novel The Phoenix Trilogy by Muhammad Al-Maghboub, attempting to answer the question at the heart of the research problem: why does the fantastical text fall within the circle of repetition?
A reader might wonder, what is the connection between Hadrza Qahawi and fantastical or magical realism? Fundamentally, repetition is a technique that can be employed in all narrative texts, whether they are novels or short stories. Many authors rely on verbal repetition, in particular, to emphasize the monotony of life or the alienation and estrangement experienced by the creator. This is precisely what Al-Zaidi did; he used repetition moderately, keeping it within reasonable limits.
What he did was repeat certain words that expressed his desire for life, his vision of love’s sparkle, and his hope for peace to prevail throughout Libya. Among the words noticeably repeated in the text are: life, love, cigarette, Aurora Café, fear, death, fire, sorrow. Additionally, Al-Zaidi’s modified café, the coffee cup, and specifically Aurora Café created a direct point of contact between the text and reality. Al-Zaidi likely intended for his hadrza to touch the reader’s sensibilities and lead them to confront the harsh reality that they are compelled to coexist with.
Magical touches are present in the hadrza, but not in the conventional form. The magical aspect asserts itself in the reader’s mind, engaging their sensibilities through the stark realism of the text and the truths that many try to ignore. The story demonstrates how a happy, carefree life has become a fantastical existence for the struggling Libyan citizen. This is evident in the patterns of fantastical narrative that the reader encounters within the text. The types of fantastical narrative include: 1. Retrospective narrative 2. Prospective narrative 3. Simultaneous narrative 4.Embedded narrative.
Through these patterns, the narrative structure of the fantastical text is realized. Perhaps the most frequently encountered by the reader in HadrzaQahawi is the retrospective narrative, also referred to as “recollective” narration. This type of narrative has its origins in ancient epics and classical narrative forms.
An example of this type of narrative can be found on page 115, where the narrator states: "Now, as I sit alone at my table in the new café I recently discovered, trying to recall the details of last night’s dream…"
This is reflected on page 117, where the narrator states: "While the rain and wind outside formed an appropriate backdrop, I lit another cigarette and ordered a new coffee, trying to recall the haze of last night’s dream… We were facing each other across a small table… For the first time, my father, Jumaa Al-Zaidi, appeared to me in my dream, smiling brightly…"
This type of narrative, known as the “retrospective narrative,” significantly contributes to the expansion of the circle of repetition within the narrative text, as it is employed with the purpose of reminding or reiterating certain elements.
This may have created a space for intertextualitywith several Qur’anic chapters within HadrzaQahawi, including intertextual references to Surah Yusuf and Surah Al-Qasas. For instance, the narrator states in the text:
"Indeed, whoever restores a part of my soul’s peace this evening is capable of restoring Libya from the depths of the well…"
His statement echoes the verse from Surah Al-Qasas: (Indeed, He who has imposed upon you the Qur’an will [surely] bring you back to a return [85]) [Al-Qasas: 85] and the verse from Surah Yusuf: (A speaker among them said, “Do not kill Yusuf, but cast him into the bottom of the well; some caravan will pick him up if you would do [right])” [Yusuf: 10].
This represents a complex Qur’anic intertextuality, and the retrospective narrative serves as a mnemonic device, similar to what many Qur’anic verses achieve. Another example of Qur’anic intertextuality is found in Surah Al-Anbiya:
(The Day We will fold the heaven like the folding of a written sheet for the records. As We began the first creation, We will repeat it. [104]) [Al-Anbiya: 104].
Within the text, on page 58, the narrator writes: "To the extent that we wish, out of ignorance and recklessness, that the nights themselves could be folded like a written record…"
Additionally, there is intertextuality with the authentic Hadith: "O people, an Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab, nor a non-Arab over an Arab, nor a red over a black, nor a black over a red except by piety."
In the text, on page 143, the narrator states: "No Westerner has superiority over an Easterner, nor an Easterner over a Fazzani, nor a Fazzani over a Westerner except through commitment and alignment with the values of the city and patriotism…"
All of the aforementioned instances of intertextuality function as reminders and moral cues, which contributed to establishing a pattern of marvelous narrative, specifically the “retrospective narrative,” thereby rendering the text fantastical.
Conclusion:
Al-Zaidi’s Hadrza Qahawi is filled with numbers that symbolically function as signs requiring analysis. I hope that future researchers pay attention to this aspect. Despite my attempt in this article to delve deeply into the text, it remains, in my view, a concise treatment; I even considered transforming it into a full research paper. In any case, Al-Zaidi effectively utilizes the journalistic language he masters to draw attention to a neglected genre in Libya, namely the “journalistic story.” Indeed, the Libyan reader needs this type of writing that reflects their lived reality.
A potential challenge for critical readers engaging with this text lies in Al-Zaidi’s clear intention to craft a narrative based on short story elements, as evidenced both in my reading and in a post he shared on his personal Facebook page on December 29, 2025. In truth, Al-Zaidi’s journalistic stories are not devoid of literary features, which becomes apparent through the marvelous narrative patterns identified in this study.
Ultimately, the text remains at the reader’s disposal to examine, interpret, and deconstruct as they see fit. Determining its literary genre, however, remains a critical task that cannot be overlooked under any circumstances.
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