Picture this: you're huddled in the dark, Israeli bombs raining down, your painstakingly built community library reduced to rubble. Yet somehow, amid the terror, words flow—clear, direct, achingly beautiful. That's the miracle of Forest of Noise, Mosab Abu Toha's latest collection of poems from the heart of Gaza's siege.
Barely thirty, Abu Toha was already an acclaimed Palestinian poet and Pulitzer Prize winner when the current assault began. His family fled—not for the first time—leaving destruction behind. But he didn't stop writing. These poems emerged from that chaos, forming one of the most stunning works born from wartime desperation.
What do you write when survival is the only agenda? Abu Toha gives us practical directives for air raids, lyrics his wife sings to distract their children, and tender recollections of his grandfather's oranges—simple joys pulverized by occupation. The collection shifts between glimpses of relative peace and the absurd reality of barely livable conditions, introducing his extended family, some lost forever.
Praised as "a powerful, capacious, and profound" by Ocean Vuong, this New York Times Notable Book defies imagination even as Gaza's suffering streams live worldwide. It's whimsical yet searing, urgent and arrestingly human.
Reading Forest of Noise isn't just encountering poetry; it's witnessing art wrested from atrocity. Feel the weight of lines like "You are alive / for a moment / when living people / run after you." They make the abstract intimate—the fear of a father, the whimsy of a child, the persistence of memory. In a world numbed by headlines, these poems restore vividness, answering what it's like to live, love, and create under siege.
Hardcover edition out October 15, 2024—this book fits perfectly on your shelf for late-night reads or sharing with friends hungry for authentic voices. Whether you're drawn to Palestinian literature, wartime poetry, or stories of human endurance, Abu Toha's words linger, inviting reflection on life's fragile beauty. Dive in, and let Gaza's forest of noise echo in your own quiet moments.
