Literature.

My current project:
ذاكرة الجسد (Memory in the Flesh), Ahlam Mosteghanemi (Arabic/English)

Okay, so the Arabic here is fantastically styled and metaphoric and far more difficult to read than Elias Khouri(English spelling?)'s more straightforward storytelling in Gate of the Sun (باب الشمس)(which, don't worry, I haven't put down; I kindle my interest by keeping a diverse literary portfolio), but I'm having a wonderful time trying. And, يا سلام, the translation! It's fabulously eloquent and I can't imagine translating anything with such literary prowess.

I mean, consider just the dedication. The power! It kills me!

الى مالك حدد، ابن قسنطينة الذي أقسم بعد استقلال الجزاءر ألا يكتب بلغة ليست لغته . . . فاغتالته الصفحة البيضاء . . . و مات متأثرا بسلطان صمته ليصبح شهيد اللغة العربية، و أول كاتب قرر أن يموت صمتا و قهرا و عشقا لها. و الى أبي . . . عساه بجد هناك من يتقن العربية، فيقرأ له أخيرا هذا الكتاب . . . كتابه.  

To the memory of Malek Haddad, Son of Casantina, who swore after the independence of Algeria not to write in a language that was not his. The blank page assassinated him. He died by the might of his silence to become a martyr of the Arabic language and the first writer ever to die silent, grieving, and passionate on its behalf.
And to the memory of my father, who may find someone there who knows Arabic to read him this book, his book.
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يا سلام! الجمال!ل
Almost nothing in this world makes me happier than good literature.