May Ziadeh (1886-1941) was a Lebanese-Palestinian poet, essayist, critic, translator, and pioneering feminist who was a key figure in the Nahda or Arab Renaissance of the early 20th century.
Every weekday, listeners explore the trials, tragedies, and triumphs of groundbreaking women throughout history who have dramatically shaped the world around us. In each 5 minute episode, we’ll dive into the story behind one woman listeners may or may not know -- but definitely should. These diverse women from across space and time are grouped into easily accessible and engaging monthly themes like Leading Ladies, Activists, STEMinists, Local Legends, and many more. Encyclopedia Womannica is hosted by WMN co-founder and award-winning journalist Jenny Kaplan. The bite-sized episodes pack painstakingly researched content into fun, entertaining, and addictive daily adventures.
Encyclopedia Womannica was created by Liz Kaplan and Jenny Kaplan, executive produced by Jenny Kaplan, and produced by Liz Smith, Cinthia Pimentel, Grace Lynch, Maddy Foley, and Brittany Martinez. Special thanks to Shira Atkins, Edie Allard, and Carmen Borca-Carrillo.
We are offering free ad space on Wonder Media Network shows to organizations working towards social justice. For more information, please email Jenny at jenny@wondermedianetwork.com.
Follow Wonder Media Network:
Hello! From Wonder Media Network, I’m Jenny Kaplan. And this is Encyclopedia Womannica.
Today we’re talking about the tragic story of a writer who used her pen to fight for feminist ideals in a society that didn’t understand her. Only relatively recently have people begun to appreciate her revolutionary impact on Arabic poetry. Let’s talk about May Ziadeh.
May Ziadeh was born in 1886 in Palestine. She was an only child. Her mother was a Palestinian Christian, and her father was a Lebanese Maronite. May went to elementary school in Nazareth. At the age of 14 she moved to Lebanon to complete high school.
In Lebanon, May studied French literature and Romanticism. She wrote in one school diary, “I have been alone in the woods for two hours. Alone with Byron, poet of violence and sweetness.”
The style of poets like Byron and Shelley greatly influenced May’s later work.
In 1907, May’s family moved to Egypt. There, May’s father took over the local weekly newspaper. While May studied at Egyptian University, this newspaper became her first professional outlet for writing.
May soon broke onto the literary scene, but it was no easy task. The Arabic writing community was dominated by men -- and, as an immigrant Christian woman, May was perceived as an outsider on multiple levels. Still, she was highly skilled, particularly when it came to language. She was fluent in Arabic and French, and had working knowledge of English, Italian, German, Spanish, Latin, and Modern Greek.
When many of us think of feminists from the early 20th century, we imagine suffrage marches and picket lines. May was a different kind of feminist; her picket line was the page. She sought to bring new ideas to the women’s rights debate, to dismantle ignorance and archaic tradition. She was constantly questioning societal norms.
In one passage, May wrote, “We chant beautiful words in vain, words of freedom and liberty. If you, men of the East, keep the core of slavery in your homes, represented by your wives and daughters, will the children of slaves be free?”
May was the first person to use the term “women’s cause” in Arabic literature. She called on women to aspire toward freedom and open themselves up to some Western ideas, while keeping sight of their own femininity and Arabic identity. She stressed the importance of education and voting rights.
May published her first poetry collection, Fleurs de Rêve, in French, though she would later write mostly in Arabic. She was a key figure in the Arab Renaissance of the 20th century, a movement that affected literature, politics, religion, and philosophy. May translated novels from English, German and French. She also wrote multiple biographies of pioneering women in literature and poetry.
In 1912, May formed a literary salon out of her home, frequented by other key figures in the Arab Renaissance. Poets, journalists, critics, and philosophers all gathered at May’s house for discussion.
May’s writing was driven by emotion, like the Romantic poets who inspired her. She wrote of herself, “I am a woman who has spent her life between her pens, stationary, books, and research. All my thoughts have been centered around ideals. This idealistic life has made me oblivious to how malicious people can be.”
As a perpetual outsider, May faced a barrage of bad-faith critiques about her personal life and mental state. Many refused to acknowledge or analyze her work on the intellectual level it deserved.
Though May never got married, she had an emotionally deep long-distance relationship with the Lebanese-American poet Khalil Gibran. They never met in person, but they corresponded for 19 years, leading some historians to speculate that they may have been in love. Khalil passed away in 1931, plunging May into a deep depression.
After May’s parents died as well, May stopped hosting her salon. This was due to both her emotional state and the immense societal pressure against single women hosting men in their homes.
May decided to return to Lebanon. Her surviving family claimed she was insane and had her forcefully taken to a psychiatric hospital.
This was likely to take control of her estate, and to silence her for her feminist ideals.
May was eventually allowed out of the asylum, thanks in part to a campaign by the Lebanese-American author Amin al-Rihani. Still, the whole experience was deeply humiliating and demeaning. May returned to Cairo, where she died in October of 1941. She was 55 years old.
In spite of the horrible treatment May Ziadeh experienced toward the end of her life, literary historians are now taking another look at her work, which had previously been tarnished by negative critics. Her writing cemented her place among the great writers and thinkers of the Arab Renaissance.
All month, we’re talking about storytellers.
For more on why we’re doing what we’re doing, check out our newsletter Womannica Weekly.
Follow us on facebook and instagram @encyclopediawomannica.
Special thanks to Liz Kaplan, my favorite sister and co-creator.
Talk to you tomorrow!