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- KurzbeschreibungFor more than a decade, Katherine Zoepf has lived in or traveled throughout the Arab world, reporting on the lives of women, whose role in the region has never been more in flux. Only a generation ago, female adolescence as we know it in the West did not exist in the Middle East. There were only children and married women. Today, young Arab women outnumber men in universities, and a few are beginning to face down religious and social tradition in order to live independently, to delay marriage, and to pursue professional goals. Hundreds of thousands of devout girls and women are attending Qur'anic schools-and using the training to argue for greater rights and freedoms from an Islamic perspective. And, in 2011, young women helped to lead antigovernment protests in the Arab Spring. But their voices have not been heard. Their stories have not been told.<br>In Syria, before its civil war, she documents a complex society in the midst of soul searching about its place in the world and about the role of women. In Lebanon, she documents a country that on the surface is freer than other Arab nations but whose women must balance extreme standards of self-presentation with Islamic codes of virtue. In Abu Dhabi, Zoepf reports on a generation of Arab women who've found freedom in work outside the home. In Saudi Arabia she chronicles driving protests and women entering the retail industry for the first time. In the aftermath of Tahrir Square, she examines the crucial role of women in Egypt's popular uprising.<br>Deeply informed, heartfelt, and urgent, Excellent Daughters brings us a new understanding of the changing Arab societies-from 9/11 to Tahrir Square to the rise of ISIS-and gives voice to the remarkable women at the forefront of this change.
- AutorKatherine Zoepf
- VerlagPenguin Putnam Inc
- FormatGebundene Ausgabe
- Seiten272 Seiten
- Gewicht494 g
- LeseprobeAUTHOR'S NOTE<br>This is a work of nonfiction. Because it grew out of my experiences reporting in the Arab world for other publications, some of the stories and details it contains have been published before, in other forms.<br>Hundreds of girls and young women in Egypt, Israel, Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Jordan, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates were generous enough to share their stories with me. They all understood that I was working as a journalist. Still, I've changed some names in the text, and I have not always given family names. I've done this whenever the subjects themselves requested it, and in a few cases where they didn't, because I was concerned that identifying them might cause embarrassment or compromise their safety. I also changed some identifying details.<br>As an outsider-and one with less than fluent Arabic, at that-I naturally feel some trepidation about drawing any conclusions about a population as vast, diverse, and quickly changing as the young women of the Arab world, and about writing in depth about a religion, Islam, that is not my own. I have tried to get things right and have discussed my ideas and findings with scholars of the Arab world and scholars of Islam-and as often as I could with the young women themselves, as well-but any failures of interpretation or analysis are mine alone.<br>Shoppers examine Valentine's Day gifts in a Damascus souk.<br>PROLOGUE<br>DECEMBER 2007-RIYADH<br>The twenty girls at the party in Reem's garden had all been classmates in a Riyadh private school. They were now seventeen and eighteen, and university students, but to me they seemed much younger. I wondered, at first, if I'd forgotten how eighteen-year-old girls behave; I was about to turn thirty. But the longer I sat among them that evening, cross-legged on a carpet laid over hard ground, under a bare fluorescent tube that bathed us in greenish light and seemed to make the sky above us appear particularly black and starless, the more girlish their mannerisms and chatter seemed. There was a great deal of cuddling and handholding, and there were effusive announcements of fondness. New arrivals were greeted with rapturous squeals. Even though I was both taking notes and paying particular attention to names, there were so many nicknames-sometimes several for the same girl-that I had a hard time keeping track of every Dodo, Soosoo, and Lulu.<br>The gathering was a good-bye party of sorts. Our hostess, Reem, was leaving in the morning on the hajj-the pilgrimage to Mecca that all Muslims are obliged to complete at least once during their lifetime, if they are able-and she had invited some old school friends over for the evening to mark the occasion
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