Susan Abulhawa’s new Gaza anthology chronicles the unbearable

These are some of the questions that Palestinian writers grapple with in Every Moment Is a Life: Gaza in the Time of Genocide, an anthology edited by Palestinian-American writer Susan Abulhawa. The collection brings together the short stories by 18 writers from Gaza, shedding light on life amid destruction.

Set against the violence that is now approaching its third year, the stories insist on the humanity of the people living through it. They point to the scale of the devastation through the daily struggles of Palestinians, but do not reduce them to mere statistics or victims. Instead, they illuminate a rich tapestry of life, and a range of emotions. Some focus on moments of grace and joy — the aroma of coffee or shakshuka being cooked and shared among displaced family members in a tent.

Others dwell on the daily indignities of life, such as standing in long queues outside communal toilets, water becoming a diminishing resource, or surviving on food coupons, after a lifetime of working to bring food to the table. In Fatma Asfour’s Fashionista, the protagonist Rosa is determined to stand out in a sea of people with whom she shelters in an encampment at a school in Khan Younis. Her resistance reflects a universal desire for individuality amid strife. Other stories also reflect on the broader struggle of living through a genocide and economic uncertainty.

The anthology works on different levels: It is part testimony, part literary prose and part archival. It has an emotional range that oscillates between shared grief and alienating suffering; despair and hope.

Coffee by Old Blue by Muhammad Mu’ammar kicks off with the vivid imagery of Gaza’s Mediterranean shoreline, which now marks the final frontier of a homeland slipping away. The displaced narrator, now living by the sea — a location he once coveted as a place to build a home — is torn between his fondness for its deep blue waters and the sorrows they have come to hold. The story highlights a recurring theme of the struggle of Palestinians to feel like they belong on their own land.

Ghassan Salam’s Ma’rouf, on the other hand, evokes tenderness and fear for the children coming under Israeli bombardment. In a world determined to look away, it stands out in its refusal to provide any relief.

Also central to the storytelling are the Palestinian women. Not only are 12 of the 18 contributors women, but many of the male writers reflect on their mothers’ anxieties or on losing their wives, offering a touching portrayal of their relationships with the women. Though bare of nonessential words, the stories often hit starkly lyrical notes while remaining rooted in the history of the land — a testament to the legacy of Refaat Alareer and Heba Abu Nada, among other slain Palestinian poets and writers.

The anthology feels crucial to the Palestinian narrative, large parts of which remain missing from daily news. In between its lines is a disenchantment with the world that abandoned Gaza. The writers don’t intend to make it a comfortable read. Instead, they uphold the complexity of Palestinian life to demand a response to the crisis.