George Haddad on ‘Losing Face’
George Haddad’s Losing Face (May, UQP) follows the lives of an intergenerational Lebanese-Australian family living in Western Sydney. Told primarily from the perspective of young protagonist Joey, Haddad’s narrative reveals the complexities around masculinity and the Arab-Australian experience. Reviewer Daniel Nour spoke to the author.
In what ways do the strict cultural expectations of Arab-Australian communities inform and change your characters? Would they be happier without the pressure to conform to these expectations?
One of the things I wanted to achieve in writing Losing Face was to demonstrate the nuance within the Arab-Australian community. While it’s a great time for writers from diverse backgrounds, it’s important that what is published isn’t rehashing or recycling stereotypes that aren’t really saying anything new or shedding light on different identities—the strict Arab parents, the queer struggling to come to terms with their identity and not wanting to disappoint their family—that’s not the sum total of the community.
There are those who abide by strict cultural expectations and there are those who don’t and I think the Harb family, while they are conscious of their community, are critical of it too. I think cultural expectations have become somewhat homogenised in certain parts of Australia and I’m not sure that the characters in Losing Face are bound by strict Arab-Australian expectations as much as they are by human ones.
One of the unique achievements of your novel is the authentic way it handles queerness in the Arab-Australian community, when it’s so typically associated with Anglo-Australians. How does the queer experience differ for ethnic boys?
I know Arabs who have had a rough time accepting different elements of their identity and I know some who haven’t at all. I also know white people who have struggled and white people who haven’t. We often hear about the struggling queer Arab and not the one who isn’t struggling. That’s what I wanted Joey and his family to embody and not just for the sake of it, but because this is how I imagine this family to authentically accept these elements of their lives.
Who is this novel for? Do you see it as filling a void in terms of the exploration or representation of Arab-Australian communities?
Honestly, I didn’t set out for it to fill a void but I see now how it might and that’s a bonus. I just like telling stories, and that this family is Lebanese-Australian is as much a part of the novel as it isn’t.
In Losing Face strong women defer to cultural expectations and make sacrifices for their children. What is the importance of motherhood for your protagonist’s journey?
There was this revelatory point in my own childhood when I realised that my mother had been a child once too and had lived a whole life before I came to be. I think this is what Joey is experiencing, albeit a little too late. For Elaine, I think she is realising that as a mother and a grandmother she made some poor choices but that time passes by quickly and she did the best she could. Motherhood is a monster of a role that non-mothers will never comprehend but I am very glad to have been a product of it.
Violence, especially sexual violence, colours the experience of your characters. Can we understand the Lebanese-Australian experience without this kind of stigma?
I think the violence in Losing Face is more about men than it is about any other group of people. To answer your question: I think we can understand the Lebanese-Australian experience without any kind of stigma—we can understand them as humans of the modern world.
What was the last book you read and loved?
Permafrost by S J Norman (UQP).
Read Daniel Nour’s review of Losing Face here.
Category: Features
