Dar El Shorouk Radwa Ashour's Novels: Heavier Than Radwa

A teacher in disguise, or a personality complex of creation in which opposites and opposites meet? After the sixty-seventh day, I spent four decades of it studying at the university. Some of those I taught became professors with students. No, dear reader, I do not review my achievements before I finish the book, but rather try to answer the question I posed in the beginning of the paragraph. You will not notice that I am sixty-seven, not because old age does not yet appear on my features, nor because if you knock on my door now, a relatively small woman who wears simple clothes will open to you, her hair is boyish short, although white is predominantly black, almost absent not only for these reasons, but because the woman, I mean, Radwa, as soon as she finds the street relatively empty, she goes to kick any small stone she encounters with her right foot, time after time in an attempt to get it as far as possible. She does as any grocer boy of ten makes up by kicking the little stone for the boredom of his endless journeys to deliver the orders home, and for his desire for play that is not available because he works all day long. In these sections of her autobiography, "Radwa Ashour" combines scenes from the revolution and her experience in facing illness over the past three years, linking her to previous and earlier years, telling about university, liberation and the martyrs, telling about herself, and reflecting on the act of writing.