1. In Half Truth, you delve into a lot of Moroccan history, including the treatment of Amazigh people and the ways that they’ve adapted their cultural practices over time (whether by choice or not). The book also generally covers such a long span of time and travels a lot of ground. Especially coming from diaspora, what was the research process like for this? What was your favourite part of it all?
I have a background in academia, and possibly because of this, I relished the process of researching this novel. In fact, when I first decided I wanted to write a story based on my grandmother’s life, one of the motivating factors was the opportunity to do this research – I wanted to really get to know my grandmother – a woman I didn’t have the chance to meet, as she had died two years before I arrived in Morocco. To write her properly, I needed to get to know her cultural practices and beliefs so deeply that I could imagine myself inside her life experience which was completely different to my own.
So, I used lots of different methods for my research – from speaking to my family and other friends in Morocco – including a friend who was an activist in protecting the Tamazight language, to reading novels written about this era written by Moroccan people, reading texts on Moroccan political history and accessing academic articles on various topics. Ironically given the anti-colonialist themes at work in this novel, one important source of information for me were ethnographic texts by anthropologists who had catalogued Moroccan cultural practices and beliefs in the early 1900’s – a such as Edward Watermark, and Francoise Legey. These texts, whilst needing to be read through the context of their authors’ cultural bias, nevertheless catalogued many of the religious beliefs and practices of the Amazigh people as they were at the time my protagonist Khadija was living in the village outside Marrakech, and so were a really useful source of information.
Additionally, having travelled to Morocco regularly over the last 25 years has also given me lived experience of how things change – occasionally for the better. For example, when the novel is set in 1999, the Tamazight written language was completely unrepresented in broader Moroccan society – now, in 2024 it is taught in government schools and road signs and the names of government buildings are written in both Arabic and Tamazight. So, a positive story for once!
2. Half Truth does one of my favourite things that you can find in a well-executed historical, which is that its two timelines are parallel but reflect back onto each other. It shows the ways that womanhood and motherhood have changed over time, but also how some things have just sort of morphed into a new version of the same. Which of these themes do you find the most interesting to explore?
I am fascinated by questions of motherhood and identity, including how they interact with each other. Half Truth traverses the first year of motherhood for the protagonist Zahra - often now referred to as matrescence – the cataclysmic shift mothers experience after having a child. During matrescence, everything changes; from your body to your hormonal and psychological state and your sense of identity. This changing sense of self is Zahra’s motivation for heading to Morocco as she seeks to understand herself in the context of her cultural and familial background, in order to make sense of herself as a mother. I also wanted to speak to the issues of motherhood and identity for Khadija, as she transitions from a child from the village to a mother in the city. Importantly, Khadija finds support in the wisdom of an older female friend and mentor – something that Zahra also finds through her aunt Fatiha. This is also an important theme and constant source of fascination for me – the way that female friendships and platonic love can step in and take over when other forms of familial or romantic relationships fail.
3. I always find it fascinating to read a book where the characters are actually speaking in multiple languages throughout its events. You very intentionally include when people have swapped to different languages. What was your thought process behind this?
I guess this is something that I did intuitively. Every time I am in Morocco, whether I am with my family or in the souks of Marrakech, there are multiple languages being spoken around me at all times. Everyone has to work out how to make themselves understood, so it wouldn’t make sense for me to pretend that my characters didn’t have to navigate the same issues! For Zahra questions of language are important as the fact that she doesn’t speak Darija (Moroccan Arabic) is a constant reminder of her status as an outsider, despite her finding a sense of belonging in other ways. Similarly, Khadija also experiences this as she changes from her native Tamazight language to Moroccan Arabic (Darija) as she moves to the city after her marriage. So, this is an ever-present issue in a place like Marrakech which for millennia has been a meeting place for travelers from all across the Africa.
4. The novel has such strong characters (particularly in its protagonists Zara and Khadija), but there’s also a lot of plot intrigue pushing things along. What comes first for you in the writing process: characters or plot? Why?
For me, it’s always about the characters. As a reader, I need to care about the protagonist to keep reading, so as a writer this is the first thing I think about. But plot is important too – I love the feeling of not being able to put a book down because I want to know what happens next! I think in this novel, however, having a propulsive plot was important because the novel changes between two POV’s and two timelines, and so it was important to keep the reader moving forward, and make sure they didn’t get confused.
5. When white authors are writing novels, no one bats an eye that all their protagonists are also white like them. When it comes to authors of colour, there’s much less of an expectation of this. In Half Truth, you share a background with your protagonist. Do you think this is something that you’ll stick with going forward?
I share a background with the protagonist Zahra because this novel was inspired by my own life experience, and initially Zahra’s story was written as memoir, though it was subsequently fictionalized. So, unless I write memoir, I don’t expect that I will ever share a background quite as closely with any other character as I do with Zahra! That said, I am fascinated by Moroccan women’s stories, and so I do expect to continue to explore different aspects of that culture, simply because its where my interest lies. And I imagine I’ll keep writing complex and strong female characters, regardless of their cultural background. But of course, who knows! One of the things I love about writing fiction is the ability to inhabit lives that are different to my own, so I could end up anywhere I suppose!
6. Could you share two or three of your favourite (or recent favourite) reads by BIPOC authors?
I loved Jumaana Abdu’s Translations for its quiet and gentle rhythm, the gorgeous writing and for the exquisite portrayal of a complex and deeply spiritual protagonist in Aliyah. Similarly, I had my heart broken open by The Sunbird by Sara Haddad - a stunning representation of the deep loss and ongoing grief experienced by Palestinians. Thirdly, I loved the brutal and beautiful Dirt-Poor Islanders by Winnie Dunn. And, as my favourite author of all time, anything by Elif Shafak always jumps straight to the top my reading list and There are Rivers in The Sky did not disappoint.
7.Lastly: when was the first time you felt represented by a book? What was it?
I have struggled to answer this question. Possibly because I really want to say I don’t think I have ever felt truly represented by a book – which may be why I felt I needed to write my own story. I certainly can’t think of any Moroccan Australian protagonists in any novel I have ever read before. But there are books that stand out from my childhood– Judy Blume’s Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret comes to mind as the first time I ever read something that made me feel seen as a young girl; by talking about topics I was afraid to talk about in my own life. But as a mixed-race person, it’s only a lot more recently that I have felt my experience has been represented in Australian literature – Jason Om’s memoir All Mixed Up felt like a revelation to me, though I know , thankfully, there are now many more books that speak to this experience of being between cultures.
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About Nadia Mahjouri
NADIA MAHJOURI is a Moroccan Australian writer, counsellor, and group facilitator specialising in maternal mental health. Her professional background is in health policy, governance and academia, where her research focused on ethics and feminist philosophy.
Nadia and her husband live in Hobart/nipaluna with varying combinations of their family which includes three young adults, two school-aged children and a black labrador puppy called Russell Sprout.
She is the host of The Whole Truth: Motherhood and the Writing Life. In this podcast, Nadia interviews authors about how they manage to keep writing while living in the messy middle of family life, work and creativity.
