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An Omani book that explores tale of tradition, longing and self-discovery
In a landscape painted with steep, jagged mountains, whispering winds, and quiet villages tucked away from the busy world, three men made their way up that rocky face. Their hands steady on the rough ground, eyes fixed on the prize of untouched honey stored high in the cliffs. But this isn't just a story about men collecting sweet nectar from wild bees — it's a deeper, more reflective journey into desire, purity, and the restless hunger that exists inside all of us.
This is the heart of "Honey Hunger," a novel by Omani writer Zahran Alqasmi. First published in 2017, the book is as much about the landscape and traditional way of life as it is about the inner struggles that lurk beneath. Its narrative smoothly blends folklore, natural beauty, and human psychology into a calm yet striking meditation on what we seek — and what we might risk losing — in the pursuit of something pure.
The story revolves around three men: Azzan, Abdullah, and Nasser, all of whom have travelled into the mountains to harvest honey that is as pure as it comes. They want to sell it in the city, but what begins as a simple task soon reveals itself to be a symbolic quest that taps into much more than just commerce. The bees and the honey transform into symbols — of cleansing, temptation, and the lasting effects of our desires.
Right from the start, "Honey Hunger" pulls you into its world by using ta'weebat — short, traditional folkloric chants that are often recited for protection or healing. These chants don't just decorate the story; they give it a steady rhythm, like a heartbeat, connecting the reader to a world where myths and everyday life run side by side. The chants invoke a sense of ritual, of something sacred sitting just beneath the ordinary, binding the spiritual with the tangible.
Zahran Alqasmi's writing is purposeful and understated. His words flow quietly, like a mountain wind — gentle, but carrying a quiet power. There's no need for flourish or showiness here. Instead, his prose is calm, sensory, and evocative, urging you forward both with its beauty and its depth. It's a book that rewards close reading, inviting you to slow down and reflect on the subtle points it makes beneath its tranquil surface.
Each of the three characters carries their own symbolism and inner conflict. Azzan is haunted by guilt, wrestling with the idea that in his quest for purity, he might be betraying himself. Abdullah floats in ambiguity, unsure whether his motives are honourable or selfish. Nasser acts impulsively, almost madly, driven by a thirst that seems spiritual but edges into obsession. As they climb and work, their personal struggles mirror the rugged terrain they traverse — steep, unpredictable, and demanding.
What really sets the novel apart, however, is how vividly it captures Omani traditions and its natural environment, not as distant or exotic backgrounds, but as living, breathing parts of the story. From the local customs of honey gathering to the quiet dignity of village life, everything feels rooted in reality. The mountain isn't just scenery; it's a character in its own right, shaping and testing those who venture into it.
Zahran Alqasmi's language nurtures that sense of authenticity. His depiction of speech, customs, and the landscape helps bring Oman to life on the page. It's not about exoticism or romanticising the setting — it's about showing the depth of a culture grounded in centuries of tradition and a profound relationship with nature. The mountain is neither distant nor intimidating; it commands respect, much like the spiritual weight of the story itself.
The novel was translated into English by Marilyn Booth, a respected translator who also gave us the English version of Jokha Alharthi's "Celestial Bodies." Booth captures Alqasmi's delicate rhythm and spiritual undertow beautifully, allowing native English readers to experience the subtlety and depth of the original text.
Although "Honey Hunger" didn't land major literary awards when it came out, it marked an important step for Alqasmi's career. His subsequent novel, "The Exile of the Water Diviner," won the Arabic Booker Prize in 2023, making him the first Omani author to achieve such recognition. It speaks to the steady rise of a writer whose work is increasingly gaining international appreciation.
At its core, the novel isn't just about honey or mountain climbing — it's about human hunger: the kind that pushes us to seek answers, redemption, or simply a moment of clarity in a world full of noise and distraction. It explores the inner landscapes that are often just as rugged as the physical ones; the desire to find meaning amid chaos and the risks involved in chasing that elusive sense of purity.
Reading this book is as much about the journey as it is about discovering what lies beneath the surface of human desire. It invites the reader to slow down, to listen to the whispers of tradition and nature, and to reflect on how our inner landscapes mirror the ruggedness of the mountains. The characters' internal struggles, much like the ascent on the cliffs, aren't straightforward; they're layered, sometimes ambiguous, and ultimately personal.
Zahran Alqasmi's "Honey Hunger" isn't just a story about men seeking honey in the mountains. It's a poetic meditation on the ways in which we chase after things that promise clarity and purity but often come with hidden costs. It explores the tension between spiritual longing and worldly temptation, all set against the stark beauty of Oman's natural environment. The novel's subtle spiritual undercurrents challenge us to think about what truly satisfies the hunger within — whether that's for authenticity, redemption, or simply peace of mind.
