A Season in Tunis: A Critical Reading
Abstract
Mansi Dokoma’s poem turns a journey through Tunis into a meditation on memory, exile and the survival of places.
Poetry and literary criticism · Full reading edition
More than a travel poem
Mansi Dokoma’s poem is not merely a travel sketch. It is a profound meditation on memory, exile and the survival of places. Through the streets of Tunis, the northern hills and the twilight blue of Sidi Bou Saïd, the poet weaves a lyrical geography haunted by history and inhabited by silence.
The tension of wandering
From the opening lines, wandering creates a continuous tension between distance and immersion. The poet is both foreign to the city and attentive to its most intimate traces. Streets, walls and stones speak beneath their tiled surfaces.
Tunis as a mask of history
Carthage, Dido, Hannibal, the souks, prayers and the Jasmine Revolution resonate together. Tunis becomes a mask laid over millennia of history and unspoken suffering. The poem questions time, identity and erasure; the man at Al-Zaytuna prays that his shadow will not vanish into history’s hungry belly.
The city and the northern countryside
Urban wandering contrasts with the calm of northern Tunisia, where a woman kneads bread as though kneading time. Here, distance from markets, political speeches and fleeting revolutions becomes a form of wisdom. The poem slows and breathes like a last mint tea at Sidi Bou Saïd.
A city made character
The ending is restrained, bitter and dignified: Tunis lets the poet leave like a proud lover concealing her pain. The whole city becomes character, lover, mother and memory. A Season in Tunis is a world-poem—a song of exile and attachment situated at the crossroads of meditative, travelling and political poetry.
Discussion about the article
This space is dedicated to scholarly discussion. Reasoned disagreement and criticism are welcome. Insults, personal attacks, humiliating, discriminatory or threatening remarks are not permitted.
No contributions yet.