Praise for The Devils’ Dance Winner of the EBRD Literature Prize 2019 ‘[Ismailov is] a writer of immense poetic power.’ — Guardian ‘Ismailov shows that even under extreme duress, a writ- er’s mind will still swim with ideas and inspiration… Rebellious, ironic, witty and lyrical… A work that both honours and renews that rich tradition [of Central Asian literature]. For all its complexity, The Devils’ Dance is utterly readable.’ — Caroline Eden, Financial Times ‘Captivating… A rare example of Uzbek literature trans- lated into the English language – in this case admirably so by Donald Rayfield.’ — Natasha Randall, Times Literary Supplement ‘With its spies, police, princes, poets and great plot, [The Devils’ Dance] is an Uzbek Game of Thrones. The sto- rytelling style captures perfectly the prose and poetry of Central Asia while being incredibly readable in English.’ — Rosie Goldsmith, chair of judges, EBRD Prize ‘Might Hamid Ismailov’s The Devils’ Dance open Central Asian literature to the world as Gabriel García Márquez’s novels did for Latin America? Probably not – things rarely work out like that – but perhaps it deserves to.’ — Peter Gordon, Asian Review of Books ‘An intricate mixture of fact and fiction… Defiant’ — Jane Shilling, New Statesman ‘Brilliantly translated by Donald Rayfield… A rich and enthralling book’ — Tatler.com ‘Effective and moving… [Ismailov completes] his impres- sive portrait of the artist and his culture – and his dreadful times’ — Complete Review ‘A beguiling tale of khans, commissars, spies and poet- queens… feature in a rare English translation of modern Uzbek fiction.’ — Economist ‘Throughout these parallel stories, Ismailov finds moments of utter horror and of quiet relief.’ — Words Without Borders ‘A beautiful evocation of different Central Asian historical worlds… The Devils’ Dance is a powerful symbol of hope in Uzbekistan.’ — Calvert Journal ‘My book of the year.’ — Caroline Eden ‘A mesmerising – and terrifying – novel of tremendous range, energy and potency. This brilliant translation estab- lishes Ismailov as a major literary figure on the international scene.’ — William Boyd ‘A great and timeless caravanserai.’ — Barry Langridge, Former Head of Asia Region, BBC World Service O F STRANGERS AND BEES TRANSLATED BY OF STRANGERS AND BEES A HAYY IBN YAQZAN TALE HAMID ISMAILOV SHELLEY FAIRWEATHER-VEGA TILTED AXIS PRESS TRANSLATOR’S INTRODUCTION The novel you hold in your hands is not the first to boast the name Hayy ibn Yaqzan. Our present tale spans centuries and half the globe, but it is mostly the quite modern story of a writer in exile in the tumul- tuous waning days of the twentieth century. The very first Hayy ibn Yaqzan, on the other hand, was the eponymous protagonist of an eleventh-century alle- gory by the Persian philosopher Avicenna. Or shall we call him the Uzbek philosopher Abu Ali ibn Sino? However we think of him, this great thinker tended to write sweeping tracts covering all available knowl- edge on a topic: The Canon of Medicine; The Book of Impartial Judgment; essays on the nature of scientific inquiry, physics, psychology and Islamic theology; poetry, even. But one of his more neglected legacies is a short story called ‘Hayy ibn Yaqzan’, a name which translates to something like ‘Alive, son of Awake’. Ibn Sino’s ‘Hayy’ features a wise old sage telling a curi- 4 Of Strangers and Bees ous travelling narrator about the nature of life and the world around him. Major sections of Of Strangers and Bees – this current Hayy ibn Yaqzan – open with quo- tations from the original, as translated from Persian to French, then to English, and later revised by me with an eye to the Arabic-to-Russian translation by Artur Vladimirovich Sagadeyev. The next writer to seize on the name and the title was the Moorish philosopher Ibn Tufail, in the twelfth century. This newer, longer, Arabic-language Hayy ibn Yaqzan posed a thought experiment: what would happen to a man raised by a deer on an island uninhabited by people? Ibn Tufail’s subject teaches himself science and logic. Later, when he encoun- ters a castaway from the civilised world, he has the opportunity to compare his own pure way of life with the experience of most human beings as they inter- act with society and material things. The European Renaissance discovered Ibn Tufail’s tale and produced a Latin translation called Philosophus Autodidactus, pub- lished in 1671. This seems to have influenced a whole swath of Enlightenment thinkers who conjured up political philosophies based on their ruminations of mankind in a state of nature. A Moorish physician named Ibn Tufail makes a passing appearance in Of Strangers and Bees, too Ismailov 5 (though there is a decent chance that this particular Ibn Tufail may simply be a double). More promi- nently featured is Avicenna, Ibn Sino himself, who, you are going to have to believe, did not in fact die in the eleventh century, but has instead been condemned to roam the world. The hero of this story – whose friends call him The Sheikh – is also consigned to wander as a writer in political exile from his native Uzbekistan. His search for Avicenna, combined with his attempts to earn a living and a little respect in the wider world, sends him on a quest through Western Europe and the United States. Everywhere he goes, he finds traces of Avicenna, and with them, traces of his own ambiguous cultural and religious heritage. Hamid Ismailov’s imaginative iteration of Hayy ibn Yaqzan tackles big, important ideas of man and society, art and philosophy, but it is a deeply personal novel, too. It’s impossible to forget that this story of an Uzbek writer in exile was in fact written by an Uzbek writer in exile, one who has had to reconcile a Sufi upbringing with a post-Soviet political real- ity in a multicultural and materialistic Western world. The episodes in this novel that examine late twen- tieth-century life in exile are plainly written, full of small triumphs and humiliations, and remarkable for their strange mixture of absurdity and banality. Then 6 Of Strangers and Bees there are the episodes in between, where the think- ing, the magic, the passion in this novel are sunk into its fables and parables and brand new tales from the Arabian Nights. Here you will find talking animals, beautiful princesses, conniving kings, and, of course, a mysterious wandering Stranger. And then there are the bees. Ismailov has an appar- ent affinity for the hive insects, and in this book, they take centre stage. Do the bees represent the swarming Soviet (or post-Soviet) masses? Are they humanity, working according to patterns and towards goals of which they have only a dim awareness? If we’re all bees in a hive, then who is in charge? On the other hand, the bees in this novel are part of a larger cul- tural and religious tradition. Avicenna (and Aristotle) wrote extensively on bees, with the Uzbek philoso- pher especially interested in the nature of bee venom and the healing properties of honey. The Quran has a whole chapter called The Bee. They must have some- thing to teach us. But you will have to discover what that might be for yourselves. ON SUFISM Like Persian literature, alongside which it is often nonchalantly classified, Uzbek literature was once Ismailov 7 essentially Sufi in nature. Sufism was mostly born in the Persian and Turkic world, and expressed and transmitted from there in literary form. Ismailov tells me that Sufism was in fact a way of adapting Arabic- born Islam for the Persian and Turkic world. Great Sufi teachers such as Jalaluddin Rumi (Persian) and Ahmad Yasawi (Turkic) retold the Holy Quran and Islamic religious thought in a literary, poetic form in their own languages. There’s a famous saying about the Mesnevi, Rumi’s main work: Masnavii ma’navii Mavlaviy / Hast Qur’on dar zaboni Pahlaviy. Or, in English: The Mesnevi and its meanings by Mevlevi (that is, Rumi) / Is a Quran in the language of Pehlevi (Persian). One could read this novel as Ismailov’s return to the roots of Uzbek literature with a multilayered Sufi parable, in which the narrator, Avicenna, and the bee called Sino are all on the path of searching for something bigger than themselves. In this Hayy ibn Yaqzan, Avicenna’s lonely spirit is present at the turn- ing points in world history, inviting us to reconsider their significance while applying both logic and intui- tion, knowledge and emotions, the conscious and the subconscious, the rational and the mystic. Here, the ancient polymath’s presence as the Stranger serves one of the main maxims of Sufism: the idea of annihilating 8 Of Strangers and Bees the ego and experiencing one’s own life through the eyes of the Other. That, in fact, is the core principle which shapes this Hayy ibn Yaqzan, just as the others which preceded it. ON DATES Time is marked in Hijri years, which begin with Muhammad’s move from Mecca to Yathrib in 622 AD and go on from there following the lunar calen- dar. Avicenna’s (first) death is dated here as 18 June in the year AD 1037. Contemporary passages take place in the mid to late 1980s; the first contemporary epi- sode, dated Year of the Hijra 1409, is AD 1988. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This novel came to me in several versions, some Uzbek, some Russian. What you have here is a new English alternative that mostly follows the Russian, and which is more complete, and that has been checked against and altered to fit the Uzbek in which Ismailov originally conceived of the tale. This novel is arguably at least as Uzbek as Avicenna.