Youliana

Juliana isn't exactly a woman, nor is she just a saint. She's a city. She's a conscience. She's the silent force that speaks when it must and carefully chooses who she addresses. It's enough to touch her grave, to caress her ghost, it's enough to be a little crazy, a lot excluded according to the narrow laws of humanity, it's enough to have a pure heart, for her to come to you. Near Mosul, in a small, humble monastery in the village of Karamles, Juliana's spirit flutters over the city. There, she communicates with her disciples, witnesses the changes taking place in the distant, isolated town as it opens its doors to the winds of modernization. Juliana doesn't fight with the sword of religion, as the new intruders do. She doesn't condemn the transformations that swept the town's people toward pleasures and the winds of modernity. She is the witness, the absent presence, that radiant mass that does not appear often, but, when she does appear, lights up the world. "Yuliana" emulates the style of magical realism through the story of a small forgotten city and two generations of its children. Between the epic, the religious, and the secular, the writer, with a keen eye and a sarcastic, sharp pen imbued with history and myth, addresses Iraq yesterday and today, specifically its Christian community. Youliana is not quite a woman, and not just a saint. She's a city. A conscience. She's the silent power that speaks when she must and chooses carefully whom to address. It is just adequate to touch her grave and gratify her spirit. It's adequate to be a little crazy, and immensely excluded in accordance with the restricted formalities of humankind. It is adequate to be kindhearted so that she comes upon you. Outside Mosul, in a small modest monastery in the town of Karamles, Youliana's spirit flutters over the city. There, she communicates with her disciples, and witnesses the changes occurring in the remote secluded town, as she opens its doors to the wind of modernization. Youliana doesn't fight with the sword of religion like the new Outlanders do. She doesn't condemn the transformations that drifted the townspeople towards pleasures and the winds of modernism. She is the witness. She is the absent bystander. She's that beaming force that does not appear much but lights the world if it does. “Youliana” simulates the magical realism style through the story of an obliterated small town and two generations of children. Between the epic, the religious, and the mundane, the writer overviews Iraq's past and present, precisely its Christian community, with a perceptive vision and a satirical expressive style coupled with a touch of history and myth.