My teachers

Author's name: Khairy Shalaby

Perhaps no one celebrated their teachers as much as Khairy Shalaby did. The truth is that these teachers were not just his teachers, but teachers for all the generations that lived alongside them and those who followed them. Their contribution to Egyptian and Arab literature, culture, and thought was - and still is - unparalleled.

👇He says about Taha Hussein:

I believe that the glow of Dr. Taha Hussein will never fade in our lives. He is an ever-present reality with whom you can engage in dialogue about dozens and hundreds of issues and opinions that he raised, which are still alive today because they all relate to life, humanity, and national pride. They strived to place us rightfully at the heart of the modern era.

👇And he says about Tawfiq al-Hakim

.. But the most difficult task, in my opinion, is that which Al-Hakim undertook in liberating the Arabic style from the hum of empty literature, with its rhetorical embellishments, alliteration, antithesis, and prolixity, and so on. He also liberated it from monotonous rhetoric, from the false rhetorical glow, which gives you a polished, cast, and cast appearance, but which has no real roots in the land of meaning or in any land.

👇And Yahya Haqqi says:

Yahya Haqqi's magic wand extends, creeping into our hearts like a revival, like the effect of a healing medicine. Its tender edges touch the embers hidden beneath the ashes of the years and the daily worries that intrude on our authentic Arab conscience, which is full of humanity. Great values, intimate customs, and beliefs rich with human feelings quickly awaken in the soul...

👇And about Naguib Mahfouz he writes:

Naguib Mahfouz is truly amazingly innovative, and his vast artistic world always pushes him to invent angles and areas of vision through which he can reveal the most minute details that make up his world, so that it seems as if his world is endless, and his ability to innovate and innovate is limitless.

👇And about Youssef Idris, he writes in his obituary:

It is not enough for me - never, never, nor does it console me that Youssef Idris remains immortal in the conscience of humanity and alive in the tongues of generations, and other such phrases like a medicinal painkiller, this does not console me even if it is true - nor is it enough for me to withdraw in moments of longing one of his intimate and highly valuable books. I must see what my eyes see.