The Eighth Day: A Novella and Other Stories

Meleka's works, as evident in The Eighth Day novella, construct three levels of reading, addressing three distinct types of readers. The first level-what might be called the ground floor of the literary edifice-is occupied by the reader who does not engage in interpretation, unable to decode the text's intellectual subtext, and who is content with its explicit, surface-level meaning. The second level-the upper floor-is home to Meleka's ideal reader, the one he relies on to give his work resonance. This reader shares the author's cultural formation and philosophical background, making it possible to undertake the interpretive process and discern the deeper purposes behind the writing, as in Abdel Hady Abdel Hady story and other stories in this collection. Above this, at a higher tier, resides the sought-after reader, the one who does not merely interpret the text's philosophical and intellectual layers but actively dialogues with the author's ideas, challenging and expanding them. A good example is found in Aunt Samira story at the end, where the main protagonist is entirely absent, as she had died before the event unfolds. This reader may be either a supporter of Meleka's viewpoints or an opponent to them. Indeed, Meleka's novels and stories are inherently dialogic and argumentative, inviting readers to engage with their ideas-whether in agreement or opposition. An examination of the stylistic and artistic aspects of Meleka's works reveals that, for him, writing is an ongoing workshop, a space of continual exploration and renewal from one book to the next. This is particularly evident in the diversity of narrative techniques he employs across his short stories, novellas and novels. His storytelling shifts between third-person narration and first-person narration, with narrators oscillating between the omniscient storyteller, who knows everything about the characters, and the external narrator with zero knowledge, who is as surprised by unfolding events as the reader, grasping only fragments of the fictional world's truths. While some texts are dominated by a neutral perspective, others adopt an interior, subjective point of view, causing the language to shift accordingly-from an objective, descriptive, and restrained prose to a lyrical, emotionally charged style, where narration opens up to poetry, and world representation becomes deeply intertwined with self-expression. No reader of Meleka's works can miss their strong connection to the aural and visual arts. This bond is evident in the way music, painting, cinema, and dance are interwoven into the narrative world. His works are populated with musicians, brimming with discussions of cinema, rich with evocative references to paintings and visual art, and frequently animated by moments of dance and ecstatic movement. More significant than these direct allusions, however, is Meleka's absorption of artistic techniques into his narrative craft, transforming them into engines of literary creativity. Likewise, Meleka's ability to sculpt his characters with portrait-like precision reflects his engagement with the principles of painting, balancing proportions and harmonizing dimensions, forms, and gestures. His adoption of polyphonic narration, wherein the original narrator remains veiled, merely transmitting the viewpoints of different characters, reveals an unmistakable influence of symphonic music-transforming the novel into a polyphonic text where multiple voices converge in a harmonious composition, orchestrated by a skillful maestro who guides the overall structure with subtlety and precision. Many dialogues in Meleka's works take on a theatrical quality, extending over long stretches of text, with conversations unfolding in a circular fashion or even adopt an almost tirade-like rhythm.