Even if you have never read a book by the Egyptian writer and Nobel Prize Naguib Mahfouz, his powerful words have probably found their way to your ear, probable without realizing it.
An appointment that continues to undulating through the Internet is: “The home is not where you are born; the home is where all your attempts to escape cease.” Shared in countless designs and styles, its truth has found its own online home, which resonates with hearts worldwide.
One of the ways in which Mahfouz’s work continues to echo through the modern world, especially with younger generations, is through the evolution art of their book covers. In the years, several artists have reinvented their visulated stories, each design that reflects the spirit of their time.
In our time in the 2020s, that torch has been transported by the award -winning Egyptian illustrator Nesma Moharam, who began reinterpreting Mahfouz’s novels in collaboration with Diwan Publishing in 2023.
His work brought a new visual language to his collection, which includes fourteen floors that track the eternal dance between life and death. Like Mahfouz’s writing, Moharam’s art work leads us to that liminal space between life and death; A place where one stands at the edge of a cliff, with one foot rooted in reality and the other wandering by the invisibles. His illustrations take us in, back to the heart, touching feelings that we can have forgotten for a long time.
This project is only one among many in the growing Moharam portfolio. Over the years, he has given his distinctive touch to collaborations with some of the most emblematic brands and editors in the world, including Adidas, The New Yorker, The Folio Society, Propublic and many others.
He thought it comes from a different moment, the spirit of Mahfouz still persists as the great sphinx, wrong and unwavering, recorded in the memory of Egyptians and Arabs equally. After all, he is proudly remembered as the father of the Arab novel.
Next, the Egyptian streets spoke with Nesma Moharam to deepen their trip to illustrate the works of Naguib Mahfouz.
Do you remember the moment you discovered that you would be collaborating with Diwan in the Naguib Mahfouz project? How was that day for you and how did you feel when you receive the news?
I remember it clearly. I had just finished a long day of work when I received a call from Yousef Sabry, the creative director of the project. He told me that they wanted to design four book covers for the Naguib Mahfouz series. It was a very welcome surprise. I felt really honored because Mahfouz has had such a deep impact on Arab literature, and I was eager to start thinking about how to bring his world to images.
Was there any early idea that I had for the project that did not make the cut? How did you start shaping the creative direction in general?
At first, I mistreated some different concepts for each cover. There are ideas that were completely cut; It was more about refining and choosing the direction that felt more true to the spirit of the work. I spent time reading the novels closely. Mahfouz’s writing combines depth, realism and mystery in such a different way.
The first sketches bowed more literally, focusing on scenes and characters, but it was clear that a more symbolic and atmospheric approach would resonate more deeply. I concentrated on evoking the emotional currents of stories instead of illustrating specific events, while I kept rooted in Egyptian environments and visual elements.
Mahfouz’s work is deeply rooted in Cairo and Egyptian culture. How did you bring that spirit to your design approach?
Cairo in Mahfouz’s work is not just a configuration; He feels alive, almost like a character itself. I wanted the illustrations to reflect that spirit. I tried to weave in family parts of Egyptian life, such as ancient architecture, the rhythm of the streets, the feeling of the neighborhoods and the traditional attire, but seen through a slightly dramatic lens to reflect emotional deposits.
Your covers feel fresh and modern. How did this balance between honoring Mahfouz’s legacy and make the designs resonate with a younger audience?
I didn’t want the covers to feel frozen in the past. Mahfouz’s stories are still very alive, and wanted the images to have that same feeling, preserving depth and spirit, but speaking in a language closer to a new generation. I bowed to cinematographic lighting, minimal but emotionally rich compositions, and a subtle surrealism, especially through scale and perspective.
In Ahlam Fatrat al Naqaha (Dreams of departure 2024), a ghostly bird looks at a dark room, hiding a lonely figure hidden inside and creating a surrealist pull anchored by an Egyptian family environment. In Al Hob Fawq Hadabat Al Haram (Love Over The Pyramid Plateau, 2024), Hogy’s legs turn over small figures and the steps of the pyramids, a scale game that attracts Viener, especially in a place where nothing is left. And in Al Shaytan Yaez (Evil Predáses, 2024), a massive figure of statue is surrounded by followers, with a snake that around him, combining the surrealist with the real. This approach helped create a visual hook, something that feels timeless but also fresh enough to connect with younger readers.
Do you have some personal favorites of the book covers you designed? What makes them stand out for you?
It is difficult to choose, but some stayed with me. Al Hob Fawq Hadabat Al Haram, (Love Over The Pyramid Plateau, 2024) stands out for the way he plays with the scale, causing human figures to feel equally larger than the pyramids and creating a feeling of astonishment and quiet absurd. Ahlam Fatrat al Naqaha (Dreams of departure 2024) also feels personal. The bird looking towards the room, the lonely figure that is not visible, captures a loneliness and reflection that hoped it would be delayed with the viewer. Both covers, in different ways, balance between realism and sleep, which became a thread throughout the series.
