Related Interest
Gaza In My Phone
“It is difficult to find the right way in this chaotic world, but if you take Mazen Kerbaj as your moral compass you won’t get lost.”
—Bob Ostertag“Mazen’s work is an inversion of a heavily surveilled algorithm that draws the eye and always touches the heart.”
—Saul Williams“Razor sharp … impeccably articulate.”
—The Wire“An accomplished cartoonist.”
—Chicago Reader“With spare, masterful ink strokes, Mazen Kerbaj is able to distill, from the daily live broadcast of the genocide in Gaza, drawings that confound the ideological shroud that systematically dehumanizes Palestinians.”
—Rasha Salti“A witness to a war we’re constantly asked to look away from, as a reminder of a disaster we’re asked to forget. It’s a downright necessary book, uncomplicated for an uncomplicated situation.”
—Rabbi Alameddine“Mazen Kerbaj’s heartbreaking book will stand as a testament to both the power and the pain of witnessing the horrors inflicted on the people of Gaza.”
—Joe Saccoabout the bookabout
Gaza is the first genocide to be captured in real-time images on devices we hold in our hands. Two days after October 7, the Lebanese comic artist Mazen Kerbaj began drawing in reaction to what was appearing in his phone. This powerful and original book brings together that work.
Mazen draws in part to bear witness and raise awareness, but also as a coping mechanism, to remain sane amid the unfolding madness. His straight-to-the-point, high-contrast black-and-white art is accompanied by striking slogans and captions. It has been shared widely around the world, helping people express their solidarity with Palestine.
Produced from Berlin, a city where the repression of Palestinian support has been particularly fierce, Mazen’s drawings raise fundamental questions about seeing as an act of solidarity when those in power seek to suppress news of what is happening.
Haunted by the live-streamed images, we dread seeing more when we open our phones. By representing them in simple cartoons, Mazen allows us to scrutinize and reflect on the horrors we have witnessed. The result is an extraordinary sequence of images and messages that ask us to pause for a moment, to stop, look, mourn, and summon the resolve to head out and join the fight for the living, for life, for justice.
About The Author / Editor
Preview
View as a flipbook
in the media
Related Interest
Related Interest
Gaza In My Phone
“It is difficult to find the right way in this chaotic world, but if you take Mazen Kerbaj as your moral compass you won’t get lost.”
—Bob Ostertag“Mazen’s work is an inversion of a heavily surveilled algorithm that draws the eye and always touches the heart.”
—Saul Williams“Razor sharp … impeccably articulate.”
—The Wire“An accomplished cartoonist.”
—Chicago Reader“With spare, masterful ink strokes, Mazen Kerbaj is able to distill, from the daily live broadcast of the genocide in Gaza, drawings that confound the ideological shroud that systematically dehumanizes Palestinians.”
—Rasha Salti“A witness to a war we’re constantly asked to look away from, as a reminder of a disaster we’re asked to forget. It’s a downright necessary book, uncomplicated for an uncomplicated situation.”
—Rabbi Alameddine“Mazen Kerbaj’s heartbreaking book will stand as a testament to both the power and the pain of witnessing the horrors inflicted on the people of Gaza.”
—Joe Saccoabout the bookabout
Gaza is the first genocide to be captured in real-time images on devices we hold in our hands. Two days after October 7, the Lebanese comic artist Mazen Kerbaj began drawing in reaction to what was appearing in his phone. This powerful and original book brings together that work.
Mazen draws in part to bear witness and raise awareness, but also as a coping mechanism, to remain sane amid the unfolding madness. His straight-to-the-point, high-contrast black-and-white art is accompanied by striking slogans and captions. It has been shared widely around the world, helping people express their solidarity with Palestine.
Produced from Berlin, a city where the repression of Palestinian support has been particularly fierce, Mazen’s drawings raise fundamental questions about seeing as an act of solidarity when those in power seek to suppress news of what is happening.
Haunted by the live-streamed images, we dread seeing more when we open our phones. By representing them in simple cartoons, Mazen allows us to scrutinize and reflect on the horrors we have witnessed. The result is an extraordinary sequence of images and messages that ask us to pause for a moment, to stop, look, mourn, and summon the resolve to head out and join the fight for the living, for life, for justice.
About The Author / Editor
Preview