On language, memory, and belonging

Dear friends,

I’d like to share two very special conversations with you, both of which were just released on video. They’re from Jewish Book Week in London, where, back in March, I was honored to share the stage on two separate occasions with writers whom I deeply admire.

The first is with Eduardo Halfon, whose books Monastery and Tarantula are two of the best novels I’ve read this year (both are translated from the Spanish by Daniel Hahn, who moderated the talk, and whose own translation diary Catching Fire is also a fantastic read). Halfon was born in Guatemala to a Jewish family of Syrian/Lebanese and Polish descent. He lived in the United States for much of his childhood, and now lives in Europe. As you might imagine, we have a lot in common when it comes to our complex relationships with the languages we speak, the ways we interpret (and write about) family and personal histories, and the places we call home. Watch or listen to our conversation here.

The second talk is with Samantha Ellis, whose memoir Always Carry Salt is an invaluable reflection on trying to preserve our families’ shared “mother tongue,” Judeo-Iraqi Arabic (the Arabic spoken by the Jewish community of Baghdad for centuries, which is now quickly fading from existence). Among other things, we talked about why the languages we don’t speak sometimes mark us just as much as (or more than) the ones we do. You can watch it here or listen to the podcast version on Spotify, moderated by the wonderful Eylan Ezekiel.

Both of these conversations mean a lot to me, because together they are a rare deep-dive into my linguistic journey, my family story, and my Jewish background, in all of its joyous complications. Since March, I’ve practiced my Arabic on Edgware Road (in London) and Atlantic Ave (in Brooklyn); eaten Syrian comfort food in Buenos Aires (shout-out to Liliana Helueni) and celebrated Passover in New York with family from the U.S., Argentina, and Iraq.

If you take the time to listen to one (or both) of these conversations, please let me know your thoughts! I’m always eager to read your letters.

With thanks, and all best wishes,

Jordan

P.S. Not to bury good news, but I am still wrapping my head around the fact that Stranger in the Desert has been named a finalist for the Sami Rohr Prize for Jewish Literature! I am over the moon and endlessly grateful. Check out the announcement and the other amazing finalists, here: https://www.kirkusreviews.com/news-and-features/articles/finalists-for-2026-sami-rohr-prize-revealed/