Even if you’ve never read a book by Egyptian writer and Nobel Laureate Naguib Mahfouz, his powerful words have likely found their way to your ear, probably without you even realizing.
One quote that continues to ripple across the internet is, “Home is not where you are born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease.” Shared in countless designs and styles, its truth has found a home of its own online, resonating with hearts around the world.
One of the ways Mahfouz’s work continues to echo through the modern world, especially with younger generations, is through the evolving artistry of his book covers. Over the years, various artists have reimagined his stories visually, each design reflecting the spirit of its time.
In our era in the 2020s, that torch has been carried by award-winning Egyptian illustrator Nesma Moharam, who began reinterpreting Mahfouz’s novels in collaboration with Diwan Publishing in 2023.
Her work brought a new visual language to his collection, which include fourteen stories that trace the eternal dance between life and death. Much like Mahfouz’s writing, Moharam’s artwork draws us into 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 through the unseen. Her illustrations lead us inward, back to the heart, stirring feelings we may have long forgotten.
This project is just one among many in Moharam’s growing portfolio. Over the years, she has lent her distinctive touch to collaborations with some of the world’s most iconic brands and publishers, including Adidas, The New Yorker, The Folio Society, ProPublica, and many others.
Though he hails from a different time, Mahfouz’s spirit still lingers like the Great Sphinx, eternal and unshaken, etched into the memory of Egyptians and Arabs alike. He is, after all, proudly remembered as the father of the Arabic novel.
Below, Egyptian Streets spoke with Nesma Moharam to delve deeper into her journey of illustrating the works of Naguib Mahfouz.
Do you remember the moment you found out you’d be collaborating with Diwan on the Naguib Mahfouz project? What was that day like for you, and how did it feel to get the news?
I remember it clearly. I had just finished a long day of work when I got a call from Yousef Sabry, the project’s creative director. He told me they wanted me to design four book covers for the Naguib Mahfouz series. It was a very welcome surprise. I felt genuinely honored because Mahfouz has had such a profound impact on Arabic literature, and I was eager to start thinking about how to bring his world into the visuals.
Were there any early ideas you had for the project that didn’t quite make the cut? How did you start shaping the creative direction overall?
At the beginning, I roughed out a few different concepts for each cover. There weren’t any ideas that were completely cut; it was more about refining and choosing the direction that felt truest to the spirit of the work. I spent time reading the novels closely. Mahfouz’s writing blends depth, realism, and mystery in such a distinct way.
Early sketches leaned more literal, focusing on scenes and characters, but it became clear that a more symbolic and atmospheric approach would resonate more deeply. I focused on evoking the emotional undercurrents of the stories rather than illustrating specific events, while staying rooted in Egyptian settings and visual elements.
Mahfouz’s work is deeply rooted in Cairo and Egyptian culture. How did you bring that spirit into your design approach?
Cairo in Mahfouz’s work isn’t just a setting; it feels alive, almost like a character itself. I wanted the illustrations to reflect that spirit. I tried to weave in familiar parts of Egyptian life, such as old architecture, the rhythm of the streets, the feeling of the neighborhoods, and traditional attire, but seen through a slightly dreamlike lens to mirror the emotional depth of his stories.
Your covers feel fresh and modern. How did you strike that balance between honoring Mahfouz’s legacy while also making 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 much alive, and I wanted the visuals to carry that same feeling, preserving the depth and spirit but speaking in a language closer to a new generation. I leaned into cinematic 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 gazes into a dark room, hinting at a lone figure hidden inside and creating a surreal pull anchored by a familiar Egyptian setting. In Al Hob Fawq Hadabat Al Haram (Love over the Pyramid Plateau, 2024), enormous legs tower over tiny figures and the steps of the pyramids, a play on scale that draws the viewer in, especially in a place where nothing should feel larger than the pyramids themselves. And in Al Shaytan Yaez (Evil Preaches, 2024), a massive statue-like figure stands surrounded by followers, with a serpent winding around them, blending the surreal 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 a few personal favorites from the book covers you designed? What makes them stand out to you?
It’s hard to choose, but a few stayed with me. Al Hob Fawq Hadabat Al Haram, (Love over the Pyramid Plateau, 2024) stands out for the way it plays with scale, making human figures feel even larger than the pyramids themselves and creating a sense of wonder and quiet absurdity. Ahlam Fatrat Al Naqaha (Dreams of Departure 2024) also feels personal. The bird gazing into the room, the solitary figure who isn’t even visible, captures a loneliness and reflection I hoped would linger with the viewer. Both covers, in different ways, balance between realism and dream, which became a thread across the whole series.
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