In class, I briefly made a point about the use of language in Queen of the Desert (in which most of the dialogue is in English, with only certain buzzwords, names, and greetings in Arabic or relevant Middle Eastern languages) and the use of Arabic in made-up languages in fantastical films based off the Middle East, such as Dune. Where does one draw the line between accessibility, exoticization, and authenticity? When Herzog’s Iran is as much a fantasy as Director Villeneuve’s Arrakis, what lends one white-made artistic vision credibility and the other condemnation?
After a bit of sleuthing, I found a New Yorker article, ‘“Dune” and the Delicate Art of Making Fictional Languages’ (https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/dune-and-the-delicate-art-of-making-fictional-languages?_sp=7e36c459-8134-41bc-9eee-8d6d99565401.1760207334616), which ruminates adjacently on this topic. In Dune, Arabic is the “language of greatest influence…[where the fantasy language] uses at least eighty terms with clear Arabic origins, many of them tied to Islam.” Amongst these words are, most notably, istislah (“natural law”), ijaz (“prophecy”), and names, such as shai-hulud (“thing of eternity”) and mu’addib (teacher). Strikingly, the word jihad, while present in the books, is excluded purposefully in the films, as not to perpetuate modern negative associations. The reasoning for these inclusions is unique; of course, the filmmakers thought it apt to pay tribute to the Middle East, but they also reason that Dune takes place so far in the future the language must have evolved beyond recognition, just as how English has evolved dramatically since Beowolf. There are some other stand-out lines from the article; particularly, when addressing the white-washing of certain characters, scholar Khaldoun Kheli states that “Arabs can’t be heroes…we must be erased.”
These two films hold an interesting dichotomy; Queen of the Desert is a fantasy of a Middle Eastern past, while Dune is essentially a fantasy of a Middle Eastern future. With a shared inspiration, the similarities and differences are fascinating. Both films deal with the colonization of the Middle East (perhaps subconsciously suggesting, though this may be a bit of a long shot, that a place only becomes accessible and relevant after a white man has stepped into it). Herzog’s film seems obviously fetishistic, while Villeneuve executes with more taste and tact. Both films suffer from White Hero Syndrome: Timothee Chalamet plays the world’s legendary prophet Lisan al-Gaib, and Gertrude Bell is bestowed the title of Umm al-Mu’minin (wife of the prophet) by King Faisal (how interesting that these are both Islamic epithets of the highest honor, which the narrative and history has bestowed upon white characters).
This projects onto a greater point of Orientalism, which characterizes the East as essentially a colonial fantasy. There is quite a depressing argument to be made here, which is that in the past, present, and future, the Middle East is imprisoned within the exaggerated imaginations of white creators. However, that may be too reductionist of a generalization to make in such short a post, as camel races did exist, Gertrude Bell was in fact named Umm al-Mu’minin, and the argument about Beowulf does make quite a lot of sense. Rather, the key definer seems to be about framing, rather than content. However, I am unfortunately running out of space — hopefully a commentator can take it from here.
