We Hunt the Flame

Although We Hunt the Flame takes place in a fictional setting, the novel is directly inspired by ancient Middle Eastern culture, history, and geography, drawing on Hafsah Faizal’s Sri Lankan and Arab heritage. Faizal makes use of cultural signifiers such as names, objects, and practices—among other narrative elements—to create a world inspired by Middle Eastern folklore. As a result, she departs from the prominent Western European framing of contemporary American fantasy and offers an often underrepresented culture within the genre.

The characters’ names, nicknames, and titles are all traditionally Middle Eastern, and their meanings characterize the protagonists. Zafira means “successful”; Nasir means “helper”; Altair means “eagle”; Benyamin means “son of the right hand”; and Kifah means “fight.” The characters’ last names also follow traditional Arabic structure, such as Zafira bint Iskandar (or “daughter of Iskandar”).

The novel’s political hierarchies echo ancient Middle Eastern titles, with the Sultan overseeing five caliphates. References to the Middle East are also made in the geography and customs of Arawiya. When Nasir visits the caliphate of Sarasin, he walks through the sooq, where “[gusts] of desert air carried the musky odor of hot sands” (12) and vendors sell “bolts of fabric in bright colors [...]; spices in enough hues to paint papyrus; carved stone platters with [intricate] designs” (15)—all reminiscent of ancient Middle Eastern goods.

As for the characters’ appearances, they are described as having physical attributes that evoke Middle Eastern peoples: Zafira has fair skin, blue eyes, and dark hair; Nasir and Altair have olive skin and beards; and Kifah has darker skin. The men wear turbans, and various characters are mentioned to be wearing sirwals (loose-fitting pants), qamis (long tunics), and keffiyahs (head scarves), while their weapons of choice are jambiyas (a type of dagger) and scimitars (curved swords). There are also other elements associated with Middle Eastern cultures and referred to by their Arabic names in the story: This includes food and drinks, household objects, animals, and magical creatures inspired by Middle Eastern folklore, such as the ifrit (from Islamic mythology) and the kaftar (from Persian mythology).

Significantly, Faizal frames Arawiyan geography and customs from a mundane perspective, rather than through othering. When she introduces an Arabic word, such as when the characters drink “[qahwa in] traditional majlis seating, with cushions spread out across the floor for private negotiations or more intimate happenings” (19), she doesn’t offer English translations. She also doesn’t italicize these words, preferring to integrate them seamlessly into the story to emphasize how integral this vocabulary is to the characters’ everyday lives. The narration relies on the reader’s assumed knowledge and contextual inferences, which not only contributes to effective worldbuilding but also centers its fictionalized Middle Eastern perspective. By grounding her narrative in an existing culture and mythology, Faizal adds credibility to her fantasy world and integrates her own experiences to develop the theme of Cultural Legacy and Identity.