The answer is simple yet difficult at the same time. For example, if we want to undergo open-heart surgery, it is safer to consult the best cardiologist. But, if we want to choose someone to accompany us on a trip or an evening out, we will not care whether they are a consultant on ‘fun’ or a specialist in the art of travel, we will most likely choose the one closest to our hearts and sensibilities. Even more wonderful is to find Abdulhussain Abdulredha and Ibrahim Al-Rashdan combined in one person.

My next article (for Friday) will be about the latter. I see in consultant dermatologist Dr. Khaled Montasser what I am looking for. He is a charming and elegant man, his smile not merely etched, but indelible on his face. He is an unparalleled speaker, a brilliant novelist, a fierce fighter, a serious researcher, and a liberal with vast knowledge. Dr. Montasser stopped practicing medicine, choosing instead to wield the pen rather than the scalpel or stethoscope, dedicating himself entirely to defending the security of his homeland and his family, upholding reason within his country, promoting love and peace, rejecting extremism, and combating the ideologies of extremist groups who demand that others parrot their words, read what they approve of, advise against reading, consume what they deem permissible, wear what they approve of, and follow them to paradise... even by force.

In a tweet by Mahmoud Radwan, critiquing Dr. Montasser’s latest novel, “The Time of Souad,” he describes it as a testament to the complex relationship between art, homeland and political transformations in modern Egypt. The novel does not portray Souad Hosny merely as an artist in the history of Egyptian cinema, but rather, through a keen narrative awareness, transforms her into a concentrated icon or symbol of the Egyptian State itself: its rise, its defeats, its alienation and its unfulfilled dreams.

Dr. Montasser weaves intricate, dramatic and psychological threads, linking the tragedy of Souad Hosny (the Cinderella) to the trajectory of the nation, so that the individual body becomes a mirror of the nation’s collective body. The personal biography becomes a key to understanding political and cultural transformations. Thus, the novel here is not simply a story about an Egyptian artist, but an anatomy of an entire era.

On screen, Souad was a source of laughter, joy and spectacle. Her smile was iconic and her presence was always accompanied by happiness. But behind the scenes, Souad Hosny suffered from profound psychological anguish, severe physical pain, and a crushing loneliness unseen by the public. Such was the condition of Egypt, which exported various forms of artistic and cultural delight, while at its core, it was grappling with political crises, defeats and deep intellectual fractures.

Her joy here is not genuine, but a defensive mask concealing her pain. Then came the rise and the fall, or the transition from enlightenment to regression. Souad Hosny, or rather Egypt, was once at the height of her brilliance, especially during the years of liberation, progress and diversity. Souad was a daughter of an era that dreamed, experimented, and took artistic and intellectual risks. But this rise did not last. With the decline of her health and mental state, Cinderella Souad withered, and so did Egypt. Beauty eroded as the attack of isolation paved the way for cultural desolation. The exploitation and plundering of Souad’s body, or rather the body of Egypt, culminated in the assassination of her body, both physically and spiritually, through silence, abandonment and defamation. Almost everyone participated in the crime. Did Souad Hosny commit suicide or was she murdered? The same question applies to Egypt.