Assouline unveils luxury book dedicated to Lebanese icon Zuhair Murad

Put together by fashion journalists Alexander Fury and Babeth Djian, the book features ethereal photographs of models posing in natural landscapes and against historical backdrops. (Supplied)
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Updated 09 October 2020
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Assouline unveils luxury book dedicated to Lebanese icon Zuhair Murad

DUBAI: Renowned for its luxury coffee table books, publisher Assouline has released its very first edition dedicated to Lebanese designer Zuhair Murad.

Known in the fashion industry and in Hollywood for his beaded, extravagant gowns, Murad announced the news on Instagram this week.

“We are pleased to announce the launch of our very first Zuhair Murad book published by @Assouline. The book encapsulates the realm of Zuhair Murad Couture over the past decade, displaying the meticulous craftsmanship, the fashion shows, the inspirations stemming from different cultures and eras, the iconic red-carpet moments and more. A big thank you to everyone involved in the creation of this masterpiece.”

Put together by fashion journalists Alexander Fury and Babeth Djian, the book features ethereal photographs of models posing in natural landscapes and against historical backdrops wearing a glittering array of Murad’s often-belted gowns.

“Each piece feels like a personal extension of myself and a display of dedication, talent and skill that fills my atelier,” Murad says in the book.


Decoding villains at an Emirates LitFest panel in Dubai

Updated 25 January 2026
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Decoding villains at an Emirates LitFest panel in Dubai

DUBAI: At this year’s Emirates Airline Festival of Literature in Dubai, a panel on Saturday titled “The Monster Next Door,” moderated by Shane McGinley, posed a question for the ages: Are villains born or made?

Novelists Annabel Kantaria, Louise Candlish and Ruth Ware, joined by a packed audience, dissected the craft of creating morally ambiguous characters alongside the social science that informs them. “A pure villain,” said Ware, “is chilling to construct … The remorselessness unsettles you — How do you build someone who cannot imagine another’s pain?”

Candlish described character-building as a gradual process of “layering over several edits” until a figure feels human. “You have to build the flesh on the bone or they will remain caricatures,” she added.

The debate moved quickly to the nature-versus-nurture debate. “Do you believe that people are born evil?” asked McGinley, prompting both laughter and loud sighs.

Candlish confessed a failed attempt to write a Tom Ripley–style antihero: “I spent the whole time coming up with reasons why my characters do this … It wasn’t really their fault,” she said, explaining that even when she tried to excise conscience, her character kept expressing “moral scruples” and second thoughts.

“You inevitably fold parts of yourself into your creations,” said Ware. “The spark that makes it come alive is often the little bit of you in there.”

Panelists likened character creation to Frankenstein work. “You take the irritating habit of that co‑worker, the weird couple you saw in a restaurant, bits of friends and enemies, and stitch them together,” said Ware.

But real-world perspective reframed the literary exercise in stark terms. Kantaria recounted teaching a prison writing class and quoting the facility director, who told her, “It’s not full of monsters. It’s normal people who made a bad decision.” She recalled being struck that many inmates were “one silly decision” away from the crimes that put them behind bars. “Any one of us could be one decision away from jail time,” she said.

The panelists also turned to scientific findings through the discussion. Ware cited infant studies showing babies prefer helpers to hinderers in puppet shows, suggesting “we are born with a natural propensity to be attracted to good.”

Candlish referenced twin studies and research on narrative: People who can form a coherent story about trauma often “have much better outcomes,” she explained.

“Both things will end up being super, super neat,” she said of genes and upbringing, before turning to the redemptive power of storytelling: “When we can make sense of what happened to us, we cope better.”

As the session closed, McGinley steered the panel away from tidy answers. Villainy, the authors agreed, is rarely the product of an immutable core; more often, it is assembled from ordinary impulses, missteps and circumstances. For writers like Kantaria, Candlish and Ware, the task is not to excuse cruelty but “to understand the fragile architecture that holds it together,” and to ask readers to inhabit uncomfortable but necessary perspectives.