Set in the aftermath of the 1492 Castilian reconquest of Andalusia, Radwa Ashour’s Granada Trilogy follows the working-class al-Warraq family as they struggle to survive the increasingly draconian papal state’s measures to dispossess them of their cultural heritage. The forced conversion of all Muslims to Catholic Christianity and the banning of Arabic, among other policies, inaugurates a veritable crisis of interpretation which prompts the Trilogy’s protagonists to question the guidance of their illicit faith as they fail to make sense of the signs of life. This coercive symbolic disorder is expressed throughout the Trilogy as a dissonance between the visceral unfolding of profane events and some immanent but imperceptible divine design. Following Fredric Jameson’s writing on allegory, it should come as no surprise that this sudden unraveling of metanarratorial power coincides with the Castilian occupation and the discovery of the so-called “New World.” Ashour’s Trilogy associates the reassertion of White-Christian hegemony in Europe with the colonization of the Americas and the genesis of the capitalist world system in such a way that Andalusia appears as a kind of laboratory of settler colonialism across the Atlantic. At the center of this symbolic upheaval, linking these theaters and timelines of dispossessive violence, stands the figure of the orphan. The trope of rahil—of setting out, departure, exodus, or even death—is central to Ashour’s bid to construct new world-framing narratives capable of placing the expulsion of Europe’s Arab-Muslim population in dialogue with the settler colonization of the Americas and the undeterred violence of contemporary American empire. I will argue that Ashour casts the orphan as a itinerant figure whose very psycho-spatial unmooring positions him or her well to perform acts of allegorical recovery akin to what Jameson calls “cognitive mapping,” i.e., “some as yet unimaginable new mode of representing [global capitalism], in which we may again begin to grasp our positioning as individual and collective subjects and regain a capacity to act and struggle...” In the process, Ashour elaborates a vision of South-South solidarity and historical translatability oriented toward the continual renarration of histories of civilizational violence as past instances of dispossession find allegorical fulfillment in yet more setbacks. In this context, I will argue that Ashour’s Trilogy should be read as a novel form of late capitalist allegory in a post-Cold-War age where the contours of the Third World have bled out into what is today known as the global South.