This paper offers a critical and theoretical reflection on the translation of Arabic graphic literature into English. Taking as a case study my translation of the recent illustrated Arabic novel "Limbo Beirut" by Lebanese writer Hilal Chouman (b. 1982), the paper considers the translation of a work with a visual as well as a textual element as a process that engages the translator in uniquely material, imaginative, and affective ways. Each of the five chapters in Chouman’s novel contains approximately fifteen black-and-white drawings by contemporary Arab artists, ranging from the fanciful to the frankly disturbing in their visualizations of the novel’s characters and scenes amid the urban landscapes of post-war millennial Beirut. These illustrations demand the attention of the reader, and I suggest, elicit from him or her a complex repertoire of physical and sensorial responses as s/he moves through the text that add to those evoked by Chouman’s prose. Yet for the translator charged only with rendering the novel from Arabic into English, the illustrations are, as extra-linguistic elements, seemingly in excess of or other-than that which must be translated. They comprise a non-textual, untranslatable mass alongside the written Arabic text, a supplement to it in a different medium. Apprehended non-verbally, I suggest, they cannot be narrated in words but must be conveyed otherwise through the same “vocabulary” of senses and affects in which they were experienced. This paper thus explores how the non-textual, graphic dimension of a work like "Limbo Beirut" interpenetrates and informs the translation of its textual dimension through the medium of the translator’s feeling body. How do her sensory responses to the illustrations carry over into her translation, through and in addition to the words she produces? What new avenues of inquiry emerge from considering reading, writing, drawing, and translating not only as acts of the conscious mind but also of the non-conscious body? If each illustration bears traces of the labor of the artist’s own body — pen-strokes, handwritten words, ink thick on the page — how might these be materially experienced and re-embodied by the translator in her work? In addition to suggesting new ways of thinking about translation, such questions have implications for understanding how Arabic graphic literature circulates in English translation as a cultural and aesthetic object.