Read: mid-Feburary- April 2009
When I started reading some of the translated Arabic Literature here I soon realised that I wanted to try and read the famous Cairo Trilogy by Naguib Mahfouz. Talking to any Egyptian they see him as a hero of Arabic literature and although this trilogy is particularly famous and well regarded he has a whole body of work (that takes up a whole shelf in the school library!). This book is a biggie (500 pages) and I read many other shorter books whilst I had it "on the go", which is why it took me so long to read. But as I got to know the characters I really enjoyed it and have already taken out Palace of Desire the second book in the Trilogy to start this weekend.
The book follows a family living in downtown Cairo at the end of World War 1 and the English occupation (the trilogy continues the story into the 1950's). I found the language of the text and their speech to be very formal and very reverend, which indicated to me that they were a learned family. Talking to a colleague though she said that they represent an Upper Middle class family. They couldn't be an Upper Class family, because they didn't have any international links or schooling (the sons go to a local school and the father own a local shop). Apparently the Upper Class at that time would have travelled abroad, or have links with other nationals. They are definitely an Upper-Middle Class family though because of the father's status with his shop.
The tale of the family of the family of five is forever encompassed by their devotion and reference to God, Allah. This is seen in their activities, routine, practices and language. I found some of the conversations to be very stilted by this language, but also their nature meant that emotion was often lacking in their choice of words.
I found that the novel does give a very detailed and particular insight into life at this time. The routine of Amina (sometimes, very formally, referred to as "The mother") waking at dawn to help the maid to prepare bread for the oven. The Coffee Hours that turn from simple drinking, to socialising, playful and touching scenes that the young boys, sisters and mother look forward to each day and lament the loss of as they age.
All of the five children (two girls and three boys) age differently in the few years that the book spans. Kamel loves being the youngest and yearns daily for this mother's affection. When his mother can no longer give him this attention it coincides with the British occupying the street on which they live, so Kamel turns to entertaining the British soldiers on his way home from school. Kamal is written as a young, cheeky boy who has an innocence to most of what is going on around him. Both girls long for marriage, but Aisha does more so than her younger sister. Her attractiveness leads her to desire something more than the confines of their house, with its wooden screened windows. Their devotion to God and the rules of the house are clear, as is their bending of them, and Ahmed Al Sayed nearly discovers that Aisha has been courting a suitor from behind the modesty screen. I found it touching the way that her marriage affected the rest of the family. Kamal in particular sorely missed his sister when she left to live with her husband, and when Yasin's new wife moves in she is no substitute.
At odds with the religious observance in conversation and in daily life in the household - such as Amina, the mother, always preparing her husbands clothes for him when he rouses - is the father's behaviour outside the family circle. It could be seen as reassuring that even the strictest, most devout of men have vices, but soon I came to feel that it was more than a vice. It becomes more a lifestyle, life choice that Ahemd makes and keeps from the rest of his family. I, personally, didn't like the idea of having, needing, something so separate from the rest of his family. Especially whilst the women in the family where not allowed to leave the house so as to avoid the evil eye and being looked upon by any men. However, Ahemd does make and pursue this choice, and I feel he gets his just deserts when he finds his son Yasin may be taking after him. It brings a sense of realism to the story, a sense of understanding that this family is very much a real family, for the right and wrong reasons.
One really touching scene is when Yasin is called to his mother's house as she is on her deathbed. Despite Yasin's misdemeanours as he has grown up into a young man, he turns into the model son again. You can feel both his regret, and that of his mothers at the news of his divorce after less than a year of marriage. I am interested to see whether this changes Yasin's attitude at all in the subsequent books.
A vivid scene is when Ahmed confront his second eldest, and most academic son, Fahmy about his rumoured involvement in the Movement. It isn't just Ahmed's standing that would make him reluctant to have a son involved in the Nationalism Movement, but anyone would naturally be weary at a time of high tensions to put themselves in a dangerous position. So I wasn't surprised when Ahmed confronted his son, but, taking after his father, Fahmy manages to wriggle his way away from the truth of the matter and almost gets away with it. The father raises the stakes when he asks Fahmy to swear on the Koran, and this in fact causes Fahmy to flee the room rather than swear on something he couldn't keep. Prior to this scene I had wondered whether the family was as devoted as their spoken language suggested, but this scene proved how seriously Fahmy and his father take their beliefs.
I may feel differently after finishing the rest of the trilogy, but for me this book was very long and didn't have a finite ending point. There were many climaxes which could have heralded the end of this Chapter in their lives. However, the ending itself may seem more significant as I read the final two books.
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