her even more firmly in his soul, embed her in his life, and fix her in
his memories. Images penetrate more deeply into us when they are
associated with the different places we know from our experiences.
Previously Maryam was associated with the roof of his house, the
arbor of hyacinth beans and iasmine, Kamal, listening to his English
lesson, the coffee hour, and talking to his mother in the study, and
the message Kamal brought back from her. Henceforth she would be
associated with Sugar Street, the courtyard of the Shawkat residence,
the evening's musical entertainment, the singing of Sabir, Aisha's
wedding procession, and everything else that was crowding in
through his senses. Such a transformation could not occur without
adding to the violent shock that had stunned him.
During one of Sabir's intermissions, the voice of the female vocalist
happened to carry through the windows overlooking the courtyard
so the men could hear her. She was singing "My lover's departed."
Fahmy set about listening eagerly and with enormous interest. He
PALACE WALK
concentrated all of his attention on absorbing the music, not because
he particularly liked Jalila's voice, but because he thought Maryam
would be listening to her at that moment. The lyrics would be speaking
to both of them at the same time. Jalila united the two of them
in a single experience of listening and possibly of feeling. She had
created an occasion for their spirits to meet. All of these considerations
made him revere her voice and love her song. He wished to
share this one sensation with Maryam. He tried for a long time to
get through to her soul by retreating deep into himself. He sought to
contact the vibrations of her reactions by following his own. Notwithstanding
the distance and the thick walls separating them, he
wished to live for a few moments inside her essence. To accomplish
this, he attempted to determine from the lyrics the effect they would
have on his beloved's soul. What would her response be to "My
lover's departed" or "It's a long time since he sent me a letter"? Had
she been lost in a sea of memories? Had not at least one of those
waves slipped away to reveal his face? Had not her heart felt a stabbing
pain or a piercing grief?. Or was she in such a daze throughout
that she saw nothing in the song but enjoyable music?
Fahmy imagined her listening attentively to the music, free of her
veil, parading her vitality, or her mouth parted in a smile like the one
he had glimpsed when she arrived, which had upset him since he had
inferred from it that she had forgotten him. She might be talking to
one of his sisters as she frequently enjoyed doing. He envied his
sisters that privilege, which would daze him to the point of panic,
whereas they regarded it as an ordinary conversation like any they
conducted with girls in the neighborhood Indeed, he had frequently
been amazed by his sisters' attitude toward her, not because they took
an interest in her, for they did love her, but because they loved her
exactly the same way they did the other girls in the neighborhood,
as though she was just some girl. How could they greet her without
getting flustered and do it in an ordinary manner, the way he greeted
any passing girl or his fellow law students? How could they talk
about her and say, "Maryam said this" or "Maryam did that" and
pronounce the name like any other one, Umm Hanafi, for example?
Hers was a name he had only pronounced once or twice in someone
else's presence. Then be had been amazed by its impact on him.
When he was alone, he would only repeat her name as though it
were one of the venerable names of Muslim saints engraved in his
imagination along with the ornamentation provided by legends.
These were names he would not pronounce without immediately
Naguib MaAfou{
adding one of the appropriate religious formulas: "May God be
pleased with him" or "Peace on him." How could he explain that not
merely the name but even Maryam herself lacked any magic or sanctity
for his sisters?
When Jalila finished singing, there were shouts of appreciation and
applause. Fahmy concentrated on that with even greater interest than
he had given the song, since Maryam's voice and hands were participating.
He wished it was possible for him to make out her voice
among all the others and to isolate her clapping from all the rest, but
that was no easier than distinguishing the sound of one wave from
the roar of all those beating against the shore. So he responded lovingly
to the cries of applause and the clapping without distinction, as
a mother prays for blessings and peace collectively when she hears
the voices of pupils from a school her son attends.
Although their reasons differed, no one so resembled Fahmy in his
inner isolation as his father, who did not leave the chamber where he
was surrounded by some of his very best friends. Some companions
had not been able to endure the sober atmosphere in there when
music was resounding outside. They had broken away from his circle
to scatter among the listeners where they could enjoy the music and
have a good time. The only people left with al-Sayyid Ahmad were
those who loved his company even more than having a good time.
They all observed an unaccustomed solemnity as though performing
a duty or attending a funeral. These old friends had understood in
advance it would be like this when he had invited them to the wedding.
They knew from experience that there were two sides to his
character. One was reserved for his friends and the other was for his
family. There was a paradoxical contradiction between this somber
behavior with which they were celebrating a wedding and their boisterous
nightly reunions when they had nothing to celebrate. They did
not hesitate to joke about their dignified conduct, but in a calm and
delicate manner. When Mr. Iffat's voice was raised in laughter once,
Mr. al-Far put his finger to his lips as though warning him to lower
his voice. He whispered in his ear to caution and scold him: "We're
at a wedding, man."
Another time, when they had been silent for a while, Mr. All
looked around at their faces and, raising his hand to his head, congratulated
them: "May God thank you for your effort."
At that, al-Sayyid Ahmad asked them to join their other friends
outside and have fun, but Mr. Iffat told him in a critical tone of voice,
PALACE WALK 263
"Should we leave you alone on a night like this? Do you know who
your friends are until you're in need?"
AI-Sayyid Ahmad could not keep from laughing. He commented,
"It will only take a few more wedding nights before God forgives all
of US."
A wedding had other ramifications beyond mandatory solemnity at
a party devoted to merrymaking and music. There were implications
for him in particular as a father with an unusual temperament. He
had ambivalent feelings about his daughter's marriage. He was not
comfortable about it, even though reason and religion did not support
his position. It was not that he did not wish for his two daughters to
marry. Like all other fathers, he wished to protect his daughters, but
would have preferred that marriage was not the only way to provide
this protection. He may even have wished that God had created girls
in a manner that made marriage unnecessary or that he had never
had any daughters. Since his wishes had not been and could not be
fulfilled, he was forced to hope his daughters would marry, like a
man who longs for an honorable or painless death, since he knows
life cannot last forever.
AI-Sayyid Ahmad had often expressed his reluctance in many different
ways, both conscious and unconscious. He would tell some of
his loyal friends, "You ask me about fathering females? It's an evil
against which we are defenseless, but let us thank God. In any case,
it's a duty. This is not to say that I don't love my daughters. In fact,
I love them as much as I do Yasin, Fahmy, and Kamal, each equally..
But how can my mind be at rest when I know that I will carry them
to a stranger one day. However attractive he may seem on the outside,
only God knows what's inside him. What can a weak girl do
when she's faced by a strange man far from the supervision of her
father? What will her fate be if her husband divorces her one day,
after her father has died? She must take refuge in her brother's house
to endure a life of neglect. I'm not afraid for any of my sons. No
matter what happens to one of them, he's a man and is able to confront
life. But a girl... my God, preserve us."
He might say with apparent candor, "A girl is really a problem....
Don't you see that we spare no effort to discipline, train, preserve,
and care for her? But don't you also see that after all of this we
ourselves hand her over to a stranger and let him do as he wishes
with her? Praise to God who alone is praised for adversity."
AI-Sayyid Ahmad's anxious and ambivalent feelings found expres
Nagui8 Mfou
sion in the critical attitude he adopted toward Khalil Shawkat, the
bridegroom. It was a harsh, faultfinding attitude that kept searching
to discover some defect to satisfy its obstinacy. Khalil seemed not to
count as a member of the Shawkat family, which had been bound to
his own family by ties of affection and friendship for more than a
generation. He seemed not to be the young man whose manliness,
good looks, and honor were attested to by everyone who knew him.
AI-Sayyid Ahmad was not able to deny the boy's good qualities but
hesitated for a long time over his full face and the calm, heavy look
of his eyes that seemed indicative of laziness. He was pleased to infer
from these signs that he was sluggish. The gentleman told himself,
"He's nothing but a bull, living only to eat and sleep." His recognition
of the young man's good qualities followed by his search for
any defect was an emotional dialectic reflecting al-Sayyid Ahmad's
latent emotions. He both desired the girl to get married and detested
the idea of marriage. His acknowledgment of Khalil's qualities had
made it possible for the marriage to take place. His search for Khalil's
defects helped relieve his hostilities toward the marriage. He was like
an opium addict, enslaved by its pleasures and terrified by its danger,
searching for it by any means, while cursing it. For the moment, al
Sayyid Ahmad ignored his ambivalent feelings. He was surrounded
by his best friends and consoled himself alternately with conversing
and listening to the distant music. He allowed contentment and joy a
place in his heart and prayed that his daughter would be happy and
lead a tranquil life. Even his critical attitude toward Khalil Shawkat
was reduced to a scornful feeling free of any rancor.
When the guests were invited to the dinner tables, Fahmy and
Yasin were separated for the first time. Khalii Shawkat conducted the
latter to a special table where wine was in ample supply. Conscious
of the possible consequences, Yasin was cautious at first. He announced
that two glasses were enough for him. He resisted with
courage (or was it cowardice?) the freely flowing wine, until he
reached the first stage of intoxication. Then his memories of the pleasures
of drunkenness were stirred, and his willpower weakened. He
wanted to get more intoxicated without exceeding the limits of safety.
He had a third glass and fled from the table, although he took the
precaution of hiding a half-filled bottle in a secret place so he could
retrieve it if there was a pressing need. He kept one eye on paradise,
while the other was peering down at hell. The young men returned to their seats with vibrant new spirits that imparted to the atmosphere
a delight freed from restrictions.
PALACE WALK 26
In the women's quarters, intoxication had gained firm control over
he performer Jalila. She started looking around at the faces of" the
women in the audience, asking, "Which of you is the wife of al
Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad?"
Her question attracted their attention and aroused everyone's interest.
Amina was too shy to utter a word. She began to stare at the
entertainer's face with anxiety and disapproval. When the pedormer
repeated the question, Widow Shawkat pointed to Amina and volunteered,
"There she is. Why do you ask?"
The performer examined her with piercing eyes. Then she let out
a resounding laugh and said with satisfaction, "A beauty, by the truth
of God's house. AI-Sayyid Ahmad's taste is unbeatable."
Amina was so embarrassed she was like a tongue-tied virgin. Embarrassment
was not her only emotion. She asked herself with anxiety
and alarm what the implications were of the entertainer's question
about al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad's wife and of her praise for his
taste. She had spoken in a tone that only a person who knew him
well would adopt. Aisha and Khadija felt the same way. Khadija
glanced back and forth from some of her friends to the performer, as
though asking them what they thought of this tipsy woman. Jalila
paid no attention to the panic her words had provoked. She turned
her eyes to the bride and examined her as she had the mother pre'viously.
Then she wriggled her eyebrows and declared admiringly,
"As beautiful as the moon, by the Messenger of God! You're really
your father's daughter. Anyone seeing those eyes would immediately
remember his." She laughed boisterously before continuing: "I see
you are all wondering how this woman knows al-Sayyid Ahmad....
I knew him before his wife herself did. He was a neighbor and childhood
playmate. Our fathers were friends. Do you think a performer
doesn't have a father? My father was head of a Qur'anic primary
school and a blessed man. What do you think about that, you
beauty?"
She directed this question to Amina, whose fear, natural indulgence,
and good humor prompted her to answer, as she struggled
with her embarrassed confusion, "May God have mercy on him.
We're all children of Eve and Adam."
Narrowing her eyes, Jalila began to rock her head left and fight.
Her memories and expressions of piety seemed to have made a great
impact on her, or perhaps her drunken head enjoyed this routine. She
began speaking again: "He was a man with a jealous sense of honor.
But I grew up with a natural tendency to be playful, as though I had
Naguib Mahfou
been suckled on coquetry in the cradle. When I laughed on the top
floor of our house, the hearts of men in the street would be troubled.
The moment he heard my voice, he would rain blows upon me and
call me the worst names. But what point was there in trying to discipline
a girl who was so gifted in the arts of love, music, and flirtation?
His attempts were in vain. My father went to paradise and its
delights while I was fated to adopt the epithets he hurled at me as
my banner in life. That's the way the world is.... May our Lord
nourish you with the good things in life and spare you the evil....
May God never deprive us of men, whether through marriage or
affairs."
Laughter rang out from all sides of the rooha. It drowned the
shocked exclamations of some women here and there. The reaction
was perhaps primarily caused by the apparent contradiction between
the final, licentious prayer and the expressions preceding it which at
least outwardly seemed serious and regretful. The woman had
cloaked her expressions with a serious and dignified veil, before finally
revealing her joke. Even Amina, uneasy though she was, could
not keep from smiling, although she bowed her head so no one would
see. At a party like this, women were able to entertain the drunken
iokes of the performers and respond to their humor, although the
limits of decency were occasionally surpassed. They seemed to enjoy
a break from their normal primness.
The intoxicated entertainer continued her discourse: "My father,
may God make paradise his final abode, had good intentions. For
example, he brought me a fine man like himself one day and wanted
to marry him to me." She roared with laughter. "What kind of marriage
would that have been, my dear? What was left for a husband
after what had already happened? I told myself, 'Jalila, you'll be disgraced.
You've fallen into a tar pit.'"
She paused for a time to whet their appetite or to enjoy the attention
focused on her, which was even greater than when she was
singing. Then she went on: "But God was gracious. I was saved a
few days before the anticipated disaster. I ran off with the late Has
suna al-Baghl, a drug dealer. He had a brother who played the lute
for the entertainer Nayzak. He taught me how to play it. Since he
liked my voice he also taught me how to sing. He coached me until
I got into Nayzak's troupe. When she died, I took her place. I've
been singing for ages and have had a hundred lovers, plus.... "
She frowned as she tried to remember how many more than a
PALACE WALK
hundred there had been. Then she turned to ask her tambourine
player, "How many, Fino?"
The musician quickly responded, "Plus five--|ike the five fingers
of the Prophet's granddaughter Fatima held up to ward off the evil
of infidels."
Laughter resounded once more. Some of the women most fascinated
by the performer's account attempted to silence the laughing
ladies so she would resume speaking, but she rose suddenly and
headed for the door. She paid no attention to the women asking her
where she was going. Although they received no answer, no one
pressed her, because she was notorious for her outbursts, which she
made no effort whatsoever to resist.
Jalila descended the staircase to the door of the women's quarters
and stepped into the courtyard. When her sudden appearance attracted
the attention of nearby eyes, she paused to allow everyone to
see her. She wanted to enjoy the interest that the sight of her would
arouse in them and use it to challenge Sabir, who had worked his
audience to a peak of enthusiasm. Her wish was granted. The contagion
of turning to look at her spread as quickly as a yawn from
one man to the next. Her name was repeated by every tongue. Although
Sabir was carried away by his own singing, he too noticed
the sudden rift between him and his audience. He turned to see what
was attracting everyone's attention and his eyes came to rest on the
chanteuse, who was gazing at him from afar with her head tilted back
in a mixture of intoxication and pride. Sabir was compelled to stop
singing and motioned to his musicians to cease playing; He raised his
hands to his head to greet her. He knew about her outbursts and,
unlike most people, also knew how kindhearted she was. Taking into
consideration the dangers of antagonizing her, he displayed unreserved
affection for her. His ruse succeeded, and the woman's face
shone with delight. She called out to him, "Continue singing, Sabir.
That's what I've come to hear."
The guests applauded and jubilantly returned to Sabir. Then Ibra
him Shawkat, the bridegroom's elder brother, approached her and
asked politely what she needed. His question reminded her of the
real reason she had come. She asked him in a voice that carried to
many of the men present and most importantly to Yasin and Fahmy, "Why don't I see al:Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad? Where has the
man hidden himself?."
Ibrahim Shawkat took her arm and smilingly escorted her to the
Naguib Mahfou
reception room. Meanwhile Fahmy and Yasin exchanged an astonished
and incredulous glance. Their eyes followed lhrahim and the
entertainer until they disappeared behind the door.
A1-Sayyid Abroad was no less astonished than his sons to see her
strutting toward him. He stared questioningly at her in alarm, while
his companions exchanged smiling, knowing looks.
Jalila looked everyone over quickly and said, "A fine evening to
you, gentlemen."
She focused her eyes on al-Sayyid Abroad. She could not keep
herself from laughing heartily. Then she asked sarcastically, "Has my
visit frightened you, al-Sayyid Abroad?"
He gestured to caution her about the people outside. Fie replied
seriously, "Restrain yourself, ]alila. What has motivated you to visit
me here under the eyes of all the people?"
Although her sarcastic smile never left her, she replied apologetically,
"I would have hated to miss congratulating you on the marriage
of your daughter."
AI-Sayyid Abroad responded uneasily, "Thank you, lady, but didn't
you think about the suspicions your visit might arouse in the minds
of those who saw you?"
Jalila clapped her hands together and said almost as a reprimand,
"Is this the best welcome you have for me?" Then she addressed his
companions: "Gentlemen, you're my witnesses. Observe how this
man, who used to be unhappy if he couldn't stick the tip of his
mustache in my belly button, can't bear the sight of me."
AI-Sayyid Ahmad gestured to her as if to say, "Don't make the
mud any wetter." He entreated her, "God knows I'm nor unhappy to
see you. The only problem is, you see, the awkward situation.... "
At this point, Mr. All tried to remind her of something she should
not forget: "You lived together as lovers and parted friends. There's
nothing to be revenged. But the women of his family are upstairs
and his sons are outside."
Continuing to try to infuriate al-Sayyid Abroad, Jalila asked, "Why
do you pretend to be pious around your family when you're a pool
of depravity?"
He threw her a look of protest and said, "Jalila!... There's no
might or power except with God."
"Jali[a or Zubayda, you saint?"
"I rely on God and the blessings of his deputy the Prophet.... "
She wriggled her eyebrows at him as she had in honor of Aisha
before him, but this time it was sarcastic and not a sign of admiration.
:|
I
PALACE WALK 269
In a calm voice as serious as a iudge's in pronouncing a verdict, she
said, "It's all the same to me whether you're Zubayda's lover or some
other woman's, but by the head of my mother it troubles me to see
you roll in the dirt after being up to your ears in cream here." She
pointed to herself.
Mr. Muhammad Iffat, who was the closest to her, rose at that point.
He was afraid her intoxication would lead her to do something with unfortunate consequences. He took her hand and gently pulled her
toward the door as he whispered in her ear, "I adiure you by al
Husayn to return to your audience, who are waiting impatiently for you."
After some resistance, she obeyed him, but as she slowly moved
of she turned toward al-Sayyid Ahmad to say, "Don't forget to give
my greetings to the filthy bitch, and I'll give you some sisterly advice.
Wash yourself off with alcohol after you've been with her, otherwise
her sweat will affect your blood."
AI-Sayyid Ahmad saw her off with a furious look. He was cursing
his luck which had decreed for him to be disgraced before the eyes
of many, including his family, who knew him as a shining example
of earnestness and dignity. Well, there was still hope that not everyone
in his family had heard about the incident, but it was only a
feeble one. There was also a chance that in their innocence they
would not really understand if they did hear about it, although that
possibility was hardly guaranteed, and for more than one reason.
Even assuming the worst, there was no reason for him to be
alarmed. Their subservience to him and his domination over them
both assured that no convulsion would shake them, not even this
scandal. Moreover, he had never assumed it was out of the question
that one of his sons, or even the whole family, might discover the
truth about him, but he had not been overly worried about that,
because of his confidence in his power and because in rearing them
he had not relied on either setting an example or persuasion. There
was no need to fear that they would swerve off the high road if they
discovered he had. He thought it unlikely they would learn anything
about him before they came of age, when he would not care much
whether they did uncover his secret. Yet none of this could lighten
his regret at what had happened, although the event had also pleased
and flattered his pride in his sexual appeal. For a woman like Jalila
to seek him out to greet him, tease him, or even to make fun of his
new sweetheart was a real event that would have a great impact on
the circles where he passed his nights. It was an occurrence with far
Naguib Mahfou
reaching significance for a man like him who enjoyed nothing so
much as love, music, and companionship. But how much purer his
happiness would have been if the beautiful event had taken place at
a distance from this family atmosphere.
Yasin and Fahmy had not turned their eyes away from the door
to the reception room from the moment Jalila disappeared through it
till she emerged again, escorted by Mr. Muhammad Iffat. Fahmy was
so astonished his head spun like Yasin's when he had heard Zanuba
reply, "He's from our district. You must have heard of him... alSayyid
Ahmad Abd al-Jawad.... " Now Yasin was overcome by a
voracious curiosity. With a happiness that awakened in his heart a
frenzy of the same admiration and feeling of affinity for his father
that he had felt in Zanuba's room, he realized that Jalila was another
adventure in his father's life, which Yasin had begun to picture as a
golden chain of romantic escapades. The man surpassed everything
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