neighbor women had asked to marry Aisha to her son. Their father
had refused to let the younger sister marry before the elder. She
asked, "Do you really want me to marry, or do you hope it will
leave the way clear for you to marry?"
Aisha answered with a laugh, "Both."
When they had finished breakfast, the mother said, "Aisha, you
the laundry today and Khadija will clean the house. Afterward meet
me in the oven room."
Amina divided the work between them right after breakfast. They
were content to be ruled by her, and Aisha would not question her
assignmem. Khadija would take the trouble to make a few comments,
either to show her worth or to start a quarrel. Thus she said, "I'll let
you clean the house if you think washing the clothes is too much.
But if you make a fuss over the washing so you can stay in the
bathroom till all the work in the kitchen is finished, that's an excuse
that can be rejected in advance."
Aisha ignored her remark and went off to the bath humming.
Khadija commented sarcastically, "Lucky for you that sound reverberates
in the bathroom like a phonograph speaker. So sing and let
the neighbors hear it."
Their mother left the room and went through the hall to the stairs.
She climbed to the roof to make her morning rounds there before
descending to the oven room. The bickering between her daughters
was nothing new to her. Over the course of time it had turned
a customary way of life when the father was not at home and no one '
could think of anything pleasant to say. She had tried to stop it by
using entreaty, humor, and tenderness. That was the only type
discipline she employed with her children. It fit her nature, which
could not stand anything stronger. She lacked the firmness that rearing
children occasionally requires. Perhaps she would have liked to
be firm but was not able to. Perhaps she had attempted to be firm
but had been overcome by her emotions and weakness. It seemed she
could not bear for the ties between her and her children to be anything
but love and affection. She let the father or his shadow, which
dominated the children from afar, straighten them out and lay down
the law. Thus their silly quarrel did not weaken her admiration for
her two girls or her satisfaction with them. Even Aisha, who was
insanely fond of singing and standing in front of the mirror, her
PALACE WALK 33
laziness notwithstanding, was no less skillful and organized than
Khadija.
Amina would have been justified in allowing herself long periods
of relaxation, but she was prevented by a natural tendency that was
almost a disease. She insisted on supervising everything in the house,
no matter how small. When the girls finished their work, she would
go around energetically inspecting the rooms, living areas, and halls,
with a broom in one hand and a feather duster in the other. She
searched the corners, walls, curtains, and all the furnishings to eliminate
an overlooked speck of dust, finding as much pleasure and satisfaction
in that as in removing a speck from her eye. She was by
nature such a perfectionist that she examined the clothes about to be
laundered. If she discovered a piece of clothing that was unusually
dirty, she would not spare the owner a gentle reminder of his duty,
whether it was Kamal, who was going on ten, or Yasin, who had
two clear and contradictory approaches to caring for himself. He was
excessively fastidious about his external appearance--his suit, fez,
shirt, necktie, and shoes--but shockingly neglectful of his underwear.
Naturally this comprehensive concern of hers did not exclude the
roof and the pigeons and chickens that inhabited it. In fact, the time
she spent on the roof was filled with love and delight from the opportunities
it presented for work, not to mention the joys of play and
merriment she found there. No wonder, for the roof was a new world
she had discovered. The big house had known nothing of it until she
joined the family. She had created it afresh through the force of her
spirit, back when the house retained the appearance it had always
had since being built ages before. It was her idea to have these cages
with the cooing pigeons put on some of the high walls. She had
arranged these wooden chicken coops where the hens clucked as they
foraged for food. How much joy she got from scattering grain for
them or putting the water container on the ground as the hens raced
for it, preceded by their rooster. Their beaks fell on the grain quickly
and regularly, like sewing-machine needles, leaving little indentations
in the dust like the pockmarks from a drizzle. How good she felt
when she saw them gazing at her with clear little eyes, inquisitive
and questioning, while they cackled and clucked with a shared affection
that filled her heart with tenderness.
She loved the chickens and pigeons as she loved all of God's creatures.
She made little noises to them, thinking they understood and
responded. Her imagination had bestowed conscious, intelligent life
Naguib Mahfou.
on all animals and occasionally even on inanimate objects. She
quite certain that these beings praised her Lord and were in
by various means, with the spirit world. Her world with its earth
sky, animals and plants, was a living, intelligent one. Its merits w
not confined to the blessing of life. It found its completion in worsl
It was not strange, then, that, relying on one excuse or another,
prolonged the lives of the roosters and hens. One hen was full ofli{
another a good layer. This rooster woke her in the morning with
crowing. Perhaps if it had been left entirely to her, she would ne
have consented to put her knife to their throats. If circumstances
force her to slaughter one, she selected a chicken or pigeon with a
feeling close to anguish. She would give it a drink, seek God's mercy
for it, invoke God's name, ask forgiveness, and then slaughter it. Iq
consolation was that she was exercising a right that God the Benefactor
had granted to all those who serve Him.
The most amazing aspect of the roof was the southern half overlooking
al-Nahhasin Street. There in years past she had planted a
special garden. There was not another one like it in the whole neighborhood
on any of the other roofs, which were usually covered with
chicken droppings. She had first begun with a small number of
of carnations and roses. They had increased year by year and were
arranged in rows parallel to the sides of the walls. They grew splendidly,
and she had the idea of putting a trellis over the top. She got
a carpenter to install it. Then she planted both jasmine and hyacinth
bean vines. She attached them to the trellis and around the posts.
They grew tall and spread out until the area was transformed into an
arbor garden with a green sky from which jasmine flowed down.
enchanting, sweet fragrance was diffused throughout.
This roof, with its inhabitants of chickens and pigeons and its
garden, was her beautiful, beloved world and her favorite place for
relaxation out of the whole universe, about which she knew nothing.
As usual at this hour, she set about caring for it. She swept it,
the plants, fed the chickens and pigeons. Then for a long
smiling lips and dreamy eyes, she enjoyed the scene surrounding her.
She went to the end of the garden and stood behind the
coiling vines, to gaze out through the openings at the limitless spaCe
around her.
She was awed by the minarets which shot up, making a profound
impression on her. Some were near enough for her to see their larnl
and crescent distinctly, like those of Qala'un and Barquq. Others
peared to her as complete wholes, lacking details, like the minar
PALACE WALK 3f
of the mosques of. al-Husayn, al-Ghuri, and al-Azhar. Still other minarets
were at the far horizon and seemed phantoms, like those of the
Citadel and l:lif.a'i mosques. She turned her face toward them with
devotion, fascination, thanksgiving, and hope. Her spirit soared over
their tops, as close as possible to the heavens. Then her eyes would
fix on the minaret of" the mosque of al-Husayn, the dearest one to
her because of her love for its namesake. She looked at it affectionately,
and her yearnings mingled with the sorrow that pervaded her
every time she remembered she was not allowed to visit the son of
the Prophet of God's daughter, even though she lived only minutes
away from his shrine.
She sighed audibly and that broke the spell. She began to amuse
herself by looking at the roofs and streets. The ye.arnings would not
leave her. She turned her back on the wall. Looking at the unknown
had overwhelmed her: both what is unknown to most people, the
invisible spirit world, and the unknown with respect to her in particular,
Cairo, even the adjacent neighborhood, from which voices
reached her. What could this world of which she saw nothing but the
minarets and roofs be like? A quarter of a century had passed while
she was confined to this house, leaving it only on infrequent occasions
to visit her mother in al-Khurunfush. Her husband escorted her
on each visit in a carriage, because he could not bear for anyone to
see his wife, either alone or accompanied by him.
She was neither resentful nor discontented, quite the opposite. All
the same, when she peeked through the openings between the jasmine
and the hyacinth bean vines, off into space, at the minarets and
rooftops, her delicate lips would rise in a tender, dreamy smile.
Where might the law school be where Fahmy was sitting at this
moment? Where was the Khalil Agha School, which Kamal assured
her was only a minute's trip from the mosque of al-Husayn? Before
leaving the roof, she spread her hands out in prayer and called on
her Lord: "God, I ask you to watch over my husband and chi}dren,
my mother and Yasin, and all the people: Muslims and Christians,
even the English, my Lord, but drive them from our land as a favor
to Fahmy, who does not like them."
|
When al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad reached his store, situated
front of the mosque of Barquq on al-Nahhasin Street, his assistan
Jamil al-Hamzawi, had already opened and readied it for their cus;,
tomers. The proprietor greeted him courteously and, smiling sweetly
headed for his desk. Al-Hamzawi was fifty. He had spent thirty
these years in this shop as an assistant to the founder, al-Hajj
al-Jawad, and then to al-Sayyid Ahmad after the father's death.
remained loyal to his master both for the sake of his job and out
devotion. He revered and loved him the way everyone did who had
any dealings with him, whether of business or friendship.
The truth was that he was dreaded and feared only in his owl
family. With everyone else--friends, acquaintances, and
--he was a different person. He received his share of respect
esteem but above all else was loved. He was loved for the charm d
his personality more than for any of his many other fine characteristics.
His acquaintances did not know what he was like at home.
members of his family did not know him as others did.
His store was of medium size. Containers of coffee beans, ri
nuts, dried fruit, and soap were crammed on the shelves and piled bI
the walls. The owner's desk with its ledgers, papers, and telepho
stood on the left opposite the entrance. To the right of where he sat
there was a green safe mounted in the wall. It looked reassuringly
solid, and its color was reminiscent of bank notes. In the center o
the wall over the desk hung an ebony frame containing an' Arabic
inscription illuminated in gold that read: "In the name of God."
Business was light early in the morning. The proprietor began to
review the accounts of the previous day with a zeal inherited from
his father but preserved with his own abundant vitality. Meanwhile
al-Hamzawi stood by the entrance, his arms folded against his chest.
He was reciting to himself the Qur'an verses he knew best. His voiCe
could not be heard, but the continual motion of his lips gave him
away. From time to time a faint whisper slipped out from a sibilant
s sound. He continued his recitation until the arrival of the blind
shaykh who had been retained to recite the Qur'an every morning.
pALACE WALK
AI-Sayyid Abroad would raise his head from his ledger every so
often to listen to the recitation or look out at the street and the
endless flow of passersby, hand and horse carts, and the Suars omnibus,
which was so big and heavy it could scarcely wobble along.
There were singing vendors who chanted jingles about their tomatoes,
mallow greens, and okra, each in his own style. The commotion
did not interfere with the proprietor's concentration. He had grown
accustomed to it over a period of more than thirty years. He was so
lulled by the noise that he was disturbed if it ceased.
A customer came in and al-Hamzawi waited on him. Some friends
and neighbors who were merchants stopped by. They liked to visit
with al-Sayyid Ahmad, even if only for a short time. They would
exchange greetings and enjoy one of his pleasantries or witty sayings.
They made him feel proud of his skill as a gifted storyteller. His
conversation had brilliant touches relating to the popular culture that
he had absorbed not from schooling, since he had never finished
primary school, but from reading newspapers and befriending an
elite group of gentry, government officials, and attorneys. His native
wit, graciousness, charm, and status as a prosperous merchant
qualified him to associate with them on an equal footing. He had
molded a mentality for himself different from the limited mercantile
one. The love, respect, and honor these fine people bestowed on
him doubled his pride. When one of them sincerely and truthfully
told him, "If you had had the opportunity to study law, you would
have been an exceptionally eloquent attorney," this statement inflated
his ego. All the same, he was good at hiding his pride with his charm,
modesty, and affability. None of these visitors stayed long. They
went off one after the other, and the pace of work increased in the
shop.
All at once a man rushed in as though propelled by a powerful
hand. He stood in the middle of the store, squinting his narrow eyes
to see better. He aimed them at the owner's desk. Although he was
no more than three meters away, his efforts to make him out were
to no avail. So he called out, "Is al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad
here?"
The proprietor replied with a smile, "Welcome, Shaykh Mutawalli
Abd al-Samad. Have a seat. You bless us with your presence."
The man bent his head. It so happened that as ai-Hamzawi approached
to greet him, the visitor, who did not notice his outstretched
hand, sneezed unexpectedly. AI-Hamzawi drew back and took out his
handkerchief. A smile and a frown collided on his face. The shaykh
Naguib Mahfou
plunged toward the desk, muttering, "Praise God, Lord of the
verse." He raised the edge of his cloak and wiped his face with
He sat down on the chair his host offered him.
The shaykh appeared to be in enviable health for his age,
was over seventy-five. If it had not been for his weak eyes, his
eyelids that were inflamed at the edges, and his sunken moutl
would have had nothing to.complain of. He was wrapped in a
threadbare cloak. Although he could have exchanged it for a bette
one through the donations of benefactors, he clung to it. He
that al-Husayn had blessed him in a dream and thus had given
cloak he wore an excellence that would not fade away. The
had performed miracles by penetrating the barriers of normal
knowledge to the invisible realm. He was known equally for
healing prayers, amulets, candor, and wit. He was at home
humor and mirth and that especially endeared him to al-Sayyid Abe
mad. Although a resident of the quarter, he did not burden any of
his disciples with his visits. Months might pass without anyon
knowing where he was. When he dropped by after an absence,
received a warm welcome and presents.
The owner gestured to his assistant to prepare the usual presea
of rice, coffee, and soap for the shaykh. Then he said to welco
him, "We've missed you, Shaykh Mutawalli. We haven't had
pleasure of seeing you since the holiday of Ashura."
The man replied bluntly, "I'm absent when I think fit and pres
when I choose. You should not ask why."
The proprietor, who was used to his style, stammered, Even
when you are absent, your blessing is present."
The shaykh did not seem touched by this praise. On the contrar3,
he shook his head in a way that showed his patience was exhausted.
He said gruffly, "Haven't I warned you more than once not to speak
to me until I address you? You should be silent."
Feeling an urge to vex him, the proprietor said, "Sorry, Shaykh
Abd al-Samad. I forgot your warning. My excuse is. that I forgot it
because you have been absent so long."
The shaykh struck his hands together and shouted, "An excuse is
worse than a sin." Pointing his index finger in a threatening way, he
continued: "If you persist in disobeying me, I'll be unable to accept
your gift."
The proprietor sealed his lips and spread out his hands in submis"
sion, constraining himself to be quiet this time. Shaykh Mutawaili
waited to be sure of his obedience. After clearing his throat he sid,
pALACE WALK
"I commence with a prayer in honor of Muhammad, the beloved
master of creation."
The proprietor responded from his depths, "God's blessing and
peace on him."
"I praise your father as he deserves; may God have plentiful comp-ssion
for him and grant him a spacious abode in His paradise. I
cana almost" see mint-'- sittin, where you are. The difference" between the
two of you being that your late father retained the turban and you
have traded it in for this fez."
The proprietor murmured with a smile, "May God forgive us."
The shaykh yawned till tears came to his eyes. Then he spoke
again: "I pray to God that He may grant your children prosperity
and piety: Yasin, Khadija, Fahmy, Aisha, and Kamal and their
mother. Amen."
Heating the shaykh pronounce the names Khadija and Aisha
sounded odd to al-Sayyid Ahmad, even though he was the one who
had told him their names a long time ago, so he could write amulet
inscriptions for them. It was not the first time the shaykh had pronounced
their names, nor would it be the last, but never would the
name of any of his women be mentioned outside their chambers, even
on the tongue of Shaykh Mutawalli, without its having a strange and
unpleasant impact on him, even if only for a short time. All the same,
he muttered, "Amen, O Lord of the universe."
The shaykh said with a sigh, "Then I ask God the Benefactor to
return to us our leader Abbas, backed by one of the caliph's armies,
which are without beginning or end."
"We so ask Him and it would not be difficult for Him."
The shaykh's voice rose as he said angrily, "And that He afflict
the English and their allies with a shocking defeat, leaving them without
a leg to stand on."
"May our Lord carry them all off."
The shaykh shook his head sorrowfully. He said with anguish,
"Yesterday I was walking in the Muski when two Australian soldiers
blocked my way. They told me to hand over everything I had. So l
emptied my pockets for them and brought out the one thing I had,
an ear of corn. One of them took it and kicked it like a ball. The
other snatched my turban. He unwound the cloth from it, ripped it,
and flung it in my face."
H The proprietor listened closely, fighting off the temptation to smile.
e quickly disguised it by an exaggerated display of disapproval. He
shouted in condemnation, "May God destroy and annihilate them."
Nagu
The other man concluded his account: "I raised my hand
sky and called out, 'Almighty God, rip their nation to shreds the,
they ripped my turban cloth.' "
"Your prayer will be answered, God willing."
The shaykh leaned back and closed his eyes to rest a little. Mea
while the proprietor scrutinized his face and smiled. Then the rdi.
gious guide opened his eyes and addressed him in a calm voice
a new tone, giving warning of a new subject. He said,
astute and gallant man you are, Ahmad, you son of Abd al-Jawd.
The proprietor smiled with pleasure. He responded in a low v0i¢
"I ask God's forgiveness, Shaykh Abd al-Samad..."
The shaykh interrupted him, saying, "Not so fast. I'm the sort 0
person who praises only to clear the way to speak the truth, for the
sake of encouragement, son of Abd aI-Jawad."
A wary circumspection was evident in the eyes of the proprietor.
He muttered, "May our Lord be gracious to us."
The shaykh gestured at him with his gnarled forefinger and asked
him threateningly, "What do you have to say as a devout Muslim
concerning your lust for women?"
The proprietor was accustomed to his candor. Thus he wa not
troubled by his assault. After a brief laugh he replied, "How can
you fault me for that? Didn't the Messenger of God (the blessing
and peace of God upon him) speak of his love for
women?"
The shaykh frowned and looked even grimmer in protest
the proprietor's logic, which he did not like. He countered, "Licit
are not the same as forbidden ones, you son of Abd al-Jawad, btarriage
is not the same as chasing after hussies."
The proprietor stared at nothing in particular and said in a seriot
tone, "I have never allowed myself to offend against honor or di
at all. Praise God for that."
The shaykh struck his hands on his knees and exclaimed with
tonishment and disgust, "A weak excuse fit only for a wea[ person.
Immorality is damnable even if it is with a debauched woman, your
father, may God have mercy on him, was crazy about women.
married twenty times. Why don't you follow his path and shun th
sinner's?"
The proprietor laughed out loud. He asked, "Are yot
saints or a nuptial official? My father was almost sterile; so he
many times. Even though I was his only child, his property
up between me and his last four wives, not to mention what
PALACE WALK
4I
during his lifetime in divorce settlements. Now I'm the father of three
males and two females. It wouldn't be proper for me to slip into more
marriages and have to divide the wealth that God has bestowed on
us. Don't forget, Shaykh Mutawalli, that the professional women entertainers
of today are the slave girls of yesterday, whose purchase
and sale God made legal. More than anything else, God is forgiving
and merciful-"
The shaykh moaned. Shaking his torso right and left, he said,
"How adept you are, you sons of Adam, in embellishing evil. By
God, you son of Abd al-Jawad, were it not for my love of you, I
would not suffer you to speak to me, you fornicator."
The proprietor spread out his hands and said with a smile, "God
grant • • •
The shaykh snorted in annoyance and yelled, "If it weren't for
your jokes, you'd be the most perfect of men."
"Perfection is God's alone."
The shaykh turned toward him and motioned with his hand as if
to say, "Let's put this aside." Then he asked in the tone of an interrogator
tightening his grip around his victim's throat, "And wine?
What do you say about that?"
Suddenly the proprietor's spirits flagged. His discomfort was apparent
in his eyes. He remained silent for some time. The shaykh
sensed submission in his silence. He shouted in triumph, "Isn't it
forbidden? No one would succumb to it who strives to obey and love
God."
The proprietor interrupted with the zeal of a man fending off a
veritable disaster: "I certainly strive to obey and love Him."
"By word or deed?"
Although he had an answer ready, he took some time to think
about it before replying. He was not accustomed to busying himself
with introspection or self-analysis. In this way he was like most people
who are rarely alone. His mind did not swing into action until
some external force required it: a man or woman or some element of
his material life. He had surrendered himself to the busy current of
his life, submerging himself totally in it. All he saw of himself was
his reflection on the surface of the stream. Moreover, his zest for life
had not diminished as he grew older. He was forty-five and still
enjoyed an ardent and exuberant vigor like that of an adolescent
youth. His life was composed of a diversity of mutually contradictory
elements, wavering between piety and depravity. Contradictory
though they were, they all met with his satisfaction, without needing
Naguib Mahfouz
to be propped up by any pillar of personal philosophy or rationalization. His conduct issued directly from his
Having a clear conscience, he was good-hearted and sincere in
thing he did. His breast was not shaken by storms
passed his nights peacefully. His faith was deep. It was true ihat.
had inherited it and that there was no room for innovation in it.j
the same, his sensitivity, discernment, and sincerity had added
elevated, refined feeling to it, which prevented it from being
traditionalism or a ritualism inspired by nothing but desire or:
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