with his manly status. The best thing would be for him to
leave, but where to? He would have to live alone. That was not out
of the question. He considered the matter from every angle, estimated
his expenses, and asked himself how much would be left over for his
entertainment in al-Sayyid Ali's coffee shop, in Costaki's bar, and
with Zanuba. At this point his enthusiasm flagged. Then it was extinguished
like the flame of a lamp when a strong gust of wind hits it.
Although he knew he was not being totally honest, he told himself,
"If I obey Satan and leave home, I'll create a bad precedent that would be wrong for our family. No matter what my father says or
does, he's my father. It's absurd to think his discipline would be
unjust." Then he continued with the candor he affected when in a
playful mood: "Have some humility, Yasin Bey. Spare us the talk
about honor, by the life of your mother. Which do you love more:
your honor or Costaki's cognac and Zanuba's navel?"
Thus Yasin abandoned the thought of leaving home and kept on
waiting for the anticipated summons. When it arrived, he pulled him
Nagui Ma]fou
self together and set off, reluctantly and apprehensively. He entered
the room, walking softly, his head bowed. He stopped at some distance
from his father and did not dare offer him a word of greeting.
Yasin waited while al-Sayyid Ahmad gave him a long look. Then the
father shook his head in amazement and said, "God's will be done!
So tall and broad.., a mustache and a wide neck. If someone saw
you on the street he'd comment admiringly, 'What a fine son for
some lucky man.' If only he'd come to the house to see you in your
true colors."
The young man became even more distressed and embarrassed but
said nothing. Al-Sayyid Ahmad continued to examine him angrily.
Then in a stern and commanding voice he told him tersely, "I've
decided you're going to get married."
Yasin was so astonished he could scarcely believe his ears. Curses
and rebukes were all he had been expecting. It had never occurred to
him that he would hear an important decision altering the whole
course of his life. He could not keep himself from raising his eyes to
look at his father's face. When they met his father's piercing blue
ones, he looked down, blushed, and kept silent.
Al-Sayyid Ahmad realized that his son had been expecting rough
treatment and was caught off guard by these blissful tidings. The
father was enraged at the circumstances that dictated this mild-mannered
approach, fearing it would shake Yasin's faith in his reputation
for tyranny. He vented his anger in his voice as he said with a frown,
"I don't have much time. I want to hear your answer."
Since the man had decided Yasin was to marry, there was only
one possible answer, and there was nothing to prevent him from
hearing the answer he wanted. In this case, Yasin's obedience to his
father was also obedience to his own desire. Yes, no sooner had his
father announced the decision than Yasin's imagination shot off, depicting
his beautiful bride. He would have a woman entirely to himself,
to be at his beck and call. The image delighted him so much, his
voice almost gave him away when he answered, "The decision's up
to you, Papa."
"Do you want to marry or not?... Speak."
With the caution of a person wanting to get married but financially
unprepared, the young man replied, "Since this is your wish, I agree
with all my heart."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad softened the roughness of his voice when he said, "I'll request for you the daughter of my friend Mr. Muhammad
PALACE WALK
Iffat, a textile merchant in al-Hamzawi. She's a treasure who's too
good for an ox like you."
Yasin smiled delicately and, trying to ingratiate himself with his
father, said, "With your help I'll try to be a good husband for her.'
His father glared at him as if attempting to pierce through his
flattery and said, "No one hearing you would imagine what you're
capable of doing, you hypocrite.... Get out of my sight."
Yasin started to leave, but his father stopped him with a gesture
of his hand. Al-Sayyid Ahmad added, as though he had just happened
to think of the question, "I suppose you've saved up enough for the
dowry?"
Yasin did not have an answer. He became more upset. His father
was enraged and remarked incredulously, "Even after you got a job
you continued to live at my expense the way you did when you were
a student. What have you done with your salary?"
All Yasin did was move his lips without uttering a word. His father
shook his head in annoyance. He remembered speaking to him a year
and a half before. When Yasin got his government position, al-Sayyid
Ahmad had told him, "If I were to ask you to take care of your own
expenses like an adult, I would not be deviating from the norm between
fathers and sons, but I will not ask you for a single penny, so
you can have an opportunity to put aside a sum of money to have at
your disposal when you need it." In this way he had shown his
confidence in his son.
He could not imagine that one of his sons, after the stern discipline
and training he had meted out, would have an inclination for any of
the passions that squander money. He could not imagine that his little
boy would turn into a philandering drunkard. The wine and women
al-Sayyid Abroad considered a harmless form of recreation for himself,
fully compatible with manly virtue, became an unforgivable
crime when they defiled one of his sons. The young man's blunder
in the courtyard, which al-Sayyid Ahmad had discovered, reassured
him to the same extent that it angered him. It would have been impossible,
in his opinion, for Umm Hanafi to tempt the young man if
he had not been struggling to maintain an intolerable level of chastity
and rectitude.
He could not imagine that his son had wasted his money on wine
and women, but he did remember noticing Yasin was fond of elegance,
choosing expensive suits, neckties, and shirts. He had been
uncomfortable about that and had warned him against throwing away
Naguib Mahfou
his money. His warning had been mild, because he did not think
elegance a crime and because it was an interest he shared with his
son. He saw no harm in his sons imitating him in this manner. It
made him feel kindly and well disposed toward them. What had been
the result of that lenience? It was clear to him now that Yasin had
squandered his money on unimportant luxuries. The man snorted
with rage and told his son bitterly, "Get out of my sight."
Yasin departed from the room, leaving his father angry at him for
squandering his money, not, as he had anticipated, for his moral
lapse. Being a spendthrift had never troubled Yasin before. He had
let it happen without any thought or planning. He would spend whatever
he had in his pocket until it was gone. He was immersed in the
present, turning a blind eye to the future, as though it did not exist.
Yasin left the room upset, cowering from his father's scolding, but
he felt a deep relief since he realized that this scolding meant he
would not be thrown out of the house and also that his father would
bear the expenses of his wedding. He was like a child who, having
pestered his father for a coin, gets it and is shoved outside. Then the
happiness of the boy's triumph makes him forget the strength of the
push.
AI-Sayyid Ahmad was still angry and began to repeat, "What an
animal he is. He's got a big, strong body, but no brain." He was
angry that Yasin had squandered his money, as though he himself
never had. He saw nothing wrong with extravagance, any more than
he did with his other passions, so long as it did not bankrupt him,
make him forget his obligations, or harm his character. But what
guarantee did he have that Yasin would be as resolute? A1-Sayyid
Abroad did not forbid his son what he allowed himself merely out of
egoism and authoritarianism, but because he was concerned about
him. Of course, this concern of his revealed how confident he was of
himself and how little he trusted his son, and neither sentiment was
entirely free of conceit. As usual, his anger abated as quickly as it
had flared up. His peace of mind returned, and his features relaxed.
Matters began to appear to him in a new, agreeable, tolerable light.
"You want to be like your father, ox?... Then don't adopt one
side and neglect the others. Be Abroad Abd al-]awad completely if
you can, otherwise know your limits. Did you really think I was
angry at your extravagance because I wanted you to get married at
your own expense? Far from it.... I simply hoped to find you bad
been careful with your money so I could marry you off at my expense
and leave you with a surplus. This is the hope you disappointed. Did
PALACE WALK 28
you suppose I wouldn't have thought about choosing a wife for you
until I caught you philandering? What a wretched excuse for sex that
was, wretched, like your taste and your mother's. No, you mule, I've
been thinking about your married bliss since you became a government
employee. How could it be otherwise, since you were the first
to make a father of me? You're my partner in the torment to which
your damned mother has exposed us. So don't I have the right to
give you, in particular, a festive wedding? I'm going to have to wait
a long time to marry offthe other ox your brother, who's a prisoner
of love. Who knows who'll be alive then?"
The following moment he recalled something directly related to
his present situation. He remembered how he had told Mr. Muhammad
Iffat about Yasin's "crime" and how he had scolded him and
yanked him by the arm in a way that almost made him fall on his
face. That revelation had been apropos of his request for the hand of
the man's daughter for his son. The fact was that the two men had
already agreed on the marriage before he brought it up with Yasin.
Muhammad Iffat had asked him, "Don't you think it would be
appropriate to change the way you treat your son, as he grows more
mature, especially now that he has a job and has become a responsible
adult?" He had laughed before continuing: "It's clear you're a
father who doesn't ease up until his sons openly rebel."
A1-Sayyid Ahmad had answered his friend: "It's out of the question
that the relationship between me and my sons should change with
time." He had felt a boundless confidence and pride in this answer
but later had acknowledged that his treatment actually had changed,
although he had tried to keep anyone from detecting his hidden intention
to change. He had added: "The truth is that I'm no longer
willing to lift my hand against Yasin or even Fahmy. I only yanked
Yasin like that because I was so angry. I didn't mean to get carried
away." Then, reverting to a time in the distant past, he had continued:
"My father, God's mercy on him, raised me so strictly that my
severity with my sons seems lenient, but he quickly changed the way
he treated me once he asked me to help him in the store. Then after
I married Yasin's mother, his treatment changed into a father's friendship.
My self-esteem became so great that I opposed his final marriage,
because he was much older than the bride. All he did was to
say, 'Do you oppose me, ox?... What's it got to do with you? I'm
better able than you to satisfy any woman.' I couldn't keep from
laughing, and I apologetically set about conciliating him."
While al-Sayyid Abroad was recalling all of this, a saying came to
Naguib Mahfou
his mind: "When your son grows up, make him your brother." Perhaps
more than ever before he felt how complicated it is to be a
father.
That same week, their mother announced Yasin's engagement at
the coffee hour. Fahmy had learned about it from Yasin himself.
Khadi/a instinctively recognized that there was some relationship between
the engagement and her father's anger at Yasin. She suspected
his anger had arisen from Yasin's desire to get married, going on the
analogy of what had happened between her father and Fahmy. She
stated her opinion bluntly, but in the form of a question.
Glancing at their mother with shame and embarrassment, Yasin
laughed and said, "The truth is that there's a very strong link between
the anger and the engagement."
In order to make a sarcastic joke, Khadija pretended to be skeptical.
She said, "Papa can be excused for getting angry, because you won't
do him much credit with a close friend like al-Sayyid Muhammad
Iffat."
Yasin countered her sarcasm: "Father's position will become even
more difficult when the aforementioned personage learns the bridegroom
has a sister like you."
Then Kamal asked, "Will you leave us, Yasin, the way Aisha did?"
His mother replied with a smile, "Of course not. A new sister, the
bride, will join our household."
Kamal was relieved at this answer, which he had not been expecting.
He was relieved because his storyteller was staying to entertain
him with stories, anecdotes, and conviviality. But then he asked why
Aisha had not stayed with them too.
His mother replied that it was customary for the bride to move to
the bridegroom's house and not vice versa. Kamal wondered who
had established this custom. He dearly wished it had been the other
way round, even if he had had to sacrifice Yasin and his droll stories.
He was not able to state this desire openly, and so he expressed it
with a look directed at his mother.
Fahmy was the only one saddened by the news. Although he was
happy for Yasin, marriage had become a subject that awakened his
emotions and stirred up his sorrows, just as talk of victory stirs up
the sorrows of a mother who has lost her son in a triumphal battle.
The carriage set off to take the mother, Khadija and Kamal to Sugar
Street. Was Aisha's wedding the harbinger of a new era of freedom?
Would they finally be able to see the world from time to time and
breathe its fresh air? Amina had not let herself get her hopes up or
become too optimistic. The man who had forbidden her to visit her
mother, except on rare occasions, was equally capable of preventing
her from calling on her daughter. She could not forget that many
days had passed since her daughter's wedding. AI-Sayyid Ahmad,
Yasin, Fahmy, and even Umm Hanafi had visited Aisha, but he had
not given her permission to go, and her courage had not been up to
asking. She was wary about reminding him that she had a daughter
on Sugar Street whom she needed to see. She remained silent, but
the image of her little girl never left her mind. When the pain of
waiting grew too great to bear, she summoned all her willpower to
ask him, "Is my master planning to visit Aisha soon, God willing, so
we can be sure she's all right?"
Suspecting that her question was motivated by a hidden desire, alSayyid
Ahmad got angry at her, but not because he had decided to
prevent her visit. It was typical of him in such cases to wish to grant
permission as a gift, without a prior request. He did not want her to
think her request had had any influence on him. He assumed she was
trying to remind him with this sly question. At an earlier time he had
thought about this question apprehensively and had been annoyed to
realize that such a visit was unavoidable. So he shouted at her furiously,
"Aisha's in her husband's house and doesn't need any of us.
Besides, I've visited her, and her brothers have too. Why are you
anxious about her?"
In her despair and defeat, her heart sank and her throat felt dry.
AI-Sayyid Ahmad had decided to punish her for what he considered
her unforgivable cunning by remaining silent, as though the subject
Was closed. He ignored her for a long time, although he glanced
Stealthily at her sorrowful expression. When it was time for him to
leave for work, he said tersely and gruffly, "Go visit her tomorrow."
ler face, which was incapable of hiding any emotion, immediately
Naguib Ma/fou
became radiant with joy. She looked as happy as a child. It did not
take long for his anger to return. He shouted at her, "You'll never
see her after that, unless her husband allows her to visit us."
She made no reply to this remark but did not forget a promise she
had made to Khadiia when they discussed bringing up the topic with
him. Hesitantly and apprehensively she asked, "Will my master allow
me to take Khadiia?"
He shook his head as though to say, "God's will be done....
God's will be done." Then he replied sharply, "Of course, or" course!
Since I've agreed to let my daughter get married, my family's got to join the demimonde parading through the streets. Take her! May our Lord take all of you away."
Her joy was even more complete than she had thought possible.
She paid no attention to the final curse, which she often heard when
he was angry or pretending to be angry. She knew it came from his
lips and not his heart, which felt quite the opposite way. He was like
a mother cat which appears to be devouring her kittens when she is
actually carrying them.
The wish was granted, and the vehicle started on its way to Sugar Street. Kamal seemed happiest of all, for three reasons. He was going to visit Aisha, he was on an excursion with his mother and sister, and
he was riding in a carriage. As though he could not keep his joy a
secret and wished to announce it to everyone or attract attention to
himself sitting in the carriage between his mother and sister, he suddenly
stood up and cried out, "Amm Hasanayn, look!" when the
vehicle approached the barbershop. The man looked at him. Discovering
that Kamal was not alone, he quickly lowered his eyes and
smiled. The mother was terribly embarrassed and upset. She grabbed Kamal by the edge of his jacket, so he would not repeat his peormance
as they passed the other shops, and scolded him lor the crazy
thing he had done.
The house on Sugar Street appeared to be ancient, a relic. It looked quite different without its decorative wedding lights. The very age and mass of the building and the expensive 'urnishings all suggested
power and prestige. The Shawkats were an old family, although n..ot
much was left of their 'ormer glory, except their name, especially
since the family fortune had been divided up over the years by inheritance.
The fact that they shunned modern education had not
helped either. The bride had taken up residence on the second floor.
Because of her age, Widow Shawkat had difficulty climbing the stairS
and moved down to the first floor with her elder son, Ibrahim- The
PALACE WALK
third floor remained vacant. They did not try to use it and refused to
rent it out.
When the family entered Aisha's apartment, Kamal wanted to rush
off on his own, the way he would at home, in order to scout around
until he found his sister all by himself. He looked forward to the
pleasure of the surprise and pictured it to himself as he climbed up
the stairs, but his mother would not let him escape from her grip, no
matter how hard he tried. Before he knew what was happening, the
servant had led them to the parlor and left them there alone. Kamal
felt they were being treated like strangers or company. He was dejected
and depressed and began to repeat with alarm, "Where's
Aisha?... Why are we waiting here?"
The only answer he received was "hush" and a warning that he
would not be allowed to visit again if he raised his voice. His pain
quickly left him once Aisha came running in, her face beaming with
a smile of such brilliance it outshone her magnificent clothes and
dazzling finery. Kamal ran to her and put his arms around her neck.
He clung to her all the time she was exchanging greetings with her
mother and sister.
Aisha appeared to be ecstatic about herself, her new life, and her
family's visit. She told them about the visits from her father, Yasin,
and Fahmy and how her desire to see the rest of the family had
conquered her fear of her father. She had been daring enough to ask
permission for them to call on her.
She said, "I don't know how my tongue obeyed me and let me
speak. Perhaps it was his new image that encouraged me. He seemed
to be charming, mild-mannered, and smiling. Yes, by God, he was
smiling. Even so, I hesitated for a long time. I was afraid he would
suddenly revert back to form and scold me. Finally I put my faith in
God and spoke."
Her mother asked her how he had replied. Aisha answered, "He
said, in as few words as possible, God willing.' Then he continued
quickly in a serious tone that sounded like a warning: 'But don't think
this is a game. There's a limit to everything.' My heart pounded and
I proceeded to invoke blessings on him for a long time to try to
humor and placate him."
Then she skipped back a little to describe how she had felt when
she was told, "The head of your family is in the parlor."
She said, "I raced to the bathroom and washed my face to get off
Very trace of towder. Mr. Khalil asked me why I was doing that,
ut I told him,"Believe me, I can't even meet him in this summer
Naguib Mahfour
dress, because my arms show.' I didn't go till I wrapped myself in
my cashmere shawl."
Then she said, "When Mother..." She laughed.,I mean my new
mother. When she heard about it, because Mr. Khalil told her what
happened, she said, 'I know al-Sayyid Ahmad extremely well. He's
like that and worse.' Then she turned to me and said, 'Shushu, you
should realize that you're no longer part of the Abd al-Jawad family.
Now you're one of the Shawkats. So pay no attention to anyone
Aisha's splendid appearance and her conversation awakened their
love and admiration. Kamal gazed at her as he had the night of the
wedding and asked contentiously, "Why didn't you look like this
when you were at our house?"
She laughed and immediately answered him, "Back then, I wasn't
a Shawkat."
Even Khadiia looked at her affectionately. The girl's marriage had
eliminated all the reasons for the name-calling that used to break out
between them when they were cooped up together. Moreover, only
a small trace was left of the resentment Khadiia had felt when permission
was granted for the younger sister to marry first, since she
blamed her misfortune on luck, not her sister. Her heart held nothing
but love and longing for her. She missed her frequently, particularly
when she needed a companion to confide in.
Then Aisha talked about her new home with the enclosed balcony
overlooking Mutawalli Gate, the minarets that shot up into the sky
nearby, and the steady flow of traffic. Everything around her
minded her of the old house and the streets and buildings surrounding
it. There was no difference except for the names and some
secondary features. "And, come to think of it, you don't have anything
comparable to the huge gate where you live."
Then, with a trace of disappointment, she admitted, "Although Mr.
Khalil told me the procession of pilgrims setting off for Mecca does
not pass by our balcony.... "
She continued: "Directly under the balcony there's a spot where
three men sit all day long until night comes: a crippled beggar, a
vendor of red leather shoes, and a fortune-teller who makes his predictions
by reading patterns in sand. They are my new neighbors.
The geomancer is the most successful. Don't ask me about the droves
of women and men who squat in front of him to find out what their
fortune will be.... How I wish my balcony were a little lower so I
PALACE WALK 29!
could hear what he tc|Is them. The most entertaining sight of all is
the Suars omnibus coming from al-Darb al-Ahmar when it meets a
wagon of stones on its way from al-Ghuriya. The entrance of the
gae is too narrow for both of them, and each of the drivers gets it
io his head to challenge the other and force him to retreat and make way. At first the language is relatively polite, but then it becomes
sharp and rude. Their throats bellow out curses and insults. Meanwhile
the donkey carts and the handcarts arrive on the scene till the road is choked with them and no one has any idea how to get things
back to normal. I stand there at the peephole trying not to laugh as
I watch the faces and the sights."
The courtyard of Aisha's new home was quite similar to theirs,
with an oven room and a pantry. Her mother-in-law ruled the courtyard
with the help of the maid Suwaydan. "I don't have any work to
do. If I even mention the kitchen, a tray of food is brought to me."
At that, Khadija could not keep from laughing. She commented,
"You've finally got what you always wanted."
Kamal did not find much of interest in this discussion, but its general
tone left him with the impression that Aisha was settling here
permanently. He was alarmed and asked her, "Aren't you coming
back to
The room was filled by a voice answering, "She won't return to
you, Mr. Kamal." It was Khalil Shawkat, who entered the room
laughing. He strutted in, his medium-sized body arrayed in a white
silk house shirt. He had a full, oval face with white skin. His eyes
bulged out slightly, and his lips were full. His large head was topped
by a narrow brow and thick black hair parted at the crown. The color
and styling of his hair resembled that of al-Sayyid Ahmad. There was
a good-humored, languid look in his eyes, possibly the result of his
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