life of rest, relaxation, and fun. He bent over his mother-in-laws hand
to kiss it, but she quickly withdrew it in embarrassment and discomfort,
stammering her thanks. He greeted Khadija and Kamal and sat
down--as Kamal put it later--as though he were one of them. The
boy seized the opportunity presented by the bridegroom's conversation
with the others to scrutinize his face for a long time. It was a
stranger's face that had suddenly appeared in their lives, where it
occupied a prominent position that entitled the man to be one of their
closest relatives--in fact, Aisha's husband. Whenever Kamal thought
of this new relationship, he remembered the loss of Aisha, just as
surely as the thought of white brings to mind the color black. He
Naguib Mahfou
looked at Khalil's face for a long time and repeated to himself Khalil's
confident words: "She won't return to you, Mr. Kamal." Kamal disapproved
of Khalil. He found him repulsive and resented him. These
sentiments had almost gained control of Kamal when the man rose
suddenly, returning shortly with a silver tray with different kinds of
sweets. He gave Kamal a fine selection of the very best varieties.
Khalil smiled pleasantly at Kamal, even though two of his teeth
overlapped each other.
Then Widow Shawkat appeared, leaning on the arm of a man they
assumed to be Khalil's older brother, since he looked so much like
him. Their assumption was confirmed when the widow introduced
him: "My son Ibrahim... don't you know him yet?" She noticed
how upset Amina and Khadija were when greeting him and said with
a smile, "We've been like a single family for a long time, but some
of us are only now seeing each other for the first time... never
mind!"
Amina understood that the woman was encouraging her and trying
to make it easy for her. She smiled but felt anxious. She wondered
whether her husband would consent to have her meet this man when
she was not wearing a veil, even if he was as much a new member
of the family as Khalil. Should she tell her husband about the encounter
or avoid mentioning it in the interests of peace?
Ibrahim and Khalil could have been twins except for the difference
in age, for their other differences seemed slight indeed. In fact, but
for Ibrahim's short hair and twisted mustache, there would have been
nothing to distinguish him from Khalil, even though Ibrahim was in
his forties. His youthfulness and general appearance seemed not to
have been affected by the passing years. Amina remembered what
her husband had told her once about the late Mr. Shawkat, that he
"looked twenty years or more younger than he really was." He had
also said that he, "despite his good nature and nobility, was like an
animal in never allowing thought to ruffle his serenity." How strange
that Ibrahim looked thirty, even though he had married when young
and had had two children by his wife, who had subsequently died
along with their children. He had emerged unscathed and unharmed
from this grim experience, returning to his mother to live the indolent,
calm life of leisure of all the Shawkats.
Khadija amused herself, whenever no one was watching her, by
stealing glances at the brothers who resembled each other in amazing
ways. Each had a full, oval face and wide protruding eyes. They were
both portly and languid. These traits stirred Khadija's sense of irony,
PALACE WALK 2)
and she laughed about them to herself. She began to store up images
in her memory that she could make use of at the coffee hour. Because
of her propensity for sarcasm, she was prone to mischief and comedy.
She searched carefully for a descriptive and critical epithet she could
apply to them, like the ones she gave to her other victims, on a par
with their mother's nickname, "the machine gun," inspired by the
way her spit flew when she talked.
Glancing furtively at Ibrahim, Khadija was terrified to find his wide
eyes looking at her. Peering out from beneath his thick eyebrows,
they were examining her face with interest. She lowered her eyes in
shame and confusion. She asked herself with alarm what he might
infer from her look. Then she found herself thinking nervously about
her appearance and the impression it would make on him. Would he
ridicule her nose the way she had his corpulence and lassitude? She
became engrossed in these anxious thoughts.
Even though he had been reunited with Aisha, Kamal was bored.
They were being treated like guests. None of his wishes had been
realized, except for the sweets he had been given. He sidled up to the
bride and gestured to her that he wished to be alone with her. She
rose and, taking his hand, left the room. She thought he would be
satisfied to sit with her in the central living room, but he pulled her
into the bedroom and slammed the door behind them. His face
beamed and his eyes shone. He looked at her for a long time and
then studied the room from corner to corner. He sniffed the new
furniture flagrance which blended with a sweet aroma possibly left
from the activities of the wedding perfumers. Then he looked at the
comfortable bed and the pair of rose-colored cushions lying side by
side at the point where the bedspread covered the pillows. He asked
her, "What are they?"
She replied, "Two small pillows."
He asked, "Do you sleep on them?"
She said with a smile, "No, they're just for decoration."
He pointed at the bed and asked, "Where do you sleep?"
Still smiling, she answered, "Inside it."
As though he wanted to make certain whether her husband slept
with her, he asked, "What about Mr. Khalil?"
Giving his cheek a gentle pinch, she said, "Outside."
Then he turned toward the chaise longue in amazement and went
over to sit on it. He invited her to sit beside him and she did. He was
soon lost in his memories. He had to lower his eyes to hide their
uneasy look. His disquieting suspicions laad been aroused by the in
Naguib Mahfou
tensity of his mother's attack on him after the wedding when he was
confiding to her what he had seen through a hole in the door. He
was tempted to tell Aisha his secret and ask her about it. This temptation
contained an element of cruelty. Embarrassment and doubt prevented
him from asking. He suppressed his desire, in spite of himself.
He raised his clear eyes to look at her and smiled.
She smiled back and leaned toward him to kiss him. Then she rose.
Her face was covered by a sweet smile when she said, "I've got to
fill your pockets with chocolates."
The boys massed near the door of the house and along the sidewalk
by the historic cistern building were all yelling back and forth to each
other. Among the screams of joy, Kamal's voice could be heard proclaiming,
"I see the bride's car." He repeated that three times. Yasin,
splendidly attired in his best clothes, left the group of men waiting
at the entrance to the courtyard to stand in front of the door, facing
toward al-Nahhasin. He caught sight of the bridal procession, which
was advancing slowly, as though on parade.
At that hour so full of both happiness and dread, Yasin appeared
steady and resolute, despite the eyes staring at him from inside the
house and out, from above and below. He was charged with manliness
and virility, and one factor that helped steady him was his sensation
of being the focus of attention. He wrestled courageously with
his internal discomfort so people would not think him unmanly. He
may also have known that his father was out of sight, having withdrawn
to a spot behind the group at the entrance composed of the
male members of the families of the bride and bridegroom. Thus
Yasin was in full control of himself when he saw the automobile
decorated with roses that was bringing him his bride. The girl had
been his wife for more than a month now, although he had not set
eyes on her yet. Yasin's resolve was also strengthened by the hope
forged by his dreams, which were thirsty for happiness and would
not be satisfied with anything transitory.
The first automobile in the long line came to a halt in front of the
house. Yasin prepared for the auspicious arrival. He hoped once more
that he could see through the silk veil well enough to get a first look
at the face of his bride. The door of the car was opened and out
stepped a black maid in her forties. She was powerfully built and had
gleaming skin and large eyes. He surmised on the basis of her confident
and proud gestures that she was the servant selected to continue
serving the bride in her new home. She moved aside to plant
herself like a sentry and smile with pearly-white teeth before addressing
Yasin in a resounding voice: "Come take your bride."
Yasin approached the door of the automobile and leaned partway
Naguib Mahfou
inside. He saw the bride in her white garments sitting by two young
ladies. He was greeted by the fragrance of a captivating perfume.
Dazzled, he lost himself in the beautiful atmosphere. Although his
eyes had not adjusted from the light outside and could scarcely discern
anything, he held out his arm. The bride's shyness restrained
her, and she made no movement. The girl to her right intervened to
take the bride's hand and place it on his arm. She whispered merrily
to her, "Take heart, Zaynab."
They entered the house side by side, but because of her modesty
she held a large fan of ostrich feathers between them to hide her head
and neck. Passing between two rows of male guests, they crossed the
courtyard. They were followed by the women from her family, who
let out their trilling shrieks of joy, paying no attention to the presence
nearby of al-Sayyid Ahmad. Thus joyful cries rang out in this silent
house for the first time, and the tyrannical master was present to hear
them. If the members of his household were astonished, it was an
astonishment mixed with delight and even a trace of innocent and
merry malice, which revived their spirits after his stern and weighty
decree that there would be no shouts of joy, no singing, and no
entertainment. The wedding night of his eldest son was to be just
like any other night.
Amina, Khadija, and Aisha exchanged smiling but quizzical looks.
They crowded up against the peephole in the window grille overlooking
the courtyard to observe al-Sayyid Ahmad's reaction. They
saw him talking and laughing with Mr. Muhammad Iffat. Amina murmured,
"All he can do tonight is laugh, no matter what he notices
that he doesn't like."
Umm Hanafi seized this golden opportunity to slip her barrel-like
figure in among the ladies doing the trilling. She let loose with a
powerful, ringing cry that drowned out all the others. With it, she
sought to make up for all the opportunities for merriment and delight
during the engagements of Aisha and Yasin that had been lost because
of the dread house rules. She came upstairs to be with the ladies
and trilled until they were dying from laughter. She told them, "Give
a trill of joy even if it's the only time in your life He won't know
tonight who's doing it."
After escorting his bride to the door of the women's quarters, Yasin
returned and came upon Fahmy, who had an apprehensive and
uneasy smile on his lips, possibly because of this forbidden but splendid
racket. He was peeking furtively at his father. Then he looked
PALACE WALK
hack at his brother and laughed briefly in a halearted way. Yasin
reacted indignantly and asked, "What's wrong with enlivening a
wedding night with gaiety and cries of joy? How would it have
harmed him to hire a female vocalist or a male singer?"
The family had wanted to have a singer, but they had found no
way to express this wish, although Yasin had encouraged Mr. Muhammad
If'fat to intervene with his father. Al-Sayyid Ahmad had declined.
He had refused to allow any music at the wedding. The joys
of the evening would be confined to a sumptuous dinner.
Yasin continued sorrowfully: "I won't have anyone to provide music
for a real bridal procession tonight. I'll never have another chance.
I'll enter the bridal chamber without any send-off, songs, or tambourines.
I might as well be a dancer trying to wiggle his torso without
a percussion accompaniment."
A naughty, cheerful smile could be seen in his eyes when he added,
"There's no doubt that the only place our father can tolerate women
entertainers is in their own homes."
Kamal remained for a time on the top floor, which had been prepared
to receive the women guests. Then, in search of Yasin, he went
down to the first floor, where the male guests were being entertained.
He found his brother in the courtyard inspecting the mobile kitchen
the caterer had set up. Kamal approached him happily, proud of having
carried out the mission his brother had entrusted to him. He told
him, "I did just what you said. I followed the bride to her room and
examined her after she removed the veil from her face."
Yasin took him aside and asked with a smile, "So?... How's she
built?"
"Her build's like Khadija's."
Yasin laughed. "Nothing wrong with that Did you like her as
much as Aisha?"
"Of course not.... Aisha's much prettier."
"A pox on your house. Do you mean to say she looks like Khadija?"
"Of course not. She's prettier than Khadija."
"A lot prettier?" Yasin shook his head thoughtfully and ordered
the lad impatiently, "Tell me what you liked about her."
"Her nose is small, like Mama's Her eyes are like Mama's too."
"And then?"
"She has a fair complexion. Her hair is black. She has a beautiful
fragrance."
Naguil Matfou
"Praise God. May our Lord be gracious to you." Yasin imagined
that the boy was struggling with a desire to say something more. He
said to him somewhat anxiously, "Tell everything. Don't be afraid."
"I saw her take out a handkerchief and blow her nose." Kamal
twisted up his lips in disgust, as though he thought it terrible that a
bride at the height of her charms should do such a thing.
• Yasin could not keep himself from laughing. He said, "Up to this
point, everything's great. May our Lord make everything that follows
good too." He cast a despairing look at the courtyard, which was
empty except for the caterer and his assistants and a few children. He
thought there should have been some decorations and a tent wheremusicians
could perform for the guests. Who had decreed it should
be this way? His father.., the man who devoted his energies to
buffoonery, rowdiness, and music. What a strange man he was to
sancticn forbidden forms of entertainment for himself while denying
his family legitimate enjoyments. Yasin began to imagine his father
the way he had seen him in Zubayda's room, with his glass of wine
and the lute. Before he knew it, a strange thought jumped into his
mind. Although it was extremely clear to him now, it had never oco
curred to him before. He saw a similarity between his father's character
and that of his own mother. Both of them were sensual and
pleasure-seeking. They recklessly ignored conventions. Perhaps if his
mother had been a man she would have been just as enamored of
wine and music as his father. The relationship between them had
ended quickly, because a man like him could not stand a woman like
her, and vice versa. In fact, married life would have been impossible
for his father, if he had not happened upon his current wife. Yasin
laughed, but his dismay at this strange idea robbed his laughter of
any delight. "I know now who I am. I'm nothing but the son of these
two sensual people. It wouldn't have been possible for me to turn
out any other way."
The next moment he asked himself whether he had been mistaken
when he neglected to invite his mother to the wedding. He wondered
about it, even though he remained convinced he had done the right
thing. His father had probably been trying to ease his conscience
when he offered a few nights before the wedding: "I think you ought
to inform your mother. If you want to, you can invite her to the
wedding party." Yasin assumed he had spoken with his tongue, not
his heart. He could not imagine that his father would want him to go
to the residence inhabited by that miserable man his mother had married
after all her many other spouses. He would not want Yasin to
PALACE WALK
try to ingratiate himself with her, inviting her to his wedding while
that man watched. Neither the wedding nor any other happiness he
could attain in this world would make him reestablish the link that
had been severed between him and that woman... that scandal...
that disgraceful memory.
At the time he had merely replied to his father, "If I truly had a
mother she would be the first person I would invite to my wedding."
Yasin suddenly noticed that the children in the courtyard were
staring at him and whispering to each other. He singled out some of
the little girls and asked them in a jovial but loud voice, "Are you
already dreaming of marriage, girls?"
He headed for the door of the women's quarters and remembered
Khadija's mocking words from the day before: "Don't let embarrassment
get the better of you tomorrow when you're with the guests.
Otherwise, they'll realize the bitter truth that it's your father who's
paying your wedding costs, your dowry, and all the expenses of the
party. Keep circulating and don't stop. Move from room to room
among your guests. Laugh with this one and talk to that one. Go
upstairs and come back down. Inspect the kitchen. Yell and shout.
Perhaps you'll make people think you're really the man of the evening
and its master."
Yasin laughed as he went on his way. He intended to follow her
sarcastic advice. He strutted among the guests with his tall and massive
body. He was exceptionally elegant, attractive, good-looking,
and in the prime of his youth. He went back and forth and up and
down, even if there was no need for it. All this activity dispelled any
doubts he might have had. His soul became immersed in the charms
of the evening.
When Yasin thought about his bride, a bestial tremor passed
through his body. Then he remembered the last night, a month before,
that he had spent with the lute player Zanuba. He had informed
her of his impending marriage and told her he was saying goodbye
to her.
She had screamed in a sham rage, "You son of a bitch!... You
kept the news secret until you got what you wanted. The boat you're
leaving on is better than the one coming here. You deserve to be
beaten a thousand times with a slipper, you bastard." Zanuba no
longer meant anything to him, nor did any other woman. He had
lowered the curtain on that side of his life forever. He might return
to drinking, because he thought his desire for that would not die, but
as for women, he could not imagine his eyes straying when he had
30o
Naguib Mahfou
a beauty at his disposal. His bride was a renewable resource and a
spring of water for the wild thirst that had troubled his existence so
frequently.
Yasin went on to imagine what life had in store for him that night
and the following ones, for the next month and the next year, for the
rest of his life. His face was radiant with delight at his good fortune.
Fahmy noticed that with an eye filled with curiosity, calm happiness,
and not a little regret.
Kamal, who had been into everything, suddenly appeared. With
joy at the good news visible in his face, he informed Yasin, "The
caterer told me that there's more dessert than will be needed for the
guests. There'll be lots left over."
With the addition of Zaynab, the coffee hour acquired a new face,
one glowing with youth and the joy of being married. The three
rooms adjoining the parents' bedroom on the top floor had been outfitted
with the bride's furniture. Otherwise, Yasin's marriage brought
little change to the general organization of the house in terms of
either domestic politics or household management. The residents remained
subservient in every sense of the word to the authority and
will of al-Sayyid Ahmad. Housekeeping remained a subsidiary department
under the direction of the mother, just as it had been before
the marriage. The real change was emotional and mental, and it was
easily observable. It would have been hard for Zaynab to occupy the
position of wife of the eldest son, or for her and her husband to unite
together with the other members of the family in a single household,
unless there had been a significant development of the family's emotions
and sentiments.
The mother regarded Zaynab with a mixture of hope and caution.
What sort of person was this girl who was destined to live with her
for a long time, possibly for the rest of her life? What was she hiding
behind her tender smile? On the whole, she welcomed the girl the
way a landlord greets a new tenant, warily hoping for the best.
Khadija, notwithstanding the flattering comments she and Zaynab
exchanged, began to focus on Zaynab her penetrating eyes, which
were naturally inclined toward sarcasm and suspicion. She probed for
defects and shortcomings with an eagerness inspired by her resentment
and hidden annoyance against Zaynab for joining the household
and marrying her brother. When Zaynab stayed in her chambers the
first few days after the marriage, Khadiia asked her mother in the
oven room, "Do you suppose the oven room isn't good enough for
her?"
Although her mother found some relief for her own anxious
thoughts in Khadija's attack on Zaynab, she defended the girl and
replied, "Be patient. She's still a bride starting out on a new life."
In a tone revealing her disapproval, Khadija asked, "Who decreed
that we should be servants for brides?"
Naguib Mafifoug
Her mother asked, as though putting the question to herself,
"Would you prefer her to have her own kitchen?"
Khadija cried out in protest, "If the money were her father's and
not my father's, that would be all right. But I think she ought to
work with us."
A week after the wedding when Zaynab decided to assume some
of the tasks in the oven room, Khadija's heart did not welcome this
step toward cooperation. She began to observe the bride's work with
critical attention to detail and told her mother, "She hasn't come to
assist you but to exercise what she may claim is her right." Khadija
would remark sarcastically, "We hear so frequently about the Iffat
family and how elite they are. They don't eat what other people
do Have you found anything extraordinary about her cooking?"
One day Zaynab suggested that she would make a "Circassian"
chicken dish with hazelnut sauce, since it was a favorite at her father's
table. That was the first time this Circassian dish was served in al
Sayyid Ahmad's home, where it garnered everyone's admiration, and
most especially Yasin's. Their mother felt a twinge of jealousy. Khadija
became frantic and made fun of it: "They said, 'Circassian,' and
we said, 'The longer a teacher lives, the more he learns,' but what
did we see? lice and sauce strategically arranged and a taste that's
neither here nor there. It's like a bride who's shown to the bridegroom
in her wedding procession, splendidly attired, with glittering
jewels, but when she takes off her gown, she's just an ordinary girl
predictably composed of flesh, bones, and blood."
Scarcely two weeks after the wedding Khadija said in the hearing
of her mother, Fahmy, and Kamal that although the bride had a fair
complexion and a moderate share of good looks, she was just as dull
as her Circassian chicken. She said that even though she was then
mastering the dish with her customary proficiency.
Some comments escaped from Zaynab--innocently, since the time
for malice had not yet arrived--that stirred up their thoughts and
cast a shadow of doubt over her. Whenever an opportunity arose she
bragged about her Turkish origin, although she did so politely and
graciously. She also enjoyed telling them what she had seen when
she rode in her father's carriage and accompanied him to the gardens
or other places of innocent recreation. All this talk startled and
alarmed the mother. She was amazed by that kind of life, which she
was hearing about for the first time. She had not thought such things
possible and privately disapproved of this strange freedom more than
words could tell. Zaynab's pride in her Turkish origin, no matter how
PALACE WALK
JO3
polite and innocent, displeased Amina a great deal, because despite
her humble and unobtrusive character, she was very proud of her
father and her husband. She felt that because of them she had attained
the highest possible rank, but she suppressed her reactions. Zaynab
always received her full attention and a polite smile.
If the mother's desire to keep the peace had not been so strong,
Khadija would have exploded angrily with unfortunate results. She
revealed her resentment in more covert ways that were not a threat
to the peace. For example, since she could not openly state her opinion
about the carriage rides, she exaggerated the way she showed her
astonishment. Gazing at the face of the speaker, she would cry out,
"Oh, my goodness!" She might strike her breast and exclaim, "The
Дата добавления: 2015-09-29; просмотров: 21 | Нарушение авторских прав
| <== предыдущая лекция | | | следующая лекция ==> |