The Cairo Trilogy: Palace Walk, Palace of Desire, Sugar Street by Naguib Mahfouz
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 clappingq from all the rest, but that was no easier than distinguishing the sou ad 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. Ali looked around at their faces and, raising his hand to hishead, 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, “Should we leave you alone on a night like this? Do you know who your friends are until you're in need?”
Al-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.
Al-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.”
Al-Sayyid Ahmad's anxious and ambivalent feelings found expression in the critical attitude he adopted toward Khalil Shaw-kat, 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 friendsrnp 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. Al-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 acknowledgement of Khalil's qualities had made it possible for the marriage to take place. His search for Khalil's defectshelped 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 hisheart 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. Khalil 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.
In the women's quarters, intoxication had gained firm control over the 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. Arnina was too shy to utter a word. She began to stare at the entertainer's face with anxiety and disapproval. When the performer 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. Al-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 fel
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 right. 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 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. JVly father went to paradise and its delights while I was fated to adopt the epithetshe 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 room. 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 jokes 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 Irind 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 Hassuna 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 hundred there had been. Then she turned to ask her tambourine player, “How many, Fino?”
The musician quickly responded, “Plus five like 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 hishead 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 Ibrahim 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?”
Ibrahi m Shawkat took her arm and smilingly escorted her to the reception room. Meanwhile Fahmy and Yasin exchanged an astonished and incredulous glance. Their eyes followed Ibrahim and the entertainer until they disappeared behind the door.
Al-Sayyid Ahmad 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 Ahmad. She could not keep herself from laughing heartily. Then she asked sarcastically, “Has my visit frightened you, al-Sayyid Ahmad?”
He gestured to caution her about the people outside. He replied seriously, “Restrain yourself, Jalila. 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.”
Al-Sayyid Ahmad 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.”
Al-Sayyid Ahmad gestured to her as if to say, “Don't make the mud any wetter”. He entreated her, “God knows I'm not unhappy to see you. The only problem is, you see, the awkward situation….”
At this point, Mr. Ali tried to remind her of something she should not forget: “You lived together as lovers and parted friends. There's lothing to be revenged. But the women of his family are upstairs and his sons are outside.”
Continuing to try to infuriate al-Sayyid Ahmad, 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.”
“Jalil
“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. In a calm voice as serious as a judge'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 adjure 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 off, 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.”