Storm

Miramar

Naguib Mahfouz, 1967

Miramar is set in Alexandria. Alexandria is a city which occurs occasionally as a secondary locale in the novels of Naguib Mahfouz. It is not a location which Mahfouz often uses as the main setting. Mahfouz is a Cairene novelist.

In Autumn Quail (1962), Isa Ibrahim Ad-Dabbagh moves to Alexandria for a while.  ‘“I’m thinking of going to Alexandria.”’ [Autumn Quail, 12.] In The Beggar (1965), Omar al-Hamzawi takes his family for a holiday in Alexandria. This is quite normal for middle-class Cairenes. Omar takes a holiday on the doctor’s advice. ‘“Take a vacation.”’ [The Beggar, 1.]

Mansour Bahy, one of the characters in Miramar, takes a number of trips to Cairo to see a woman called Doreya. Other than that, the whole novel takes place in Alexandria.

Mansour’s former comrades, including Doreya’s husband, have been arrested. ‘”You heard…?” “Yes, at the office. I took the two o’clock train.”’  [Miramar, 3.]

Miramar is the name of the pension in which the novel is set. There are five residents. All of the residents are male. Two of the residents are older. The older residents are Amer Wagdi and Tolba Bey Marzuq.

Amer Wagdi is an old journalist. He is also an old Wafdist. ‘Those were the days – the glory of working for the Cause, independence, the nation!’ [Miramar, 1.]

Tolba Marzuq knows Wagdi’s work. Marzuq doesn’t approve of his politics. ‘“Yours was a good example of a fine pen serving a bad cause.”’ [1.]

Amer Wagdi has come to the Pension Miramar to die. ‘There’s not much time left; the world is changing fast and my weak eyes under their thinning white brows can no longer comprehend what they see.’ [1.]

Marzuq is a former landowner. ‘He was one of the King’s henchmen and naturally an enemy of the Wafd. I recall that his property had been put under sequestration a year ago, with all his resources confiscated, leaving only the usual allowance.’ [1.]

This dates the novel. The July Laws of 1961 were what made the July revolution of 1952 a socialist revolution. [Goldschmidt, 10.]

Under the July Laws, the maximum individual landholding was reduced from 200 to 100 feddans. A feddan is a little more than an acre. The July Laws also nationalised certain industries, including textiles.

Another resident of the pension, Sarhan al-Beheiry, works in a nationalised textile factory. Sarhan al-Beheiry introduces himself. ‘“Deputy head accountant at the Alexandria Textile Mills….”’  [1.]

The action of the novel occurs no earlier than 1962. If Mahfouz had wanted us to know it occurs later than that, he would have given us an indication. He does not.

Al-Beheiry and Bahy are younger than Wagdi and Marzuq. The fifth resident, Hosny Allam, is also a younger man. In addition there are two female characters. One is Mariana, the proprietor. The other is Zohra, who is hired as a maid.

Mariana is Greek. There is no novel of Mahfouz’s in which the Greek community is foreground. The Greeks however are often present.

In Autumn Quail, Ad-Dabbagh chooses to live in the Greek quarter. ‘…you could see Greek faces on the balconies, at the windows, and in the street. He was a stranger in a district filled with strangers… you were all strangers in a strange country.’ [Autumn Quail, 13.]

Mariana is in reduced circumstances. ‘The pension is all she has; she has to take in winter guests… at a reasonable rent, although I can retain my room in the summer only if I pay at the special summer rate for vacationers.’ [Miramar, 1.]

Zohra is a pretty countrywoman. She is often referred to, somewhat disparagingly, as a ‘fellaha’ The word means female peasant. Zohra’s prettiness is a powerful part of the dynamic of the novel. ‘I opened the judas as Madame always did and met a pair of eyes that belonged to a pretty face, a suntanned face, framed in the black scarf of a fellaha, with features full of character and an expectant look that went instantly to the heart.’  [1.]

Mahfouz does not deal with the country in his novels. He is a quintessentially metropolitan novelist. Countrywomen occur, like Nabawiyya, Said Mahran’s wife in The Thief and the Dogs (1961), when they have come to the city and become maids. ‘She was always so nicely dressed, much neater than the other servant girls, which was why she’d been known as the “Turkish lady’s maid.”’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 10.]

Zohra in Miramar and Samara in Adrift on the Nile (1966) are among Mahfouz’s most sympathetic portraits of women. Both Zohra and Samara have something more to them than sexuality.

Miramar is divided into five chapters. Each chapter is told from the perspective of one of the characters. Neither Tolba Marzuq nor either of the women have a chapter of their own. The novel is not narrated at any point from their perspective. The first chapter and the last – which is short – are both narrated from the perspective of Amer Wagdi, the elderly journalist. Wagdi was the first resident to arrive in the pension for the winter. He is one of the few people still there at the end.

Each chapter starts when the character arrives in the pension. Since they arrive within a couple of weeks of each other, there is a lot of overlap in the narrative. This allows Mahfouz to tell the same incident from different points of view. There are three incidents in particular where this happens. Each time one of the incidents is told we learn a little more.

One of the incidents is the evening when everyone gathers to listen to a concert by Umm Kulthum on the radio. ‘We did not get acquainted any further until the first Thursday of the Umm Kulthum season, when I learned from Mariana that they would join us in the evening to listen to the concert on the radio… They had ordered a kebab supper and a bottle of whisky.’ [Miramar, 1.]

Umm Kulthum was an internationally renowned Egyptian singer, songwriter, and film actress active from the 1920s to the 1970s. Her status is legendary.

The other two incidents which are narrated from multiple points of view are fights. Both the fights involve Zohra. The first fight involves Sarhan Baheiry’s other woman. ‘“I opened the door for Monsieur Sarhan…. and there was this woman following him…. Then they started fighting.”’ [1.]

Zohra and the woman fight. Zohra gets the better of it. ‘The woman suddenly turns on [Zohra], but Zohra is a magnificent fighter and punches her twice, banging the stranger each time into the wall.’ [2.]

The second is a fight between Al-Beheiry and Allam. ‘She’d… gone out to find Sarhan al-Beheiry and Hosny Allam exchanging blows in the corridor.’ [1.]

Allam has assaulted Zohra. ‘Excited with drink and desire, I throw myself at [Zohra]. She fights me off, beating my chest with her fists…. I start hitting her savagely…. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder and hear Sarhan…. “No, no, gentleman, you’ll wreck the place! I won’t stand for it!”’ [2.]

Each of the characters has been affected by the revolution. The revolution, in Mahfouz’s novels of the 1960s, is the unifying force. What also unites the younger men is that they all have a problem making a commitment to women.

Amer Wagdi has been left behind by history. In this he has something in common with both Isa Ibrahim Ad-Dabbagh and Omar al-Hamzawi, the protagonists respectively of Autumn Quail and The Beggar. The process however is different in each case.

Autumn Quail starts with the fighting in the Canal Zone and the riots in Cairo in 1952 After the fighting and the riots Ad-Dabbagh is demoted. ‘“A decree’s been issued transferring me from my position in the minister’s office to the archives.”’ [Autumn Quail, 3.]

After the July Revolution Ad-Dabbagh is purged. He is accused of corruption. ‘… [Ad-Dabbagh] was summoned to appear before the Purge Committee…. All the accusations applied to the appointments of umdas on the basis of party bias and gifts….’ [7.]

Ad-Dabbagh has lost his role. ‘“We won’t be working, whatever job we take… because we’ve no role to play.”’ [13.]

Ad-Dabbagh is used to being part of history. History has moved on. It has abandoned him. ‘“We were the vanguard of a revolution…. and now we are the debris of one!”’ [10.]

Omar al-Hamzawi in The Beggar was deeply involved in politics as a young man.  ‘”Tell me, do you remember those days of politics, demonstrations, and dreams of Utopia?”’ [The Beggar, 1.]

Now his life is meaningless. ‘Very often I’m sick of life, people, even the family…. I don’t want to think, to move or to feel. Everything is disintegrating and dying.”’ [1.]

Amer Wagdi had been powerful. ‘Amer Wagdi was someone indeed – full of favours for friends, but a man to be feared and avoided by enemies.’ [Miramar, 1.]

In this he was like Isa Ad-Dabbagh. ‘There’s been a time when he’d made several members of the [Purge] committee tremble even when his party was not in power.’ [Autumn Quail, 7.]

Wagdi, like many elderly people, perhaps, is nostalgic for the past. ‘All my friends are gone. The good old days are over…. But these are bad times. We are condemned to work with upstarts, clowns who no doubt got their training in a circus and then turned to journalism as the appropriate way to display their tricks.’ [Miramar, 1.]

Wagdi is alone. ‘“No wife, no family. And I’ve retired… I’m finished.”’ [1.]

Wagdi was once turned down as a suitor. ‘”Sir, may I ask you for your daughter’s hand?”’ [1.]

The rejection is very angry. Wagdi is rejected on religious grounds. ‘“People like you were made for hell…! Get out of this sanctified house, as Iblis was turned out of God’s grace!”’ [1.]

Iblis is Satan. Iblis was expelled from Paradise for refusing to worship Adam. The name in Arabic word is a corruption of the Greek word diavolos.

As Idris, Iblis is one of the important characters in Children of the Alley. Idris is banished by Gabalawi. The expulsion of Iblis introduces the theme of evil into the novel. ‘”Don’t you know the punishment for defying me, you fiend? Damnation to anyone who lets him back in or helps him!”’ [Children of the Alley, 1.]

We learn that Wagdi was once a student at Al Azhar, the religious university. He was expelled. We do not learn what for. ‘“My son, you were one of us. You studied in Al Azhar once. But don’t let us forget that you were expelled…. Wise men accused you of a terrible crime.”’ [Miramar, 1.]

Wagdi from time to time quotes the Qua’ran. He quotes Sura 55. ‘The Beneficent hath made known the Koran….’ [1.] Sura 55 deals with the lack of gratitude to God.

Wagdi also quotes Sura 27. ‘These are the revelations of the Scripture that maketh plain.’ [1.] Sura 27 deals with the denial of the afterlife.

Tolba asks Wagdi a question. ‘“Have you returned to the Faith?” he asked.’ [1.] We do not get an answer.

If Mahfouz wanted to tell us why Wagdi was expelled from Al Azhar he would have done. He does not. We are left with a picture of a secular person who has not so much abandoned his faith as been driven out of it.

Samara in Adrift on the Nile is very clear about the connection between lack of faith and nihilism. ‘It is also necessary that our belief has the sincerity of true religious faith, plus faith’s astonishing power to inspire acts of heroism.’ [Adrift on the Nile, 10.]

Mariana has been affected by both revolutions, the July Revolution of the Free Officers and the nationalist revolution of 1919. The nationalist revolution is a major theme of Palace Walk (1956), the first part of the Cairo Trilogy.

Mariana is bitter. ‘“Monsieur Amer, the first revolution killed my first husband. The second took my money and drove out my people. Why?”’ [Miramar, 1.]

There was a large migration of Greeks from Egypt to countries including Australia. Mariana’s claim that her people were ‘driven out’ is perhaps a little melodramatic. The migration started before the revolution of 1952 and continued well after it. [Wikipedia.]

Mariana’s first husband is ‘the Captain’. ‘There is the Captain’s portrait, in full dress, heavy whiskered – her first husband, killed in the Revolution of 1919.’ [Miramar, 1.]

Wagdi is a little puzzled about how Mariana lost her money. ‘”Haven’t you heard of the stock market crash…? That’s when I lost all the money I made in the Second World War.”’ [Miramar, 1.]

It is fairly clear that Mariana made her money from brothel-keeping. ‘”You never saw anything like the generosity of His Britannic Majesty’s officers!”’ [Miramar, 1.]

Tolba Marzuq has lost his land. ‘“He had a thousand feddans.”’ [Miramar, 1.]

Marzuq blames the Wafdists for his misfortunes. ‘“One man is responsible for this…. Saad Zaghloul.”’ [Miramar, 1.]

Marzuq has become paranoid. ‘[Tolba] was suspicious of strangers, certain that they knew his history and the circumstances of his ordeal….’ [Miramar, 1.]

Marzuq is not even a patriot any more. ‘”The Americans should have taken control of the whole world when they had the secret of the atom bomb all to themselves.”’ [Miramar, 1.]

The reference to the atom bomb here is only incidental. In Children of the Alley atomic weapons are an important theme. Arafa the magician develops a magic bottle.  It is a symbol both of high explosive and the atom bomb. ‘”Should I consider a man with a weapon like yours, that makes clubs a joke, a poor man? …I want a great deal of [the magic bottle]. …you’ll be able to work your magic under my protection, and you will have everything you ever wanted.”’ [Children of the Alley, 105.]

Hosny Allam is intensely resentful of the revolution. ‘Revolution? Why not? To put you where you belong, you progeny of whores, to take all your money and push your noses in the mud.’ [Miramar, 2.]

What he seems to resent most is the loss of status of his class as a whole. It has made him cynical. ‘So what if my class has left me to the waves and the boat sinking? How marvellous to be loyal to nothing, to be free, completely free, free of claims from class, country or any duty whatever.’ [Miramar, 2.]

His personal loss of status has led to him being turned down as a suitor. ‘“You’re just mad because Mervat turned you down.”’ [Miramar, 2.]

His property hasn’t done him any good. ‘“No education,” she said, “and a hazardous hundred feddans.”’ [Miramar, 2.]

Mansour Bahy has been affected in a different way. He is a communist. ‘No one guessed what [Tolba Marzuq] meant to me: old recollections, dreams of bloodshed, of classes in conflict….’ [Miramar, 3.]

Before the July Revolution, the communists and the Muslim Brotherhood were both considered a threat. ‘”He assured me that the only alternatives to the Revolution were the Communists or the Brotherhood.’” [5.]

Bahy’s brother is a police official. Mariana is very impressed. ‘“Your brother is a very distinguished police officer indeed.”’ [Miramar, 3.]

Bahy’s brother has forced him to leave his comrades and relocate to Alexandria. ‘“So I’m to stay prisoner here in Alexandria, to spend the rest of my life trying to justify myself.”’ [Miramar, 3.]

Bahy is a weak man. This is symbolised by his somewhat effeminate appearance. ‘I was charmed by his fine, delicate features….’ [Miramar, 3.]

Sarhan al-Beheiry is an opportunist. Before the revolution Al-Beheiry was active in the Wafd. ‘We’d both been members of Wafdist student committees….’ [4.]

After the revolution Al-Beheiry turned his coat. ‘“Of course. I was a member of the Liberation Organisation and then the National Union. Now I’m on the Committee of Twenty and I’m also an elected member of the company board, representing the staff.”’ [1.]

What makes Al-Beheiry vulnerable is greed. ‘“What’s life worth without your own villa, your own car and your own woman?”’ [4.]

Al-Beheiry gets involved in a plot to steal yarn from the factory where he works. ‘”The goods are up for grabs. You can imagine what a truckload of yarn can bring on the black market. It’s a safe operation and we can repeat it four times a month.”’ [4.]

Zohra is less concretely affected by the revolution than the other characters. She has nothing to lose. ‘“She used to rent half a feddan and work it herself….”’ [1.]

Symbolically we can imagine Zohra is more affected by the revolution than anyone, and in a more positive way. It may be the revolution that emboldened Zohra to resist the oppressive social conditions of life for women in the countryside. ‘”She ran away…. Her grandfather wanted her to marry an old man….”’ [1.]

It may have been the revolution which gave Zohra hope. “I love the land and the village, but I hate the misery…. Here is where love is. Education. Cleanliness. Hope.” [1.]

Zohra is determined to better herself. She decides to get an education. ‘”She’s arranged it with a schoolmistress who lives on the fifth floor. A young teacher who’ll give her private lessons.”’ [1.]

Zohra sticks to her plans even when her romantic hopes are dashed. ‘”What are your plans for the future?” “Just what they were….”’ [5.]

Womanising is as important as the revolution in Miramar. All the young men are womanisers. Amer Wagdi and Tolba Marzuq are not excluded. They were both womanisers in the past. Mariana was once Tolba Marzuq’s mistress. ‘”…are you back on the old terms with Mariana?”’ [1.]

Amer Wagdi had a reputation. ‘”Have you forgotten all your old escapades? The scandal sheets of the thirties were full of them; your chasing every skirt – or rather melaya – in Sharia Muhammad Ali.’” [1.]

The melaya is the black, head to foot garment worn for modesty by Egyptian women. It is used as a prop by belly dancers in Alexandria in immodest dancing. Dancers in clubs, like singers, were considered loose women.

Womanising is a persistent theme in the novels that Naguib Mahfouz wrote in the sixties. It is usually associated with lack of meaning. The journalist Samara in Adrift on the Nile thinks of lack of meaning as absurdity. ‘Absurdity is the loss of meaning, the meaning of anything.’ [Adrift on the Nile, 10.]

Mahfouz introduces the existentialist term commitment. This makes it quite clear he is thinking of absurdity in the context of that ideology. In Adrift on the Nile a group of friends meet on a houseboat to smoke hashish. One of them says, in a comment on an article by Samara, ‘”I thought that the article smacked of ‘commitment’.”’ [8.]

In Autumn Quail, Isa Ibrahim Ad-Dabbagh has lost his sense of being an actor in history. ‘“We won’t be working, whatever job we take… because we’ve no role to play.”’ [Autumn Quail, 13.]

Ad-Dabbagh moves a prostitute into his flat in Alexandria. ‘The cheap cotton flannel dress, the defiant look untinged by reserve or haughtiness, and the very fact that she was walking alone at night, all these things showed that she was a Corniche girl.’ [14.]

Ad-Dabbagh treats the woman badly. When she gets pregnant he throws her out. ‘“You poisonous little snake!” he yelled at her. “Is this how you pay me back for giving you a home? …Don’t let me see your face from now on, or ever again.”’ [16.]

In The Beggar Omar al-Hamzawi loses his sense of meaning. ‘”I suppose I could still work, but I have no desire to…. Very often I’m sick of life, people, even the family…. I don’t want to think, to move or to feel. Everything is disintegrating and dying.”’ [The Beggar, 1.]

Al-Hamzawi tries to seduce a singer. ‘…for a moment, bewitched by the night’s charms, he was restored to his lost youth.’ [The Beggar, 7.]

The singer disappears. This is never quite satisfactorily explained. It doesn’t have to be. ‘“Where’s Margaret?” “…She’s gone.” “Where?” “Abroad.”’ [7.]

Al-Hamzawi takes up with a dancer. ‘…a magnificent statuesque woman with wide-set languid eyes and a high forehead which gave her face a certain aristocratic distinction.’ [8.]

The dancer leaves him. “I’m going away…. I don’t want anything…. What’s sad is that I’ve really loved you.”’ [13.]

Al-Hamzawi’s womanising becomes indiscriminate. ‘A brunette dancer at the New Paris attracted him, so he went after her…. The brunette left with him, enticed by money…. Every night he picked up a woman, from one club or another, sometimes from the streets.’ [13.]

Womanising in Autumn Quail and The Beggar is a response to loss of meaning. It is little more than a distraction. It does not create meaning.

The womanising of each of the young men in Miramar is different. The common factor is an incapacity for commitment. Womanising is an existential condition.

Hosny Allam, like Omar al-Hamzawi, has recourse to prostitutes. ‘I pay a visit to an old procuress at Chatby; she brings me a girl who isn’t bad to begin the day with.’ [2.]

Allam does so on an industrial scale. He is completely indifferent to his companions. ‘I go to the Metro cinema for the matinee and chat up a girl at the buffet during the intermission. We lunch at Omar Khayyam, then have a short siesta in her little flat at Ibrahimiya. By the time I get back to the pension I have forgotten her name.’ [2.]

Al-Hamzawi ends up seeing a different woman every night. Allam sees several women on the same day. ‘I drop in on the Maltese madam at Cleopatra and ask her to call in as many of her girls as she can.’ [2.]

Allam’s recklessness is symbolised by his excessively fast driving. ‘I drive around in my Ford, aimless except to satisfy a craving for speed.’

Allam is like the actor Ragab al-Qadi in Adrift on the Nile. ‘…they set off, faster and faster, until they were travelling at an insane speed.’ [Adrift on the Nile, 15.]

Ragab hits a pedestrian and kills him. ‘Suddenly a horrifying scream rang out. [Anis] opened his eyes, shaking, to see a black shape flying through the air.’ [15.]

Allam gets involved with Sarhan al-Beheiry’s discarded mistress. ‘… I emerge from behind the screen and take the strange woman firmly by the wrist. I pull her gently out, apologizing and trying to calm her down.’ [Miramar, 2.]

Safeya works at a night-club. The female entertainers are part-time prostitutes. ‘“I work at the Genevoise.”’ [2]

Allam is supposed to be looking for a business opportunity. ‘I drive around making plans for my new business.’ [2]

Safeya finds him just the opportunity he needs. ‘“There’s a wonderful opening for you…! The Genevoise. The owner wants to sell out.”’ [2]

Allam, like Saber in The Search, is on the point of becoming a pimp. Saber’s mother, like Mariana, is a brothel-keeper. She has prepared Saber for no other life. ‘”There’s nothing for me to do but become a ruffian, a hustler or a pimp.”’ [The Search, 1.]

It is in the case of Mansour al-Bahy that lack of commitment is perhaps most clearly existential in nature. Al-Bahy expects portentous events. ‘I said to myself that only a disaster, huge in scale, something on the order of a colossal earthquake, could bring back harmony.’ [3.]

Al-Bahy sees his future symbolised in the dramatic winter weather. ‘I watched the storm from behind the glass of my windowpanes until it finally cleared. This drama of the elements touched a sympathetic cord in my inmost heart. I had a premonition that forecast, in terms still incomprehensible to me, my personal destiny.’ [3.]

In addition to being unable to commit to a relationship with a woman Al-Bahy has also been unable to sustain a political commitment. ‘“Perhaps it was wise to stop working for a cause so uncongenial to you.”’ [3.]

Al-Bahy is aware of the effect that nihilism has on him. ‘I felt myself lapsing into anxious depression. “I’m sure the ideal is to believe and to put your beliefs into action. To have nothing to believe in is to be lost forever.”’ [3.]

Al-Bahy was previously in love with Doreya, the wife of his comrade Fawzi. Fawzi is now in jail. Al-Bahy renews his suit. ‘“Would you forgive me if I couldn’t help myself… and told you… that I love you now as I loved you in the past…?” “Mansour!”’ [3.]

Al-Bahy and Mrs Fawzi begin a relationship. It does not assuage Al-Bahy’s existential anguish. ‘When she stopped resisting and finally surrendered herself, it’s true, I was overjoyed. But afterward I was torn by anxiety, obsessed with the morbid idea that love was the road to death and that my own excesses would destroy me.’ [3.]

Mrs Fawzi sees Al-Bahy’s difficulty as a defect of character. ‘“You’ve always been so diffident….”’ [3.]

Mrs Fawzi cannot bear her loneliness. ‘“But I’m all by myself…. I can’t stand it anymore.”’ [3.]

Al-Bahy reacts as a lover should. “It just stands to simple reason: we should either separate or get you your divorce.” [3.]

Like all the other residents Al-Bahy is interested in Zohra. When Al-Beheiry betrays Zohra for Aleya, the schoolteacher, Al-Bahy overidentifies. ‘“That’s none of your business,” Sarhan was shouting. “I’ll marry as I like. I’ll marry Aleya….” I spat in his face. “There,” I shouted. “I spit on you and the likes of you. Traitors!”’ [3.]

Mrs Fawzi comes unexpectedly to visit Al-Bahy in Alexandria. ‘A woman was sitting near my desk. It was Doreya…. “I got a message from Fawzi…. He’s freed me to do what I like with my future.”’ [3.]

He betrays her. “Doreya. This kind offer of his. Don’t accept it.” [3.]

Mrs Fawzi perceives there is something seriously wrong. ‘“I’m beginning to think you’re mentally deranged.”’ [3.]

Al-Bahy’s response is glib. ‘“Never get too close to a man who hates himself.”’ [3.]

Mrs Fawzi is crushed. ‘Her staring eyes reflected her inner collapse…. it was clear to me that this broken creature I watched disappearing into oblivion was my first and probably my last and only love.’ [3.]

In his over-identification with Zohra Al-Bahy sees himself as the one who has been betrayed. ‘Here was Zohra, robbed of both honour and pride. Yes, I was looking into a mirror.’ [3.]

Al-Bahy decides to murder Al-Beheiry. ‘“I have no life if I don’t kill you.”’ [3.]

In Al-Bahy’s lack of any real motive, this is reminiscent of the acte gratuit that is referred to in Adrift on the Nile. One might find a killer without a motive in a novel such as L’Etranger, but in real life?’ [Adrift on the Nile, 7.]

The psychology is very similar to that of Said Mahran in The Thief and the Dogs. ‘But unless I settle my account with [his wife and his former associate], life will have no taste, because I shall not forget the past.’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 4]

Al-Bahy follows Al-Beheiry. He forgets to take the weapon he intended to use. ‘Had I forgotten to take the scissors…? I kicked him in the ribs, once, twice, brutally, then I was kicking him like a lunatic….’ [Miramar, 3.]

The next morning, unprompted, Al-Bahy confesses. “I killed Sarhan al-Beheiry,” said Mansour…. “I’m going to the police myself.” [5.]

Mariana and Amer Wagdi agree, more or less, with Mrs Fawzi. ‘“He’s mad,” said Mariana, panic-stricken. “No, he’s sick,” I said.’ [5.]

Al-Beheiry is more of a conventional womaniser than Al-Bahy. He only ever leaves one woman for another.

Al-Beheiry is fed up with the woman he is living with. ‘“We’ve been living together for over a year,” Safeya said in her nagging fashion.’ [4.]

He spots Zohra. ‘She walked on in quick straight steps and when she turned in at the Miramar building she looked back quickly: honey-brown eyes, exquisite but rigidly noncommittal.’ [4.]

He makes enquiries about Zohra from the newspaper seller. ‘“She works at the Pension Miramar,” he said indifferently.’ [4.]

Unlike the other tenants, Al-Beheiry moves into the pension Miramar specifically because of Zohra. ‘”I’d like a room for a long stay.”’ [4.]

He makes excuses to his girlfriend. ‘“We’ll have to change our way of life…. I may even have to live in some dirty little hotel or noisy pension….” We’re though, I thought.’ [4.]

Zohra falls in love with Al-Beheiry. She is however quite rightly suspicious of him. ‘“I don’t trust you…. I love you… but you don’t really love me…. You look down on me, just the way they all do.”’ [4.]

Zohra is very aware of inequality. “Do you consider me your equal as a human being?” [4.]

Al-Beheiry’s discarded girlfriend is offended by Zohra’s social status. Since Safeya is a part-time prostitute, this is perhaps ironic. ‘Safeya stepped back and looked at Zohra in surprise…. “A servant. How dare you…?”’ [4.]

Zohra gives as good as she got. ‘Zohra slapped her across the mouth. Safeya hit back, but the girl was too strong for her…. Everybody was awake, doors were opened…..’ [4.]

Al-Beheiry makes difficulties about marrying Zohra. “… marriage would cause difficulties for me, with my family and at work too.” [4.]

For Al-Beheiry, marriage is about social advancement. ‘What’s the good of going into [marriage] if it doesn’t give me a push up the social ladder?’ [4.]

Al-Beheiry thinks that in his willingness to live with Zohra without being married he is being generous. ‘She’s really mulish. It hasn’t been as easy as I expected…. If she consents to live with me, I’m ready to give up the prospect of marriage, including my plans for advancement through a suitable match.’ [4.]

Al-Beheiry notices that Zohra’s teacher has the qualities that Zohra lacks. ‘[The teacher] is quite good-looking; she is also smartly dressed, a career girl…. If only Zohra could have found herself in the other girl’s world, with all its potentialities.’ [4.]

He pursues her. ‘I say hello and invite her for a cup of tea.… we meet at the café at the Amir cinema, then go in together to see the film…. I realise she’s looking of a husband and I weigh it all up cold-bloodedly….’ [4.]

Zohra discovers Al-Beheiry’s deception. She is outraged. ‘“I saw the two of you with my own eyes…. The teacher…. That whore, that man-hunter…. Why does God make sneaks like you…?” She spits in my face…. She spits at me again…. She leaps at me, slapping my face with unbelievable strength.’ [4.]

Zohra confronts Aleya’s family. They too are outraged. In their case it is very much about social status. ‘“Imagine a housemaid taking us to task like that!”’ [4.]

The plot in which Al-Beheiry is involved unravels. ‘“Listen, Sarhan, it’s gone badly wrong…. The driver wanted the whole lot for himself. They got him and he’s going to give everything away.”’ [4.]

In short order Al-Beheiry has lost the woman he was supposed to marry, the woman he left her for, his chance of wealth and – very probably – his freedom. He opts for suicide. ‘“A razor, please.”’ [4.]

It is suicide that is the cause of death, not a kicking. ‘The post mortem report showed the cause of death to be a razor cut across the arteries of the left wrist, not a beating with a shoe, as the alleged murder had claimed…. when the connection between the victim and the incident of the truckload of stolen yarn came out, the hypothesis of suicide was confirmed.’ [4.]

Al-Bahy’s attack on Al-Beheiry was completely futile. His confession was pointless. ‘“[Mansour] is an excellent young man…. but he suffers from some secret malady of which he must be cured.”’ [4.]

Amer Wagdi has religion. He quotes Sura 24. Sura 24 includes among other matters the punishment for adultery. It is also known as Sura An-Nur because of the reference to light. ‘”Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth.”’ [4.]

Zohra has her ambitions for mobility. ‘”When I learn to read and write,” [Zohra] said thoughtfully, “I’ll try to learn some profession. Like dressmaking perhaps.”’ [1.]

No-one else has anything very much. The nihilism of the Egyptian intelligentsia, in Miramar as well as in Adrift on the Nile, is destructive and self-destructive.

That is a working definition of evil.

 

 

 

Bibliographical Note

Goldschmidt, Arthur Jr., Modern Egypt: the Formation of a Nation State

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Faint hope

The Search

Naguib Mahfouz, 1964

Published in 1964, The Search is in some ways unlike the other novels of the 1960s. Unlike them, it does not deal with politics. In particular, it does not deal with the politics of the July Revolution and of Arab Socialism.What The Search deals with are themes that recur in the novels of Naguib Mahfouz: crime and sexual splitting. It also deals with isolation.

Crime is also important in the novels of the 1940s. Crime is a theme in particular in Midaq Alley (1943) and The Beginning and the End (1950).

In Midaq Alley, Dr Booshy, the fake dentist, and his partner in crime, Zaita, rob graves. [Midaq Alley, 27.] That is how Dr Booshy obtains the gold for the dentures he makes cheaply for poor people. Zaita create cripples. [7.]

In The Beginning and the End the oldest brother, Hassan, is a thug and a drug peddler. He is introduced to this work by Ali Sabri, a conceited and unsuccessful musician. ‘“The band will be working in this coffeehouse,” [Ali Sabri] said… “On every corner there is a thug…. And who is the right person to deal with them? You. There is also the important trade in narcotics…. And who’s the right person to deal with it? You again,” Ali Sabri said.’ [The Beginning and the End, 37.]

Sexual splitting, the other main theme in The Search, is also important in the novels of the 1940s. It is the dominant theme, although it is handled in very different ways, in both Khan al-Khalili (1945) and The Mirage (1948).
In The Mirage, Kamil cannot consummate his marriage with Rabab, whom he idealises. ‘… [Rabab] was the epitome of ideal womanhood.’ [The Mirage, 38.]

By contrast he finds it easy to have sex with Inayat, his mistress, who by contrast is rather coarse. ‘…there was a boldness in her gaze that caused me to look away bashfully….. She looked to be over forty, and … she was uglier than she was pretty.’ [51.]

The novels written and published in the 1940s are set in the 1930s. There is a hint in the text that this is the period in which The Search is set.
The hint takes the form of a reference to war. ‘“But this impending war? Won’t it guarantee our cotton?”’ [The Search, Chapter 4.]

The clue is in the word ‘impending’. The Arab-Israeli wars and the Suez invasion came as a shock. It is the Second World War that was anticipated.
Curiously this reference to a war is the only clue that allows The Search to be dated. In most of the novels of the 1940s and 1960s Mahfouz is very careful to allow us to date the action quite precisely. We can date these novels to the year, if not the month.

Cairo Modern, for example, is dated by references to ‘the constitution of 1930-35….‘ [Cairo Modern, 6] and ‘The Nazi Party’s successful rise to power….’ [41] to a few months in 1932 and 1933.

The Thief and the Dogs, as another example, is similarly dated by references to historical events. It is not dated to quite such a narrow window. The Free Officers coup occurs while Said was serving four years in prison. The Free Officers staged their coup in 1952. The action of the novel therefore occurs between 1952 and 1956.

In The Search, it seems, Mahfouz was equally careful not to allow us to date the action. This is an indication that, as in The Mirage, we are dealing with personal rather than political matters.

The Mirage is set in the modern period. There are trams, and Rabab works as a teacher. It is likely to be set before the Second World War. There are horse-drawn carriages as well as motor taxis.

It is only the politics of Dr Rida, Kamil’s rival, which allow us to date the novel with more precision than that. ‘“Aren’t you still a radical Wafdist? You were thrown into prison once for the sake of the Wafd party!”’ [The Mirage, 46.] It is most likely that Dr Rida was imprisoned under the authoritarian Ismail Sidqi, who was Prime Minister from 1930 to 1933. This is not however the only time that a radical Wafdist could have been thrown into prison by the government of a rival party.

The careful avoidance of precise dating also indicates, I think, that The Search is not realism in an altogether simple sense. The protagonist’s relationships with contrasting women and with his absent father have symbolic value.

For some commentators The Search represents ‘…mankind’s search for metaphysical truth….’ [El-Enany, 5.]

I disagree. I agree with El-Enany, however, that ‘…of all the 1960s novels, this is the one with the least direct bearing on the political reality of the day.’ [El-Enany, 5.]

I also agree that Naguib Mahfouz is perfectly capable of describing a metaphysical quest if he wants to. In The Journey of Ibn Fattouma (1983) he does exactly that. Interestingly, like The Search and The Thief and the Dogs, The Journey of Ibn Fattouma ends with death.

What I think is going on in The Search, however, is exactly what I think is going on in The Thief and the Dogs (1961). In The Thief and the Dogs Said Mahran is quite incapable of responding to what the Sufi Sheikh is trying to teach him. The Sheikh knows this. ‘“You seek the walls, not the heart….. You seek a roof, not an answer.”’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 2.]

The only teacher to whom Said Mahran can respond is his political mentor, Rauf Ilwan. ‘…his whole life had been no more than the mere acting out of ideas that had come from that man….’ [3.]

Saber in The Search is materialistic. He is even more of a nihilist than Said Mahran, who at least believed in the revolution. In that way Saber is more like Mahgub Abd al-Da’im in Cairo Modern (1945).

Mahgub Abd al-Da’im is described as amoral [Cairo Modern, 31] and a nihilist [7.] His friends call him an anarchist. [10.] Al-Da’im is completely anti-social. ‘His rejection of society and its values was dazzlingly complete.’ [40.]

Saber, unlike Al-Da’im, is not an intellectual. Saber believes in money. ‘”Very little of the price of the house is left…. I must either work or kill.’” [The Search, 11.]

He also believes in sex, which he calls ‘love’. ‘The nights he spent in passion with Karima.’ [7.]

Saber believes in very little else. He has a desire to resist the pull of his life of crime. ‘He needs [his father] not only for his fortune but out of fear of his own dark, tainted past. A life of crime.’ [8.] That desire is the limit of his idealism.

We are given nothing more than hints about Saber’s ‘life of crime’. In this The Search is like The Thief and the Dogs and Autumn Quail (1962). There is very little back story. That is another way in which The Search is something other than conventional realism.

Isolation is also a theme in The Thief and the Dogs and Autumn Quail. In both cases the event that triggers the isolation of the respective protagonists is the July Revolution of 1952.

Said Mahran in The Thief and the Dogs is isolated by a combination of personal and political circumstances. Mahran is a professional thief with a revolutionary background. Most of his associates are those like his friend Ilish, his wife and the owner of the café he frequents, who share his criminal milieu. The only person from his revolutionary past he appears to have kept in touch with is his former mentor, Rauf Ilwan.

Mahran is betrayed to the police by Ilish. Mahran is sent to prison. While he is there the July 27 Revolution takes place. Mahran loses the revolutionary justification for his crimes.

Mahran’s mentor embraces the revolution. He does well as a journalist. He betrays the revolutionary ideals that he and Mahran once shared.
Mahran becomes isolated. He goes mad. He attempts to kill both Ilish and Ilwan. He fails. Both times he kills an innocent third party.

Mahran’s homicidal madness alienates even the woman who loves him. He dies alone, in a shootout with the police. He is hiding in a cemetery. The dogs are barking.

Isa al-Dabbagh in Autumn Quail is isolated partly by his ambition. Despite his youth, he has risen high in the civil service. He is a party man.
Isa has little feeling for people. At one point in the novel, he lives with a prostitute. At another, he marries. He has no feeling for either woman.

Isa is demoted after the riots in the Canal Zone. He is purged and pensioned off after the July revolution. He could get a job. He chooses solitude.
Without the party and the ministry Isa is nothing. He has no role. He has been cast aside by history.

Like Said Mahran and Saber, Isa reaches despair. Isa however is an educated man and not without resources. He does not stoop to murder. He does not die.

Isa and Said Mahran are brought to isolation and despair by the revolution. There are other factors, but the revolution is the final cause.

Saber is brought to isolation and despair by the death of his mother. There are other factors in his case too. In particular, there is Saber’s relationship with his mother. She has indulged him. In doing so she has unfitted him for any other life than that of a pimp. ‘“May God have mercy on her soul. She loved you and ruined you for any other kind of life.”’ [2.]

It is the excessive closeness to his mother and the absence of his father that are the root cause of Saber’s sexual splitting. ‘Leave Elham. She’s like your father, full of promise but only a dream. Karima is just an extension of your mother. She represents pleasure and crime.’ [8.]

In The Mirage, similarly, there is a controlling mother and an absent father. This is also presented as the cause of sexual splitting.

Kamil Ru’ba Laz’s mother has been abandoned by her husband. She overcompensates through her relationship with her son. She is possessive, and over-protective.

Kamil blames his relationship with his mother for his sexual difficulties. Kamil also blames his mother for his anxiety, and his sense of failure. ‘My mother was the source of these torments. Yet, she was also my sole refuge from them….’ [The Mirage, 4.]

The novel is resolved, to the extent it is resolved at all, by the death of Kamil’s wife Rabab in a bungled abortion. ‘“If the cause of death were known, the illegal operation you were performing would have come to light…. the patient didn’t die from the first perforation. Rather, you killed her when you made a hole in the peritoneum.”’ [63.]

Death has no spiritual significance here. It is pure melodrama.
In Khan al-Khalili Ahmad Akif does not have the same unhealthy closeness to his mother, nor has his father abandoned the family. Ahmad’s father was however pensioned off from civil service very young.

Ahmad has had to step up. He gave up his chance of higher education to give his younger brother a chance. What Ahmad has in common with Kamil is the sense of failure, and the crippling anxiety.

Ahmad ‘…had been compelled to abandon his studies after his high-school graduation…. The major reason for the decision was that his father had been pensioned off before he had even reached the age of forty…. Ahmad had been forced to terminate his studies and take a minor administrative post in order to provide for his shattered family and support his two younger brothers.’ [Khan al-Khalili, 2.]

The sexual splitting is dramatised through Ahmad’s relationship with his playboy younger brother, Rushdi. They both fall in love with the same girl. Rushdi is successful. Ahmad hesitates.

The novel is resolved, once again, through death. Rushdi dies of tuberculosis. In this case also, death has no spiritual significance.
In The Search, sexual splitting is dramatised through Saber’s simultaneous involvement with two women. Karima represents passion. Elham represents love.

Both women are very much involved, though in different ways, with Saber’s search for his father. Saber meets Karima at the seedy hotel he chooses when he arrives in Alexandria. ‘In the middle of the corridor stood the reception desk presided over by a seated old man, and beside him stood a woman. What a woman!’ [The Search, 2.]

Saber meets Elham at the newspaper office where he goes to place an advertisement about his father. ‘He greeted [the woman] and asked for the advertising department. “Come with me, I’m going there myself.”’ [3.]
Elham becomes very involved with the search. Saber does not tell her the truth. ‘“He’s my brother,” he lied.’ [4.]

Karima is less interested in the search. She has a purpose for Saber. ‘“When I saw you ten days ago I said to myself, this is it …this is the man I’ve been waiting for.”’ [5.]

Both Elham and Karima, in different ways, offer Saber money. Elham offers Saber her savings so that he can set up in business and marry her. ‘“I haven’t wasted a minute…. The capital you need… is now available…. All that I’ve saved for the future. Also some of the jewellery I never wear.”’ [14.]

Karima offers Saber her husband’s money. ‘“But let me tell you that money is not a problem…! The hotel, the money, they’re all in my name.”’ [5.]

Karima tells Saber that her husband is suspicious. ‘“When I returned to my flat the last time I was here, [my husband] was awake…. I think Aly Seriakous, the porter, saw me.”’ [10.]

Saber understands what she wants. ‘“There’s nothing we can do.” “There is…. I must kill him!”’ [10.]

The search keeps Saber in Alexandria. It keeps him involved with both women. It is not successful.

Saber finds a respectable professional who has the same name as his father. The doctor does not recognise himself in the photograph. ‘“This is not your photograph?” “Definitely not,” [the doctor] answered with a laugh.’ [3.]
He does not recognise Saber’s mother. ‘“Who is that beautiful woman?”’ [3.]

Saber publishes the photograph in the advertisement and is contacted by someone who claims it is his. ‘“Is it your photograph?” “Yes…..” “Why are you looking for me?”’ [5.]

The caller gives Saber an address. Saber cannot find it. When the caller speaks to him again it is clear he is playing a cruel joke. ‘“What an ass you are.”’ [5.]

No one else contacts Saber. Someone contacts the newspaper. ‘“A woman enquired about you.”’ [6.] We never learn who she is or what she wants.

Saber ends the novel in jail. He has been convicted of murder.

Elham hires a lawyer for him. The lawyer does not think he is wasting his time. ‘“We might get you a life sentence instead of death.”’ [17.]

The lawyer has an acquaintance who knew Saber’s father. ‘“My friend… said that he married, very frequently, all sorts of women, old, young, rich, poor, widowed, married, divorced, even maidservants and prostitutes! …He was a millionaire!”’ [17.]

Saber’s father is real. The reader had almost certainly come to doubt this.
What is not real is the possibility of any kind of filial relationship. Saber’s father’s promiscuity means that there is nothing special in Saber’s relationship with him. Indeed there was nothing special in Saber’s father’s relationship with Saber’s mother.

The murder for which Saber is in jail is the murder of Karima.
When Saber offers to murder her husband it becomes obvious that Karima has thought the matter through. ‘“What happens after the crime?” “…We wait a while. We can meet secretly, then I’ll be yours. Me and the money…. Study the neighbouring building carefully…. You can cross over to our side easily. You must wait for him in the flat….” She was just like his mother. Utterly ruthless.’ [10.]

Karima joins him in the crime. They are neither of them hardened criminals. ‘Her eyes were sparkling but her face was deathly pale…. They hugged, nervously and without passion… like two frightened, lost children…. “I’ve taken the money and some jeweller. I… threw some clothes on the floor. Did you get gloves…? Very good; here is the iron bar.” …Saber realised his plight and brought his arm crashing down…. the old man uttered one soft cry, then a whimper, then silence.’ [10.]

After the crime Saber believes he sees his father. ‘He rushed towards the taxi and asked the driver to take him to the Nile…. Now you can get rid of the glove and the bar….. It happened while he was crossing the Kasr el-Nil bridge…. That face? Was it possible…? Sayed el-Reheimy!’ [10.]

The police arrest the wrong man, the porter. ‘“He already has been arrested…. Aly Seriakous.”’ [13.]

The doorman keeps Saber up to date with the gossip. Saber learns that Karima has been married before, and that her husband divorced her to allow her to marry Mr Khalil. ‘“But a good-for-nothing, as you describe her ex-husband, wouldn’t divorce a beautiful woman.” “Everything has its price.” The old man immediately regretted his remark.’ [13.]

From passion Saber’s feelings turn to hatred and contempt. This is typical of splitting. ‘A pimp’s whore. A purchased slave. A coolheaded animal, a vessel of unbelievable pleasures, your torturer to the end.’ [13.]

The doorman remarks prophetically: ‘“I think the killer will strike again.”’ [15.]

Saber succumbs to murderous rage. ‘Saber was now lost in a raging tempest of madness. The smell of blood was strong in his nostrils.’ [15.]

Saber is convinced that Karima has used him. Like Said Mahran in The Thief and the Dogs, he wants revenge. ‘No one is going to make a fool of me. Karima will not escape me.’ [16.]

Even as he kills Karima, Saber leads the police to them. ‘“They’ll arrest us, you fool. Today….” “Whore! Liar! You destroyed my life with a lie.” …Karima screamed loudly. “The police! It’s too late!” He pounced on her savagely, blindly, his hands closing around her neck.’ [16]

We never really know if Saber would have been caught if he had not killed Karima. We never really learn how cynical Karima was being. The Search is a realistic novel, but it is not as realistic as all that.

The psychological point, I think, is that while murder is difficult, once a crime has been committed it leads to more killing. ‘When night falls you are going to sign a bloody pact as your gateway to crime.’ [10.]

The social point is about the difficulty of escaping one’s origins. ‘“I’m a criminal descended from criminals,” [Saber] cried out as he left the shop. The grocer laughed; brandy does strange things to people!’ [10.]

The Search is, as so often with Mahfouz, a variation on a theme.

Bibliographical note
El-Enany, Rasheed, Naguib Mahfouz: Egypt’s Nobel Laureate, 2007

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Abandoned by history

 

 

 

 

Autumn Quail

Naguib Mahfouz 1962

There are some similarities, both thematic and formal, between Autumn Quail and Mahfouz’s previous novel, The Thief and the Dogs (1961). Both novels describe the impact of the Free Officers coup on July 23 in Egypt in 1952, and the ensuing July Revolution. Both novels describe the impact of the Revolution mainly in terms of its effect on the life of one individual. In the case of The Thief and the Dogs, that individual is Said Mahran. In Autumn Quail, it is Isa Ibrahim Ad-Dabbagh.

The Free Officers coup was one of the most important events of modern Egyptian history. The Free Officers were one of many secret societies at the time. As the name of the society implies, it drew its strength from the Egyptian military. It consisted of about three hundred commissioned officers in the army.

According to Arthur Goldschmidt, one factor precipitating the revolt was the shame that Egyptian officers and soldiers felt about the defeat of Egyptian forces in Palestine in 1948. Many in the Egyptian army saw the defeat as a consequence of the military preparations for the war, which had been very poor.

At the same time, the government had lost much legitimacy. King Faruq’s popularity had been declining, and the political parties were ineffectual and notoriously corrupt. Goldschmidt describes King Faruq as ‘… a womaniser, gambler and glutton.’ [Goldschmidt 2004, chapter 8.]

Hasan Ali ad-Dabbagh, in Autumn Quail, strongly criticises the corruption of the parties. Hasan is the cousin of Isa Ibrahim Ad-Dabbagh, the protagonist. ‘”There’s widespread corruption, believe me. Nobody in a position of authority today thinks about anything but the rotten game of getting rich quick. We inhale corruption in the very air we breathe!”’ [Autumn Quail, chapter 3.]

Goldschmidt thinks the situation in Egypt had become so bad that the issue was not whether there would be a revolution, but who would carry it out. ‘As King Faruq grew ever more inept, the Wafd and its rival parties more corrupt, and parliamentary democracy more decrepit, a rebellion became inevitable. But which rebels could speak for the Egyptian people?’ [Goldschmidt 2004, 8.]

The effective leader of the Free Officers had for some years been Gamal Abd al-Nasir, usually known in the west as ‘Nasser’. Nasir was a colonel. General Muhammad Nagib, the hero of the siege of the Palestinian village of Fullaja, provided a senior figurehead.

The coup was almost bloodless. There were one or two comic opera incidents. Major Anwar al-Sadat, later Nasir’s successor as president of Egypt, had taken his family to the cinema and could not be contacted. Nasir was stopped by a policeman because of a burned-out tail light.

The old regime – the palace and the parties – fell overnight. It only remained to finish with the British.

The impact of the revolution on the protagonists of the two novels is in some ways different. It is conditioned to a large extent by the degree of their social integration.

Said Mahran, the protagonist of The Thief and the Dogs, is socially isolated. He is a professional thief. For Mahran, the effect of the revolution is personal. It is mainly experienced as a betrayal by his mentor, Rauf Ilwan. ’What if Rauf should prove to have betrayed those ideas? He would then have to pay dearly for it.’ [The Thief and the Dogs, chapter 3.]

Unlike Mahran, Isa Ibrahim Ad-Dabbagh in Autumn Quail is well- integrated. He is an unusually successful civil servant. ‘His success… had been beyond the hopes of either [his mother] or his late father, who had spent his entire life as an obscure minor civil servant.’ [Autumn Quail, 3.]

The revolution is seen as impacting Ad-Dabbagh’s social circle in different ways. Isa’s cousin Hasan is favourably disposed towards the Revolution. Hasan disagrees with Isa on politics. ‘“The English, the King, and the parties, they’ll all have to go,” Hasan said. “Then we can start afresh.”’ [3.]

Under the new regime Hassan does well. He is not associated with any of the parties. ‘Then [Isa] learned that his cousin Hasan had been selected for an important post but that the way was clear for him to be appointed to even more important and influential positions.’ [7.]

Isa, by contrast, loses his job in the ministry. ‘…the decision had been taken to pension him off….’ [8.]

Isa’s friend Samir loses his job as well. ‘”It’s the same with me… I left the ministry for the last time today.”’ [8.]

Other friends, like Rauf Ilwan – Said Mahran’s former mentor in The Thief and the Dogs – adapt with perhaps discreditable quickness. ‘Here was his friend Ibrahim Khairat, a lawyer and ex-member of Parliament, writing enthusiastically about the revolution in more than one newspaper as though he were one of the officers himself!’ [7.]

The protagonists of both novels have some sympathy with the national and social ideals of the Revolution. Mahran was once involved in a revolutionary group. ‘On the other side of this very hill, young men, shabby, but pure in heart, used to train for battle.’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 5.]

Ad-Dabbagh feels an enthusiasm for the Revolution that he does not understand. ‘The exhilaration he frequently felt was difficult to confirm, to define, or even to contemplate….’ [Autumn Quail, 6.]

The Revolution and Ad-Dabbagh’s friends had enemies in common. ‘“The King’s finished…. The King’s our traditional enemy.”’ [6.]

The Revolution has achieved many of their goals. ‘…his friends …started praising the startling historic actions of the revolution, the abolition of the monarchy, the end of feudalism, and the evacuation….’ [18.] The evacuation, here, refers to the evacuation by the British of the Suez Canal zone.

Isa’s cousin implores him to join with the Revolution. ‘“Tell me one of your past hopes…. which hasn’t been achieved today. You should jump on the train and join the rest of us!”’ [18.]

Isa can appreciate the achievements of the revolution. He cannot accept that those achievements have been brought about by someone else. ‘“The truth is,” Isa replied after thinking for a moment, “although my mind is sometimes convinced by the revolution, my heart is always with the past.”’ [19.]

The outcomes are similar in one sense for Said Mahran and Isa Ibrahim Ad-Dabbagh. They are both left by the revolution without a future.

The only occupation that Said Mahran knows is burglary. ‘“In my whole life I’ve mastered only one trade.”’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 3.]

His former mentor predicts the outcome for him. ‘”You’ll always be worthless and you’ll die a worthless death.”’ [4.]

Ad-Dabbagh has not just lost a job. He has also lost his role. ‘“We won’t be working, whatever job we take… because we’ve no role to play.”’ [Autumn Quail, 13.]

Mahran and Ad-Dabbagh are powerless in the face of history. Mahran has lost any sense of purpose he might once have had. He does not feel he is living any more. ‘Said’s life was finished, spent to no purpose; he was a hunted man and would be till the end of his days… alive but without real life.’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 8.]

Ad-Dabbagh has lost his sense of himself as a participant in history. He feels worthless. ‘“We were the vanguard of a revolution…. and now we are the debris of one!”’ [Autumn Quail, 10.]

Said Mahran is proud of his occupation. He believes his crimes are political acts. ‘My profession will always be mine, a just and legitimate trade….’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 4.]

Mahran has been taught by his mentor, Rauf Ilwan, to see his crimes as justified by social conditions. ‘“You’ve actually dared to steal. Bravo! Using theft to relieve the exploiters of some of their guilt is absolutely legitimate, Said. Never doubt it.”’ [5.]

While Mahran is in prison the revolution takes place. Everything changes. ‘“And now you’ve come out of prison to find a new world.”’ [3.]

Mahran feels betrayed. He feels betrayed by his wife and by his friend, Ilish. ‘“She applied for divorce on the grounds of my imprisonment and went and married him…. And he took everything I owned, the money and the jewellery…. It was that dog who betrayed me, in collusion with her.”’ [2.]

Mahran has lost his daughter. After four years absence in prison she does not recognise him. ‘“Shake hands with Daddy,” said Ilish…. “No!” said Sana…. “Mammy!” she cried.’ [1.]

Mahran also feels betrayed by his former friend and mentor, Rauf Ilwan. Since the revolution Ilwan has become a successful journalist. Even his empty office conveys a sense of his new-found importance. ‘Rauf was now a very important man, it seemed, a great man, as great as this room.’ [3.]

The man Mahran once knew has vanished. ‘…what had become of the Rauf Ilwan he’d known?’ [3.]

Mahran wants revenge. He wants revenge on his ex-wife, his erstwhile friend Ilish, and on his former mentor Ilwan. ‘To kill them both – Nabawiyya and Ilish – at the same time would be a triumph. Even better would be to settle with Rauf Ilwan, too, then escape, go abroad if possible.’ [7.]

Mahran twice attempts murder. He first attempts to kill Ilish. ‘He drew his gun and gave the glass one blow thought the twisted bars that protected it…. A man’s voice… said, “Who’s there…?” Said pressed the trigger and the gun roared like a demon in the night. [7.]

Later he ambushes Rauf Ilwan. ‘“Rauf! This is Said Mahran! Take that!”’ [14.]

Said fails to kill Ilish. ‘Said Mahran had come to murder his wife and his old friend, but had killed the new tenant instead.’ [8.]

Said also fails to kill Rauf Ilwan. ‘…the unfortunate doorkeeper had fallen. Another poor innocent killed!’ [15.]

In both cases Said kills the wrong person. That is surely a comment on political violence. ‘A failure. It was insane. And pointless.’ [8.]

Said is abandoned by the woman who loves him. ‘Dawn was close, but Nur had not returned….’ [16.]

Said’s friends can no longer help him. ‘“But it was disastrous of you to attack a man of importance!”’ [16.]

He dies alone. ‘The dogs had come at last and there was no hope left.’ [18.]

Isa Ibrahim Ad-Dabbagh is a powerful bureaucrat, despite his youth. ‘There’s been a time when he’d made several members of the [Purge] committee tremble even when his party was not in power.’ [7.]

Isa is a party man. It is politics that is responsible for Isa’s rapid promotion. ‘[Hasan] was almost the same age as Isa but was still in the fifth grade, whereas politics had managed to push Isa up to the second.’ [3.]

From the arrogance with which Isa identifies his party with the nation, it is clear that it is the Wafd. The Wafd is never mentioned by name. ‘“We’re the legitimate rulers of this country and there are no others besides us.”’ [3.]

Ad-Dabbagh is involved with the appointment of umdas – village headmen. ‘All the accusations applied to the appointments of umdas….’ [7.] We can deduce from this involvement with the appointment of umdas that Isa is with the Ministry of the Interior. The Ministry of the Interior was responsible for umdas.

The Ministry of the Interior is a powerful organisation. Ad-Dabbagh has a senior job in the Ministry, a ’”… position in the minister’s office….”’ [3.] He is in a position of power.

The Ministry of the Interior is not named in Autumn Quail, any more than the Wafd is named. That gives ‘the ministry’ where Ad-Dabbagh works an eponymous quality. It becomes, in a shadowy way, a symbol for the civil service as a whole.

Mahfouz would expect his readers to recognise the allusions to the Wafd. Neither does he does not provide any background about the party.

Mahfouz provides no background for two reasons. The first and more banal reason is that, writing at that date and writing primarily for an Egyptian audience, he did not need to provide any background. He would expect his readers to know.

The second and more interesting reason is that Mahfouz was not writing a fictional history of the Wafd. To some extent Mahfouz had already done that, in the Cairo Trilogy.

In Autumn Quail Mahfouz was writing about the effect of the July revolution on an individual who – like Mahfouz himself, like many of Mahfouz’s colleagues in the civil service, like many of their contemporaries from the urban petty bourgeoisie – had had a lifelong loyalty to the Wafd.

Those loyalties were often powerful. Between 1919 and 1952 the Wafd was strongly identified with the struggle for Egyptian national independence. While there were other nationalist parties, the Wafd was preeminent.

The Wafd had its origins in a delegation which was sent to the peace conference in 1919. ‘Wafd’ in Arabic means ‘delegation’. If the countries of Eastern Europe were to have national self-determination, articulate and educated Egyptians – the Egyptian political community – saw no reason why they should not have the same. They were bitterly disappointed when the American delegation recognised the British protectorate.

The delegation was led by the lawyer Saad Zaghlul. He was to become the most popular Nationalist politician of his generation. Saad remained important even after his death. [Goldschmidt, 6.]

Bewildered by events after witnessing the Cairo riots, Ad-Dabbagh visits a Pasha. We are entitled to assume that the Pasha is someone senior in the party.

The Pasha is already washed up. His career was over before the riots. The loss of power and influence is an important theme in Autumn Quail. The Pasha ‘… no longer had any real job except to serve on the Finance Committee in parliament.’ [Autumn Quail, 2.]

Nevertheless the Pasha tries to pretend that he still has his finger on the pulse of affairs. ‘”Things are not as obvious as you imagine,” the Pasha replied.’ [2.]

The attempt to hang on to a vestige of political influence is another important theme. During the Suez crisis in 1956 one of Isa’s party colleagues displays not only an extraordinary arrogance, but an anti-national attitude that verges on treason. ‘“Some of our men are meeting the responsible authorities at this moment,” said Ibrahim…. “We’re trying to persuade them to surrender so that we can save whatever can be saved!”’ [24.]

Mahfouz does not need to make explicit the loyalty that Ad-Dabbagh and the Pasha share. All Mahfouz has to do when they meet on the evening of the riots is to mention briefly – almost cryptically – a detail of the interior decoration.  He refers to ‘…the picture of Saad Zaghlul hanging on the wall above the huge desk to the right of where they were sitting’. [2.] Twenty-five years after his death Saad, the nationalist, has become what would now be called an icon.

The image of Saad recurs right at the end of the novel. ‘… [Ad-Dabbagh] sat on a bench under Saad Zaghlul’s statue.…. He jumped to his feet in a sudden drunken spurt of enthusiasm and started after the young man with long strides, leaving the seat behind him sunk in solitude and darkness.’ [31.]

This is a much more complex metaphor. Saad is no longer a living statesman. Saad is history as the past. History as a dynamic process is represented by the young man whom Ad-Dabbagh once imprisoned. The novel ends before we can tell whether Ad-Dabbagh will catch up or not.

The London government would not discuss Egyptian independence. The British tried to quell the unrest by exiling Saad Zaghlul and three of his colleagues in 1919 to Malta.

The law school students went on strike. They were joined by government employees, judges, and lawyers. ‘Within a week Egyptians were looting shops, blowing up railroad tracks, cutting telegraph wires, and burning down buildings…. Street demonstrations… became a daily occurrence and dozens of rioters were killed, injured or arrested.’ [Goldschmidt, 6.]

These events became known as the 1919 Revolution. Mahfouz describes them vividly in Palace Walk (1956).

By 1921 it was clear, according to Goldschmidt, that the British would have to give up the protectorate. Saad thought he was the only Egyptian who had the authority to negotiate.  He called demonstrations. The British response was to exile Saad again. He was not to return home until 1923.

In 1922 the British granted Egypt partial autonomy. They made a formal statement terminating the protectorate and declaring Egypt a sovereign state. Several points were ‘reserved’ for further negotiation.

The Wafd reorganised as a political party. Under the 1923 constitution – with which the Wafd had had nothing to do – the Wafd won 179 seats out of 211 in the lower house. Saad became Prime Minister.

Sir Lee Stack, governor of the Sudan and commander in chief of the Egyptian army, was assassinated November 1924. The Wafd had nothing to do with the assassination. Allenby, the British representative, nevertheless issued an ultimatum. Saad resigned rather than accept it.

Goldschmidt believes that this was a mistake. He contends that Saad ‘… could have rallied the Egyptian people….’ [Goldschmidt, 6.]

In Goldschmidt’s words these events created a ‘power triangle’ that lasted until the July Revolution of 1952. It consisted of the king, the Wafd, and the British. This is precisely the arrangement against which Isa’s cousin Hassan fulminates so angrily. ‘“The English, the King, and the parties, they’ll all have to go,” Hasan said. “Then we can start afresh.”’ [Autumn Quail, 3.]

After what Goldschmidt describes as a ‘virtual palace dictatorship’ under Ismail Sidqi the democratic 1923 constitution was restored in 1934. King Faruq succeeded at the age of sixteen in 1936, and was initially popular.

The Wafd under Mustafa al-Nahhas, who had succeeded to the leadership in 1927 after the death of Saad, won large majorities in both houses of parliament. According again to Goldschmidt, only the Wafd could influence popular opinion. [Goldschmidt, 6.]

The Anglo-Egyptian treaty of August 1936 was perhaps the most important achievement of the Wafd. Goldschmidt describes it as a ‘first step towards independence’. He also says it was the ‘high-water mark of liberal democracy’. [Goldschmidt, 7.]

The Wafdist cabinet lasted only eighteen months. Faruq proved himself to be dictatorial.

The reputation of the Wafd suffered badly in 1942. The British ambassador surrounded palace with tanks. The ambassador demanded that Faruq should appoint Mustafa al-Nahas as prime minister. Faruq did not abdicate, and Mustafa al-Nahas agreed to form a cabinet. From that time forward the Wafd, who had always been in the forefront of the struggle against the British, were seen as collaborators.

The Wafd were hit again in the same year. Makram Ubayd, one of the leaders, quit the party and published his Black Book. In it Ubayd exposed the corruption of the Wafd. Mustafa al-Nahas was one of those he accused.

In the post-war period, British troops were withdrawn as agreed to the Canal Zone. The Canal Zone became the largest and best-equipped British overseas base. The British were also making preparations for eventual Sudanese independence. This was opposed by the Wafd. [Goldschmidt, 7.]

In the parliamentary elections of 1950 the Wafd won most of the seats with 40% of the vote. Mustafa al-Nahhas became prime minister.

Mustafa al-Nahhas’s new government introduced progressive measures. To some extent the Wafd redeemed themselves. Fees for secondary and technical schools were abolished, social service centres were created in many villages and a social insurance programme was set up. A land reform proposal – vitally important, because of the problem of landlessness – was even discussed. It not implemented.

The British were determined to hold on to their Suez Canal base. In 1951 Nahhas made a bold move. He unilaterally renounced the Anglo-Egyptian treaty and declared Faruq king of both Egypt and Sudan.

The Egyptian government claimed that the revocation of the treaty made the British presence in Canal Zone illegal. The government had popular support. There were strikes, a blockade and a boycott. The British retaliated by occupying roads, bridges and the Suez customs house.

The Egyptian government did not use the armed forces. It encouraged however the creation of groups of irregular fighters. They were usually known as fedayeen.

On 25 January 1952 British attacked the police headquarters in Ismailia. There were fifty killed.

On 26 January there was a march of auxiliary police and students in Cairo. Riots broke out. This would later be known as Black Saturday.

By the time the riots were over there were thirty dead and hundreds injured. Four hundred buildings had been destroyed and the damage was estimated at $500 million. The army stepped in after several hours delay.

Mahfouz does not describe the history of the struggle for independence for his Egyptian readers. He does not need to, any more than he needs to explain the origins of the Wafd.

Mahfouz is not writing about the struggle for independence. He is describing the impact of those well-known historical events on one individual.

Isa’s personal standing, before his fall, is vividly suggested at the beginning of the novel. When Isa returns from the fighting in the Canal Zone to find riots in Cairo he expects an entourage to meet him. There is no one. ‘When the train drew to a halt, he could see no one waiting for him. Where was his secretary? Where were the office staff and the messengers?’ [1.]

Symbolically Isa has already lost his power. He is then demoted following the riots. ‘“A decree’s been issued transferring me from my position in the minister’s office to the archives.”’ [3.]

After the revolution, Ad-Dabbagh is purged. The new rulers set up a formal process. ‘…he was summoned to appear before the Purge Committee.’ [7.]

I am not quite clear what Mahfouz means here. Goldschmidt refers to a purge of political parties. ‘Political parties were ordered to cleanse themselves of corrupt politicians.’ [Goldschmidt, 8.]

While Isa is a party man, the process that Mahfouz describes in Autumn Quail is pretty clearly an internal civil service process. ‘All the accusations applied to the appointments of umdas on the basis of party bias and gifts….’ [7.]

Isa is amongst other things being scapegoated. ‘“The minister relied on your nominations…. so you were primarily responsible.”’ [7.]

The penalty that is imposed is an internal civil service penalty. ‘…the decision had been taken to pension him off….’ [8.]

Isa loses not only his job, but – more importantly to him – his role. ‘“We won’t be working, whatever job we take… because we’ve no role to play.”’ [13.]

Like Said Mahran, the thief, Isa ends up friendless and alone. ‘“I want to live somewhere no one knows me and I know no one.”’ [12.]

In Isa’s case however it is perhaps more by conscious choice. ‘He experimented with solitude and its companions – a radio, books, and dreams.’ [13]

Both novels are realistic. They are not however completely conventional.

Both novels focus very much on the present. We are given only enough of the back story to make sense of the present.

In a more conventionally realistic novel, we would hear about Said Mahran’s exploits, his life of crime before he was imprisoned. His relationship with the friend who betrayed him and married his wife would be more developed.

Similarly in Autumn Quail we would hear more about Ad-Dabbagh’s exercise of power before he fell. As it is we are simply informed he was a powerful man.

A more conventional writer than Mahfouz might also want to develop Isa’s relationship with the young man whom he put in prison in his glory days. Isa encounters again, by chance, at the end of the novel. ‘Just before midnight, he saw someone coming toward the restaurant who attracted his attention like an electric shock…. He stared at Isa intently, and Isa realised that he recognised him.’ [31.]

Mahfouz does not do that. Personal history is suppressed in favour of national history. To a large extent, Autumn Quail and The Thief and the Dogs are both psychological novels.

Said Mahran and Isa Ad-Dabbagh are both individualists. Mahran is a thief. Ad-Dabbagh is an ambitious bureaucrat. Yet both novels are a critique of individualism. Neither Mahran nor Ad-Dabbagh can live without a connection to the collective. When Mahran loses his connection to his revolutionary ideals – however false and misguided those ideals may be – he self-destructs. Ad-Dabbagh, similarly, cannot live when he is excluded from history. At best he exists.

Autumn Quail begins when Isa Ad-Dabbagh returns to Cairo after a visit to the Canal Zone during the fighting. We never learn exactly what he was supposed to be doing there. The fighting is retrospective. ‘His mind still held the bloody scenes at the Canal, the slaughtered policemen, their defenceless heroism.’ [1.]

The rioting in Cairo is vividly present. ‘….gasoline was flaming, fires were burning, doors were being knocked in, all kinds of merchandise was being strewn about, and water was gushing out in crashing waves.’ [1.]

It is described in apocalyptic terms. ‘“The last day’s come…. Fire and destruction….”’ [1.]

It is not the provocation of the British by Mustafa al-Nahhas that Mahfouz sees as historic. Through the prophetic eyes of his protagonist Isa Ad-Dabbagh, it is the upsurge of popular anger that follows that Mahfouz sees as historic. ‘This flood would uproot the government, the party, and himself.’ [1.]

Isa and the Pasha understand fairly well what is going on. “Nationalist feelings are running very high.” [2.]

Mahfouz also understands, however much sympathy he may have with the national cause, that there is something fundamentally irrational about the behaviour of the crowd. “Burn! Destroy! Long live the homeland!” [1.]

When Isa is initially demoted he and his friends try to convince themselves that it is just another temporary setback of the kind that he is familiar with in politics. ‘”It’s not the first time.” [his  mother] said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your old job back. Or maybe something even better.” [3.]

With a rather extraordinary confidence Isa decides to finalise his plans for an advantageous marriage. ‘“I think it’s important… that I take advantage of this period of retirement to attend to my personal affairs.”’ [3.]

Isa’s proposed father in law, though his political loyalties are different, is form the same power élite in which Isa moves. ‘Rich and from a rich background, [Ali Bey Sulaiman] was also an influential justice, quite apart from the fact that he was a Palace man.’ [3.]

A politician to the last, Isa feels a need to present his feelings as more romantic than they are. ‘“But in fact I loved you tremendously ten years ago; you were ten and I was twenty.”’ [5.]

Salwa, Isa’s fiancé, is not completely convinced. ‘“All this, and yet you haven’t been to see me for ten years!”she said with mild irony.’ [5.]

Salwa nevertheless rewards him. He took her chin between his fingers, turned her head gently, leaned forward until his hungry mouth met her soft lips in a throbbing kiss…. [5.]

This is the kind of reward that Hassanein, despite being engaged, is not allowed in The Beginning and the End (1950). Bahia does not allow Hassanein any familiarity. “Don’t touch me,” she said with serious finality. [The Beginning and the End, 24.]

Hassanein becomes frustrated. Eventually he breaks off his engagement. ‘He felt he was wasting his days in hopeless monotony. …he was overcome by a vindictive impulse, a desire to injure, if only by words.’ [38.]

Isa and Salwa are older. Isa is certainly more worldly. Isa and Salwa are both from a higher social class than Hassanein and Bahia.

Isa’s pleasure in his marriage is real. ‘“Today I think I’ve reached the peak of happiness,” Isa said.’ [Autumn Quail, 4.]

In this Autumn Quail is reminiscent of the earlier melodramas. The moment of greatest apparent happiness comes immediately before the fall.

The riots were a premonition of the downfall of the old order. Reality arrives with the Free Officers coup. ‘Isa was at breakfast on the morning of the twenty-third of July when the radio interrupted its normal broadcast to announce the Army declaration. At first he did not fully comprehend what he was hearing.’ [6.]

Mahfouz does not need to specify what is happening. He can rely on his readers to know what happened on 23 July. He does not even have to remind them which year it is.

Isa initially reacts as a politician. That is how he reacted to the riots with which Autumn Quail opens. In exactly the same way, he goes to see a more senior politician. ‘He found Abd al-Halim Pasha in Athenios…. “Haven’t you any news, sir?” “…One can’t be sure about anything. Who are these officers?” [6.]

Isa begins to realise that this is no longer the political universe with which he is familiar. ‘The shock was tremendous. It overwhelmed him for a moment.’ [6.]

The effects of the coup on Isa personally are more serious than the effects of the riots. The riots led to a change of government. The coup, though it takes Isa a while to recognise it, is a change of regime.

Isa’s personal circumstances become uncertain. ‘The postponement of his marriage had become inevitable….’ [7.]

Isa’s position in the civil service is threatened. ‘Then the purging statute was announced.’ [7.]

When Isa loses his job his marriage is called off. ‘“Marriage is now quite out of the question!”’ [9.]

Isa is well on the way to having lost everything. His world is falling apart. He feels alienated. ‘He was an outcast in his own big city, banished without really being banished. He was amazed at the way the ground had suddenly collapsed under his feet like a puff of dust and how the pillars which had withstood fate for a quarter of a century had crumbled.’ [8.]

It is not unlike the way that Said Mahran feels on his release from prison. ‘I am alone with my freedom….’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 2]

Isa deteriorates. His cousin Hasan tries to help. ‘“I’ve got a job for you in a respectable company…. A company that produces and distributes films.”’ [11.] Isa is not interested. ‘“I’m really thinking of leaving Cairo.”’ [11.]

Isa is close to despair. ‘“My future’s a thing of the past.”’ [12.] He goes beyond a vague intention of leaving Cairo, and makes plans. ‘“I’m thinking of going to Alexandria.”’ [12.]

In Alexandria Isa lives in a Greek quarter. It makes his alienation fell real. ‘…you could see Greek faces on the balconies, at the windows, and in the street. He was a stranger in a district filled with strangers… you were all strangers in a strange country.’ [13.]

The autumn quail of the title are a symbol of Isa’s feelings of sadness and loss. ‘You could see the bevies of quail as well….’ [13.]

In his isolation and despair Isa sees women as a drug. ‘“You’ll still need girls, though; they’re wonderful tranquilisers for anxieties.”’ [13.]

Isa cannot afford the prostitutes in the nightclubs. ‘All these beautiful women belonged to houses now, not to the streets….’ [14.]

He encounters a desperately poor streetwalker and takes her in. ‘The cheap cotton flannel dress, the defiant look untinged by reserve or haughtiness, and the very fact that she was walking alone at night, all these things showed that she was a Corniche girl.’ [14.]

He does not respect her. In his eyes she is: ‘…like a stray dog looking for any passerby to follow.’ [14.]

Isa discovers the depth of Riri’s poverty. ‘…he went into the lounge and found her there, cleaning and putting things straight with great industriousness. “…Haven’t you got a home?” “No.”’ [15.]

He takes advantage of her. ‘He gave her no encouragement to get emotionally involved with him….’ [16.]

When he discovers she is pregnant he is furious. He treats her with great cruelty. ‘“You poisonous little snake!” he yelled at her. “Is this how you pay me back for giving you a home? …Don’t let me see your face from now on, or ever again.”’ [16.]

Isa is not merely exploiting Riri, and showing his contempt in doing so for the Egyptian people, from whom Riri comes. He is showing an inability to feel for women and by extension a lack of feeling for people in general.

Riri attempts to contact him again. ‘He heard a slight cough and turned to his left. There was Riri, sitting at a table only one away from his! …her smiling eyes were full of tragedy.’ [17.]

Isa pretends he does not recognise her. It is perhaps even more cruel than shouting. ‘“I’m sorry. Maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”’ [17.]

Isa is refusing to recognise Riri’s suffering. He is refusing by the same token to recognise his responsibility for her. He does not understand that as a politician and a civil servant, he had some responsibility for the people. For him politics is about career, and women exist to meet his needs.

Isa’s mother dies. He goes back to Cairo to sell the house. ‘He found a telegram waiting for him from the family saying that his mother had died.’ [17.]

He discovers that his former fiancée is going to marry his cousin. ‘“{Salwa is] engaged to your cousin Hasan….”’ [18.]

Through the sale of the house Isa meets a wife. Unlike Riri, Qadriyya is of similar social standing. Unlike Riri, Qadriyya has money. ‘Qadriyya needs a husband, he thought with a good deal of sorrow, and I need a wife. He decided to make a few of the usual enquiries, which established that she had been married three times, not once.’ [21.]

Isa is cynical about Qadriyya, as he was with Riri. ‘He realised that if he knew about the bride’s faults in advance, later on he wouldn’t be able to play the role of the faithful husband whose hopes have been dashed.’ [21.]

Marriage does not satisfy Isa for long. ‘“I doubt if any man could stand [married life] without a job or children.”’ [22.]

History intervenes. The Suez crisis erupts. ‘One day, the radio surprised him by announcing the nationalisation of the Suez Canal Company.’ [22.]

The British had agreed to evacuate the canal in 1954. In 1955, the Western powers were alarmed when Nasser announced the purchase of $20 million worth of Soviet weapons, ostensibly from Czechoslovakia. They saw it as a turn towards the Soviet bloc.

Previously the Western powers and the Western institutions had been quite supportive. The World Bank had already announced itself ‘cautiously in favour’ of the heroic Aswan High Dam infrastructure project.

Dulles, the American Secretary of State, then made what Goldschmidt describes ‘as the worst diplomatic blunder’ that he ever committed. He withdrew the High Dam offer. Nasir responded by nationalising the Suez Canal Company.

The British decided to treat the nationalisation of the canal as a threat to the security of their communications with the Empire. They concerted plans with the French and the Israelis. They did not inform the Americans. [Goldschmidt, 9.]

The Israelis attacked. ‘The Jews attacked Sinai.’ [Autumn Quail, 22.]

The British, disingenuously, issued an ultimatum to both the Egyptians and the Israelis. They instructed both countries to withdraw their armed forces ten miles either side of the canal. This was to treat both parties as equal belligerents, when in fact the Israelis were the aggressor. It was also to treat the canal as if it was the frontier.

In the face of international opposition the British and French attack was aborted almost before it began. The Israelis pulled out of Sinai. Goldschmidt describes the outcome as ‘a military defeat but a political triumph for Nasir’. [Goldschmidt, 9.]

Isa briefly shares the enthusiasm. ‘The world gave its decision, the threats disappeared, and the enemy was forced to swallow its pride and submit to an unprecedented reality. Then there was an outburst of joy greater than any bomb.’ [24.]

It does not last. ‘…Isa himself …rapidly sunk into a profound lethargy like a pile of ash.’ [24.]

Isa now feels his situation. ‘Everyone has a job, but he had none. Every wife has children, but she had none. Every citizen in a country has his own abode, but he was an exile in his own homeland….. How much longer can this miserable existence last, he asked himself.’ [24.]

Isa takes to gambling. ‘Isa put his whole heart and soul into the poker game.’ [26]

Qadriyya does not like his gambling. She throws him out. ‘He kept on pressing the bell, but here was no answer. She must have decided not to open the door, he thought.’ [26]

Isa and Qadriyya are reconciled, provisionally at least, by their friends. They are advised to move to Alexandria.

Isa starts to fantasise about a tranquil rural life, quite unlike anything he has ever known. It is pure escapism. ‘“I’d really like some other kind of life…. I’d like to spend the day working in the fields and the night on a balcony looking out on space and silence…. It’s just a dream.”’ [28.]

Isa encounters a fortune teller. It is a sign of his state of mind that a sophisticated, secular man such as Isa should even listen to a fortune teller.

Mahfouz used a similar device in The Mirage (1948). Kamil decides to spy on Rabab.  He suspects she is having an affair.

Kamal visits the shrine of Sayyida Zaynab, where he used to go with his mother: ‘…I happened to see a geomancer. “…You think and worry a lot,” he said. “…And you have a cunning enemy…. He’s planning a cunning deceit, but God will bring his artful plot down on his head. …And you’ll receive a piece of paper that will bring you everlasting satisfaction.” [The Mirage, 50.]

The predictions, if nothing else, confirm to the reader that Kamal is right to be paranoid. Kamal, unlike Isa, is of course superstitious. Kamal attributes his superstitiousness to his mother. ‘She so filled my ears with stories of goblins, ghosts, spirits, djinns, murderers, and thieves that I imagined myself living in a world filled with demons and terror…. It was this that placed fear at the centre of my soul….’ [4.]

Some of what the fortune teller tells Isa is the usual nonsense. ‘He found a palm reader in Indian dress standing in front of him…. “You’ll have a long life,” the man said, “and you’ll recover from a serious illness….”’ [Autumn Quail, 28.]

The fortune teller makes an observation on Isa’s character which is however very apt. ‘“You’re an ambitious man without any consideration for others.”’ [28.]

Isa encounters Riri. ‘She was in a small place which sold ice cream and ful and taamiya sandwiches, and was sitting behind the till on the chair belonging to either the manager or the owner.’ [28.]

A servant brings a little girl. ‘…the little girl jumped onto Riri’s lap and started playing lovingly and trustingly with the necklace she was wearing.’ [28.]

Isa realises that the little girl is his daughter. It affects him as powerfully as anything else in the novel. ‘Breathing heavily, he looked up at the sky, and then muttered, “Mercy… Mercy….”’ [28.]

The sight of his daughter gives him some understanding of how he treated Riri. ‘…he was shocked by how cruel and unpleasant he had been to her.’ [28.]

Isa nevertheless understands the situation in a completely selfish way. ‘Maybe it was a final despairing invitation to a life with some meaning….’ [29.]

He has the gall to approach Riri. Riri initially pretends she does not recognise him, just as Isa pretended not to recognise her when she needed him. ‘“Who are you?” she yelled angrily. “What do you want?”’ [29.]

Then Riri rejects him, exactly as he rejected her. ‘“Go away… and don’t let me see your face ever again.”’ [29.]

Isa finds out from a boot black that Riri has found a man who treats her decently. ‘“He’s old and a good man. He had no children and loved the woman. So he married her in the proper way!”’ [29.]

Isa watches Riri and her daughter on the beach. ‘Riri was sitting under an umbrella with her arms folded, and little Ni’mat was bending over the sand a few yards away, eagerly digging a pit.’ [31.]

He makes his only gesture of affection in the novel. ‘…he planted a long warm kiss on [Ni’mat’s] cheek. Then he muttered, “Farewell,” and left without turning back.’ [31.]

Said Mahran in The Thief and the Dogs also shows affection only for his daughter. It is something else that the two men, socially so different, have in common. ‘”As the thought of [Sana] crossed his mind, the heat and the dust, the hatred and pain all disappeared, leaving only love to glow across a soul as clear as a rain-washed sky.”’ [The Thief and the Dogs, 1.]

Isa encounters the young man. ‘One night, he had arrested this young man…. the inquest had not found him guilty. He had been sent to prison anyway and had stayed there till the ministry had resigned.’ [Autumn Quail, 31.]

Initially Isa pretends not to recognise him. He denies responsibility for the young man’s suffering, just as he denied responsibility for Riri. ‘“You remember me, of course!” “… I certainly remember the way days and the harsh circumstances which often forced us to do things we didn’t like doing.”’ [31.]

The young man is more sophisticated than Riri. ‘“That’s the traditional excuse…”’ [31.]

Isa decides to follow the young man. ‘I could catch up with him, he thought, if I don’t waste any more time hesitating.’ [31.]

Isa doesn’t expect very much. ‘What an odd young man…! Why didn’t I encourage him to talk? Maybe I should ask him to help me overcome my boredom…. Our conversation might lead us into an adventure which would brighten up the night.’ [31.]

Isa, an educated man with resources has more than Said Mahran has in a similar condition of isolation and despair. Said Mahran ‘… heard dogs beginning to bark in the distance…. The dogs had come at last and there was no hope left.’ [18]

Without community, they are both nothing. Said Mahran has no hope. Isa, realistically, has very little.

Mahfouz is prepared to confront suffering. This is a kind of realism. It is however realism about the world. It is more than a literary convention.

The Thief and the Dogs and Autumn Quail are competent novels. Mahfouz has moved away from the melodrama of the novels he wrote in the late 1940s.

I do not see the merit of these novels as purely aesthetic. They are courageous, and they are wise.

Bibliographical note

Goldschmidt, Arthur Jr., Modern Egypt: The Formation of a Nation State, 2nd edn. 2004

Photo credit: @bastique on Visualhunt.com /  CC BY-SA

Betrayal

Children of the Alley

Naguib Mahfouz 1961

The Thief and the Dogs is one of six novels written between the serial publication of the controversial Children of the Alley in 1959, and the Six Day War in 1967. The other novels published in that period were Autumn Quail (1962), The Search (1964), The Beggar (1965), Adrift on the Nile (1966) and Miramar (1967).

The Thief and the Dogs, Autumn Quail and The Beggar are all quite short. They are sometimes described as novellas. Whatever the length, six published novels in seven years represent a rather high level of output. Throughout his life, Mahfouz’s output was usually high.

The Thief and the Dogs describes the last few days in the life of Said Mahran.  Said Mahran is the thief of the title.

The pace of the novel, and the unity of the plot, is like the pace of the melodramas from 1945 to 1950. Nothing happens that does not advance the story. Unlike the melodramas, however, The Thief and the Dogs does not rely on coincidence. Nothing happens that is improbable. Some things – such as Said Mahran twice managing to shoot the wrong person – happen more or less by accident.

Mahran is a professional burglar. To have a criminal as the protagonist of a novel is a departure for Mahfouz.

Although Mahfouz has not used a criminal as a protagonist before, he is nevertheless interested in crime. He has been writing about crime for a while.

There are criminals in several other novels. Hassan, the oldest of the three brothers in The Beginning and the End (1950), is a traditional thug. Mahfouz shows that Hassan’s choice of occupation is a response to poverty. He also shows in the cases of the two younger brothers that there are different choices. Poor people do not have to take to crime. It is to some extent a choice.

Hussein, the middle brother, becomes a clerk in southern Egypt. Hassanein, the youngest, mobilizes influence and – very unusually, for someone with his background – becomes an army officer.

The gangsters who rule the alley in Children of the Alley are, like Hassan, traditional thugs. Thugs were part of the life of the old quarters of Cairo.

There are other examples of criminals. Dr Booshy and Zaita in Midaq Alley (1947) are – extraordinarily, in modern Egypt – tomb robbers. They steal gold fillings from corpses in the cemetery. Dr Booshy, an unlicensed dentist, uses the stolen gold in his dental practice to make cheap dentures.

When Arafa the magician and Hanash his brother dig under the wall of Gabalawi’s mansion in Children of the Alley they are, symbolically, also tomb robbers. That makes Gabalawi’s mansion amongst other things a pharaoh’s tomb. Mahfouz had a long-standing interest in pharaonic nationalism.

Mahran is not a thug. He is a career criminal. Nor is he anything as exotic as a tomb robber. Mahran has a realistic occupation. He is a burglar.

We are given a clear indication of how Mahran used to work before he was imprisoned. He was well-equipped and collected intelligence. After Mahran’s release from prison he lacks the resources he needs and has no assistants. ‘I have no tools, no flashlight, no good knowledge of the house. Nabawiyya hasn’t been here before me pretending to work as washerwoman or a maid….’ [4]

There are no details of particular episodes from Mahran’s earlier career as a criminal. We are given only a general impression. We can safely assume, therefore, that crime as such is not the main interest of the novel.

If this was in all ways a realistic novel it would be necessary to give some details of Mahran’s history of crime. Without the background, Mahran as a character would not be entirely credible.

In its treatment of character and action, The Thief and the Dogs is an essentially realistic novel. It is not however wholly realistic. Mahfouz is more interested in the meaning of Mahfouz’s actions than their plausibility.

Mahran is released from prison as the novel begins. ‘Once more he breathed the air of freedom. But there was stifling dust in the air, almost unbearable heat, and no one was waiting for him; nothing but his blue suit and his gym shoes.’ [1]

Although The Thief and the Dogs is about a criminal, it is not a Kriminalroman. While policemen occur several times in the novel, they are incidental.

A detective is waiting for him when he arrives at his old home to discuss custody of his daughter. ‘The detective came up and patted him all over, searching with practiced speed and skill.’ [1]

Towards the end of the novel, while the manhunt is at its height, Mahran is surprised by two policemen. ‘“Stop where you are!” said one of them in a deep urbanised country accent. “And let’s see your identity card!” barked the other….’  [16]

Mahran attacks them. ‘…swinging a fist into both their bellies….’ [16]

We can also fairly assume that it is the police who fire at Mahran and turn the floodlights on him when he is finally cornered. It would not in fact matter for the story if it was the army who fired. ‘And suddenly there was blinding light over the whole area…. “Give yourself up…. It’s no use resisting.”’ [18]

That is all. The press is in fact more important than the police. ‘…there was clearly enormous interest in both the crime and its perpetrator… especially in Al-Zahra, Rauf Ilwan’s paper.’ [10]

There is no sense of the battle of wits and daring between the police and the criminal that characterize the mystery. There is no sense of the struggle to avoid a calamitous outcome that characterizes a thriller.

The whole of the novel is told from the point of view of Said Mahran. Despite the violent action, it is a psychological novel. In that it resembles Cairo Modern (1945) or The Mirage (1948).

Mahran believes that he has been betrayed. ‘No one smiled or seemed happy. But who of these people could have suffered more than he had, with four years lost, taken from him by betrayal.’  [1]

Mahran believes that he has been betrayed by his wife Nabawiyya and his friend Ilish. Ilish betrayed him to the police. ‘Ilish Sidra finally said, “I’ll tell the police. We’ll get rid of him….” And I found myself surrounded by police in Al-Sayrafi Lane… their kicks and punches raining down on me.’ [4] (Quotations in Roman type represent interior monologue. They are in italic in the original.)

Said’s wife betrayed him by marrying Ilish, the friend who betrayed him. ‘”She committed adultery with one of my men, a layabout, a mere pupil of mine, utterly servile. She applied for divorce on grounds of my imprisonment and went and married him.”’ [2]

Nabawiyya and Ilish have custody of Sana, Said Mahran’s daughter. Sana is the only human being for whom Said appears to have feelings. ‘”As the thought of her crossed his mind, the heat and the dust, the hatred and pain all disappeared, leaving only love to glow across a soul as clear as a rain-washed sky.”’ [1]

Said also believes that he has been betrayed by his friend Rauf Ilwan. Said’s sense of betrayal by Nabawiyya and Ilish is direct and personal. His sense of betrayal by Rauf Ilwan – in a Kriminalroman, this would be paradoxical is about ideals.

Rauf is Said’s oldest friend. Said’s father was the concierge of a student hostel. ‘…your father, Amm Mahran, the kindly concierge of the student’s hostel….’ [11]

Rauf was a student at the hostel. ‘…what had become of the Rauf Ilwan he’d known? Said thought of the good old days at the students’ hostel….’ [3]

 Said Mahran first steals during his mother’s terminal illness. His father has already died. ‘It was during that long month of illness, however, that you stole for the first time….’ [11]

Mahfouz does not suggest, in any editorial comment, that stressful circumstances justify the crime. It is Rauf who approves of what Said Mahran has done. ‘“You’ve actually dared to steal. Bravo! Using theft to relieve the exploiters of some of their guilt is absolutely legitimate, Said. Never doubt it.”’ [5]

Rauf is a revolutionary. ‘Not just a revolutionary student, but revolution personified as a student.’ [12]

Rauf is Said’s mentor. ‘…his whole life had been no more than the mere acting out of ideas that had come from that man….’ [3]

Rauf, as a student revolutionary, appears to have a number of followers. They train with firearms in the desert. ‘On the other side of this very hill, young men, shabby, but pure in heart, used to train for battle.’ [5]

This is where Said Mahran acquired his skill at arms. ‘Didn’t it use to be said that he was Death Incarnate, that his shot never missed?’ [5]

The group is not named. We can assume this is deliberate. In a realistic novel it would have to be named. In certain aspects it appears to be a nationalist group. ‘…the time when I got arms for the national cause and not for the sake of murder.’ [5]

In the beliefs that Rauf Ilwan installs in Said Mahran, there is also a strong element of social justice. ‘”Isn’t it justice… that what is taken by theft should be retrieved by theft?”’ [11] There is perhaps a hint here of the French anarchist writer Proudhon’s well-known formula, ‘Property is theft’.

There are even references to class war. When Said Mahran meets Rauf Ilwan for the first time after coming out of prison, he jokes about it. ‘“No class war now?”’ [3]

Mahfouz does not explicitly state that Ilwan’s group is either nationalist or socialist. This is not realism. It is symbolism. Ilwan’s group is composed of young men who are alienated from society and prepared to resort to violence to further their political ideals. Political violence, including particularly assassination, was a curse of Egyptian life under the monarchy and the British.

There is no suggestion that Said’s crimes are ‘expropriations’. Said is not stealing to provide funds for the movement. The purpose of his crimes is to enrich himself.

Socialist groups do not usually approve of violence. They seek power through the electoral process. Communists approve of violence when it is necessary for the seizure or the consolidation of power. It is only some anarchists who see crime as a political act.

Mahfouz has some interest in anarchists. Mahgub Abd al-Da’im in Cairo Modern (1945) is called an anarchist by his friends.  ‘”You, more than anyone, deserve the title anarchist.”’ [Cairo Modern, 10.] Al-Da’im is described as amoral [Cairo Modern, 31] and a nihilist [Cairo Modern, 7.]  Amorality and nihilism can both be characteristics of people described as anarchists.

‘Anarchist’, however, is not quite correct. Mahgub Abd al-Da’im entirely lacks a class analysis. A theory of class would be essential for us to see him as a collective anarchist.

Al-Da’im does however share the rejection of some ‘individual anarchists’, as they are known, of the idea of any moral restraint or obligation. Al-Da’im is also, though Mahgub does not use the term or an equivalent, anti-social. ‘His rejection of society and its values was dazzlingly complete.’ [40.]

Mahgub Abd al-Da’im is perhaps more properly a nihilist. He has no values. Said Mahran believes that his revolutionary principles justify his crimes. Other than that, he is perhaps a nihilist as well.

Said has the sense of entitlement of the truly anti-social person. The detective calls Said’s money his ‘loot’. Said talks about as it as his own property. He does so quite unselfconsciously. ‘”And  [Ilish] took everything I owned, the money and the jewellery….”’ [2]

Said uses the ideals he learned from Rauf Ilwan to justify his crimes. ‘My profession will always be mine, a just and legitimate trade….’ [4]

Said sees himself as a victim. Poverty forces him into crime. His revolutionary ideals justify it. Said’s mentor Ilwan abandons those ideals. Said feels deeply betrayed.

While Said was in prison the Free Officers carried out their coup and initiated the Egyptian Revolution. This dates the novel.

Said was serving four years. The Free Officers staged their coup in 1952. The action of the novel therefore occurs between 1952 and 1956.

Rauf Ilwan has adapted. He is an important journalist. Mahran tries unsuccessfully to see Ilwan at the paper where he works. He ‘…found himself in a large rectangular room with one glass wall overlooking the street, but no place to sit. He heard the secretary on the telephone, telling someone that Mr Rauf was at a meeting with the editor-in-chief and would not be back for at least two hours.’

Mahran realises that Ilwan is no longer his old comrade. ‘Rauf was now a very important man, it seemed, a great man, as great as this room.’ [3]

Mahran worries that he can no longer rely on Ilwan. ‘What refuge would he have left if his only surviving support also collapsed?’ [3]

Mahran fears that Ilwan may have betrayed the values they once shared. ’What if Rauf should prove to have betrayed those ideas? [3]

Mahran feels vindictive. ‘He would then have to pay dearly for it.’ [3]

When they meet, Ilwan does not refer explicitly to the Free Officers coup or the July Revolution. This possibly represents a degree of caution about the censorship. I think however any contemporary Egyptian reader would have understood what was meant. ‘“And now you’ve come out of prison to find a new world.”’ [3]

What has happened is surprising. ‘“Who could have predicted such things…?”’ [3]

Ilwan is very clear about what this means. The revolutionary struggle in which they were involved is over. ‘“Let there be a truce! Every struggle has its proper field of battle.”’ [3]

Ilwan wants Mahran to reform. ‘“In the past you were both a thief and my friend…. If you go back to burglary you’ll be a thief and nothing else.”’ [3]

Ilwan refuses to give Mahran a job on his paper. ‘“You’ve never been a writer, and you got out of jail only yesterday.”’ [3]

Ilwan dismisses Mahran with a gift of money. ‘Rauf took out his wallet and handed him two five-pound notes.’ [3]

Mahran feels he has been betrayed. He equates Ilwan’s betrayal with the betrayals by his wife and his friend. ‘The other Rauf Ilwan has gone, disappeared, like yesterday, like the first day in the history of man – like Nabawiyya’s love or Ilish’s loyalty.’ [4]

Mahran becomes vindictive. ‘But unless I settle my account with them, life will have no taste, because I shall not forget the past.’ [4]

The only meaning Mahran has had is his life of crime and the revolutionary ideals he used to justify that. With his companions and his mentor gone, he can only find meaning in fantasies of violent revenge. He cannot change.

Out of vindictiveness Mahran attempts to burgle Ilwan’s mansion. He fails. He is caught.

Ilwan does not turn Mahran over to the police. He chooses to humiliate him. ‘“It was idiotic of you to try your tricks on me…. You’ll always be worthless and you’ll die a worthless death.”’ [4]

Ilwan emphasises the complete nature of the rupture between them by demanding the return of the gift. Ilwan too, it would seem, has a vindictive streak. ‘“Give me back the money.”’ [4]

Mahran’s fantasies of revenge turn into active planning. The transition is seamless. Mahran is, perhaps, above all a man of action.

Mahran visits a café where he is known. It is a den of thieves. ‘…the café was quiet again. Nothing had changed. Said felt like he’d left it only yesterday.’ [5]

Mahran is seeking a weapon for his plans. ‘“I need a good revolver.”’ [5]

Guns are part of Mahran’s life. His mentor Rauf Ilwan has taught him their value. ‘“What does a man need in this country, Said…? He needs a gun and a book: the gun will take care of the past, the book is for the future.”’ [5]

Books in this case represent the revolutionary ideals. Most of Mahran’s books are gone. “I only want my books….” “Most of them have been lost….” [1]

By the time the novel opens Mahran no longer has a future. He only has a past. He is doomed.

At the café Mahran meets Nur. She too is part of his past. “It’s Nur, remember her…? She’ll be pleased to see you.” [5]

Nur is a woman who used to admire Mahran. Though it is not made explicit, she appears to be a bar girl.

The description of Nur is realistic to a fault. It is also quite sexist. ‘She’d hoped to gain his love, but failed. Her face was disguised by heavy makeup, and she was wearing a sexy frock that not only showed her arms and legs but was fitted so tightly to her body it might have been stretched rubber. What it advertised was that she’d given up all claims to self-respect.’ [5]

Nur has a wealthy lover with a car. Mahran muses about how to rob him. ‘So he likes open spaces. Over near the Martyr’s tomb.’ [5]

In the robbery we see Mahran’s ability to intimidate people and his capacity for violence. ‘Said thrust the gun so menacingly close that the young man began to plead.’ [6]

Even Nur, despite being forewarned, finds Mahran’s violence convincing. ‘“I was really scared,” Nur said as she dressed.’ [6]

Nur comments on his lack of feeling. This is the characteristic that allows Mahran to commit violent crimes. ‘“You have no heart.”’ [6]

Mahran does not argue with Nur. He turns it into a joke. ‘“They’ve got it locked up in prison, according to regulations.”’ [6]

Nur tells Mahran where she lives. ‘“…in Sharia Najm al-Din beyond the cemetery at Bab el-Nasr.”’ [6]

 Tombs are also significant in Khan al-Khalili (1945). This is one of the novels that I refer to as ‘social melodramas’. Both the Akif brothers are in love with the same young woman, Nawal. She is a schoolgirl.

The route that Nawal takes to walk to school leads her past the Cairo Necropolis: ‘…the City of the Dead was looming ahead to their left, shrouded in its eternal gloom and all-pervasive silence.’ (27).

The City of the Dead is a large area of tombs and mausoleums near the Mokattam Hills, which are a significant location in Children of the Alley. What Mahfouz does not mention is that many people live among the tombs. It is not relevant here.

Rushdi takes to walking with her to school. They pass the Akif family tomb. ‘”That’s our family tomb,” [Rushdi] said… “Then let’s recite the Fatiha,’ [Nawal] said.’ (27).

This is symbolic. Before the end of the novel Rushdi will die of tuberculosis. Nawal does not know this when Rushdi points out the tomb to her. He will be buried there.

Bab al-Nasr is one of the surviving gates of Old Cairo. The cemetery does not appear to be as well-known as the City of the Dead. Nevertheless Mahfouz is making a similar point. Mahran is going to live among the dead. His own death is imminent.

This sense of fatality has an element of tragedy. Mahran however lacks the nobility that is required for a truly tragic character.

Once he has the pistol and the car Mahran commences on his career of revenge. ‘To kill them both – Nabawiyya and Ilish – at the same time would be a triumph.’  [7]

Mahran has not yet accepted that his paranoid obsession will destroy him. ‘Even better would be to settle with Rauf Ilwan, too, then escape, go abroad if possible.’ [7]

In a curious inversion, Mahran thinks that Nabawiyya and Ilish are the criminals, not him. ‘Treachery is abominable, Ilish, and for the living to enjoy life it is imperative that criminal and vicious elements be eradicated.’ [7]

Said goes to his old flat. He thinks Ilish will still be there. ‘He drew his gun and gave the glass one blow thought the twisted bars that protected it…. A man’s voice… said, “Who’s there…?” Said pressed the trigger and the gun roared like a demon in the night. The man… hit the floor, where he lay like a sack.’ [7]

Mahran assumes that the man’s wife is Nabawiyya. ‘A woman shrieked for help….’ [7]

Mahran shows his megalomania.  ‘“Your time will come! There’s no escape from me!”’ [7]

He also describes himself in the language of evil. ‘”I’m the devil himself!”’ [7]

Mahran has now killed a man. His reaction is somewhat grandiose. ‘A murderer…! you have a new identity now, and a new destiny!’ [7]

He is not so far gone that he cannot recognise how much the act has changed him. ‘You used to take precious goods – now you take worthless lives!’ [7]

It is only when Mahran reads the papers that he realises his mistake. The papers are to become important to him. ‘“Dastardly Murder in the Citadel Quarter.”’ [8]

Said has killed the wrong man. ‘Said Mahran had come to murder his wife and his old friend, but had killed the new tenant instead.’ [8]

Said does not attempt to rationalise his failure. He sees the futility, and has some sense of his growing madness. ‘A failure. It was insane. And pointless.’ [8]

Eventually Said’s paranoia takes over. ‘Suspicion had tainted his blood to the last drop now: he had visions of infidelity as pervasive as dust in a windstorm.’ [16]

He does not wholly lack insight. ‘“Is this madness, then?”’ [15]

It is when he thinks of his situation that Mahran descends into melodrama. ‘Said’s life was finished, spent to no purpose; he was a hunted man and would be till the end of his days… alive but without real life.’ [8]

Living near the cemetery is a powerful symbol of being ‘alive but without real life.’ The association of Mahran with death is strong. ‘Not a day passes without the graveyard welcoming new guests.’ [11]

Mahran sees the graves as an expression of his plight. ‘What a lot of graves there are…. Their headstones are like hands raised in surrender….’ [10]

Nur offers Mahran a relationship. ‘“Stay here all your life, if you like.”’ [9] Nur does not know at the point she makes the offer how short Mahran’s life will be.

Mahran is incapable of responding. He does not care for her. ‘…one puff of wind would be enough to blow you away. You only arouse pity in me.’ [9]

The search for love appears to give Nur’s life meaning. She strongly suspects that Mahran is incapable of love. ‘“Is there anything more important than love? I often wondered if your heart wasn’t made of stone.”’ [9]

Their relationship is little more than instinct. It is illusory. It is destructive. ‘A moth overhead made love to a naked light bulb in the dead of the night.’ [10]

Nur relates an incident that shows the reality of a life constant poverty. ‘“I’m worn out,” [Nur] said weakly.’ [11]

It also shows that life for a woman without a male protector in a traditional society is very precarious. ‘“They beat me! …some young louts, probably students, when I asked them to pay the bill.”’ [11]

What Nur wants is very little. It indicates the depths of her deprivation. ‘“I just want to sleep safe and secure, wake up feeling good, and have a quiet, pleasant time.”’ [11]

Mahran uses Nur. He needs her help in preparing his next step. ‘“I’m going to ask you to buy some cloth for me – something suitable for an officer’s uniform.”’ [10]

Nur does what Mahran wants. ‘Nur watched him as he tried on the uniform.’ [12]

She is nevertheless worried. ‘“Do be sensible. I couldn’t bear to lose you again.”’ [12]

Nur finally discovers what Mahran has done. ‘“You’ve killed someone! …How terrible! Didn’t I plead with you?”’ [12]

She shows that up to a point she was realistic about his feelings and their future. ‘“You don’t love me…. I know that. But at least we could have lived together until you did love me!”’ [12]

Nur does not seem to have a problem with burglary. Murder is different. ‘“What’s the use… when you’ve committed murder?”’ [12]

Nur does not stop loving Mahran. It makes her despair all the more poignant. ‘“I just don’t understand you. But for heaven’s sake have mercy and kill me too….” “I feel as if the most precious thing in my whole life is about to die.”’ [15]

Eventually Mahran shows some feeling. ‘…he responded spontaneously, with a sense of gratitude, knowing her now to be the person closest to him for as long as he might live.’ [12]

It is too late. Nur leaves him. ‘Dawn was close, but Nur had not returned….’ [16]

Nur is affected by the atmosphere of death that increasingly surrounds Mahran. ‘Up in the graveyard heights a dog barked and Nur let out a long, audible sigh.’ [11]

The dog is symbolic. Mahran calls his enemies dogs. ‘“You dogs, you!” he roared in a frenzy of rage….’ [18]

It is the dogs finally that trap him. ‘…he heard dogs beginning to bark in the distance…. The dogs had come at last and there was no hope left.’ [18]

Being with Nur only serves to underline how alone Mahran is. ‘Now he was alone in the full sense of the world….’ [10]

In isolation Mahran has little defence against ‘…his latent insanity….’ [10] In that state Mahran begins to imagine he is a great man and will do great things. ‘He was the very centre of the news, the man of the hour, and the thought filled him with both apprehension and pride….’  ‘He felt sure he was about to do something truly extraordinary, even miraculous….’ [10]

In some people’s eyes he becomes a popular hero. ‘“I’ve heard many people express their admiration for you.”’ [11] This is emphasised. ‘“People are talking about you… as if you were some storybook hero.”’ [12]

Said finally comes to believe it himself. ‘“They, the people, everyone… are on my side, and that’s what will console me in my everlasting perdition….”’ [14]

Said’s world is becoming dangerous. His friend the café owner cannot help him anymore. ‘“Even my café is no longer safe for you…. Go into hiding. But forget about trying to get out of Cairo for a while.”’ [12]

Rauf Ilwan continues the campaign in his newspaper. Ilwan and Mahran are more like each other than they seem. Said sees Ilwan as a great man. He sees himself as a popular hero.

Said wants revenge. Similarly, Ilwan is vindictive. ‘Rauf Ilwan would never rest until the noose was around his neck….’ [12]

Said cannot establish the whereabouts of Ilish Sidra. ‘So Ilish Sidra has slipped out of his clutches….’ [13]

Instead of giving up, he goes further. ‘Rauf, the only hope I have left is you….’ [13]

Mahran attempts to murder Ilwan. He knows it is pointless. ‘”It’s senseless, all of it, a waste. No bullet could clear way its absurdity. But at least a bullet will be right, a bloody protest….”’ [14]

It is not enough for Mahran simply to kill Ilwan. He is self-dramatising. He wants Ilwan to know who his killer is. ‘“Rauf! This is Said Mahran! Take that!”’ [14]

In announcing himself to his intended victim, Mahran alerts a hidden guard. ‘But before he could fire, a shot from within the garden, whistling past him very close, disturbed his aim.’ [14]

Mahran flees. He doesn’t know if his shot has found its mark. ‘But had he managed to kill Rauf Ilwan? And who had shot at him from inside the garden?’ [14]

Mahran is worried that once again he has killed the wrong person. ‘Let’s hope you didn’t hit some poor innocent fellow like before.’ [14]

The papers soon confirm that Mahran’s fears are justified. ‘…the unfortunate doorkeeper had fallen. Another poor innocent killed!’ [15]

The attempted murder of Ilish was personal. Ilish was Mahran’s friend. Ilish had betrayed Mahran with Mahran’s wife.

The attempted murder of Ilwan is also personal. Ilwan was once Mahran’s best friend. But it is also political. Ilwan taught Mahran the ideals he used to justify his crimes. Ilwan betrayed those ideals.

In that it is political, the attack represents an assassination. Assassinations were the plague of Egyptian political life.

I believe that Mahfouz is saying that the danger of killing an innocent person makes assassination illegitimate. It is an argument that one could use against any act of political terror. It is perhaps ironic that Mahfouz was himself the victim at the age of eighty-two of an attempted assassination.

Nur is the voice not so much of conscience but of rationality. ‘“There’s no limit to your madness!”’ [14]

She is profoundly affected. ‘“I’m really very depressed.”’ [14]

Nur predicts the outcomes accurately. She is expressing perhaps what Mahfouz thinks of political violence. ‘“You won’t kill them. But you will bring about your own destruction.”’ [14]

Nur’s flat is not the first place that Said goes to for refuge. After his rejection by his daughter Sana, he goes to the Sufi lodge that his father used to attend. The lodge is strongly associated with memories of an innocent childhood. ‘His heart beat fast, carrying him back to a distant, gentle time of childhood, dreams, a loving father, and his own innocent yearning. He recalled the men filling the courtyard, swaying with their chanting, God’s praise echoing from the depths of their hearts.’ [2]

The location of the lodge is significant in relation to Mahfouz’s other work. ‘Here, enclosed by ridges of the Muqattam hill, was the Darasa quarter, the scene of so many pleasant memories.’ [2]

The Muqattam hills are where Qassem and his followers in Children of the Alley build their new community. It is a symbolic recreation of the hijra to Medina.

There is another allusion to Children of the Alley. ‘The simplicity of the house, which could hardly be different from those of Adam’s day, was striking.’ [2]

The protagonist of the first two parts of Children of the Alley is Adham. He is based primarily on the scriptural Adam.

Said remembers the formulae. ‘“Peace be upon you, my lord and master.”’ [2]

The Sheikh replies with the corresponding formula. His words are conventional in the context. The way he says them has a preternatural quality. ‘“Peace and compassion be upon you,” said the Sheikh in a voice like Time.’ [2]

Said makes an excuse. ‘“Forgive my coming to your house like this. But there’s nowhere else in the world for me to go.”’ [2]

There is something preternatural also in the Sheikh’s insight into Mahran’s state of mind. ‘“You seek the walls, not the heart…. You seek a roof, not an answer.”’ [2]

The Sheikh’s utterances would be comprehensible without much effort by a genuine seeker. Mahran knows he is not in a spiritual condition where he can understand. ‘I am alone with my freedom, or rather I’m in the company of the Sheikh, who is lost in heaven, repeating words that cannot be understood by someone approaching hell.’  [2]

Yet he appears to trust the Sheikh. ‘What other refuge do I have?’ [2]

Mahran may be beyond spiritual help. Yet the lodge evokes genuine human feeling. ‘…he loved the dawn, which he associated with the singing of the prayer call, the deep blue sky, the smile of the approaching sunrise, and that remembered joy.’ [8]

The Sheikh does not acknowledge Mahran’s criminality. Yet he has direct insight into his state of mind. ‘“You are very wretched, my son.”’ [8]

The Sheikh responds with care. ‘“You are tired. Go and wash your face. This is your home.”’ [8]

The Sheikh does not relax his spiritual principles for Mahran. ‘“You’re responsible for both this world and the next…! ‘“You can save yourself, if you wish.”’ [17]

The Sheikh is aware that Mahran has a purely material existence. ‘“Go to sleep, for sleep is prayer for people like you,” the Sheikh said.’ [18]

On the last night of his life Mahran goes back to the lodge. When he wakes he finds that the Sheikh has provided for his material needs. ‘”He… near his pile of books some cooked meat, figs, and a pitcher of water.”’ [18] There could hardly be a more powerful image of nurturance.

Mahran has two teachers, Ilwan and the Sheikh: one material, one spiritual. He only listens to Ilwan. It is the teacher he does not listen to who cares for him.

The Thief and the Dogs is unusual as a novel about crime and a criminal. It is about human capacity for evil rather detection and pursuit. It explores the nature of evil without justifying the criminal or the crime. In that it reminds me, though the resemblance is not close, of Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment.

The Thief and the Dogs is also a political novel. Said Mahran believes that Rauf Ilwan has betrayed him by abandoning the revolutionary ideals they once shared. That is a belief that is part of Mahran’s paranoia, and his encroaching madness.

Rauf Ilwan has become a successful journalist. He has acquired a mansion which is furnished with objets d’art. He has become a bourgeois. Said Mahran, particularly in his relations with Nur and the Sheikh, remains what he has always been: a man of the people.

Ilwan, in embracing the Arab Socialist revolution and using it for his own advantage, has not just betrayed Mahran. Symbolically he has betrayed the Egyptian people.

It is a point that is a little veiled by Mahran’s paranoia. It is possible that Mahfouz was testing the censorship.

The betrayal of the Egyptian people by the bourgeoisie is a theme that Mahfouz continues to explore in Autumn Quail, The Beggar, Adrift on the Nile and Miramar.

At the time of writing (15/8/2018) I am unsure as to whether this theme also occurs in The Search (1964). The Search seems to be somewhat anomalous in this group of novels.

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