Naguib Mahfouz - Morning and Evening Talk

“They look down on us,” Samira went on. “It was the same for your aunt Matariya before.”

“How do they see themselves?” she asked furiously.

“That’s nothing to do with us. I want to trust you.…”

“You can trust me completely,” she said disgusted.

She drank pain and humiliation. However, she had inherited some of her mother’s unique personality traits, namely the ability to withstand calamity, and the relationship was severed in disdain.

She graduated and was appointed as a translator in the university administration — thanks to the good offices of senior men on her mother’s side. She caught the attention of the assistant secretary and he asked to marry her. The man was about twenty years older than her but enjoyed high rank and a good income. She weighed up the offer and decided it was perfectly suited to her circumstances; she realized too that she was more “practical” than she had thought. She was married to Sabri Bey al-Qadi in his villa in al-Qubba Gardens. Her new existence accorded her the life of plenty, doting and generous husband, and motherhood of two sons — Ali and Amr — that she desired. The July Revolution played as it liked with her family, and so her brother Hakim prospered while Salim perished. It was her good fortune that Sabri al-Qadi was related to an important officer so was quickly promoted and appointed to the post of head clerk of the ministry of culture. He was pensioned off in old age but continued to encourage her until she became a director general. She supervised Ali and Amr’s education until they entered the diplomatic service. Thus, this branch shone in the diamond era of bureaucracy and was spared the evil of the storms.

Amer Amr Aziz

THE FIRST GIFT FROM THE UNKNOWN to flood Amr and Radia’s hearts with joy, satisfaction, and pride, Amer confirmed the conviction held in Bayt al-Qadi Square that a boy is better than a girl. He came resplendent with a handsome face that borrowed the best of Radia’s features — a straight nose, high forehead, and the fine facial symmetry for which Samira would later be known. His calm nature, piety, and impulse to lead and protect came from his father. How often he would assemble his brothers and sisters on the roof to play at being the Qur’an school shaykh, wielding in his hand a stick that timidity and kindness prevented him using. He grew into a smart and elegant young man who would stroll about the city quarters smiling and musing and sit cross-legged before al-Hussein’s tomb in fervent prayer. He was always good at making friends with neighbors of his own class and higher ones, and scoundrels could never provoke him. He was also a favorite at the mansion on Khayrat Square and with the Dawud family. He did well at school, excelling in science and mathematics and, thanks to eminent relatives, was granted a remission of fees. Thus, his father was relieved of a burden he could not bear while embroiled in arranging the marriages of Sadriya, Matariya, and Samira. From childhood, Amer and Abd al-Azim Pasha Dawud’s daughter Iffat were drawn to one another. It began on the roof in the shade of the hanging washing and, with passing days and visits, developed into love and hope for the future. This all took place in secret, but exuded its scent like a rose. Love was the first thing to get the better of the arrogant girl who saw her family as superior, as though God had created no one but them for nobility.

“We’ve educated our children in European schools to make them suitable for one of the family’s doctors or public prosecutors,” Farida Hanem Husam said to Abd al-Azim.

“Amr’s my cousin. There’s no one more upright than him,” said the pasha.

The hanem shared his sentiments. She loved Radia and was particularly fond of Amer so she soon came round. Amr and Radia were delighted. Amr was proud and boastful of his grand relatives and considered a marriage connection with them a great accomplishment. Mahmud Ata Bey had been considering Amer as a husband for Shakira and when the young man fell into the hands of his rival he said to Amr, “Hamid can be Shakira’s.” With this Amr’s happiness was complete, exposing him to his brother, Surur’s, reproach. Surur blamed him for ignoring his daughters, but Amr defended his position using the beauty of Surur’s daughters, who need not fear being left behind, and the poverty of his own children who needed support, as excuses.

“They wouldn’t give you a son,” Surur said bitterly.

Amr was hurt but in his modesty simply replied, “Praise God. A man knows his place.”

Surur hid his anger. “Brother, you’ve become a dervish. You never get angry.”

Amer wanted to enter the faculty of medicine resting on his talent for science, so that he might be “suitable” for Iffat in the full sense of the word. But his father chose the teachers college because it was free of charge.

“It’s impossible to get a scholarship into medical school. The eye sees but the hand can’t provide,” he told his beloved son.

Amer was a model of obedience and accepted truths however bitter. He said to his father, feigning approval, “The teachers college is excellent at any rate.”

Iffat and her family were forbearing. Iffat told herself a teacher she loved was better than a doctor she didn’t. Amer digested his harsh disappointment and proceeded on his path crowned with success and satisfaction. He worshiped the 1919 Revolution along with the rest of his family, took part in the demonstrations, and welcomed Sa‘d with an open heart. He was in his final year at the time and working life soon took him away from the immediate action. The marriage was arranged for the following year. He became a guest in his family, in whose hearts he left nothing but goodwill, with the exception of a certain enmity between him and his brother Hamid on account of the latter’s rebellious nature and unruly behavior. How many incantations and amulets Radia expended to drive the evil spirit away from the two of them! However, as soon as they began their working lives the murk cleared. Abd al-Azim Dawud built a house for his daughter in Bayn al-Ganayin. He fitted it with electricity, a water supply, drains, and a small garden at the back, and Amer and his Europhile wife moved in to begin a long and happy married life.

The marriage shook Amr’s family from the first day. It was quite clear that the new wife was of a different species to Amer’s sisters as she had graduated from La Mère de Dieu, spoke several languages, was a skilled piano player, and knew all about France, its history and its religion, and almost nothing about her own country’s heritage or beliefs. Moreover, she prided herself on this in spite of the spirit of nationalism unleashed with the 1919 Revolution. Her strong, overpowering personality swallowed her meek, gentle husband’s and the young man did not dare remind her that fasting was a duty in Ramadan; he fasted alone and prepared his own meal before daybreak. She also dazzled him with her unintelligible conversation and skill at the piano. When Adli’s supporters came out against Sa‘d Zaghloul, Amer found himself a foreigner in the Dawud family. He avoided disturbing the peace in defense of his latent Wafdism and kept it to himself. Iffat had no serious interest in politics, though she went along with her father out of loyalty. “There’s no comparison between the noble Adli Pasha and your Azharite leader!” she would tell her husband. But Amer would smile and spurn the quarrel.

Once Abd al-Azim Dawud asked him, “Do you really believe we can bear the burden of independence?”