Tariq Ali - The Stone Woman

I did not sleep that night. Her pitiless cruelty left me with no choice. I thought of the two beautiful children I adored. It was difficult to think of them as not belonging to me. I was tempted to see their little trusting faces for the last time, but I resisted the urge. I packed a little valise and walked out of the house at the first sign of dawn.

The streets were empty. The only noise was that of the seagulls scavenging for food. The beautiful sky was red at the edges and slowly turning pink. I couldn’t help contrasting the beauty of nature with the ugliness of what Mariam had done to my life. I walked to Hamid Bey’s house. Maria the crone opened the door, clutching her rosary. For the first time she looked at me with sympathy and patted my back as I entered the hall. Perhaps the pain etched on my face attracted her sympathy. Perhaps she knew. Hamid Bey came down the stairs, took one look at me and realised what had happened. He embraced me warmly and asked Maria to bring us some coffee.

I sat down on a large sofa, whose frame had probably been constructed by Marco, and told Hamid Bey the whole story, just as I am telling you, Stone Woman. I hid nothing. I did not spare his feelings. I did not care that she was his daughter. I was bitter and angry. He heard me in complete silence and then said, “She has turned out just like her mother. Leave Alexandria today, my son, and think of Mariam as dead. It will take a few years, but you will recover. I will make sure all your affairs are in order. I do not know what will become of Mariam, but she remains my child and I will provide for her. Perhaps she will move back here with her children. Let that not concern you any longer. Consider yourself free of any responsibilities and re-make your life somewhere else, Salman Pasha.” And with these words he embraced me once again. There was sadness in his eyes as we parted and he muttered a few words almost as if to himself: “She who was the wife of a prince has become the keep of a carpenter.”

I left Alexandria the next day on a boat bound for the East. I spent a year in Tokyo, which was so different from our world that it distracted me from the pain and grief I had left behind in Alexandria. The mind has a capacity to relegate unwanted baggage to its most secret recesses. I was never fully cured. Memories of those early days of happiness sometimes came flooding back and I fought hard to drive them away by recalling the ugliness of the last week or the cruel words that she had deployed to kill our love.

My Uncle Kemal was also in that part of the world, expanding his fleet of merchant ships, opening new offices in Tokyo and Shanghai and seeking solace in the arms of his numerous mistresses. I had met one of them in Tokyo. He had decided that there should be no secrets between us and introduced me to her. She was beautiful and, on the surface, submissive in her exquisitely embroidered red silk kimono.

She had prepared a meal for us and I was, frankly, horrified when she sat cross-legged with us on the floor, but did not touch her food till she had fed my Uncle Kemal. She did so with some delicacy. The fish never escaped from the little sticks as she dipped it in a tasty sauce and popped it into my uncle’s mouth. I could see why he spent so much time in the East. He had never been happy with his wife. How could such a good-looking man with a passion for finery and a strong sensuality have married a woman with no redeeming qualities? He could never understand why I was puzzled by his choice and would say, with a touch of irritation, “Do you think I would have agreed to the marriage if her dowry had not been able to finance my shipping company? I always loved boats and the sea. So I thought if I had to marry this midget and fertilise her with my sperm, I must make sure the means of escape was always nearby. There are times, Salman, when one is forced to sacrifice long-term happiness in favour of short-term gain. What is really annoying is that all my daughters have inherited their mother’s shape, size and stupidity. It will require three very generous dowries to have them removed from the house. I mean, can you imagine anyone, and I really mean anyone, falling in love with any of them? The pity is that I love Istanbul more than your other uncle and your father. Iskander loves Paris. Memed is besotted with Berlin. I have remained faithful to my Istanbul, but the beauty of the city has become associated in my mind with the never-ending ugliness that greets me at home. So I escape and, as you can see, I am happy here. I prefer Tokyo to Shanghai. Here I can submerge myself in the landscape. Shanghai is too noisy and too filthy. I never feel safe in its streets.”

I was keen to visit China, Stone Woman, and for many reasons, but Uncle Kemal suggested I return to Istanbul. “They worry about you,” he said. “They imagine you are still in Egypt. I think you need them a little now. Solitude cannot help you any more. You can always come back to me later. You have always been like a son to me, but now we have also become friends and this is a rare pleasure at this stage of one’s life.”

I followed his advice and returned to Istanbul. I was there when my father suffered a stroke and I rushed here with Halil. Remember Halil when he was little? Full of mischief. Who would have thought he would be a general?

When I first came here I was gripped by a severe depression and unable to focus on anything, but the clouds have lifted at last, Stone Woman. My father and I have never been as close as we are now. I love Nilofer’s children and soon I will tell her my story so that she knows why I do not speak of “my children”. And as for General Halil Pasha, what can I say? He, of all people, has reawakened my youthful interest in politics and history. We are on the verge of big changes, Stone Woman. Everything could be different. The inertia that has always marked our lives could be swept away by a tidal wave of reform. It is in times like these that one realises that there are other joys in this world apart from those of love and union with the beloved.

All will change, Stone Woman, and it will change soon, but I hope you will always remain to provide comfort for those who find it difficult to tolerate pain in silence.’

Nilofer is overcome by longing for Selim and decides to marry him; the Baron refuses to discuss Stendhal on love

NEWS THAT ISKANDER PASHA’S speech had miraculously returned and he was speaking again without impediment had reached Istanbul. Letters and messages from friends and officials began to arrive here at an alarming rate. Some saw in his recovery the invisible but omnipresent goodness of Allah. Others felt it was a strong omen.

The Grand Vizier himself despatched a special messenger with a letter congratulating Iskander Pasha on his recovery and inviting him, on behalf of the Sultan, to attend an audience at the palace as soon as he returned to the capital. The letter ended with the following sentence: “You will no doubt be amused to hear that the Austrians are running into serious trouble in Serbia. When I informed His Majesty, he smiled and remarked, ‘May Allah help those ungodly Serbs to drive the Emperor’s soldiers back to Vienna.’ I told him that you would appreciate this remark and he very graciously gave me permission to repeat it to you.”

After we had all read the letter in turn, Salman rose to his feet and began to mimic the Vizier’s servility with exaggerated and slightly vulgar gestures, common to sycophants the world over, while all the time he kept repeating the last sentence over and over again. Everyone present began to laugh, with the exception of poor Zeynep. Her husband worked at the palace as a secretary and was, everyone supposed, loyal to his masters. Even if he had been secretly disgusted with what was taking place he had not informed his wife. Zeynep had been growing more and more alarmed by the goings-on in this house. I think that is why she decided to leave immediately for Istanbul — or it may have been that she was missing her children and felt that since Iskander Pasha had recovered fully, there was no need for her to remain here any longer.