Naguib Mahfouz - Sugar Street

"Yes, or even heavier… but in the heat of the struggle, I was as energetic as a bee. The day of the great battle, I walked at the head of the demonstration with my brother, who was the first martyr of the nationalist movement. I heard the whine of the bullet as it sailed past my ear and landed in my brother. What a memory! If he had lived, he would have been one of the select group of cabinet ministers who first rose to prominence during the revolution."

"But you're the one who survived!"

"Yes, but it wasn't possible for me to become a cabinet minister with only the elementary certificate. Moreover, in our struggle, we fought expecting death, not high office. Sa'd Zaghlul marched in my brother's funeral procession, and the leader of the students introduced me to him. That's another momentous memory."

"In view of your dedication to the revolutionary cause, how did you find time to raise cain and fall in love?"

"Listen to that, will you! Aren't the soldiers who screw women in the streetshere the same ones who routed Rommel? Armed struggle has no distaste for fun. Don't you realize that alcohol is an essential part of heroism? The combatant and the drunkard are brothers, you genius."

"Didn't Sa'd Zaghlul say anything to you at your brother's funeral?"

The attorney answered for Yasin: "Sa'd told him, wish you'd been the martyr and not your brother.' "

They laughed, for they had reached the point of laughing first and asking why later. Yasin joined in the laughter magnanimously and then continued his lecture: "He did not say that, God rest his soul. He was polite, unlike you, and knew how to have a good time. For this reason, he was broad-minded. He was a politician, a freedom fighter, a man of letters, a philosopher, and a jurist. One word from him could mean life or death."

"May God be compassionate to him."

"And to everyone else. All the dead deserve God's mercy, by the very fact that they've lost their lives … even the prostitute, the pimp, and the mother who sent her son to fetch her boyfriend."

"Would a mother do that?"

"Everything you can imagine and lots that you can't exist in this life."

"Wouldn't she find someone to send besides her son?"

"Who takes better care of a woman than her son? And aren't you all products of sexual intercourse?"

"Legal intercourse."

"A mere formality… it comes down to the same thing. I've known unfortunate prostitutes whose bed didn't entertain a lover for a week or more. Show me any of your mothers who went that long without a visit from her husband."

"I've never known any people besides the Egyptians to be so interested in discussing their mothers' reputations."

"We're not very polite."

Yasin laughed and replied, "Time has disciplined us too often. When excessive emphasis is placed on something, the opposite occurs. That's why we're rude but generally good-natured. In the end, most of us repent."

"I'm a pensioner, and I haven't repented yet."

"Repentance doesn't follow the civil service structure. Besides, you're not doing anything wrong. You get drunk several hours every night, and there's no harm in that. One day ill health or the doctor they amount to the same thing will prevent you from drinking. By nature we're weak. Otherwise we would not have developed a taste for liquor and we would not put up with married life. With the passing days we grow ever weaker, but our desires remain limitless. How absurd: We suffer and then get drunk again. Our hair goes gray, betraying our age, and some insolent oaf accosts you on the street, saying, 'You shouldn't be chasing women now that your hair is white.' Glory to God! 'What difference does it make to you whether I'm young or old and chasing a woman or a donkey?' You may imagine at times that people are conspiring with your wife against you. Add to that, the officer's truncheon and the aggravations of coquetry, for even the serving girl struts flirtatiously through the vegetable market. You find yourself in a quarrelsome world without a friend to your name save the bottle. Then along come mercenary physicians to tell you as bluntly as possible: 'Don't drink!' "

"Even so, do you deny that we love this world with all our hearts?"

" With all our hearts! Even evil has some good in it. Even the English have redeeming qualities. I once knew some of them intimately. I had some English friends during the revolutionary era."

The attorney cried out, "But you were fighting against them! Have you forgotten?"

"Yes… yes. There's a time and place for everything. I was once suspected of being a spy, but the leader of the students rushed to my aid in the nick of time to tell the crowd who I really was. Then they cheered me. That was in the mosque of al-Husayn!"

" 'Long live Yasin! Long live Yasin!' But what were you doing in the mosque of al-Husayn?"

"Answer him! This is an extremely important point."

Yasin laughed and replied, "We were at the Friday prayer sendee. My father used to take us with him to the Friday prayers. Don't you believe it? Ask the people at al-Husayn."

"You prayed to butter up your father?"

"By God… don't think ill of us. We're a religious family. Yes, we're dissolute inebriates, but we all plan to repent eventually."

Moaning, the attorney asked, "Shouldn't we sing a bit more?"

Yasin shot back, "Yesterday when I left the bar singing, a policeman stopped me and cried out to warn me: 'Mister!' I asked him, 'Don't I have a right to sing?' He answered, 'Screeching after midnight is forbidden.' I protested, 'But I'm singing!' He said sharply, 'As far as the law's concerned it's all the same thing.' I asked, 'What about bombs that explode after midnight — shouldn't that be considered screeching?' He answered threateningly, 'It's plain that you want to spend the night at the station.' I backed away, saying, 'No, I'd rather spend the night at home.' How can we be a civilized nation when we're ruled by soldiers? At home you find your wife on the lookout for you, at the ministry there's your boss, and it's said that even in the grave two angels with truncheons will be waiting to examine you."

The attorney suggested again, "Let's have a tidbit of singing to go with our drinks."

The dean of all pensioners cleared his throat and began to chant: My husband took a second wife When wedding henna still was fresh Upon my hands. The day he brought Her home, her presence seared my flesh.

With savage enthusiasm they took up the refrain. Yasin was laughing so hard that tears came to his eyes.

Khadija often felt lonesome. Ibrahim Shawkat tended to stay home all winter long especially now that he was approaching seventy but his presence did little to drive away her loneliness. Performing her household chores hardly lessened it either, for they were no longer arduous enough to absorb all of her energy. Although over forty-six, Khadija was still strong and active — and even plumper. Worst of all, her career as a mother had ended before she could assume that of a mother-in-law. It appeared that she would be permanently denied this opportunity, since one of tier daughters-in-law was also her niece and the other worked outside the home and thus was visible only on rare occasions.

In a conversation with her husband, who was wrapped up in his cloak, she voiced her buried feelings: "Our sons have been married for more than a year, and we haven't lit any candles for a baby yet."

The man shrugged his shoulders but did not reply. She continued: 'Perhaps Abd al-Muni'm and Ahmad consider having children a fad as outmoded as obeying their parents."

The man answered irritably, "Calm down. They're happy, and that should be enough for us."

She asked sharply, "If a bride doesn't get pregnant and have children, what use is she?"

"Perhaps your sons don't share that opinion."