Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

Shortly before the first week had run its course Yasin began to feel bored. His lust was once more acting out the same cycle he had experienced before, as the remedy became an ailment. At least it did not come as a surprise to him. From the beginning he had harbored no good intentions whatsoever for that curious relationship and had not expected it to last. He obviously thought this romance in the parlor was no more than a passing fling but found that the woman was becoming attached to him. She wanted him and hoped he would be so satisfied with her that he would abandon the idea of marrying her daughter. He saw no alternative to humoring her, lest he put his pleasure at risk. He believed that time bore the sole responsibility for returning everything to normal.

Matters quickly sorted themselves out, probably faster than he had imagined possible. He had gone along with her, thinking that the novelty of her charms would be enough to sustain her appeal for several weeks or a month, but he must have miscalculated. Although her appearance was seductive, it had caused him to commit the greatest folly of a life littered with them. Her years lay concealed behind that beauty like a fever disguised by rosy cheeks. The pounds and pounds of flesh treasured in layers under the folds of her clothes were, as he put it, not quite as appealing when seen stripped naked, for nothing records the effects of a sad life so graphically as the human body. He even told himself, "Now I understand why women are crazy about clothes."

Considering all this, it was hardly strange that he referred to her as a "plague" once he tired of her attentions or that he should resolve to end their relationship. As his mad infatuation with her mother faded, Maryam regained her previous place in his affections. In fact, she had never lost it but had been overshadowed by this unexpected outbreak of passion like the moon obscured by a fleeting cloud. How amazing! His desire for Maryam was no longer merely a response to his insatiable lust for women, even if that was the dominant factor. His interest in her was also furthered by his longing to start a family, an eventuality he considered both desirable and predestined.

Yasin reluctantly counseled himself to be patient until Bahija returned to her senses, assuming that she would tell him one day, "We've had enough fun. Now go to your bride". But his hopes found no echo in her. She visited him persistently night after night, growing ever more overwhelming and intense. He sensed that as time passed she was beginning to believe he was rightfully hers, as though he had become her property and the pivot around which her life revolved.

She did not think of the affair as a trivial or humorous escapade, and the frivolous, fickle, and reckless character she displayed convinced him that her aberrant behavior with him at their first meeting had not been an isolated phenomenon. Feeling that she was cheap, he scorned her. To his critical eyes her defects were magnified until he was totally disgusted with her. He decided to get rid of her at the first opportunity, although he was eager to avoid any rude conduct that would strew the path to Maryam with obstacles.

One time he said, "Doesn't Maryam ask what has become of me?"

With a reassuring toss of her head, she answered, "She knows perfectly well that your family's opposed."

After some hesitation he said, "I'll tell you frankly that we used to converse occasionally on the roof and that I assured her repeatedly of my determination to marry her, regardless of opposition from any quarter…."

She gave him a piercing look and asked, "What are you trying to say?"

With feigned innocence he replied, "I mean she's heard that assurance from me and knows of my subsequent visit. She needs to be offered some convincing explanation for my disappearance."

With a nonchalance that stunned him, she said, "It won't harm her if you don't…. Not every discussion leads to a marriage proposal., and not every proposal leads to a marriage. She knows all that perfectly well". Then she continued in a low voice: "It won't hurt her to lose you. She's a young woman in her prime. She'll have a suitor tomorrow if not today."

Bahija seemed to be apologizing for her selfishness or else pointing out that it was she, not her daughter, who would be harmed by losing him. Her statement only made him more uneasy and annoyed. If that were not enough, he began to nourish fears about the effects of an affair with a woman twenty years his senior, because of the notion popular at the time that associating with a mature woman would rob a man of his youth. Thus the hours they spent together were charged for him with such tension and circumspection that he detested them.

He was in this state of mind when he ran into Maryam one day on New Street. He went up to her without any hesitation, greeted her, and walked along beside her as though he was one of her relatives. She frowned nervously, but he told her that he had been working to achieve his father's consent, which he finally had won, and that he was preparing his dwelling in Palace of Desire AJley for them. He apologized for the length of his absence, citing his many chores. Then he told her, "Inform your mother that I'll visit her tomorrow to make arrangements for the wedding."

He went off, happy that he had seized this unexpected opportunity. In his joyful exuberance he was indifferent to Bahija's possible reaction. That evening she arrived at her regular time, but devastated and agitated.

Even before she removed her veil she shouted at him, "You've sold me out, by hook and by crook."

Then she plopped down on the bed and nervously yanked off her veil. She said, "It never occurred to me that you could be so deceitful, but you're a sneaky coward like every other man in the world."

Gently and apologetically Yasin said, "It wasn't the way you imagine. The truth is that I met her by accident."

Scowling, she shouted, "Liar! Liar! By the truth of the One capable of making me see anything desirable in you, do you think I'll ever believe you again after what's happened?" Then she repeated his words in a sarcastic parody: " 'The truth is that I met her by accident.' What kind of accident, buster? Let's suppose it really was an accident. Why did you speak to her in the street in front of all the passersby? Wasn't that the act of a wicked traitor?" Returning to her parody, she said, " 'The truth is that I met her by accident.'"

Somewhat ill at ease, he said, "I suddenly found myself face to face with her. My hand stretched out to greet her. It wasn't possible for me to ignore her after our conversations on the roof…."

Her face pale with rage, she screamed, " 'My hand stretched out to greet her.' A hand doesn't reach out until you extend it. May your hand and you both be struck down. What you're saying is that you stretched your hand out to her to get rid of me."

"I had to greet her. I'm a man with feelings."

"Feelings? Where are they? You traitor and son of a traitor, may you choke on your feelings". After swallowing she continued: "What about your promise to come make all the arrangements for the wedding? Did that slip away from you too like your hand? … Speak, Mr. Sensitivity!"

With extraordinary calm he answered, "Everyone in the neighborhood knows I left my father's home in order to marry your daughter. It was impossible for me to ignore that when talking to her."

She yelled sharply, "You could have invented any excuse you wanted, if you'd had a mind to. You're not a person who is short on lies. But you wanted to get rid of me. That's the truth of it."

Avoiding her eyes, he said, "Our Lord knows of my good intentions."

She cast a long look at him and then asked defiantly, "Would you have me believe that you allowed yourself to be coerced into making this promise to her?"