Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

She had another question for him: "Have you read any French stories?"

"Some by Michel Zevaco, in translation. You know I can't read French."

She said enthusiastically, "You won't be an author until you master French. Read Balzac, George Sand, Madame de Stael, and Pierre Loti. After that write your story."

Kamal said disapprovingly, "A story? That's a rather marginal art form. I aspire to do serious work."

Husayn said earnestly, "In Europe the story is considered a serious art form. Some writers there concentrate on it to the exclusion of all other types of writing. This is the way they've achieved the status of immortals. I'm not throwing praise around blindly. The French professor confirmed that."

Kamal shook his large head skeptically, and Husayn resumed speaking: "Be careful not to make Ai'da angry. She's a reader who delights in French stories. In fact, she's one of their heroines."

Kamal leaned over a little to observe her reaction to Husayn's comment, seizing this opportunity to fill his eyes with the gorgeous sight. Then he asked, "How did that happen?"

"She gets all caught up in the stories, and her head is crammed with an imaginary life. Once I saw her strutting in front of a mirror. When I asked her what she was doing, she said, 'Aphrodite used to walk like this along the beach at Alexandria.'"

Frowning and smiling at the same time, Ai'da said, "Don't believe him. He's more immersed in the world of the imagination than I am. But he's not satisfied until he accuses me of things that aren't true."

"Aphrodite?" Kamal wondered. "What's Aphrodite compared with my beloved? By the truth of your perfection, I'm sad to have you imaane yourself in any form but your own."

He commented sincerely, "You're not to blame. The heroes of al-Manfduti and Rider Haggard have made a big impression on ray imagination."

Husayn laughed delightedly and cried out, "How fitting it would be for all of us to be united in a single book. Why should we stay here on the ground, since we're so drawn to the world of the imagination? It's up to you. Bring this dream to reality. I'm not a writer and don't want to be, but you would be able to bring us together, if you so desired, in one book."

"A'ida in a book of which you would be the author…" Kamal marveled to himself. "Worship, mysticism, or insanity?"

"And me?" Budur's voice burst out suddenly in protest. The three others roared with laughter.

Husayn cautioned Kamal: "Don't forget to reserve space for Budur."

Hugging the little girl affectionately, Kamal said, "You'll be on the first page."

Ai'da looked off to the horizon and asked, "What will you write about us?"

He did not know what to say. He hid his confusion with a feeble laugh, but Husayn replied for him: "Like all the other authors, he'll write a violent love story ending with death or suicide. They kick your heart around, but it's all a game to them."

"I hope only it's the hero who meets this end," Ai'da said with a laugh.

"The hero is unable to imagine his beloved perishing," Kamal thought. He asked, "Is it mandatory that it should end with death or suicide?"

"That's the normal ending for a passionate love story."

"When one is fleeing from pain," Kamal reflected, "or trying to hold on to happiness, death seems a valid goal."

Then he said ironically, "A very distressing business!"

"Haven't you learned that? It seems you haven't been in love yet."

"There comes a moment in the lives we lead," Kamal told himself, "when weeping serves the purpose of the anesthetic in a surgical operation."

Husayn continued: "To rne the important thing is that you save a place in your book for me, even if I'm out of the country."

Kamal gave him a long look and asked, "Are you still seduced by the notion of traveling?"

A serious note crept into Husayn Shaddad's voice as he said, "Every moment! I want to live. I want to be everywhere, far and wide, high and low. Then let death come, after that."

"What if it came before?" Kamal wondered. "Could that happen? What of the sorrow that's almost killing you? Have you forgotten Fahmy? A life isn't always judged by its length. Your life, Fahmy, was a brief moment, but it was complete. Otherwise, what's the use of virtue and immortality? But you're sad for another reason. It's hard for you to contemplate dispassionately separation from your friend who is so keen to travel. What will your world be like after he's left? What will become of you if his trip separates you from the mansion of your true love? How deceptive today's smiles are. She's at hand now. Her voice tickles your ear, and her perfume your nose. But can you stop the wheel of time? Will you spend the rest of your life circling round her mansion at a distance, like the fabled lunatic lovers of old?"

"If you want my opinion, you should postpone your travels until you've finished your studies."

Ai'da said eagerly, "That's what Papa has told him repeatedly."

"It's sound advice."

Husayn asked sarcastically, "Is it necessary for me to memorize civil and Roman law in order to savor the beauty of the world?"

Still addressing Kamal, A'ida said, "Father hasheaped scorn on Husayn's dreams. He hopes to see his son in the judiciary or working in finance like him."

"The judiciary, finance! I'm not going to join the judiciary. Even if I get my degree and seriously consider choosing a profession, my interest will be in the diplomatic corps. And as for money, do you want more? We're already unbearably rich."

"How amazing that a man's wealth can be unbearable," mused Kamal. " Long ago you thought you would be like your father and own a safe similar to his. Wealth is no longer one of your dreams, but don't you wish you could liberate yourself from material concerns to embark on spiritual adventures? How wretched life is when it's devoted solely to earning a living."

"No one in my family understands my hopes. They think I'm a spoiled child. My mother's brother once said sarcastically so I could hear, 'Wouldn't you have expected the only boy in the family to turn out better than this?' Why should they feel like this? It's because I don't worship wealth and prefer living to making money. You see? Our family believes that any effort not leading to an increase in wealth is a foolish waste of time, and you find them dreaming of titles, as though they were a lost paradise. Do you know why they love the Khedive Abbas II? Mama has often told me, 'If only Our Effendi Abbas had stayed on the throne, your father would have been named a pasha long ago.' Precious money is scorned and spent with abandon if a prince honors us with a visit". Then, laughing, he added, "Don't forget to record these foibles if you ever get around to writing the book I proposed."

He had scarcely finished speaking when Aida told Kamal, "I hope you won't be influenced by the prejudices of my disrespectful brother and slander our family in your book."

Kamal replied in a worshipful tone, "God forbid that I should ever say anything against your family. Moreover, there's nothing disgraceful in what he alleged."

Ai'da laughed triumphantly, and Husayn smiled with relief, although his eyebrows were raised in mock astonishment. Kamal felt that Husayn was not totally sincere in his attack on his family. He did not question Husayn's statement that he did not worship wealth and preferred living to making money. Yet Kamal imagined that Husayn's comments about the Khedive, titles, and entertaining princes had slipped out as boastful criticism, not just oboasts or criticism. Husayn appeared to be bragging about these things with his heart but condemning them with his mind. Or perhapshe resented them but saw nothing wrong in mentioning them to a friend whom they would dazzle and fascinate, even if he deplored them too.

Smiling calmly, Husayn asked, "Which of us is to be the book's central character? Me, Ai'da, or Budur?"