Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

At a time like that any previous year he would have begun asking h imself fretfully when his friends would return. Now his desires were not tied to anyone's return. They would still be aflame whether or not October arrived and whether his friends returned or not. He would no longer be blaming the summer months for separating him from A'ida; an abyss much more profound than time had come between them. When time was the problem, he had been able to combat it with doses of patience and hope. Today he was fighting an unknown foe and a mysterious, supernatural force. He did not know a single word of the spells or charms used for it. He could only fall back on a wretched silence until God concluded what He had begun. Love seemed to be suspended over his head like destiny, and he was fastened to it with bonds of excruciating pain. It resembled a force of nature more than anything else in its inevitability and strength. He studied it sadly and respectfully.

The three friends said goodbye in front of the Shaddad family mausion. Hasan Salim went on down Palaces Street, while Kamal and Isma'il as usual headed for al-Husayniya together. There they would part, with Isma'il going to Ghamra and Kamal to the ancient district. As soon as the two of them were alone, Isma'il laughed hard and long.

When Kamal asked him what was so funny, he replied mischievously, "Haven't you figured out yet that you're one of the main reasons speeding up the announcement of this engagement?"

"Me?" This slipped out from Kamal, whose eyes were wide with astonishment.

Isma'il said scornfully, "Yes, you. Hasan wasn't comfortable about your friendship with her. I feel certain of this, even though he never breathed a word of it. As you know, he's really stuck-up. But I find out what I want to. I assure you he was unhappy about your friendship. Do you remember that flare-up between you two? It's obvious that he asked her to stop visiting Husayn's friends, it's equally apparent that she reminded him that he had no right to request that. So he took this major step to get the right."

The pounding of his heart almost drowned out his voice when Kamal said, "But I wasn't the only friend. A'ida was friends with all of us."

Isma'il replied sarcastically, "But she chose you to arouse his anxiety, perhaps because she sensed in your friendship a warmth she did not find with the others. In any case, she was not just reacting randomly to the situation. She decided long ago to win Hasan. Finally she's harvesting the fruit of her patience."

" 'Win Hasan'!" Kamal exclaimed to himself. " 'The fruit of her patience'! These phrases are like a fool's statement that the sun rises in the west."

With a sad heart, Kamal said, "How little you think of people! She's not at all the way you portray her."

Without grasping what his friend felt, Isma'il answered, "Perhaps it happened by chance. Hasan may have been imagining things. In any case, it all worked out to her benefit."

Kamal shouted angrily, "Her benefit'! What do you think? Glory to God, you speak as though her engagement to Hasan is a triumph for her, not for him."

Isma'il looked at him strangely and then said, "You don't seem to be convinced that men like Hasan are few and far between. He offers family, status, and a future. There are plenty of girls like A'ida … more of them than you think. I wonder if you don't have a higher opinion of her than she deserves. In my opinion, Hasan's family agreed to let him marry her because of her father's immense fortune. She's a girl" he hesitated before continuing "whose beauty is not extraordinary at any rate."

"Either he's crazy or you are," Kamal thought. He was transfixed by a pain comparable to that he had felt on reading an offensive attack against the Islamic system of marriage. "God's curse on all unbelievers!"

With a calmness that masked his anguish, he asked, "Then why does she have so many admirers?"

Isma'il disdainfully stuck out his lower jaw while tilting up his chin. "Perhaps you count me among them," he said. "I don't deny that she's amusing and elegant. And her Western upbringing has provided her social graces that make her seem particularly charming and attractive. All the same, she's dark and thin. There's nothing especially seductive about her. Come with me to Ghamra and you'll see all types of beauty. They leave hers in the shade, whether taken as a whole or singly. There you'll see true loveliness … fair complexions, swelling breasts, and plump hips. If you want beauty, this is it. There's nothing really desirable about A'ida."

"As if she were a female to be craved like Qamar or Maryam!" ECamal told himself. "Swelling breasts and plump hips? How can you describe a spirit using corporeal expressions? What stabbing pain!" It had been decreed that he should swallow the cup of anguish down to its dregs. Since lethal blows were falling in swift succession, death would be a mercy.

At al-Husayniya they parted, and each went his separate way.

Over the years his love for this street had never waned. Looking sadly at his surroundings, he mused, "If only my love for a woman were as constant as mine for this street, I'd escape many problems. What an excellent street… like a labyrinth!"

Every few meters it turned to the right or left. No matter where a person stood, he was always confronted by a curve, behind which an unknown world lay concealed. Narrowness gave the road an unassuming, familiar character, like that of a pet animal. A man sitting in a shop on the right could reach over and shake hands with his neighbor on the other side. Stretched between the tops of the stores, canvas awnings protected the street from the burning rays of the sun. Beneath them the humidity and diffused light created a dreamy atmosphere. Bunched together on shelves and benches were sacks of green henna, red cayenne, and black pepper along with flasks of rose water and perfume, colored wrapping paper, and diminutive scales. Hanging from the rafters was a decorative fringe of candles of diverse sizes and colors. The fragrance of different perfumes and colognes filled the air like the aroma of a distant dream.

"The black wraps and veils, the gold nosepieces, the kohl-enhanced eyes, the heavy rumps — may He who bestows all blessings save me from them. To walk dreamily through these beautiful visions is one of my favorite sports, but I must acknowledge that it exhausts my heart and eye. If you start counting the women here, you'll never finish. What a blessed place it is that brings all of them together. The only way to protect yourself is to cry out from the depths of your heart, 'Yasin, you house wrecker!' A voice tells me that I should open a shop in al-Tarbi'a Alley and settle down. Your father's a merchant. He's his own boss. He spends much more on his amusements than you get from your salary. Open a store and put your trust in God, even if you have to sell the apartment in al-Ghuriya and the shop in al-Hamzawi. You arrive in the morning like a sultan. You're not bound to any schedule. There's no supervisor to terrify you. You sit behind the scales, and women come to you from every direction. 'Good morning, Mr. Yasin.'

'Stay healthy, Mr. Yasin.' I would have only myself to blame if I let a chaste woman pass without a greeting and a shameless one without a date. What a sweet idea this is, but what a cruel one for someone who will remain an officer of al-Nahhasin School to the end of his days. Love's a disease. Among its symptoms are constant hunger and a fie kle heart. Have mercy, God, on one You created with the appetite of a caliph or sultan but gave the job of a school disciplinarian. My hopes have been destroyed. It's pointless to lie to myself. The day you brought her to Palace of Desire Alley you anticipated a happy, contented life. May God destroy boredom. It pervades the soul as totally as the bad taste sickness brings to the mouth. I pursued herpassionately for a year but tired of her in a few weeks. What is misery if not this? Your home must have been the first one that ever overflowed with complaints during the honeymoon. Ask your heart what place Maryam has in it now and where the beauty is that drove you crazy. Let it reply with a laugh like a moan, 'We ate till we were full. Then we couldn't even stand the smell of food.' She's clever. It's hard to put something over on her. Nothing, escapes her. She's a bitch and the daughter of one. Remember the virtues of your deceased family members. Was your mother any better than hers? The important thing is that, unlike Zaynab, Maryam's not easy to deceive. How hard her anger is to bear when she gets annoyed…. She's not willing to close her eyes, and you're not easily satisfied. It's absurd to think that your fiery craAdngs can ever be met by one woman or that your heart will settle down. Even so, you hoped to achieve a happy married life. How magnificent your father is and how vile you are. … You haven't been able to follow his example, even though that would have saved you. O Lord, what's this I see? Is it really a woman? How many hundred pounds do you suppose she weighs? My God, I've never seen a woman so tall and wide. How can you take possession of this fiefdom? I swear if a woman her size fell into my hands, I'd stretch her out naked in the center of the room and circle her ritually seven times, as if she were a shrine, before putting it in her."