The Cairo Trilogy: Palace Walk, Palace of Desire, Sugar Street

by Naguib Mahfouz

  Khadija shouted sarcastically, “Diva Munira al-Mahdiya, you renowned prima donna, please do us the favor of eating. Your servant has set the table for you.”

  This voice brought her back to her senses as though Khadija had shaken har. She fell from the Platonic world of ideal forms to reality, feeling somewhat frightened for no clear reason, since everything had passed peacefully, as she told herself All the same, her sister's voice, objecting to her singing and to her images in particular, alarmed her, possibly because Khadija was so critical toward her. Nevertheless, she set aside this momentary anxiety and responded with a brief laugh. She ran to the dining room and found that the cloth had indeed been spread and that her mother was bringing in the tray of food.

  Khadija said to her sharply the moment she entered, “You loll about, off by yourself, while I prepare everything. We've had enough singing.”

  Although Aisha usually spoke tenderly to Khadija to protect herself from Khadija's sharp tongue, the latter's insistence on reprimanding her whenever an opportunity arose occasionally made Aisha wish to rile her. Pretending to be in earnest, she said, “Didn't we agree to divide the work in the house between us? So you do the chores and I'll do the singing.”

  Khadija looked at her mother and said mockingly of her sister, “Perhaps she intends to become a professional.”

  Aisha did not get angry. To the contrary, she said, again with affected seriousness, “Why not! My voice is like a bird's, like a curlew's.”

  Although Aisha's previous words had not stirred Khadija's rage, since they were in jest, this last statement did, both because it was obviously true and because Khadija envied her the beauty of her voice along with her other attractions. So she attacked her: “Listen, madam, this is the home of an honorable man. There would be nothing wrong with his daughters having voices like donkeys, but it's a disgrace for them to be nothing but pretty pictures of no use or value.”

  “If your voice were beautiful like mine you wouldn't say that.”

  “Of course! We'd sing duets together. You'd say, ‘You there with the red stripe, you who’ - and I'd continue ‘have taken me prisoner, have pity on my humiliation.’ We'll let the lady” -pointing toward her mother “do the sweeping, scrubbing, and cooking.”

  The mother, who was accustomed to this bickering, had taken her place and implored them, “Trust in God. Sit down. Let's eat our breakfast in peace.”

  They came over and sat down. Khadija observed, “Mother, you're not fit to raise anyone.”

  Her mother muttered calmly, “God forgive you. I'll leave the child rearing to you, so long as you don't forget your own manners”. She stretched her hand out to the tray of food, reciting, “In the name of God the Merciful, the Compassionate.”

  Khadija was twenty and the eldest, except for Yasin, her half brother, who was about twenty-one. She was strong and plump, thanks to Umm Hanafi, although a trifle short. Her face had acquired its features from her parents but in a combination lacking in harmony or charm. She had inherited her mother's small, beautiful eyes and her father's huge nose, or a smaller version of it, although not small enough to be excused. While this nose on her father's face, where it fit, lent his face a noticeable majesty, it added nothing to the girl's looks.

  Aisha was in her prime at sixteen. She was the very picture of beauty. She was of slender build and figure, but in her family circle this was considered a defect to be remedied by the ministrations of Umm Hanafi. Her face was as beautiful as the moon. She had a white complexion suffused with rosy highlights and her father's blue eyes, which went well with her mother's small nose. Unlike all the others, she had golden hair, inherited from her paternal grandmother, thanks to the laws of genetics.

  It was natural that Khadija should grasp the differences between her and her sister. Neither her extraordinary proficiency in running the house and doing embroidery or her indefatigable vigor, which never dimmed or dulled, gained her anything. On the whole, Khadija felt a jealousy toward Aisha she did not bother to hide, thereby causing the beautiful girl to be upset with her frequently. Fortunately, this natural jealousy did not leave any negative residue deep in her soul. She was content to vent it through the sarcastic sauciness of her tongue. Moreover, she was a girl who, despite the handicaps nature had given her, had a heart full of affection for her family, even though she did not spare them her bitter mockery. Regardless of how long her jealousy lasted, it did not warp her disposition or become hatred or loathing.

  Although her sarcasm was humorous when aimed at a member of her family, she was a scold of the first degree with regard to their neighbors and acquaintances. Her eyes, like the needle of a compass always attracted to the magnetic pole, lit first on people's imperfections. If their shortcomings were cloaked, she contrived to uncover and enlarge them. Then she applied epithets to her victims to match their defects. They were usually known by these in the family circle.

  She called the widow of the late Mr. Shawkat, the oldest friend of her parents, “the machine gun,” because of the way her spittle flew when she talked. Umm Mary am, their next-door neighbor, she named “Could you spare?” because she borrowed household utensils from them now and then. The teacher at the Quran school of Palace Walk was the “evilest of creation” because when he taught he frequently recited this verse from the Qur'an (113:2) along with the rest of the sura and because of his ugly face. The cooked-beans vendor was “baldy” because he had no hair, the milkman “one-eye” because his vision was impaired. The nicknames she gave the members of her family were less virulent. Her mother was “the muezzin” because she rose so early, Fa rimy “the bedpost” because he was slender, and Aisha “the reed” for the same reason. Yasin she called “Bamba Kashar” after a notorious chanteuse of the day, since he was both plump a ad fastidious.

  Her outspokenness was not merely satirical. There was truly no limit to her harshness if someone got in her family's way. Then her criticism of people was violent and devoid of tolerance and forgiveness. She showed a pronounced lack of interest in the sorrows that trouble people from day to day. This harshness was displayed domestically in her unparalleled treatment of Umm Hanafi and even in her handling of the domestic animals, such as the cats, which were pampered by Aisha in ways beyond description. Her rudeness to Umm Hanafi was a subject of controversy between her and her mother. The mother treated her servants exactly like part of her family. She thought everyone was an angel and did not know how to think ill of anyone. Khadija, on the other hand, was disposed to suspect the woman, since it was her nature to be suspicious of everyone. She did not hide her fear that the servant slept too close to the storeroom. She asked her mother, “How did she get so fat? From the remedies she concocts? We all consume those and we haven't gotten fat like her. It's the butter and honey she skims off without measure when we're asleep.”

  The mother defended Umm Hanafi as best she could. When her daughter's insistence got on her nerves, she said, “Let her eat what she wants. We have lots, and her belly has limits that cannot be exceeded. We'll not go hungry in any case.”

  Khadija was not pleased by this remark. She began to examine the tins of butter and jars of honey every morning. Umm Hanafi observed this behavior with a smile. She loved the whole family for the sake of her excellent mistress.

  Khadija did not behave like this with members of her family. If one of them was indisposed, she was filled with tenderness and knew no rest. When Kamal came down with measles, she insisted on sharing his bed. She could not stand for even Aisha to be afflicted by the slightest misfortune. Her heart had no equal both in coldness and in compassion.

  When she sat down to eat she abandoned her quarrel with Aisha. She attacked the beans and eggs with an appetite that was proverbial in the family. For all of them, food, in addition to its nutritional value, ultimately served an aesthetic goal, because it was the natural foundation for becoming well rounded. They ate deliberately and painstakingly. They did their very best to chew their food thoroughly. They did not even s
low down when they were full. They kept on eating until they were stuffed, each according to her capacity. The mother was the first to finish, followed by Aisha. Khadija was left alone with the remaining food. She did not quit until all the dishes were wiped clean.

  Aisha's slenderness did not correspond to the diligence with which she ate. The magic of the fattening potions failed on her. Khadija was moved to make fun of her, suggesting that evil machinations had caused her to be soil unfit for the good seed sowed in her. She also liked to ascribe Aisha's slenderness to the weakness of her faith. She would tell her, “We all fast during Ramadan except you. You pretend to fast and then slip into the storeroom like a mouse to fill your tummy with walnuts, almonds, and hazelnuts. Then you break your fast with us so ravenously that those who have been fasting envy your appetite. But God won't bless you.”

  The breakfast hour was one of the rare times when the three women were alone. Thus it was the most appropriate occasion for them to disclose and air secrets, especially about matters they would be embarrassed to discuss when the men of the family were present. Khadija had something she wanted to say, even though she was busy eating. She remarked in a calm voice, totally different from the yell she had recently employed, “Mother, I had a strange dream.”

  In deference to her intimidating daughter, the mother replied, even before she swallowed the morsel in her mouth, “A good dream, daughter, God willing.”

  Khadija said with increased concern, “I seemed to be walking on the wall of a roof terrace. Perhaps it was the roof of our house, or another. Then an unknown person pushed me off and I fell screaming.”

  Aisha's interest was serious enough to cause her to stop eating, but her sister was silent for a short time to create the greatest possible impression. Their mother murmured, “God grant it's for the best.”

  Trying not to smile, Aisha asked, “Wasn't I the unknown person who pushed you? Isn't that so?”

  Khadija was afraid the mood would be ruined by this joke. She shouted at her, “It's a dream, not a game. Stop your foolishness”. Then, addressing her mother, she said, “I fell screaming, but I didn't hit the ground as I expected. Instead I landed on a horse that carried me off and flew away.”

  Amina sighed with relief as though she had grasped the meaning of the dream and was reassured by it. She smiled and resumed eating. Then she said, “Who knows, Khadija? … Perhaps it's your bridegroom!”

  Talk about bridegrooms was permitted only on an occasion like this and then only in the form of a terse allusion. The girl'sheart throbbed. She was apprehensive about marriage in a way she was about nothing else. She believed in her dream and the interpretation. Therefore she was overjoyed by her mother's words. y the same, she wanted to disguise her embarrassment with irony as usual, even if it was at her own expense, and said, “You think the horse is a bridegroom? My bridegroom will have to be an ass.”

  Aisha laughed till bits of food flew from her mouth. Fearing Khadija would misinterpret her laughter, she said, “You put yourself down too much, Khadija. You're just fine.”

  Eahadja cast her a glance full of suspicion and doubt. Then their mother started to speak: “You're an extraordinary girl. Who can match your skill or energy? Or your quick wit and pretty face? What more can you ask for?”

  The girl touched the tip of her nose with her finger and asked with a laugh, “Doesn't this stand in the way of marriage?”

  Smiling, her mother replied, “Nonsense … you're still young, daughter.”

  Khadija was distressed to have youth mentioned, since she did not consider herself young compared with the age most girls were when they married. She said to her mother, “You married, Mother, before you turned fourteen.”

  The mother, who was actually no less apprehensive than her daughter, replied, “Nothing comes early or late except as God grants.”

  Aisha sincerely wished: “May our Lord soon allow us to celebrate your wedding.”

  Khadija looked at her skeptically, remembering how one of the neighbor women had asked to marry Aisha to her son. Their father had refused to let the younger sister marry before the elder. She asked, “Do you really want me to marry, or do you hope it will leave the way clear for you to marry?”

  Aisha answered with a laugh, “Both.”

  6

  WHEN THEY had finished breakfast, the mother said, “Aisha, you do the laundry today and Khadija will clean the house. Afterward meet me in the oven room.”

  Arnina divided the work between them right after breakfast. They were content to be ruled by her, and Aisha would not question her assignment. Khadija would take the trouble to make a few comments, either to show her worth or to start a quarrel. Thus she said, “I'll let you clean the house if you think washing the clothes is too much. But if you make a fuss over the washing so you can stay in the bathroom till all the work in the kitchen is finished, that's an excuse that can be rejected in advance ”

  Aisha ignored her remark and went off to the bath humming. Khadija commented sarcastically, “Lucky for you that sound reverberates in the bathroom like a phonograph speaker. So sing and let the neighborshear it.”

  Their mother left the room and went through the hall to the stairs. She climbed to the roof to make her morning rounds there before descending to the oven room. The bickering between her daughters was nothing new to her. Over the course of time it had turned into a customary way of life when the father was not at home and no one could think of anything pleasant to say. She had tried to top it by using entreaty, humor, and tenderness. That was the only type of discipline she employed with her children. It fit her nature, which could not stand anything stronger. She lacked the firmness that rearing children occasionally requires. Perhaps she would have liked to be firm but was not able to. Perhaps she had attempted to be firm but had been overcome by her emotions and weakness. It seemed she could not bear for the ties between her and her children to be anything but love and affection. She let the father or his shadow, which dominated the children from afar, straighte n them out and lay down the law. Thus their silly quarrel did not weaken her admiration for her two girls or her satisfaction with them. Even Aisha, who was insanely fond of singing and standing in front of the mirror, her laziness notwithstanding, was no less skillful and organized than Khadija.

  Amina would have been justified in allowing herself long periods of relaxation, but she was prevented by a natural tendency that was almost a disease. She insisted on supervising everything in the house, no matter how small. When the girls finished their work, she would go around energetically inspecting the rooms, living areas, and halls, with a broom in one hand and a feather duster in the other. She searched the corners, walls, curtains, and all the furnishings to eliminate an overlooked speck of dust, finding as much pleasure and satisfaction in that as in removing a speck from her eye. She was by nature such a perfectionist that she examined the clothes about to be laundered. If she discovered a piece of clothing that was unusually dirty, she would not spare the owner a gentle reminder of his duty, whether it was Kamal, who was going on ten, or Yasin, who had two clear and contradictory approaches to caring for himself. He was excessively fastidious about his external appearance his suit, fez, shirt, necktie, and shoes but shockingly neglectful of his underwear.

  Naturally this comprehensive concern of hers did not exclude the roof and the pigeons and chickens that inhabited it. In fact, the time she spent on the roof was filled with love and delight from the opportunities it presented for work, not to mention the joys of play and merriment she found there. No wonder, for the roof was a new world she had discovered. The big house had known nothing of it until she joined the family. She had created it afresh through the force of her spirit, back when the house retained the appearance it had always had since being built ages before. It was her idea to have these cages with the cooing pigeons put on some of the high walls. She had arranged these wooden chicken coops where the hens clucked as they foraged for food. How much joy she got from scattering grain for the
m or putting the water container on the ground as the hens raced for it, preceded by their rooster. Their beaks fell on the grain quickly and regularly, like sewing-machine needles, leaving little indentations in the dust like the pockmarks from a drizzle. How good she felt when she saw them gazing at her with clear little eyes, inquisitive and questioning, while they cackled and clucked with a shared affection that filled her heart with tenderness.

  She loaed the chickens and pigeons as she loved all of God's creatures. She made little noises to them, thinking they understood and responded. Her imagination had bestowed conscious, intelligent life on all animals and occasionally even on inanimate objects. She was quite certain that these beings praised her Lord and were in contact, by various means, with the spirit world. Her world w:th its earth and sky, animals and plants, was a living, intelligent one. Its merits were not confined to the blessing of life, tt found its completion in worship. It was not strange, then, that, relying on one excuse or another, she prolonged the lives of the roosters and hens. One hen was full of life, another a good layer. This rooster woke her in the morning with his crowing. Perhaps if it had been left entirely to her, she would never have consented to put her knife to their throats. If circumstances did force her to slaughter one, she selected a chicken or pigeon with a feeling cose to anguish. She would give it a drink, seek God's mercy fo r it, invoke God's name, ask forgiveness, and then slaughter it. Her consolation was that she was exercising a right that God the Benefactor had granted to all those who serve Him.

  The m ost amazing aspect of the roof was the southern half overlooking al-Nahhasin Street. There in years past she had planted a special garden. There was not another one like it in the whole neighboihood on any of the other roofs, which were usually covered with chicken droppings. She had first begun with a small number of pots of carnations and roses. They had increased year by y ear and were arranged in rows parallel to the sides of the walls. They grew splendidly, and she had the idea of putting a trellis over the top. She got a carpenter to install it. Then she planted both jasmine and hyacinth bean vines. She attached them to the trellis and around the posts. They grew tall and spread out until the area was transformed into an arbor garden with a green sky from which jasmine flowed down. An enchanting, sweet fragrance was diffused throughout.