Palace of Desire tct-2

by Naguib Mahfouz

  "Do you know what other consequences there were to loving you despite your tyranny? I loved another tyrant who was unfair to me for a long time, both to my face and behind my back. She oppressed me without ever loving me. In spite of all that, I worshipped her from the depths of my heart and still do. You're as responsible for my love and torment as anyone else. I wonder if there's any truth to this idea. I'm not satisfied with it or overly enthusiastic about it. Whatever the reality of love may be, there's no doubt that it's attributable to causes more directly linked to the soul. Let's allow this to ride until we can study it later. In any case, Father, you're the one who made it easy for me to accept oppression through your continual tyranny.

  "And you, Mother, don't stare at me with disapproval or ask me what I've done wrong when I've harmed no one. Ignorance is your crime, ignorance … ignorance … ignorance. My father's the manifestation of ignorant harshness and you of ignorant tenderness. As long as I live, I'll remain the victim of these two opposites. It's your ignorance, too, that filled my spirit with legends. You're my link to the Stone Age. How miserable I am now as I try to liberate myself from your influence. And I'll be just as miserable in the future when I free myself from my father.

  "It would have been far better if you had spared me such exhausting effort. For this reason, I propose — with the darkness of this room as my witness that the family be abolished, for it's nothing but a pit in which brackish water collects, and that fatherhood and motherhood cease. Indeed, grant me a nation with no history and a life without a past. Let's look in the mirror now. What will we see? This enormous nose and huge head…. You mercilessly gave me your nose, Father, without consulting me and thus treated me unjustly even before I was born. On your face it has an august majesty, but its shape and size look ludicrous on a narrow one like mine, where it stands out like an English soldier at a gathering of Sufi mystics. Even stranger than that's my head, because it's of a different type than either yours or my mother's. What distant grandfather bequeathed it to me? I'll continue to hold both of you responsible until I learn its true origin.

  "Just before we go to sleep we ought to say, 'Farewell,' because we may never wake up. I love life, despite what it's done to me, just as I love you, Father. There are things about life worth loving, and its page is covered with question marks that evoke our wildest affection. But what's useful in life is to no avail in love. And what's most useful in love is still of little importance.

  "I probably won't drink again. Say, 'Farewell, alcohol.' But not so fast! Remember the night you left Ayusha's house fully determined never to go near a woman again as long as you lived? Then afterwards you became her favorite customer. It seems to me that all mankind is moaning from hangovers and nausea. So pray they'll have a speedy recovery."

  109

  After Kamal left his older brother alone in the carriage, Yasin's zeal dwindled. Although intoxicated, he seemed pensive. It was past i a. m., late enough to inspire doubts. If Zanuba was not awake and angrily awaiting him, she would wake when he entered. In either case, the night would not end in an entirely peaceful manner.

  He left the carriage at the corner of Palace of Desire Alley and made his way through the profound darkness. Shrugging his shoulders, he whispered to himself, "Yasin's not accountable to any woman". He repeated that statement as he mounted the steps, guiding himself in the darkness by the railing. But this reiteration did not appear totally assured. He opened the door, entered, and made his way to the bedroom by the light from a lamp in the hall. Looking at the bed, he found his wife asleep and shut the bedroom door to keep out the faint light from the hall. He began to undress quietly and cautiously, feeling increasingly confident that she was sound asleep. He sketched a plan in his mind to allow him to slip into bed without making any noise.

  "Light the lamp so I can shadow my eyes with the sight of you."

  He turned his head toward the bed and smiled with resignation. Finally, with feigned astonishment, he asked, "You're awake? I thought you were asleep and didn't want to disturb you."

  "How kind of you! What time is it?"

  "Not later than midnight. I left the gathering around eleven and walked straight home."

  "Your meeting must have been out of town then, maybe as far as Banha."

  "Why? Am I late?"

  "Wait a moment till the crowing cock provides your answer."

  "Perhapshe hasn't fallen asleep yet."

  Stripped to his shirt and underpants, he sat on the sofa to remove his shoes and socks. He saw her shadowy form sit up as the bed creaked. Then he heard her say sharply, "Light the lamp."

  "There's no need for that. I've finished undressing."

  "I want to settle accounts with you in the light."

  "Settling accounts in the dark is more fun."

  She snorted angrily and got out of bed. From his nearby seat he put out his arms, grabbed her flank, and pulled her over to the sofa. Sitting her down beside him, he remarked, "Don't make a row."

  She escaped from his grip and replied, "What's happened to our agreement? I let you get drunk in bars as often as you want on condition that you return home early. I accepted that against my better judgment, because if you did your drinking at home, you'd save a lot of money that's just wasted. Yet you come home shortly before dawn in flagrant disregard of our agreement."

  "What hope does a man have of fooling a woman who's grown up playing the lute in a troupe of musicians?" Yasin asked himself. "If she can ever prove you've been unfaithful to her, will her response be limited to a quarrel or… what? Think it over carefully and don't forget that her loss would not be a laughing matter. I love her best of all my wives. She knows exactly how to help me and takes our marriage seriously. If I just didn't get bored…."

  "I was with my usual group and stayed with them until I set out for home. I have a witness you know. Can you guess who he is?" He laughed out loud.

  But she answered coldly, "Don't change the topic."

  Still laughing, he said, "My companion tonight was my brother Kamal."

  Contrary to his expectations, she was not surprised. Her patience exhausted, she asked, "And who's testifying for the girl?"

  "Don't be difficult. My innocence is as obvious as the sun". Then he grumbled, "By God, it makes me sad that you're suspicious of my behavior. I've had more than my fill of playing around. All I want now is a quiet life. The bar's simply an innocent pastime. There's nothing objectionable about that. A man has got to see people…."

  In a passionate voice she replied, "Shame on you! You know I'm not a child. Putting something over on me is a difficult feat. It would be better for both of us if there were no room for suspicion."

  "A sermon or a threat?" Yasin asked himself. "Why can't I have a model life like my father's? The man does what he wants and finds stability, love, and obedience when he returns home. I wasn't able to realize this dream with Zaynab or Maryam, and it seems unlikely I will with Zanuba either. This beautiful lute player must find nothing to regret while she's in my care."

  He declared firmly, "If I'd wanted to violate God's laws any further, I wouldn't have married you."

  She yelled sharply, "But you'd been married twice before, and marriage didn't prevent you from doing forbidden things then."

  He exhaled a puff of breath reeking of alcohol and said, "You're in a different situation from my other wives, dummy. My first wife was chosen by my father, who imposed her on me. My second wouldn't let me touch her unless I married her. So I did. But no one imposed you on me. You didn't lock me out before we got inarried. Marrying you brought no promise of any novelty I hadn't experienced before. So, dummy, why did I marry you, unless marriage itself- in other words, a settled, stable life — was my goal? By God, if you had a speck of sense, you'd never doubt me."

  "Not even when you return at dawn?"

  "Not even if I come home in the morning."

  She cried out sharply, "Stop! If that's all you have to say, then a most cordial goodbye."

 
Frowning nervously, he snapped back, "A thousand goodbyes!"

  "I'm leaving. God's earth is vast, and God will provide me a living."

  With deliberate scorn he commented, "Do what you like."

  In a threatening voice she countered, "I'll leave, but you'll find I'm a thorn that's not easily removed."

  Still trying to sound scornful, he said, "Nonsense! Ridding myself of you would be like taking off a pair of shoes."

  Changing her tune from defiant challenge to complaint, she yelled, "Should I jump out the window so we'll both feel better?"

  He shrugged his shoulders. Then, standing up, he said in a lighter tone, "There's a better solution. That's for you to jump in bed. Let's go to sleep and send the devil packing."

  He went to the bed and stretched out, sighing as if he'd been wanting to lie down for a long time. She commented to herself, "Anyone living with you is destined to have trouble."

  "I'm destined to have trouble too," Yasin complained to himself. "Your sex is responsible. There's not a single one of you who can keep me from wanting others. You're all powerless to conquer boredom. But I won't voluntarily resume a bachelor's life, and I can't sell a store every year for a new marriage. So let Zanuba stay as long as she doesn't try to control me. A crazy man needs a clever wife … clever like Zanuba."

  "Are you going to stay on the sofa till morning?"

  "I won't close my eyes. Leave me alone and enjoy your sleep."

  "Some things are so necessary they're inevitable," he reflected. Stretching out his arms, he took hold of her shoulder. Then he drew her to him as he murmured, "Your bed!"

  She resisted a little before yielding. As she climbed in bed she said plaintively, "When will I be granted the peace of mind other women enjoy?"

  "Relax. You must have complete confidence in me. I deserve your trust. A man like me isn't happy unlesshe goes out at night. You won't find any happiness by making me unhappy and giving me a headache. All you need to do is to believe that my evening was spent innocently. Trust me. You won't regret it. I'm not a coward or a liar. Didn't I bring you to this house one night when my wife was here? Would a coward or a liar do that? I've played around enough. You're all I've got left in life."

  She sighed audibly as though wishing to say, "If only you were telling die truth…."

  He stretched his hand out playfully and remarked, "My goodness! That sigh broke my heart. May God strike me dead."

  Responding to the touch of his hand ever so gradually she said prayerfully, "If only our Lord would guide you."

  "Who'd believe a lute player would make a wish like that?" Yasin asked himself.

  "Don't ever quarrel with me. Quarreling drains our energy."

  "The cure is working," he congratulated himself. "But it won't in all sit uations. If I'd had Ayusha tonight, it wouldn't have been so easy."

  "Don't you see that your suspicions were misplaced?"

  110

  When Yasin entered the store and approached the desk, al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad was absorbed in his work. An examination of his son's face revealed immediately that Yasin had come to ask for help. There was a distracted, glazed look in the eyes of the young man, who smiled politely and leaned down to kiss his father's hand but seemed to perform these ceremonies unconsciously as his mind strayed God only knew where. When al-Sayyid Ahmad gestured for him to have a seat, he moved the chair close to his father's desk before sitting down. He looked at his father, lowered his eyes, and smiled palely. Al-Sayyid Ahmad wondered what had motivated this visit. Concerned about his son's silence, he asked curiously, "Good news? What's come over you? You're not your normal self."

  Yasin looked at him for a long time as if appealing for sympathy. Then, lowering his eyes, he said, "They're going to transfer me to the farthest reaches of Upper Egypt."

  "The Ministry?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  Shaking his head in protest, Yasin answered, "I asked the headmaster, and he mentioned things with no bearing on my work. It's unfair."

  The father asked suspiciously, "What things? Explain."

  "Vile slander…". After some hesitation he added, "About my wife Al-Sayyid Ahmad's interest was heightened. He asked his son apprehensively, "What did they say?"

  Yasin's discomfort was visible in his face as he replied, "Some fools said I'd married… a professional entertainer."

  Al-Sayyid Ahmad looked around his store anxiously. He saw Jamil al-Hamzawi waiting on customers a man standing on one side and a woman seated on the other. They were only a few feet away. Suppressing his rage, the father responded in a low voice not without a tremor of anger, "Perhaps they are fools, but I warned you about this. You do anything you want, never considering how scandalous it is, but then the consequences always catch up with you. What can I say? You're a school official, and your reputation ought to be beyond reproach. I've told you this time and again. There's no power or might save God's. It seems I must neglect all my other responsibilities in the world to care for you."

  With apparent bewilderment Yasin observed, "But she's my legal wife. How can a man be blamed for obeying religious law? And why is it the Ministry's business?"

  Restraining his fury, al-Sayyid Ahmad replied, "The Ministry must be solicitous of the reputations of its employees."

  "Shouldn't you leave talk about reputations to someone else?" Yasin asked silently.

  "But this is an unfair and unjust way to treat a married man."

  Waving his hand angrily, the father retorted, "Do you want me to set the policies for the Ministry of Education?"

  Yasin entreated him dejectedly, "Certainly not, but I hope you'll be able to stop the transfer by using your influence."

  Preoccupied by his own thoughts, al-Sayyid Ahmad began to twist his mustache as he stared blankly at Yasin, who tried to gain his father's sympathy and apologized for upsetting him. Yasin asserted that, except for God, he relied exclusively on his father. He did not leave the store until his father promised to try to block the transfer.

  That same evening al-Sayyid Ahmad went to al-Guindy's coffeehouse in Opera Square to see Yasin's headmaster, who immediately invited al-Sayyid Ahmad to join him and said, "I was expecting you. Yasin's gone too far. I regret the trouble he gives you."

  Taking a seat opposite the headmaster, on a balcony overlooking the square, al-Sayyid Ahmad said, "In any case, Yasin's as much your son as mine."

  "Of course, but this matter's out of my hands altogether. It's between him and the Ministry."

  Although there was a smile on his face, al-Sayyid Ahmad protested, "Isn't it a bit odd to punish a civil servant for marrying a musician? Isn't that a private matter? And marriage is a legal bond. No one should denigrate it."

  The headmaster frowned thoughtfully but inquisitively, as though not understanding his friend's words. Then he said, "The only mention of the marriage has been incidental and at the last minute. Don't you know the whole story? I thought you knew everything."

  The man's spirits sank. He asked anxiously, "Is there some other offense?"

  The headmaster leaned toward him a little and said sorrowfully, "The problem is, al-Sayyid Ahmad, that Yasin had a fight in Massage Alley with a whore. A police report was filed, and a copy reached the Ministry."

  The man was stunned. His pupils opened wide, and his face became pale. The headmaster shook his head sadly and commented, "That's the truth. I did my utmost to lighten the punishment and successfully scuttled the idea of handing him over to a disciplinary panel. They agreed to transfer him to Upper Egypt."

  Al-Sayyid Ahmad sighed and muttered, "The dog!"

  Gazing at him sympathetically, the headmaster said, "I'm very sorry, al-Sayyid Ahmad. But this kind of conduct is not appropriate for a civil servant. I don't deny that he's a fine young man and diligent in his work. In fact, I'll tell you frankly that I like him, not merely because he's your son but because of his personality. Yet people say the strangest things about him…. He's got to reform and change his ways or he
'll destroy his future."

  Al-Sayyid Ahmad was silent for a long time, his anger obvious from his face. Then, as though addressing himself, he exclaimed, "A fight with a whore! Let him go to hell, then."

  But he did not abandon his son. Without delay he met with acquaintances who were in parliament or distinguished in other ways and asked them to intercede to stop the transfer. Muhammad Iffat was his chief assistant in this campaign. A barrage of mediating efforts was aimed at top men in the Ministry of Education. Eventually it succeeded and the transfer was rescinded. But the Ministry insisted on assigning Yasin to a job within its secretariat. Then the head of the Ministry's records office the new husband of Yasin's first wife — announced his readiness to accept Yasin in his department, on the recommendation of his father-in-law, Muhammad Iffat, and that was agreed to. Thus early in the winter of 1926 Yasin was transferred to the records department, but he did not emerge from the scandal scot-free. An entry was made in his file that he was unfit to work in a school, and he was passed over for promotion to the seventh grade in the civil service, although he had more than ten years' service in the eighth rank immediately below it.

  By arranging this assignment to his son-in-law's department, Muhammad Iffat had meant to ensure that Yasin was well treated, but the young man was uncomfortable with working for Zaynab's husband. One day he told Kamal, "She's probably delighted by what's happened and thinks it justifies her father's refusal to return her to me. I know how women think. No doubt she's rejoicing over my misfortune. It's too bad that the only decent position I could find was working for this goat. He's so old he has nothing to offer a woman. It's absurd to think he could fill the void I left. So let the stupid woman gloat. I'm rejoicing at her loss too."