Customer Reviews

Palace Walk: The Cairo Trilogy, Volume 1

5 star:		(48)
4 star:		(21)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(9)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

Twelve years ago, I spent several months living in Egypt. I am an American woman, and at that time, I found much of the culture and behavior of Egyptians to be confusing. Since that time, I have married a Moroccan, and have lived in Morocco for the past ten years. I now feel that I understand much about Arab culture.

Just recently, a friend recommended I read the Cairo trilogy. I began with Palace Walk, and haven't yet read the others. This book is SUPERB. Westerners have trouble understanding how Middle Easterners THINK. This book is so wonderful because it takes you inside the mind of each of the characters, in turn, chapter-by-chapter, showing you how each one of them thinks, and allowing you to see their motivations for their behavior. One person commmented in their book review that the majority of the book concentrated on the male characters. There is a reason for this. Egyptian society is mostly about men, not about women. Even as the society modernizes, the THINKING stays the same. Mahfuz has done a masterful character study of each character in the book, as they go therough their daily lives. Without yet having read the two subsequent books, I expect that I will get more in depth into the women's lives in Sugar Street, because this is the house to which the two female daughters have moved upon their marriages to two brothers.

In the past, I have tried to read some other books by this author, and just couldn't get into them. These books are different. They really do merit the Nobel Prize. Reading them now, after being immersed in the Arab culture for 12 years, I see so many more things than I would have noticed had I read the books first. But living in this culture, I can see how accurate they are, and how the men really DO behave and think like the characters in these books! Aside from the all this, the story line is wonderful, too. I had trouble putting the book down after having read the first few pages. I recommend these books to anyone who would really like to understand the Middle Eastern culture.

The Cairo trilogy (Palace Walk, Palace of Desire, Sugar Street) tells the story of a middle-class Egyptian family. The story opens during the allied occupation of Cairo during WWI and continues through Cairo of WWII when the Germans were defeated at El Alamein.

Although the story can be read at several levels, the most interesting is its exposition of the lives of the family members. The father and his three sons enjoy the public life of school, work, and the clandestine life of coffee shops, bars, and brothels. The mother and daughters pass their days enclosed within a comfortable but emotionally stifling walled home and the internal life.

The background of this family tale is set against the ongoing political struggles of the period, when Egypt was ruled by the British. Unless one is familiar with the political history of modern Egypt, much of this context is difficult to comprehend.

Reading in English translation and in the context of a foreign culture, it is quite difficult to assess this work. I can only say that it reveals a culture and mindset which is quite foreign to me as an American reader. It is this alien atomosphere which is one of the work's main attractions. Nothing happens as one expects it to ... just like life itself. It also goes a long way to explain why the British occupiers didn't get it either.

In conclusion, the writing in translation is sufficient to make us care about and suffer with the characters. Ultimately, that is reason enough to read.

I first read this book in Kuwait. My dog-eared copy still has sand in the pages, so they make a desert noise when I turn them. It always takes me straight back...

Mahfouz is not easy for an American reader. We like to know what's about to happen, and we like the story to "get there" in a few strokes (witness Tom Clancy.) The language is beautiful--too beautiful for many Americans-- and the setting is so real, so evocative that I can smell Egypt when I'm reading this trilogy (or is that the sand again?)

If you feel like you need to warm up to this series, I suggest that you start with "Miramar" or, better yet, "Arabian Nights and Days." Mahfouz's work is always allegorical; characters reflect the passage of their era, and the language is part of that reflection. Many other reviewers have complained that they "don't get the language"-- well, I can read Arabic as well, and I have stabbed at the original text before, so I can safely tell you that (like anything in the Middle East) language is *everything.* Once you understand that, you can start understanding the people who live there.

This book begins the saga of a family in crisis. It isn't a single event, but a slow evolution brought on by the irrepressible challenge of modernity. Young people want to shake off old traditions...Adults misbehave in secret...And in Cairo, the home becomes a place where secrets are kept hidden from those within while it protects secrets on the outside. It is an allegory of the Egyptian soul in the age of independence. The trilogy metes these secrets out one by one, until the walls that "protect" inside and outside begin to crumble. People must make new lives and develop new self-identities.

This is all the more important whan you consider that Mahfouz is something of a prisoner in his own home--radical Jihadists have threatened his life. He has lived a VERY long time, and seen everything Egypt has gone through, so no one is better qualified to write about his country's experience in the 20th century.

"Doesn't function like a Western novel"? Does the reviewer who wrote that think that all novels need function like Western ones?

The novel is not an indigenous form to Arabic literature, and the first Arabic novel was published in the 1910's or 1920's in Egypt. Yet Middle Eastern writers, with Mahfouz at their head, have taken this foreign form and appropriated it, infusing their own cultural values and linguistic lyricism. How is literature to evolve if everyone must write in the same way?

We owe thanks to the late Jackie Kennedy Onassis for this wonderful translation of "Palace Walk"; she read it in French and enjoyed it so much that she set the wheels in motion to get an English translation onto American bookshelves. Since then many of Mahfouz's novels and novellas have been published by Doubleday. I own most if not all of them, and they are fantastic.

I'd like to add something about the difficulties of translation. Mahfouz's Arabic is too poetic and complex for me to understand, but the fact that the English translation is so lyrical and can stand on its own is testament to the greatness of the original work.

Reading literature from other cultures should open our minds and help us to come closer to global understanding. It's true that I have a far more intense bond with Mahfouz's work than a non-Egyptian or non-Middle Easterner would have, but he is such a consummate genius that he moves me as well, deeply.

In addition, the reviewer's opinion that the characters have not changed strikes me as either misinformed or born of bias. The characters do change, but you have to read the whole Trilogy to see just how much. You also have to understand that change does take time, and in Egypt things usually move pretty slowly, though they are punctuated with political events and social upheavals such as Mahfouz describes.

Read the Cairo Trilogy, and then read it again after a year or so. Read Mahfouz's other books, especially the controversial "Children of the Alley" (a.k.a. "Children of Gebelawi"), and "The Harafish," "Midaq Alley" and the novellas. He is poetry mixed with philosophy and his work should open your eyes to the beauty and pain of the world.

Naguib Mahfouz's wonderful novel Palace Walk was originally published in Arabic in 1956, and not translated to English until 1990. Why the publisher waited so long to make this beautiful and sad novel available to a wider audience is beyond me. At least, better late than never!! In broad outline, this is the story of Al-Sayyid Ahmad, a shopkeeper in Cairo during and after World War I, his wife, Amina, and the lives and courtships of their several children. The novel offers profound insight into a different culture and religion. Al-Sayyid has literally a dual personality -- petty tyrant at home, with his wife and children; bon vivant and man-about-town with his friends. Because of the harsh sexual segregation in his traditional Arab home, his wife is none the wiser, but his older sons learn of first hand then come to emulate their father's lifestyle. Although the subject matter is "small" -- a middle-class family's domestic issues -- this is unquestionably a "big" book, raising issues of religion, class, gender, and integrity. Mahfouz is also a wonderful writer, and conveys his characters with humor, insight, and clarity. Mahfouz won the Nobel Prize for Literature, and it is easy to see why.

In this first volume of the Cairo Trilogy, Mahfouz reconstructs in great detail the everyday life of pre-independence Egypt through the story of one extended family. In many ways it's like an Egyptian version of those 19th century English novels by Eliot and Dickens that are filled with detail, description, a multitude of characters and social types (although I in no way intend some kind of neo/proto-colonial comparison here -- that's just what it reminded me of) I found it a little hard to get into at first, but once I got in I couldn't put it down and read the entire trilogy straight through. This is the kind of book that immerses you in a total world, and the trilogy a series of books that you can live in and live with over the course of a week or two. I also found I learned a lot about Egyptian history and culture and the city of Cairo during this period just by reading these books.

As the world grows smaller, it is a wise thing to learn something of other cultures through mediums other than television. Few of us have the time or the desire to undertake in-depth studies of how others live, think, worship, etc.; but through beautifully written books such as Palace Walk we can look into the day to day lives of ordinary middle class people, see how individuals function within the framework of their culture, and gain some insight into - and perhaps some respect for - what motivates them to behave in ways that often seem illogical if not repugnant to modern Westerners.

Every character is unique and wonderful - from the tyrannical and hypocritical father to the pure and idealistic middle son. We learn about them more through their thought processes and reasoning than through their outward behaviors. The dialog is like music...lyrical and flowery, heavily infused with mini-prayers, curses, and blessings.

It is an easy and entertaining read, particularly after the first few chapters where everyone is being introduced to the reader. Very early on I was able to get in sync with the writer's rhythm and began to to feel strong emotions about each character. The chapters are short, and the story is easy to follow.

I have had a copy of Palace Walk in my book pile for about 10 years, but finally got around to reading it. What a fool I was to have waited so long to enjoy such a perfectly written work of literary art! I suppose I was intimidated by the fact that it was about modern Egypt, but Mahfouz is such a good writer that his reader is brought into this world and; aside from a few confusing allusions here and there, the book is accessible to the Western reader as well as to a Middle Eastern reader. The characters are universal and at the same time, purely Egyptian.

This is a story of a family whose lives and fortunes mirror those of the country they live in. Egypt, in the years following World War I, is in turmoil, undergoing historical transition, moving painfully toward independence.

In the home of the Jawad family, the father, Ahmad Abd al-Jawad, a merchant, rules with stern, unrelenting dominance, while enjoying a secret, separate life of complete, selfish, sensual enjoyment. His obedient wife, Amina, on the other hand, serves him and her family as a whole in every capacity, unquestioningly, selflessly. His children, three sons and two daughters, fear and love their father and worship their mother. They live the life of a upper middle class Egyptian family.

But they, like their country, teeter on the brink of change. The black and white, unquestioning religious and social faith of the past is being replaced by a new world, one in which all the rules of the past are being called into question. This new world, with its turmoil, will exact a tragic price from this family.

Time passes, change occurs. Each member of the family reacts in his/her own way, reflecting the change in the country they live in.

The characters are each interesting, completely human, the story a tale well told. I am now 2/3 of the way through the second book in the trilogy, Palace of Desire, and my interest in the story and its characters has not flagged. I have no doubt that I will continue on the finish the trilogy, for I find this a fascinating read.

I'm just sorry I took so long to get around to it!

Al-Sayyid Ahmad bestrides his family like the Colossus of Rhodes: in complete domination of the scene and brooking no opposition. His wife Amina serves him meekly, offering no opinions, and never leaving the house for twenty five years. He has five children---three boys and two girls---who look upon him as a tyrant, but one whom they must love and respect. Al-Sayyid Ahmad himself runs a shop by day but by night carouses with a group of friends, indulging in wine, women, and song. He comes home in the wee hours---his wife is always there to help him undress and fall into bed. Mahfouz, over nearly 500 pages, describes how changes occurred in the secure, comfortable life of all these individuals in 1917-19. The eldest son is married off and then divorces because of his uncontrollable appetites. The two girls marry and leave home. The middle son gets involved in revolutionary politics against the British occupation of Egypt, while the youngest, just a kid, becomes a favorite of the British troops stationed in the street outside the family home. One by one, each family member defies the given order, presenting 'the master' with a quandry---how to handle the situation and maintain his self-respect and authority. Due to tragedy and family complications, Al-Sayyid Ahmad himself is forced to confront his behavior, to question his lecherous self-indulgence at home and away.

PALACE WALK is a masterpiece, an intimate portrait of an Egyptian family of the particular period, not a fast-paced novel with a great sweep of events. Still, the psychological depth of all the characters makes it one of the great novels of the 20th century, the one which fills in an otherwise-missing gap in our knowledge of humanity. [At least I have never found any comparable novels about Arab family life.] Mahfouz describes life about 90 years ago in Cairo for a middle class family, provides examples of how people thought and behaved at that time, and even (though it must be watered down in translation) shows how they spoke, their conversation shot through with sayings from the Holy Qur'an and proverbs. On another level, PALACE WALK can be seen as a criticism of certain failings in Egyptian society, for example, the failure to allow women any place outside the home, the tradition which allowed a man to do anything he liked, while a woman just had to bear whatever he dished out. Mahfouz also contrasts the burning patriotism and sacrifices of the young with the lip-service to liberty paid by their elders. He never speaks directly about issues, however, letting the readers come to whatever conclusions they can. Some may say that PALACE WALK is a "slice of life" novel, but it is much more than that. Just as in every part of the world, Egypt has changed a lot in nearly a century. Even so, reading this novel may erase a lot of the simplistic nonsense about Islam and Arab culture that fills the media today. The motivations of Egyptians are every bit as complicated as those of others. If you read the book, you may understand why religious fanatics (who want everything uncomplicated) condemned the author and even tried to kill him. If they had succeeded, they would have killed one of the great writers of our age.

"Palace Walk", the first instalment of Nobel Prize winner, Naguib Mahfouz's "Cairo Trilogy", has the hallmarks of an instant classic. It is timeless because while written in straightforward narrative and essentially a family drama, its reach is ambitious and universal. Individual relationships between members of a Muslim family reveal as much about the strange workings of the human heart as they do about the nature of Egyptian society during the early part of the 1900s. The western reader may find some of it culturally alien and difficult to understand, but Asians should be familiar and quite easily identify with the characteristics of conservative patriachal societies. The seemingly two-faced tendency of the novel's patriach (he's the admired successful businessman on the outside but the family tyrant at home) isn't really tantamount to hyprocrisy, though it's tempting to label him a hypocrite for exhibiting double standards. His subservient wife, Amina, may be a doormat by our reckoning but she has the emotional ballast to keep the family afloat through the most trying of times. And so on. This sweeping family saga addresses the issues of male supremacy, female subservience, double standards, courage, conviction, change and renewal. It is about a society undergoing a quiet revolution. The imperialist forces that threaten to break down the fabric of feudal Egyptian society also release pent up feelings of rage and dissent as evidenced by the growing revolt among the young against the ruling order. Consider Fahmy's new found courage, patriotism and sacrifice, Yasim's wife's outrage against her husband's debauchery, the open display of Maryam's love for the soldier, etc. Even the patriach undergoes a makeover of sorts at the end. The novel opens on a quietly intimate note, then reaches an early climax when Amina is thrown out of her home for daring to venture out of her cloisters. Contrast this with the winds of change sweeping across the social landscape with each passing decade. Two minor complaints. The novel ends too abruptly, thus anticipating a sequel. Those unfamiliar with the historical background may find some of it puzzling (eg, the constant reference to the obviously unwelcome encroachment of Australian soldiers). Mahfouz is a classic writer in the old fashioned sense of the word. Beautiful prose and strictly no gimmicks. "Palace Walk" may be alot to get through but the pickings are rich. It's a masterpiece and will survive the ages.