Palace Walk, the
first part of The Cairo Trilogy, begins in 1917 during the First World War,
ending in 1919 with the outbreak of the nationalist revolution. The second part
– Palace of Desire, begins its story
five years later in 1924, witness to the British negotiation with Sa’d Zaghlul
of the Wafd Party. The novel ends with the leader’s death in 1927.
Palace of Desire presents
a marked shift in time, attitudes and family dynamics. The novel opens with patriarch
Ahmad abd al-Jawad ‘extracting from his caftan the gold watch.’ This immediate
reference to time signals a change in pace in the discourse that Mahfouz adopts
to represent the breakdown of the Jawad family structure. The shift of the
coffee hour from the first floor to the ground floor, following the death of
one of the Jawad sons – Fahmy, and the marriage of the two daughters,
highlights a massive blow to the mother’s position in this important social
event. We come to the point when Amina, the matriarch of the Jawad family and
youngest son Kamal, are the only remaining patrons of the coffee hour.
This change in dynamics is highlighted by the paradoxical
nature of the two families that construct this narrative: the Jawads and the
Shaddads. The Shaddad mansion in Palace of Desire is firmly lodged in the new
state, a reflection of Egypt at this point, in its bid to emphasise its link
with European culture and a Western style of living. The counter-space of the
Shaddad mansion serves as a further blow to the pre-existing harmony of the
Jawad house, which unfolds with the progression of the narrative, to become a
desolate and lonely space, once a place of vibrancy and family occasions.
The members of the Shaddad family present a far more Western
mindset and lifestyle, reflected in their vales, opinions, and even down to
their choice of food and drink – highly apparent in the picnic scene at the
Pyramids. Where Kamal Jawad epitomises the traditional Egyptian, Husayn and
Aida Shaddad represent modernity in the behaviours they bring to the table, so
to speak. Husayn says:
‘Religion huh? A glass of beer doesn’t make you drunk, and ham is delicious and good for you.’
A devout Muslim, and upholder of Islamic traditions, Kamal is
alien to the lifestyle and values of his Westernised friends, and their
enjoyment of these forbidden foods. And yet he accepts their differences
graciously, falling in love with Aida’s exoticism and international persona.
Not only are Kamal’s emotions controlled by Aida, but his love for her begins
to dictate his entire being, setting his character’s personal timeframe by the
clock that controls his emotional state: ‘That happened before love, or B.L,
and this took place after love A.L (p.686).’ Aida is glorified in such a manner,
that she sets the pace of Kamal’s existence and growth as a man within the
overall narrative. The elusive nature of Aida’s character is heightened by her
familiarity with Western culture, marking the beginning of Kamal’s shift from
Egyptian traditions and his exploration of his manhood:
‘Aida said something unintelligible in French...Using foreign words was a common practice for her, one that softened his extreme identification with the national tongue.’
This alteration in perception sees Kamal begin to indulge in
the darker social scene, to which the other male members of his family have
become notorieties: alcohol and women. Their indulgence in such social
pleasures indicates a running trait in the Jawad men. Yasin Jawad, eldest son
in the Jawad family, is just like his father; ‘he had two personalities. One
was reserved for friends and lovers, the other presented to his family and the
world.’
We see the transparency of the belief systems which so many
claim to practice, to profess and to preach, yet they themselves transgress to
the depravities of alcohol, brothels and prostitutes. This is mirrored in the
political undercurrent of the novel, the transparency of words, the value of
language, and how its power can be used both for the good and equally to the
detriment of the Egyptian people:
‘Patriotism
is nothing for Sa’d (Zaghlul) but a rhetorical device to seduce the masses.’
The propagandising of events, of words is a never ending
theme in the discourse of the world to this day; the current political
situation in Egypt is just one example of this. The appointment of Mohamed
Morsi as president has divided the Egyptian people 50:50, with Morsi winning
51.7% of the votes, leaving the remaining 48.3% to be held by Ahmed Shafiq of
the old Mubarak regime. Morsi has yet to appoint a parliament; the Egyptian
people are held in an anxious state of anticipation and extreme hope for change
and betterment for their country.
‘Nations survive and advance with brains and wise policies, and manpower – not through speeches and cheap populist agitations...I’m convinced that politics corrupts the mind and heart (Husayn Shaddad, p.699).’
The power of the masses – this is the reason Egypt has been
so successful in its recent revolutionary activity. As separate entities we are
merely a minor microcosm within the larger macrocosm of existence:
‘Where was Palace Walk and
Kamal’s ancient home in all of that? Where was his mother, who would be putting
out water for the chickens now, near the jasmine arbour.’
We are reminded of the trivialities of life and the impact
of our individual existence as human beings; Fahmy Jawad reached an untimely
death in the first novel as a political activist caught up in the revolutionary
onslaught. His presence is soon forgotten as the daily rituals of life continue
without him. This is exemplified by the outbreak of typhoid, the looming discourse
of death and the control the characters cease to have over their mortality. We
witness the rapid spread of the typhoid fever, killing so many in its wake,
including the majority of Aisha’s family. Aisha is the Jawad daughter known for
her grace, beauty and elegance. These qualities begin to fade as she becomes
overcome by angst, grief and tragedy, as we watch her family slowly deteriorate
in health and succumb to death, until ‘there is nothing left of Khalil but a
shadow, and the children are the same.’
Tragedy brings to a close the second part of this powerful
trilogy, as we are reminded of the value of human life versus the power of the
cause at large – ‘The English or typhoid, it’s all the same...like any other
cause.’ This is juxtaposed by the creation of life taking part
simultaneously within the narrative, as Yasin’s wife, Zanuba endures childbirth
during this frantic period of life, death, hope and sadness.
Palace of Desire represents
the end of an era: ‘Sa’d Zaghlul has died.’ Only time will tell how
these families regenerate and progress, how they deal with their loss and
embrace their futures.
