Interview with Borges Translator Suzanne Jill Levine

3 Quarks Daily has the transcript of an interview with Suzanne Jill Levine about Jorge Luis Borges. It is a lengthy interview and worth a look. It goes beyond his stories and talks about his non fiction works, something that he is not necessarily well known for in the US. You can also listen to the interview here.

In the nonfiction in these collections, are these a different Borges than you see in the fictions, or is it all of a piece, to your mind?

Both are true. In some ways, in order to understand, truly, his fictions, you have to look at his nonfiction work as well as his poetry to see where this language is coming from, where these ideas are coming from. What we wanted to do was bring forth to the reader not only the Borges they already know, but also expand their concept of who Borges is. For example, On Argentina is an aspect completely missing from the Selected Nonfictions, which is a wonderful volume. It’s just that that volume wanted to capture, let’s say, a more universal, international, and maybe more Anglo-oriented Borges.

But On Argentina shows you how Argentine Borges was. This really is a revelation. You understand how committed he was, politically, socially, culturally, to his particular country. That’s a part that many people aren’t aware of. It gives them insights they wouldn’t otherwise have about his fictions.

It is kind of, I don’t know if “fraught relationship” is the right term, he has with Argentina. It’s one that develops. You can flip through this book and see change: he’s come more to terms with Argentina. What was the process of his point of view on his country? He didn’t seem to like it very much early on, and at the end he’s still saying, “Here are the things we can’t do in Argentina,” but he’s matured.

It’s a very complex relationship. For me to sum up the history of Argentina and Borges’ ideas on it would be very ambitious, and probably wouldn’t work as well as the reader just picking up this lovely volume and reading the brilliant introduction by Alfred MacAdam, which does tell the story very well, as well as the essays themselves. He loved this culture, but was very pained by limitations, by a sense of a a lack of civic-mindedness, of a lack of, let’s say, political development. In other words, he saw it as a culture that was very rich, but, unfortunately, a country that was in the hands of, as he said, “gangsters.”

Naturally, at the time he was writing, regionalism was a very big movement. It really was a continuation of good old-fashioned European naturalism and realism. He wanted Argentina to find its own voice. He didn’t want writers to feel they had to write about certain subjects in a certain way. The fact of being Argentine was, whatever they wrote, it would be Argentine. This concept of identity was shocking, refreshing, and makes total sense.

Lit Podcasts for 7/29/10: Hans Fallada, Suzzane Jill Levine, Sefi Atta

New Edition of Classic /Beer in the Snooker Club

Arabic Literature (In English) reports that a new edition of Beer in the Snooker Club is coming out in December. What little I know about it sounds interesting.

I was surprised to see Waguih Ghali’s Beer in the Snooker Club on Kotob Khan’s June bestseller list. After all, the book was originally published in 1964, and I hadn’t heard anything about Ghali in the news that might cause a run on this classic book.

Other books on the bestseller list are more easily explicable: Bilal Fadl’s hot A Chagrined Laugh, the Arabic Booker-winning Azazeel as well as the Response to Azazeel. Alaa el-Aswany’s latest nonfiction.

But Karam Youssef, owner of Kotob Khan, explained that her staff often suggests classics, such as Beer in the Snooker Club, to book-browsers. Beer in the Snooker Club, she said, is a perennial seller.

Get Ready to Reread Kafka: Lost Kafka Documents to Reemerge

Before the lost documents of Kafka are released and absorbed (see the Independent‘s article), I want to take a minute and think about what that actually means, or more accurately, have my Borgesian moment of rereading and recreating the texts and the man, before I have actually come across the work. Does just the existence, even if I never see these papers, make his works different? Whereas Borges posited other works or played with the existence on a book through time (Pierre Menard, for example) , for myself, I only have the idea of the work. In a gluttonously optimistic way I find myself hoping these papers with reflect on his other works. No, I don’t think they will be the let down that the recent Raymond Carver stories were, but an insistence of his brilliance. My insistence, though, is the rereading that will now color all his works for me, even if the papers turn out to be uninteresting. The excitement is doing the rereading for me. Now when I turn to his works I will always have the idea that there is something else just off page, even though I am very text centric. The desire for more is always a problem, because who Kafka is and who he will be will change, but having more of his work may not matter. Completion is rewarding to a scholar, but not always a reader.

Juan Jose Saer, Mercè Rodored, Mathias Enard’s Zone Winter 2010 from Open Letter

Open Letter Press has released its fall catalog and it has some pretty exciting items in it. Of particular interest to me are Mercè Rodored’s short stories. I read her Death in Spring last summer and thought it was great. I don’t know much about Juan Jose Saer, but the description sounds interesting. And Mathias Enard’s Zone is one of those stylistic works that is too tempting not to read.You can down load the catalog which contains samples and bios from Open Letter.

The Selected Stories of Merce Rodoreda. Translated from the Catalan by Martha Tennent. (Catalonia) Collected here are thirty-one of Mercè Rodoreda’s most moving and challenging stories, presented in chronological order of their publication from three of Rodoreda’s most beloved short story collections: Twenty-Two Stories, It Seemed Like Silk and Other Stories, and My Christina and Other Stories. These stories capture Rodoreda’s full range of expression, from quiet literary realism to fragmentary impressionism to dark symbolism. Few writers have captured so clearly, or explored so deeply, the lives of women who are stuck somewhere between senseless modernity and suffocating tradition—Rodoreda’s “women are notable for their almost pathological lack of volition, but also for their acute sensitivity, a nearly painful awareness of beauty” (Natasha Wimmer).

The Sixty-Five Years of Washington by Juan Jose Saer. Translated from the Spanish by Steve Dolph (Argentina)

It’s October 1960, say, or 1961, in a seaside Argentinian city named Santa Fe, and The Mathematician—wealthy, elegant, educated, dressed from head to toe in white—is just back from a grand tour of Europe. He’s on his way to drop off a press release about the trip to the papers when he runs into Ángel Leto, a relative newcomer to Rosario who does some accounting, but who this morning has decided to wander the town rather than go to work.

One day soon, The Mathematician will disappear into exile after his wife’s assassination, and Leto will vanish into the guerrilla underground, clutching his suicide pill like a talisman. But for now, they settle into a long conversation about the events of Washington Noriega’s sixty-fifth birthday—a party neither of them attended.

Saer’s The Sixty-Five Years of Washington is simultaneously a brilliant comedy about memory, narrative, time, and death and a moving narrative about the lost generations of an Argentina that was perpetually on the verge of collapse.

Zone by Mathias Enard. Translated from the French by Charlotte Mandell. (France)

Francis Servain Mirkovic, a French-born Croat who has been working for the French Intelligence Services for fifteen years, is traveling by train from Milan to Rome. He’s carrying a briefcase whose contents he’s selling to a representative from the Vatican; the briefcase contains a wealth of information about the violent history of the Zone—the lands of the Mediterranean basin, Spain, Algeria, Lebanon, Italy, that have become Mirkovic’s specialty.

Over the course of a single night, Mirkovic visits the sites of these tragedies in his memory and recalls the damage that his own participation in that violence—as a soldier fighting for Croatia during the Balkan Wars—has wreaked in his own life. Mirkovic hopes that this night will be his last in the Zone, that this journey will expiate his sins, and that he can disappear with Sashka, the only woman he hasn’t abandoned, forever . . .

One of the truly original books of the decade—and written as a single, hypnotic, propulsive, physically irresistible sentence—Mathias Énard’s Zone provides an extraordinary and panoramic view of the turmoil that has long deviled the shores of the Mediterranean.

Comics and Graphic Novels Emerge in the Middle East

Publishing perspectives has an article called Undiscovered Art: Comics and Graphic Novels Emerge in the Middle East. It is interesting overview of graphic novels in the middle east, few of which make it into English.

While comics have long been popular among children in the Arab world (two of the biggest series are the venerable “Mickey Mouse” and the Egyptian-based “Aladdin” comics), there is a new spark of interest in adult comics in the region. “In the last two years, there’s been a kind of synchronicity in Egypt, Lebanon, and Emirates for graphic novels,” says artist and writer Magdy El Shafee. In March, for example, the young Emirati author, Qais Sedki, won the prestigious Shaykh Zayed Book Award for his graphic novel Siwar al-Dhahab (Gold Ring), the first Arabic-language manga comic.

Samandal Inspires Others

Also participating in the Cairo workshop was one of the leaders of Lebanon’s growing field of comics authors, Fadi Baki (who goes by the moniker “the fdz”.) He is one of the publishers of the Beirut-based Samandal, which bills itself as “a multilingual comics magazine” with the aim of “produc[ing] a comic book revolution that will herald a new era of peace and understanding between cultures in the Middle East and the rest of the world.” On a more practical level, Baki and his co-editors see Samandal as “a showcase for comics we find interesting…We hope that this gallery will coalesce into a distinctive identity with serialized stories and returning artists and thus become a conduit between them and a wider public thirsty for comics that speak their realities.”

Baki cheekily describes himself as a product of “a childhood rife with comics, telly, and Nutella,” and like his co-editors, he is a graduate of the American University of Beirut. Samandal publishes comics in Arabic, French and English in each issue: with sections switching between left-to-right and right-to-left scripts, they hit upon the innovation of what they call a “flippy page” — a page instructing the reader to flip the magazine upside-down to continue reading the next section.

Gioconda Belli Wins the Premio La Otra Orilla

MOLESKINE ® LITERARIO notes that Gioconda Belli has won the La Otra Orilla prize. I haven’t read her fiction, but her auto biography about her time with the Sandanistas was interesting, funny and insightful. In person she is quite interesting and I’m curious what her novels are like. It is quite the prize, too.

El éxito que tuvo la poeta y narradora nicaragüense Gioconda Belli en el Festival de la Palabra en Puerto Rico fue, para mí, inédito. Sabía de su prestigio, sabía de sus premios (de hecho, yo la presenté como Premio Seix Barral en la Feria Internacional del Libro hace unos años) pero no sabía que su carisma arrastraba multitudes en Puerto Rico. Ahora que ha ganado el premio La Otra Orilla, de la editorial Norma, me imagino que esas multitudes estarán felices.

Dice la nota:

La poeta y novelista nicaragüense Gioconda Belli fue galardonada hoy con el premio La Otra Orilla -dotado con 100.000 dólares y la publicación de su novela en toda América y España- por su libro “Crónicas de la izquierda erótica”, informaron voceros de la casa local del Grupo editorial Norma. Entre los 615 manuscritos recibidos se encontraba la obra de Belli, la primera mujer elegida para recibir este galardón, cuyo jurado estuvo integrado por los escritores Santiago Roncagliolo (Perú), Mario Mendoza (Colombia) y Pere Sureda (España). El jurado expresó que en la novela “se destaca el humorismo de su sátira política, la notable inventiva de la trama y la destreza de la autora para mantener la tensión narrativa contando una historia desde múltiples puntos de vista sin perder la sencillez”. Y agrega: “En el panorama de la novela política latinoamericana, ampliamente dominado por figuras masculinas, esta novela es una divertida e inesperada provocación”.

Peruvian Author Alfredo Bryce Echenique On His Writing and Drinking

Alfredo Bryce Echenique has published his most recent book, La esposa del rey de las curvas. It is his first book in a few years and he was in Bolivia recently talking about it and his reputation for drinking. Many of his books have been translated into English, so if you are curious you can give him a try. The following is from mexico.americaenews.com and rads as if it was run through Google Translate.

Wednesday, July 7, 6:55 PM La Paz, July 7 (EFE) .- The Peruvian writer Alfredo Bryce Echenique (Lima, 1939) said Thursday that despite his reputation as a life of “debauchery” is a writer “uncluttered” , which has led him to be able to publish over 25 books. At the opening of the VI Meeting of Latin American writers to be held in the Bolivian city of Cochabamba (center), said Bryce Echenique accompanying a reputation as “anti (Mario) Vargas Llosa, for his alleged life “bohemian, casual and untimely.” He said he recently asked “how having led a dissolute life” has been written 25 books, to which he replied that in reality is “uncluttered”. ” I’ll take my house and I will not invite or a drink to see what I ordered, “he joked to his audience. It added that it considered” that has been able to consume the largest amount of alcohol in history of humanity, the drunkest of all Latin American writers. “Peruvian writer explained that never flaunted his order because” it is easier to “live with a bad reputation. In turn, said the key to his success has been “much work, much order, discipline and a lot of silence” as you type. The author of “A World for Julius” (1970) also took the opportunity to talk about the new novel in the works, whose title is “Giving sorrow to sorrow” . Bryce Echenique explained that the name of his new book comes from a conversation he had with that was his carer as a child, “Mama Rosa”, who replied with this phrase to a phone call, more than 40 years. ” It is a very violent novel, even I got scared. (…) It is a novel about the utter decadence, crime and the subnormal family, “he said, while saying that this is a book completely antagonistic “to” A World for Julius. “Peruvian writer added that his visit to Bolivia will be a” great opportunity to catch up “literature of the country, which professed to know” nothing, very little, “if well said however, does know the history of Bolivian social reforms. The meeting of Latin American writers, who has the 2002 Metro Award winner for “The garden of my beloved” headlining, will last until Friday 9 participation will also Peruvian and Argentine Diego Trelles Juan Newfoundland. will be joined by local writers Edward Scott, Jesus Urzagasti, Manuel Vargas and Ramon Rocha Monroy. In previous editions of this meeting, held since 2000, and involved great names of Latin American literature as the Peruvian Vargas Llosa, Antonio Skarmeta Chilean, Argentine Pablo de Santis and Jorge Volpi. Average (Not Rated)

Mexican Author and Twice Hammett Prize Winner Juan Hernandez Luna Dies

I don’t read much crime fiction so I’ll probably not read Juan Hernandez Luna’s work but it sounds like he was a good writer. The Latin American Herald Tribune has the full obit.

Hernandez Luna, born in Mexico City on Aug. 19, 1962, was an “outstanding author of the noir genre,” the INBA communique said, noting that his books have been translated into French and Italian.

He won a number of awards, including the National Book of Short Stories prize in 1988, the Latin American Short Story prize in 1992, the National Science Fiction prize in 1995, and the Dashiell Hammett prize in 1997 and 2007 for the detective novels “Tabaco para el Puma” (Tobacco for the Puma) and “Cadaver de Ciudad” (City Corpse).

His published works include the biographies “Se Llamaba Emiliano” (He Was Called Emiliano) on the life of Mexican revolutionary Emiliano Zapata – written under the pen name Ivan Degollado – and “No Hay Virtud en el Servilismo” (There’s No Virtue in Servility) about the ideologue Ricardo Flores Magon.

Among his best-known novels are “Unico Territorio” (The Only Territory), “Naufragio” (Shipwreck), “Quizas Otros Labios” (Perhaps Other Lips), “Tijuana Dream”, “Yodo” (Iodine) and “Las Mentiras de la Luz” (Lies of the Light).

In Defense of Writers Who Don’t Read So Much; or Here’s to You Tin House

Tin House recently instituted a new policy for accepting submissions that requires writers to submit a copy of a receipt from a local bookstore purchase. While it is a laudable goal and I buy as much as I can from mine (Elliot Bay Books), the problem is when you write you don’t have time to read. It is one of those disappointing facts of authorship that you only have so much time and if you don’t live off your writing, in other words have a day job, what little time that could go into reading, goes into writing. I agree it is inexcusable for writers not to read. Writing is one long continuum of writers influencing each other and I’ve read more than enough bad writing to know a studying a few more authors would do some a world of good. But having to buy a book at the local bookstore just to submit is too much. I can’t buy any more, I’ve just got too many books already and at 20-30 a year (not counting technical tomes) I’m never going to finish. It also feels like a pay to play  or a literary contest with an entrance fee and I don’t like that. It is a fools bet and I prefer to make those bets with the state lottery: the pay off is so much better. Perhaps, when I read the two copies of Tin House that I bought in May and have been sitting on my coffee table ever since, I’ll change my mind. Until then, though, I’m just going to let other hopefuls play this game.

The full text:

PORTLAND, OREGON (JUNE 30, 2010) In the spirit of discovering new talent as well as supporting established authors and the bookstores who support them, Tin House Books will accept unsolicited manuscripts dated between August 1 and November 30, 2010, as long as each submission is accompanied by a receipt for a book from a bookstore. Tin House magazine will require the same for unsolicited submissions sent between September 1 and December 30, 2010.
Writers who cannot afford to buy a book or cannot get to an actual bookstore are encouraged to explain why in haiku or one sentence (100 words or fewer). Tin House Books and Tin House magazine will consider the purchase of e-books as a substitute only if the writer explains: why he or she cannot go to his or her neighborhood bookstore, why he or she prefers digital reads, what device, and why.

Writers are invited to videotape, film, paint, photograph, animate, twitter, or memorialize in any way (that is logical and/or decipherable) the process of stepping into a bookstore and buying a book to send along for our possible amusement and/or use on our Web site.

Tin House Books will not accept electronic submissions. Tin House magazine will accept manuscripts by mail or digitally. The magazine will accept scans of bookstore receipts.

ALL MANUSCRIPTS WITHOUT RECEIPT OR EXPLANATION
WILL BE RETURNED UNREAD IN SASE.

New Group Read at the Conversational Reading This Fall

Scott at Conversational Reading is putting together a new group read for the fall. You can make your voice heard if you hurry. This time it won’t be as long as the Your Face Tomorrow trilogy.

Ramon Eduardo Ruiz, Historian of Mexico Has Died

The great historian of Mexico, Ramon Eduardo Ruiz, has died. It has been some time since I have read his work, especially The Great Rebellion: Mexico 1905-1924 (Revolutions in the Modern World) and Triumphs and Tragedy: A History of the Mexican People. The former is an excellent account of the revolution with all its twists, characters and ultimately what it did and did not overthrow. It was a great grounding for reading authors like Carlos Fuentes, Mariano Azuela, and Martin Guzman.

The LA Times has the full obit.

In 1998, the 77-year-old American son of Mexican immigrants joined historian Arthur Schlesinger Jr., biographer Stephen E. Ambrose, novelist E.L. Doctorow and five other distinguished Americans who were awarded the National Humanities Medal at a White House ceremony.

In the classroom and through his books, Ruiz told the San Diego Union-Tribune before traveling to Washington, he sought to “convey the complexity and excitement of Mexican history. I especially try to convey the great cultural richness of Mexican life and of Mexican literature.”

What to Do With Books That Have No Value: Sell Them By The Pound

I have always had a hard time getting rid of old books, even ones I’m not going to read. It seems one step removed from book burning, which is the devil’s playground. I do fool myself into thinking they will all go to good homes when I give them to the library sale, but I’m sure some don’t find a home. Well now if you want to be kind to books and save them you can buy those ubiquitous 1¢ books you see on Amazon and the like by the pound. All you have to do is go to the warehouse of Once Sold Tales. I know that books aren’t forever, but perhaps a little scarcity might be in order some day.

“Used books are now completely commoditized,” Eric says. “You have to price your books below all competitors, constantly, or they won’t sell.”

But the reason I’m here is that there was a strange twist on the way to the Web revolution. The books somehow got left behind.

It turns out that in the ruthlessly efficient, instantly updateable Web market, countless books are no longer worth selling, because it costs far more to ship them than the market judges they are worth.

“Book prices are so low they’re becoming a disposable product,” Eric says.

Take “The Trumpet of the Swan,” E.B. White’s classic about a voiceless swan who learns to speak by playing a stolen trumpet. What’s it worth, used, on the Web right now?

Only one cent, believe it or not. Plus $3.99 to mail it to you.

via the Seattle Times.

When Writing Groups Go Bad: The Cat Man

I should have known better, but I was somewhere between desperate and lonely, that place writers who want to be read often find themselves and which leaves them susceptible to the power of assertive critics. Sure, giving the story you slavishly worked over for days to someone who is never going to read it often comes to a disappointing nothing, but its just a sin of eagerness. Giving your mailable self over to a self appointed arbiter of taste is another mater.

I met the Cat Man at a local writers group after the night’s speaker had spent 45 minutes explaining the best way to do goal setting. My least favorite thing to hear about in writing groups. The Cat Man was an older fellow with white hair and glasses, and wore a button down collar and white sweater. He came right over to me—I was the only stranger—and introduced himself. He told me within 30 seconds that he hosted a writing group at his home. He had done it for years and had had helped the writing of a local author whose books I had vaguely heard of. What he didn’t do, was write. I should have thought that was a bad sign, but I’m not particularly tied to the notion that everyone in a group needs to participate. Anyway, it had been a couple years since the last group so I was more than eager.

The next week I arrived at his home around 7. It was an old craftsman and was well taken care of. I knocked and he let me in, recognizing me from the week before. As I walked into the house, though, I was overcome by the smell of cat, or to be more precise, litter box. I don’t hate cats, just that smell. I’ve never understood how people can live with that, but I ignored the smell as best I could and entered the dining room where two other writers were waiting. When I took a seat his wife asked if I wanted coffee.  It seemed like a good sign, especially since she looked like a kindly grandmother, and picturing them both together they were quite charming.

After the coffee came, we all traded stories and I read the two pieces of fiction from the other two, while he read all three of ours. Normally, I like to know something about the people I’m trading writing with, so I can know if it is really going to be interesting. With this group I didn’t have any option but to read. It was one of the most painful 20 minutes of reading I’d ever done in my life. Not only was their writing uninteresting, it was so badly written that I think a tenth grader must have written both of the pieces. I’ve read uninteresting things that at least held together, but this stuff was in such desperate need of work.

My mind quickly wandered. I hoped I could make it down to the Trader Joe’s before they closed to buy a case of wine since I’d just gotten a raise and I wanted to celebrate. I couldn’t leave, though. That would have been rude. So I waited until the Cat Man finished marking up our work.

When we finally got to the criticisms and talked about the other writing, he mostly said good improvement. I don’t even want to think about what those writers had written before. It was obvious that he was shepherding along his foundlings and they were slowly becoming what he envisioned. When he came to mine, I knew we would be in conflict. He had begun punctuating my first paragraph and chopping it up into small pieces. Sure the sentences were long. I knew that, but that was part of the deal. He looked at me and said, “these sentences are too German. They don’t work in English.”

Too German? What does that mean? And, really, what’s wrong with a little German flavor now and then? His criticism is the kind that ticks me off, because it doesn’t ask the question, does this work? Rather, it asks, is this in Stunk and White, because that is the limit of my thinking. I wasn’t going to pay much more attention to him, because he obviously wasn’t going to be helpful. What I want in a critic is to know what they see. I know what I want to happen, but is it there? It is the hardest thing for a writer to do. Instead, I found a fellow who subscribes to those tired dictums, such as, always use Anglo Saxon words instead of Latin and French imports, but I like to eat beef instead of cow, and I’d rather live in a mansion than a house.

My mind had already shifted back to the case of wine at Trader Joe’s, when he said, “you shouldn’t be so serious.” Serious? Now he had lost me. Why should I be funny? I’m not a comedian, so I seldom write comedy. It wasn’t as if I was writing about a Dickensian work house, either. On your first encounter with an author, especially his first four pages, you should refrain from suggestions on the weight of material. If you are going to be helping the writer through to the next level, you need to know what the writer is about. There will be plenty of time for readers to say someone is too serious.

Needless to say I left as quickly as I could. It was too late to get my cheep case of wine, but at least I didn’t have to smell that cat box, which I never got used to. When he emailed me the next week to ask I was coming, I politely declined. I wish I had said, “I’m sorry but I’m moving to Germany where they will understand me.”

Miramar by Nagib Mahfouz – A Review

Miramar
Nagib Mahfouz

Nagib Mahfouz’s comparably brief novel, Miramar, captures a moment of great change in the history of Egypt through the lives of the inhabitants of a the pension Miramar. Although politics are ever present in the background, the novel focuses on the way the lives of the inhabitants of the pension have been changed by the Nasarite revolution of the late 50s. Mahfouz, the great story teller he his, uses the personal disappointments brought on by the revolution to draw a picture of a country trying to radically change, yet tied to the past and unable to change many of its ways despite official policies. His subtle focus on the relationships between the characters of the pension, drawing out the conflicts between the shifting class of people, lifts the book above politics and draws a fascinating picture of classes rising and falling.

Miramar is divided into four chapters, each told by a different resident of the pension. Amir Wagdi, the first to narrate, is a retired journalist who provides a historical memory to the story. He had seen the uprising against the British in the twenties and later the revolution. A long time friend of the proprietor of the pension, Mariana, he has returned an old man, content to live in his memories and accept what his life has given him. He has a sage like quality that in conversation with his contemporary the Pasha, a rich man now disposed of most of his lands, he is able to avoid arguments about politics. Much of his chapter has a dream like feel of the lost, and his interactions with the Pasha and Mariana recall the days when he was amongst the action, before their respective lives and the movements they belonged to failed and faded into the past.

When a young peasant girl, Zorha, comes to work at the pension, everything changes for the boarders. For Amir Wagdi, he takes on the role of a grandfather, hoping for her to succeed as she attempts  leave the country side and survive in a world where everyone wants to take her independence. Zorha is a defiant woman who had left the village when her family wanted her to marry someone she didn’t want to marry. Surrounded by men in the pension, she stands up to them and though shy she, she is strong enough to fight back against all the things that befall her. She is one of the few characters in the book that really is looking towards the future and doing it on her own terms. She is illiterate, but hires a teacher to learn to read even though most people tell her it is a waste of time. She is also one of the few, perhaps the only, who is good hearted. One read could see Zorha as the future of the new Egypt, but Mahfouz is too clear eyed for that simplicity, because all the young who live in the pension either want the old society, or are just looking for ways to exploit the new corruption that has replaced the old corruption. Nor is the country side a bastion of wisdom. If it were, Zorha wouldn’t have needed to leave the country side. Instead, Mahfouz celebrates an individuality that is strong and not tempted by the faults of society.

The other men, Husni Allam, a rich playboy, Mansour Bahi, an indecisive radio host, and Sarhan al-Behairi, a low ranking party man whose is looking to make money on the black market, have only one interest: what they can get for themselves. They are consumed by lust, which varies in cruelty, but is all consuming and is an attempt themselves in a position of power, using women without care. The hustling nature puts them in conflict with each other, especially as they fight for Zorha’s affections. Ultimately, the mix of hustling, sexual tension and the close confinement leads to the murder of Sarhan al-Behairi, who is found on a street one morning. As each of the three men narrate their section, the events that lead up to al-Behairi’s death become clearer. It is obvious that none of these men are particularly praiseworthy. Yet even in a character such as Husni Allam, Mahfouz creates evocative characters that also express the frustrations of men who, in many ways, don’t have many options. On the one hand, the rich are loosing their lands, and on the other those are part of the new regime can’t get ahead either. The frustrations add complexity to what might have otherwise been a simple tale of lust and envey.

Ultimately, it is not important if al-Behairi’s murderer is found, what is important is Mahfouz’s picture of post revolution Egypt. The conflicting interests and impulses he presents avoids the pessimistic, yet there is an air of fatalism in the characters who cannot get beyond their pasts. Only Zorha offers hope, but it is unclear what that it is. It is not for Mahfouz to describe the future. Still, one hopes Zorha will survive, for it suggests there is a future worth having.