Showing posts with label Morocco. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morocco. Show all posts

Friday, April 30, 2010

Secret Son by Laila Lalami

  • Paperback: 304 pages
  • Publisher: Viking; Export Edition edition (4 Feb 2010)

I will be the first to admit that Laila Lalami's "Secret Son" had me yawning when I first opened it.  At chapter two I was wondering if I had made a mistake buying the book.  No, it wasn't slow-paced, quite the contrary infact, but coming to it after a novel like "Possessed" (my previous post) , the writing seemed so pedestrian and lifeless with tired metaphors (perhaps this is because French speaking Lalami writes in English?). Thankfully, by the time I was at chapter four things had started looking up and I found myself being drawn into the story.  I'm really glad I persisted because the book, although not a great literary triumph or anything, does bring its own rewards.


The title gives the plot away.  The story follows Youssef El Mekki,  a boy born out of wedlock to a servant girl and an already-married, very wealthy man (Nabil Amrani).  Being married Nabil was unable to give the woman and their son a home.  So Youssef grows up as the son of a single mother,  in Hay An Najat, a slum in Casablanca, often described as "melting pot of misery and poverty", while his "other" family, only a few miles away, live lives of the rich and famous. Had Youssef grown up in the US he may not has cursed his fate so much, but to be the bastard child of a single mother in Morocco carries with it a strong social stigma, something that is very hard to shrug off.

As a premise, the notion of there being a "secret son" is always exciting, but I think this particular novel failed to really capitalize on that - for a truly exciting and endearing story on a secret son try Tim Brannigan's "Where are you  Really From?".  However, as I continued to read I realized that the plot is little more than a hook from which to suspend a  relevant social and political commentary of  the Morocco of the new millennium and despite my reservations on the plot, narrative etc, I found myself drawn to the country, its people and their lives.

Morocco has a rigid hierarchy based on class, wealth, power and jobs, but especially class.  This division of society is very apparent in the cliques at Youssef's university.   There are the rich kids (the “Mercedes-and-Marlboro group”) as they are called; the religious kind (“headscarf -and-beard faction”); the egalitarians or ( “Marx-and-Lenin group”), and the "Berber Student Alliance and the Saharawis", students from distinct ethnic minorities within the country.

The novel also explores how Islamic fundamentalism has come to visit Morocco and how marginalized youth in the poorer areas of  the country are sitting ducks for fundamentalist recruiters.  A boy like Youssef who is not only poor but has major identity issues as well, would be just the kind of person these fundamentalists are fond of targeting.

All in all  "Secret Son" is a pitch-perfect rendering of  contemporary Moroccan life in all its chaos, energy, humor and terror.   As you read you will start to put the touristy, picture postcard images of Casablanca aside and come to the sad realization that it has problems with corruption, a mistrust of government/police, poverty, overcrowding, unequal distribution of wealth and fundamentalism, just to name a few.

Although I didn't like "Secret Son" as much as I enjoyed her previous novel "Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits", I will say that this novel has a great sense of place and just for that I will give it three stars out of five.

 



Saturday, March 01, 2008

In Arabian Nights: A Caravan of Moroccan Dreams by Tahir Shah

Category: Travel - Africa; Travel - Middle East; Travel - Adventure

Format: Hardcover, 400 pages

Publisher: Bantam

Pub Date: December 26, 2007

Price: $30.00




The book's alluring cover and beguiling title made it impossible not to pick up and for the most part I am glad I did.

Tahir Shah, son of Sufi poetry scholar and translator, Idries Shah, moved his young family from England for the sunshine and warmth of his childhood home, Morocco. "The Caliph's House" was Shah's first book written from his new home in Casablanca, Morocco and "In Arabian Nights" is the sequel.

"In Arabian Nights" continues the saga of the house called "Dar Khalifa", its guardians (servants) and its motley crew of visitors but it also involves Shah's search for the legendary story tellers of Morocco (
the Moroccans have a wonderful tradition of oral storytelling)and more importantly, his pursue of a time-honored Berber quest: to find the story in his heart. The quest for his heart's story takes him from the teeming streets of Tangier in the north, through the the ancient labyrinthine lanes and bazaars of Marrakech and Fez, to the solitary sands of the Sahara in the south.

The entrance to the 14th-century Bou Inania school and mosque, which like much of Fez is a place of legend and mystery.

The book is filled with an entourage of colorful characters ( including an exorcist, a blind-story teller and a Tuarag tribesman from the Sahara desert) and is packed to the brim with wondrous Arab tales and filled with the sights and sounds of Morocco which made me wish I could
summon my magic carpet and have it carry me away to this place.

Although "In Arabian Nights" is the successor to "The Caliph's House" it is very different in tone. I enjoyed seeing that there exists a corner of the world where the tradition of oral story telling is more popular than books. Also, Shah helps you realize that a story is so much more than entertainment. Here in the west we read because we want to be entertained and we want to be informed. There is no dearth of the printed word and as a result we are constantly speed reading through a book in order to get to the next one. In places where stories are passed on orally, people listen to the same story over and over and will move on to the next only after the story with its symbols and meanings is truly understood by the listener. Do we ever really "understand" the stories we read or do we just carry away a superficial message and then move on to the next book? In other words, are we being short-changed when we do not re-read a novel? Also, there is that question of committing stories to memory. Are there merits in doing that? These are just some of the questions Shah poses through the book making it a very thoughtful read.