This is a tour de force, a universe, an adventure, a story of a nation, an epic, a journey and a deeply beautiful story. I feel blessed to have encountered it. Naguib Mahfouz's talent lies in making every one of his main characters multi faceted and deeply human. None of them can be seen as black or white. Each one of them is magnificently rounded and dynamic. Reading The Cairo Trilogy is reading life.

Many thanks to Reem (@ReemK10, @Paper Pills) and #BookTwitter for choosing The Cairo Trilogy (#Mahfouz22) this year. It started on 1 March 2022 and while others finished months earlier I had several distractions (work, life) but I kept reading it even as I read other books. It provided such stability to this year.

I'm actually quite sad that I've finished reading this book. It's a bit like leaving one's favourite people and place and moving on. Except, I don't want to. I would love to reread it in a few years.

My dad really loved this book, but I'm kind of lukewarm on it, which makes me sad. I really have a strong distaste for parts of the current arabic culture, which alternately villifies and sanctifies women, with nothing in between. Yes, this book does kind of deal with that, but I found that the very way the author writes was equally sexist. The women in this book were almost always cartoonish, described by their attractiveness, or their virtue, or perhaps their lack thereof, with little effort made to get into what actually made them tick. And then we follow every single one of the family's males through one whorehouse after another, and get their whole psychology. I finished it. I'm glad I read it, but it's really long and I can't say that I got a ton out of it, besides this:

If your father was all screwed up with his views on women, his place in the world, and religion...well, good luck with that. You'll need it.

Wow. Over the half of a year that I've read these three books this family has become part of me, through their humanity and their flaws.

Volume 1: Palace Walk
n  

She told him frankly that he was excessively conservative in his treatment of his family. It was abnormal.

n
When I started reading this I was immediately reminded of nineteenth century classics such as Middlemarch or Trollope's Palliser Novels, a story where 'the marriage plot' is supreme and where an extended family's dramas play out against a background of political change. But reading the introduction after I'd finished, I see that Mahfouz himself cites The Forsyte Saga as one of his influences (a series I haven't yet read but I have seen the TV miniseries) and that's illuminating since those books chart the final throes of a late Victorian middle-class patriarch and his family's move into modernity. It's an apposite model for this book, only here the story is doubly fascinating for the insight into an Egyptian family in Cairo in the last years of both WW1 and the British Protectorate.

I see from the reviews that many people loathe the father, Ahmad Abd al-Jawad, for his tyranny over his family as well as for what has been read as hypocrisy in keeping his wife and daughters constrained within the house while he goes out at night drinking with his mistresses (of which there are quite a few across the book) - but he's actually a far more complex character than this. I don't want to give spoilers but the deep and rounded nature of Ahmad's personality is one of the highlights of the book.

Surrounding him are his young family: three sons, two daughters, three of whom get married in the book and so bring spouses to the extended family. Inter-generational politics are frequently fraught as the generations, as is their wont, fail to understand each other, tensions made more sharp by the fact of living in the same household. The seriousness is often tempered by humour especially from charming young Kamal, the baby of the family. It's especially fascinating to see life through the eyes of the female characters: they no more want or expect to go outside, have an education, or do anything other than marry and have children than Jane Austen's heroines dream of becoming doctors or lawyers. All the same, there are small moments of subversion such as when a husband takes his wife out to a scandalous night show, or when a woman asks for her own divorce. Patriarchal power may not be collapsing but it's certainly being snipped away at.

But alongside this story of a family, is a more figurative portrait: the sometimes brutal behaviour of the head of the family can be read as a comment on British colonialism which has its own patriarchal edge. The attempts by the sons to assert their independence away from their father's conservative values, work as a stand in for Egypt and the country's search for its own national identity. This doubled reading comes to the fore especially in the final third when, after the 1918 armistice, agitation for Egyptian independence becomes acute, and the revolution in the streets is matched by a number of crises in the family.

It's worth noting that this first volume ends in an arbitrary, way as we move forward into volume 2.

Volume 2: Palace of Desire
Opening some years after Palace Walk, this second book charts the loosening of patriarchal control in the central family, even as Egypt has nominally been given independence though the British are still in control behind the scenes.

The focus is mainly on the men of the family: Khadija and Aisha are both married with children and play only small roles though it's striking that Khadija seems to have inherited her father's will to control in her household (there are some lovely comic scenes around her clashes with her mother-in-law!).

Desire is central and works as a chaotic force as Ahmad returns to his socialising, Yasin manages to get through a couple more marriages, and Kamal, now 17, falls in love. The latter strand is particularly reminiscent of Proust, bringing together issues of love, memory and writing.

The waning powers of Ahmad become ever more poignant as he ages: his grandchildren feel none of the respect and fear his own children had, Kamal asserts his own will over choice of study and career, and Ahmad is increasingly overshadowed by Yasin whose potency grows as that of his father retreats.

There's less of overt Egyptian politics than in the first book, but I feel that this strand will emerge more strongly in the final part of the trilogy.

Volume 3: Sugar Street
n  

Over the course of time, the old house assumed a new look of decay and decline. Its routine disintegrated, and most of the coffee-hour crowd was dispersed. These two features had been the household's soul and lifeblood.

n
Oh, this is melancholy! Flipping forward again to the 1930s and into the war years, the family who we got to know so well in Palace Walk is fading: Ahmad's shop is closed, too many people are dead, and what once looked so strong is collapsing surely and inevitably.

This feels like the most overtly political of the trilogy: old ideas of Egyptian independence are overswept by new adherences to the radical Islam of the Muslim Brethren and its opposite, communism. It's perhaps a little patterned that Khadija's two sons should represent these two positions, but their fate brings these two brothers back together.

Change is everywhere and is especially calibrated through the shifting position of women and marriage: in the first book, women were essentially housebound, and there's a shocking reminder of their subordinate status when we're told that Khadija, through lack of use, has forgotten how to read and write. Women of the younger generation are now studying in universities alongside men, a key character even working at a radical newspaper. And marriages that were once arranged or forbidden by parents, are now, sometimes, agreed by the participants, even, in once case, takes place secretly without even parental knowledge.

But traditions are not abandoned without loss, and that is especially made clear when parents die. This text, more than the other two, feels regularly punctuated by weddings and funerals.

Once again, there is an open ending which is a little frustrating - I can see that Mahfouz takes a modern perspective on not tying up ends in any neat fashion but after 1300 pages I really wanted to know what happens next to these characters with whom I've lived through three books.

The scope of the trilogy is broad taking us through the sweep of Egyptian history from 1917 to around 1943, but it's done through the intimacy of a central family and its complicated, intertwined branches. Throughout the trilogy, the sense of urban, middle-class Cairo is strong: and the movement into modernity is traced through the houses which form the three titles: Palace Walk belonging to the patriarchal father; Palace of Desire, the home of the eldest son, Yasin; and now Sugar Street belonging to the daughter Khadija and home to her two sons, important proponents of Egypt's options of progress.

Multilayered, intimate as well as expansive, this holds Egyptian culture and history up to critique and finds it both wanting and enveloping at once.

149 readers signed up to read #TheCairoTrilogy for #Mahfouz22. We were always engaged with the characters in this trilogy. It really is quite an amazing feat that Naguib Mahfouz was able to hold our interest as we eagerly turned the pages of this 1313-page doorstopper!

من أحب الأعمال لقلبي

“Be firm, my soul. I promise we'll return to all this later. We'll suffer together until we perish. We'll think through everything until we go insane. It will be a satisfying moment in the still of the night, with no eye to observe or ear to eavesdrop, when pain, delirium, and tears are unveiled… far from any critic or scold. Then there's the old well. I'll remove the cover, scream down it to the resident demons, and confide my woes to the tears collected in the belly of the earth there from sad people everywhere. Don't capitulate. Beware, for the world seems as fiery red to you now as the pit of hell.”


From smashing rage to the calm of the sea just before the storm or a constant lull of the moving waves, my insides went through varied of emotions while reading this book. In spite of my angry outburst at the end of Palace Walk and a feeling of deep satisfaction as I finished Palace of Desire, I am finding it hard to pin my feelings to just about one set of emotions as i finished reading this mammoth of Egyptian epic. Time and again I felt a deep desire of talking this book out with the writer himself. As he allows us to walk through the time and space of this book creating allegorical Egypt through the depiction of a family saga spanning to three generations, we see Mahfouz emerging not only as a giant story-teller but also as a philosopher who has a close eye on the intricacies and eccentricities of life, and a bystander who is closely observing completely opposing revolutions of thought emerging in an Egypt who is trying to break its shackles from the conservatism. Exploring the theme of social, political and human changes that occur in the Egyptian society over a period of 27 years Mahfouz created an open case of conflict between the new and the old, the conventional and the modern, as some accept it with open arms while others with reluctant resignation, but there are also those who are ready to take on this breaking away from accepted norms, especially religion, head-on.

Although the patriarch reigns supreme with his oppressive control over his family, it is not he who is the soul of the household. The book begins with the mother, Amina and ends with her, and although she has a voiceless and docile existence in front of her husband, she is the one who is holding all his kids together in a close knit bond of unconditional love, comfort and support. Two meals which are described in detail were the breakfast and the coffee hour, the first one presided by the father while the other one by the mother. While the former one is marked by the strict patriarchal discipline and is reigned by oppressive silence and feeling of terror inside the hearts of his sons, the second one is mutually inclusive ritual of the day, in which everyone gathers around the mother and share their thoughts and feelings freely. Along with the gradual changes that are taking place in the world and the lives of the members of the Al Jawwad family, the spatial and traditional dynamics of the coffee hour, which is described repeatedly, also keeps altering, but what doesn’t change is the matriarchal bond and the spirit of free love tied with it.

The fall of Al Sayyid Ahmed Al Jawaad as a dictator of the house coincides with the rise of political awakening and fall of the oppressive family system in Egypt and consequential rise of the status of the mother in the household and women in the society. It begins with Al Sayyid’s eldest son finding out the debauch side of his father who is passionate about music, alcohol and women, continues to the time when his sons refused to obey one or other of his orders and culminates in his deteriorating health. The rise of the stature of mother starts as the kids demand the return of their mother to the house who was banished from it by the father on account of disobedience, as she decided to visit the mosque of Al Husayn, housing the grave the prophet Mohammad’s grandson, without her husband’s permission.



“He had two personalities. One was reserved for friends and lovers, the other presented to his family and the world. It was this second visage that sustained his distinction and respectability, guaranteeing him a status beyond normal aspirations. But his caprice was conspiring against the respectable side of his character, threatening to destroy it forever.”


Fortunately for Mahfouz he was writing the book at a time when Egypt was facing remarkable changes on political and family front. It not only allows him a vast canvas to draw his story on, but also enables him the deep phycological and philosophical analysis of changing times through his characters. It is remarkable to observe how each book is ending with a birth and death, making its allegorical significance even more pronounced. The first book that is spanning at the time period of mainly two years sees the end of World War I and rise of political revolution against the English colonisers between 1917-1919. Second book spanning over a period of five years sees the end of one political era and beginning of a new one, along with sharp decline in the patriarchal powers as women started to become visible in educational and work force of the Egyptian society. The third book covering a time lapse of around a decade, ends in the mass political arrests of the ideological and political opponents of the government along with a sharp and steady rise of Islamic Brotherhood and communism respectively, ending in Egypt of 1944. .

The book continuously explores the relationship between man and women and the internal conflict of the characters in the changing times. A steady decline in the material and psychological health of the Al Jawwad family is deeply consistent with the steady decline of socio-economic and political situation of Egypt, which has started to show its impact on her of the two World Wars, economic and political crisis and the constant presence of an unwelcoming outside force aka the English.

Mahfouz succeeds in creating the most profound character arcs in this book. His mastery of prose and of a strong grip on the plot never shakes throughout this 1300 + page book. Not only this but he appears as a very bold writer not shying away from openly discussing the religious conflict in the minds of his characters, their open rebellion against the theory of blind faith and inexplainable religious dogmas. His subtle hints on the homosexuality of his characters,stamps him as a person not reluctant in discussing every aspect of political, religious, ideological and sexual preferences of his people.


“Belief is a matter of willing, not of knowing.”

This is a big LONG read and I wasn't sure what I was undertaking when I got into it. Mahfouz is such a giant of literature in Egypt and so well respected that you really have to read him. And its essential to read him to get some kind of understanding of Egypt, Cairo and Islam and the conflicts within all three. Granted what you are getting is a snapshot of 'as was' to a degree but he opens up topics that are open-ended and not specific to one historical period.

The three books take us through the history of Cairo through the period from 1919 to the Second World War and the changes in Egyptian society through this period. To do this he gives us the history of el-Sayyed Ahmed Abdel Gawad and his family. Through his five children, his wife, his servants, his friends and the next and next generations we come to see Cairo and Egypt evolve - what changes and what remains. It is a dense book in which the character studies play out against this historical and cultural background.

There were times when I found it tedious descending to the level of Trollope, becoming like a giant historical soap opera. There are times when it reads like Pasternak - in fact there is more than a hint of it being an Egyptian Doctor Zhivago. The writing (and thus it goes without saying THIS translation) are cool and considered. But I've really come away with a 'thank-god-thats-finished' feeling at the end of it. Because it IS a snapshot really. I cannot believe that it really marks a relevant comment to those of Tarir Square. But then again some of the elements ARE common. The rise of the Muslim Brotherhood is dealt with in the last book and the cultural clash between Islam and Capitalism has to be accounted for.

Mahfouz is a storyteller, this is his best work, by far and his body of work is impressive. If you have the time, I strongly recommend this series. His narrative takes you into the streets of Cairo and leaves you wanting to continue on. Somehow the 1400 pages are not enough. Great read.

يا الله، ما هذا!

محفوظ لا يكتب عن الحياة، بل يكتب الحياة.
حيث تجد كل تفصيلة مُبهرة، وكل شخصية متفرّدة.
والأحداث منسوجة بدقة وبراعة، وإبداع وعبقرية الزمان ذاته.

وكأن الله قد وهب نصيب البشر من فن الرواية الحديثة لنجيب محفوظ فطمع فيه واستحوذ عليه كله باستثناء جزء بسيط تركه ليتنافس فيه باقي الادباء والكتاب ،رحم الله نجيب محفوظ احد اعظم من كتبوا الرواية العربية

A problem with writing a review of Naguib Mahfouz’s This Cairo Trilogy, (Everman Edition) is that I am not sure if I am the intended audience. A fair aspect in judging artistry is the degree to which the work achieves universality. This goal has to be measured against the context from which the author is writing. In this trilogy it is clear we are reading the work of an artist. Not just my opinion, Mafouz is a Nobel Prize winner. He is also one of the founders of modern Arabic Literature. A large title for the culture that gave us many of our oldest stories. For those who track these things: The major themes are adult but a parent can be proud of such of their children attempt these 1300 pages and not concerned that they might read bad words.

Published in the years 1956 and 1957, The Cairo Trilogy takes us into the household of Al-Sayyid Ahmad 'Abd al-Jawad. There is a multi-level household on Palace Walk in the highly traditional (Observant Muslim) Gamaliya Street in Cairo. The time line begins in World War I and continues past Word War II. The family is the author’s invention but the street, district, history and of particular note the nearby Mosque of al-Hisayn (considered the holiest site in Cairo) are all factually correct. So much of the novel is drawn from reality that one has to be careful least the confusion over words like semi-autobiography cause the reader to misunderstand the creative of the novelist. However much people and place mirror the life of the writer, the creativity is in the presentation of the story rather than adherence to the objective facts. Mahfouz has several stories to tell and what of these stories are inspired from life and how much he sticks to the fictional ‘truth’ of his characters is what matters.

And what characters. The absolute patriarch of the family Al-Sayyid Ahmad 'Abd al-Jawad is almost impossible from a modern point of view. At home his inflexible rule is stated as” I am a man. I’m the one who commands and forbids…”He is the terror of his household who love him even as they fear him and will lie rather than deepen his wrath. He has a secret life that makes him less sympathetic. His Wife, Amina is so willingly complicit in her husband’s domestic tyranny and willfully blind towards his secrets that again, it will be hard for a modern reader to get past a few chapters. These adaptations were not hard for me, but they are only a few aspects of the novel that make it hard for a western reader to become engaged in this family.

The family consists of 3 sons. They will dominate the bulk of the three books. The eldest is the Yasim. He is the son of a prior marriage. He is most often compared to a camel, often as a complement, not always. And here I pause to say that I did not think divorce would be as common as it will be in these books. The younger sons are Fahmy, the family’s fondest hope and highest idealist and the youngest Kamal who will emerge as the intellectual and according to the author is most like himself. There are two daughters, who, given the few number of pages are almost just stereotypes. Aisha, the elder less attractive and with her father’s sense of acerbic dominance and the beautiful and romantic Khadija. By the end of the trilogy there will be a number of characters repressing the merchant classes, the marginalized Women ‘singers’ and the well to do and the political.

Religion will be very much the center of the first book, but by Book 3, Sugar Street it will have almost disappeared, except as it reappears in politics with the rise of the Muslim Brotherhood. The history of Cairo across these years and therefore these books includes a lot of politics. Activist, marches and riots; violent suppression and back room maneuvers each have more than a few paragraphs. This is not a sole focus of the book, but be ready for many pages of political discussion.

This being a review of the trilogy, it could quickly become many pages of plot discussion. Mahfouz leads us through three generations and through them discusses many of the threads that were the domestic and national history of Cairo. Little things like the layout of the house on Palace walk being a typical design of Cairene middle class families and a nod to the needs of its female house hold would be lost except for being mentioned in the introduction.

And this returns us to the problem. Is the audience for the Trilogy universal or domestic? Is he speaking to the greater Middle Eastern Community about uniquely growing tensions within the Muslim world as modern influences have to be part of domestic traditions? Are those of us in the west who cannot be assumed to know how typical this family is or how accurate their portrayal allowed to skip those aspects in favor of the many more universal issues of the books? This family has to address many of the common problems of life. Raising a family, inculcating values, getting educated and providing for immediate and emergent needs. Sickness, death, the philosophy we use to face them and the rest of the usual suspects are herein present. If we are to focus on the universal, than is the context of observant Muslim a matter of making reader view their own lives from a different point of view?

The Cairo Trilogy is a master work. That there is this much to engage the reader is part of the case for. Several of the characters will not resonate with modern readers. Perhaps those readers should reconsider their limits, or at least not project them on Mahfouz. There are certainly pages that might better have been edited out. The Cairo Trilogy is not just a lot of reading it is a lot of book.