Husni / Newman Modern Arabic Short Stories

A Bilingual Reader
1. Auflage 2012
ISBN: 978-0-8465-9886-2
Verlag: Saqi Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 296 Seiten

The stories collected here are by leading authors of the short story form in the Middle East today. In addition to works by writers already wellknown in the West, such as Idwar al-Kharrat, Fu'ad al-Takarli and Nobel Prize winner Najib Mahfuz, the collection includes stories by key authors whose fame has hitherto been restricted to the Middle East. This bilingual reader is ideal for students of Arabic as well as lovers of literature who wish to broaden their appreciation of the work of Middle Eastern writers. The collection features stories in the original Arabic, accompanied by an English translation and a brief author biography, as well as a discussion of context and background. Each story is followed by a glossary and discussion of problematic language points.

Ronak Husni is Head of Arabic and Translation Studies and Professor of Arabic Studies at the American University of Sharjah, UAE. Daniel L. Newman is Course Director of the MA in Arabic/English Translation at the University of Durham. He has also published An Imam in Paris (Saqi).

Autoren/Hrsg.

Husni, Ronak

Newman, Daniel L.

Leseproben

A Lonely Woman
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Aziza was a beautiful girl with a fear of black cats. She looked worried the moment she sat down in front of Sheikh Said. His eyes were jet-black and fiery. They closed in on Aziza, who was trying to ward off an ever-increasing panic, exacerbated by the smell of incense rising from a copper dish, which filled her nostrils and slowly numbed her body. Sheikh Said said: “So, you want your husband to return to you?” “I want him to return to me,” Aziza replied, hesitantly. Sheikh Said smiled as he added, mournfully: “His family wants him to get married again.” He threw bits of incense into the dish filled with live coal, and said: “Your husband will return to you, and he will not take another wife.” His voice was sedate and soft, and soothed Aziza, who heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction. The Sheikh’s face lit up. “However, my work doesn’t come cheap,” he said. Aziza’s face dropped. Staring at the gold bracelet on her wrist, she said: “I’ll pay you what you want.” The Sheikh grinned, and said: “You will lose a little, but you will regain your husband. Do you love him?” Aziza angrily muttered under her breath: “No, I don’t.” “Did you have a fight with him?” “I quarrelled with his family.” “Does your chest feel tight?” “I sometimes feel as if I have a heavy weight on my chest.” “Do you have any disturbing dreams?” “At night I always wake up from my sleep, frightened.” Sheikh Said shook his head several times and said: “Obviously, your in-laws have bewitched you.” Aziza was gripped with fear and shouted: “What can I do?” “To end their magic spell would require ten pounds’ worth of incense.” Aziza was silent for a moment. She raised her hand to her chest, and took out ten pounds from her dress. She handed the money to Sheikh Said, and said: “That’s all I have.” Sheikh Said got up and closed the black curtains in front of the two windows overlooking the narrow winding alley. Then he came back and sat in front of the copper dish in which the embers were glowing over smooth white ashes. He threw in some more incense, and said: “My brothers, the jinn, hate the light and love darkness because their houses are underground.” Outside, the day was like a white-skinned woman. The sun’s yellow rays burned down on the streets and fused with the murmur of the crowds. Sheikh Said’s room, however, was dark and quiet. “My brothers, the jinn, are kind. You’ll be lucky if you gain their love. They love beautiful women. Remove your wrap.” Aziza took off her black wrap, revealing her buxom body, enveloped in a tight dress, to Sheikh Said. The Sheikh started to read from a book with yellow-stained pages in a low, mysterious voice. After a while, he said: “Come closer … Lie down here.” Aziza lay down near the incense dish. Sheikh Said put his hand on her forehead while he continued reciting strange words. Suddenly, he said to Aziza: “Close your eyes. My brothers the jinn will arrive shortly.” Aziza closed her eyes and the Sheikh’s voice rose, in a harsh commanding tone: “Forget everything.” The Sheikh’s hand touched her smooth face. She remembered her father. The Sheikh’s hand was rough, and had a strange smell. It was a big hand, no doubt with many wrinkles. His voice, too, was strange; it rose gradually in the quiet room with its dust-coloured walls. The Sheikh’s hand reached Aziza’s neck. She remembered her husband’s hand; it was soft and tender, like a woman’s. He worked as a clerk in a grocery shop owned by his father. He never once attempted to caress her neck with tenderness; instead, his clawing fingers would grope the flesh of her thighs. The Sheikh placed both his hands on her. His hands gently ran across her full breasts, and then moved down along the rest of her body, only to return once more to her bosom. This time, however, they were less gentle and began to squeeze her breasts ferociously. Aziza moaned. With difficulty, she opened her eyes, gazing at the wisps of smoke spreading through the room. Sheikh Said took his hands away from Aziza. He continued his reading, added some incense on the burning embers in the dish, and said: “My brothers the jinn are coming … They’re coming.” A sharp jolt spread through Aziza’s body, and she closed her eyes. With a voice that seemed to come from the other side of the world, Sheikh Said intoned: “My brothers, the jinn, love beautiful women. You’re beautiful, and they’ll love you. I want them to see you naked when they come. They’ll take away all the magic spells.” Panic-stricken, Aziza whispered: “No … no …” The sheikh replied sternly: “They will hurt you if they don’t love you.” Aziza remembered a man she once saw in the street. He was screaming like a wounded animal before collapsing, white foam forming on his mouth, kicking with his hands and legs as if he was drowning. “No … no … no.” “They’re coming.” The smell of incense grew much stronger. Aziza started to breathe loudly. Sheikh Said shouted: “Come, blessed ones, come!” Aziza heard faint, joyful laughs and words she could not understand. She sensed the presence in the room of a large number of dwarf-like creatures. She could not open her eyes in spite of repeated attempts to do so. She felt the creatures’ hot breath on her face. One of them grabbed hold of her lower lip, and greedily squeezed it. The carpet felt rough under her naked back. The incense fumes gathered and turned into a man who held her in his arms and anaesthetized her with his kisses. A wild fire erupted in her blood as the mouth left her lips and moved to the rest of her body. Aziza was panting, too afraid to move. Then her fear subsided, and she slowly began to experience a novel sense of ecstasy. She smiled as she looked at white stars, a dark-blue sky, yellow plains and a fiery red sun. She heard the murmur of a river in the distance. However, the river would not remain remote. She laughed with joy. Sadness was a child that was running away from her. Now she was an adolescent. The neighbours’ son kissed and embraced her. No … No … This was shameful. Like when the baker’s assistant gave her some bread while she was standing at the door of her house; then, suddenly, his hand shot out and pinched the nipple of her small breast. She was hurt, angry and confused. Where is his hand? Ah, here it is. His hand once again touched her body. On her wedding night she had screamed in pain, but now she does not scream. She saw her mother holding up a handkerchief, soaked with blood, while her relatives looked on, curiously. Her mother was shouting, her face beaming with joy: “My girl is the most honourable! Let our enemies die of envy!” Aziza returned to the dry, yellow fields. The clouds were high in the sky. The heat of the sun was close to her. She twisted and turned, flushed, her body burned by a fierce heat. The sun was a fire closing in on her, sneaking into her blood. Aziza resisted peaking. At that moment, the rain poured down, and her entire body shuddered. After a short while, Sheikh Said moved away from Aziza’s naked body and headed towards the window. He drew back the curtains. Daylight flooded the room, setting Aziza’s white flesh aglow. Aziza was restless, and opened her eyes slowly and carefully, surprised at the brightness of the sunlight. She got up, feeling frightened. Sheikh Said said: “Don’t worry. My brothers, the jinn, have left.” Aziza bent down, weary and ashamed. She picked up a piece of her clothing. She wished she could have lain there for a long time, motionless, eyes closed. Sheikh Said wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said to her: “Don’t be afraid … They’ve left.” Tears ran down her cheeks. At that moment, she heard the cry of a hawker in the alley. It sounded to her like the weeping of a desperate man who would not die. A few minutes later, Aziza was walking alone in the narrow twisting alley. She raised her head expectantly, but there was no passing bird. The sky was blue and empty. .
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Language Notes
1. this is an old-fashioned, traditional name that derives from the male name which is also an adjective meaning “precious” or “dear”. It is worth pointing out that many Arabic and Muslim names have adjectival meanings and most of them are used for both sexes, e.g. (“happy”), (“sound”), (“beautiful”), (“rightly guided”). 2. variously transcribed in English as Shaikh, Sheik, Shaykh or Sheikh, the word initially meant “old man” (this meaning is also used in the Qur’an). Later on, the term became a title referring to a leader, noble or elder. It is also a term of address for an Islamic religious or legal scholar, while it is often extended to those purporting to have this expertise, as is the case in this story. Sheikh Sa‘id in this story is not a genuine Islamic scholar, but someone who pretends to have the power and knowledge to undo magic spells. 3. this is one of the plurals of (“brother”), the other one being Note, however, that there is a difference in meaning; the latter plural is used in the sense of ‘brethren’, as in, for instance, “The Muslim Brotherhood”. 4. (coll. cf. ) “Genie”...