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A review by diana_skelton
The Parisian by Isabella Hammad
5.0
So much to love about this exquisite book! Some of my preferred passages:
"Midhat was the only Arab and the only student not from Europe, and in the morning atmosphere of the Salle he felt shy. He observed, remote from conversations, how someone could introduce an anecdote as funny, might even begin by outlining the final joke: the listening company would anticipate the ending and laugh in unison. Once a humourous tone was established, anything could be amusing, and each person was ready to laugh even at the weakest joke in the spirit of including everyone."
"She was energetic: she spoke quickly, she liked drama. But over the years she had changed, and now she loathed the beating of her mind, and deliberately sought out boredom in order to avert it. Her father liked to call her 'the Sphinx.'"
"Hani had often reflected that French foreign policy was determined by the fact that France was poor in manpower where her neighbour Germany was strong. And the main reason for this was that the French treated their women with impractical latitude. French women were far too free. French women were always at the theatre, rather than spending their evenings at home preparing to reproduce. This behaviour of French women was a systemic problem, and the result of it was that the French nation wished to adopt more children, since the women produced none, and this they hoped to achieve by annexing land. Thus, war broke out with Germany."
"Although his old fantasies of becoming French had expired, he still clung to a particular idea of cosmopolitan life. These circular walks therefore, from the stern around the hurricane deck to the prow and back [...] were not only a time to congratulate himself on his recent maturity; they were also a time to prepare for what lay ahead. A new era of prudence was upon him, and there would be no more retiring at daybreak from nights abroad, no more brandy to numb doubt, no more eight o'clock uncertainty over where or what he would be in a few hours' time. Gossip travelled fast in Nablus. Recklessness brought shame on families. [...] There were things to look forward to in Nablus: his cousins, his grandmother, the family at the diwan. But there would also be boredom, and deference to views not his own. The hours on the ship were therefore a time to meditate on the notion of duty, and on his place in that constellation of purpose and tradition which had for the last five years in France been suspended, when with a freedom born of strangeness he had bypassed the laws of family and dallied in the alleyways of chance and rapture."
"As welath developed in Nablus at the turn of the century, and trade routes strengthened between Egypt, Damascus and Beirut, major families were bloated into different factions, and a variety of alliances were formed. [...] And as the city developed its industries of soap and textiles, this became a common occurrence: the leisure time of the new capitalists expanded as their working hours decreased, and gossip started its ruinous motor into the salons of the wealthy. With such wealth came unhappiness, and with unhappiness intrigue, and the circulation of bitter jokes, and the women who had been free to cut wheat in the fields and carry olives in their aprons were locked at last in their homes, to grow fat among cuchions and divert their vigour into childbirth and playing music, and siphon what remained into promulgating rumours about their rivals."
"Nablus was where his duty lay. He was indebted to his father, and for that alone he must marry. This debt was arranged before he was born. His father's care was always based on this future sense, that Midhat would mature like a bond and yield to him. So although one might be convinced momentarily that family ties were petty, in the end, as Jamil said, they were everything."
"In a flash he saw this part he played for the men of Nablus as a kind of inverse of his persona in Paris--the part he used to play for women. He was always marked by his difference. Many times during courtships, he had purposefully weakened his French--which was then near fluent--and found he could play with ease the sweet buffoon and at the same time retain the glamour of hiddenness. There was always something hidden in the folds, something to long for. He could feel it again now, that double view."
"She yearned for the place where her status was secure, and where, most importantly, she was not responsible for maintaining it. Until she married, Fatima had been a prize, famous for being not yet won. Marriage meant someone had named her price. It did not matter that she herself chose her mate: in the eyes of Nablus she was appraised and evaluated, stripped of the precious mystery of being young and undefined. This was the reality she was forced to live under. Forgetting how much as a girl she had hated feeling amorphous, she looked back at her youth and saw, with what she thought were clear eyes, that the anticipation of glory had itself been the real glory, and should have been treasured."
"As the situation became more heated, Antoine supplied more intelligence. But in general the Brits seemed too concerned about Communism among the Jews to pay much heed to intelligence about the Arabs. They were not at first perturbed, for instance, by Antoine's report on arms shipments from Transjordan, which he had drawn from snippets overheard at the hospital."
"He came across the day he had found the letter, like a playing card mislaid and recovered. [...] Now that he had regained his ability to think, the invasion of past no longer horrified him so much. The new horror, surpassing that first, was the fact that everyone pretended the past didn't do that. Everyone lived on the skin of life and pretended they didn't know what they were standing on. How could he go back to pretending, now he knew how flimsy it all was?"
"Do you know why we are here? [...] Because we have an inner life. [...] This is the disease of being civilised. That is why there are more mad Jews than mad Arabs. [...] We are alienated from nature. We are civilised. Whereas the Arabs--you are one with nature."
"He wondered if any were as sane as he was, likewise imprisoned because they had witnessed some part of the world's cloth slashed and corrupted."
"I think they are shocked, the British, we have shocked them, and this is the only thing that may make them relent. They call it a crime, Mish ma'ool. If to want a nation is a crime, we are all criminals! They should lock us all up."
"When Jamil wasn't plotting with Basil, he was on the telephone with leaders in Jerusalem, or with forces in Syria, tallying losses against victories and tracking arms deliveries over the Jordan River, where Arab patrols were bribed with hashish brought on camels from Latakia. He was not a public figure. He saw himself as a quiver of darkness; an actor and also a ligament; the fibre between fighter and fighter."
"Sometimes those in town who did not know Midhat well imitated his gestures and referred to him as 'the Parisian' with an affection that slid into derision. [...] Respectful attention in Nablus had shaded into malice once the Syrians rose up against the French mandate. Everyone knew France was a cancer of imperial force, leaching life from Arab households. To be a Parisian in Nablus was to be out of step with the times, locked in an old colonial formula where subjects imitated masters as if in the seams of their garments they hoped to find some dust of power left trapped."
"Midhat was the only Arab and the only student not from Europe, and in the morning atmosphere of the Salle he felt shy. He observed, remote from conversations, how someone could introduce an anecdote as funny, might even begin by outlining the final joke: the listening company would anticipate the ending and laugh in unison. Once a humourous tone was established, anything could be amusing, and each person was ready to laugh even at the weakest joke in the spirit of including everyone."
"She was energetic: she spoke quickly, she liked drama. But over the years she had changed, and now she loathed the beating of her mind, and deliberately sought out boredom in order to avert it. Her father liked to call her 'the Sphinx.'"
"Hani had often reflected that French foreign policy was determined by the fact that France was poor in manpower where her neighbour Germany was strong. And the main reason for this was that the French treated their women with impractical latitude. French women were far too free. French women were always at the theatre, rather than spending their evenings at home preparing to reproduce. This behaviour of French women was a systemic problem, and the result of it was that the French nation wished to adopt more children, since the women produced none, and this they hoped to achieve by annexing land. Thus, war broke out with Germany."
"Although his old fantasies of becoming French had expired, he still clung to a particular idea of cosmopolitan life. These circular walks therefore, from the stern around the hurricane deck to the prow and back [...] were not only a time to congratulate himself on his recent maturity; they were also a time to prepare for what lay ahead. A new era of prudence was upon him, and there would be no more retiring at daybreak from nights abroad, no more brandy to numb doubt, no more eight o'clock uncertainty over where or what he would be in a few hours' time. Gossip travelled fast in Nablus. Recklessness brought shame on families. [...] There were things to look forward to in Nablus: his cousins, his grandmother, the family at the diwan. But there would also be boredom, and deference to views not his own. The hours on the ship were therefore a time to meditate on the notion of duty, and on his place in that constellation of purpose and tradition which had for the last five years in France been suspended, when with a freedom born of strangeness he had bypassed the laws of family and dallied in the alleyways of chance and rapture."
"As welath developed in Nablus at the turn of the century, and trade routes strengthened between Egypt, Damascus and Beirut, major families were bloated into different factions, and a variety of alliances were formed. [...] And as the city developed its industries of soap and textiles, this became a common occurrence: the leisure time of the new capitalists expanded as their working hours decreased, and gossip started its ruinous motor into the salons of the wealthy. With such wealth came unhappiness, and with unhappiness intrigue, and the circulation of bitter jokes, and the women who had been free to cut wheat in the fields and carry olives in their aprons were locked at last in their homes, to grow fat among cuchions and divert their vigour into childbirth and playing music, and siphon what remained into promulgating rumours about their rivals."
"Nablus was where his duty lay. He was indebted to his father, and for that alone he must marry. This debt was arranged before he was born. His father's care was always based on this future sense, that Midhat would mature like a bond and yield to him. So although one might be convinced momentarily that family ties were petty, in the end, as Jamil said, they were everything."
"In a flash he saw this part he played for the men of Nablus as a kind of inverse of his persona in Paris--the part he used to play for women. He was always marked by his difference. Many times during courtships, he had purposefully weakened his French--which was then near fluent--and found he could play with ease the sweet buffoon and at the same time retain the glamour of hiddenness. There was always something hidden in the folds, something to long for. He could feel it again now, that double view."
"She yearned for the place where her status was secure, and where, most importantly, she was not responsible for maintaining it. Until she married, Fatima had been a prize, famous for being not yet won. Marriage meant someone had named her price. It did not matter that she herself chose her mate: in the eyes of Nablus she was appraised and evaluated, stripped of the precious mystery of being young and undefined. This was the reality she was forced to live under. Forgetting how much as a girl she had hated feeling amorphous, she looked back at her youth and saw, with what she thought were clear eyes, that the anticipation of glory had itself been the real glory, and should have been treasured."
"As the situation became more heated, Antoine supplied more intelligence. But in general the Brits seemed too concerned about Communism among the Jews to pay much heed to intelligence about the Arabs. They were not at first perturbed, for instance, by Antoine's report on arms shipments from Transjordan, which he had drawn from snippets overheard at the hospital."
"He came across the day he had found the letter, like a playing card mislaid and recovered. [...] Now that he had regained his ability to think, the invasion of past no longer horrified him so much. The new horror, surpassing that first, was the fact that everyone pretended the past didn't do that. Everyone lived on the skin of life and pretended they didn't know what they were standing on. How could he go back to pretending, now he knew how flimsy it all was?"
"Do you know why we are here? [...] Because we have an inner life. [...] This is the disease of being civilised. That is why there are more mad Jews than mad Arabs. [...] We are alienated from nature. We are civilised. Whereas the Arabs--you are one with nature."
"He wondered if any were as sane as he was, likewise imprisoned because they had witnessed some part of the world's cloth slashed and corrupted."
"I think they are shocked, the British, we have shocked them, and this is the only thing that may make them relent. They call it a crime, Mish ma'ool. If to want a nation is a crime, we are all criminals! They should lock us all up."
"When Jamil wasn't plotting with Basil, he was on the telephone with leaders in Jerusalem, or with forces in Syria, tallying losses against victories and tracking arms deliveries over the Jordan River, where Arab patrols were bribed with hashish brought on camels from Latakia. He was not a public figure. He saw himself as a quiver of darkness; an actor and also a ligament; the fibre between fighter and fighter."
"Sometimes those in town who did not know Midhat well imitated his gestures and referred to him as 'the Parisian' with an affection that slid into derision. [...] Respectful attention in Nablus had shaded into malice once the Syrians rose up against the French mandate. Everyone knew France was a cancer of imperial force, leaching life from Arab households. To be a Parisian in Nablus was to be out of step with the times, locked in an old colonial formula where subjects imitated masters as if in the seams of their garments they hoped to find some dust of power left trapped."