A review by avsharp
Sex and Lies, by Leïla Slimani
4.0
A series of essays exploring the different perspectives of Moroccan women - and some men, too - on the subject of sexual repression in a country with two faces: one that views sex and the liberation of women with suspicion, disgust, and outrage, in keeping with conservative Arab culture, and one that views sex as a commodity, and laws repressing any sensual expression as hurdles to be jumped and barriers to be circumvented, as long as this is done discreetly.
Slimani portrays Moroccan society as endlessly obsessed with sex as a result of its constant failure to reconcile these conflicting attitudes. Women are caught in the crossfire, their bodies raised as paragons of virginal virtue and family honour, or vilified as broken, soiled, whorish temptations and disposable vessels for pleasure. Men expect to be allowed to indulge in as much sex as they wish, but expect their future wives to be virgins, without realising the paradoxical irony of these demands. The law forbids sex, homosexuality and prostitution, but avoids confronting these practices, however rife, enforcing them inconsistently in a pattern of personal and politically-motivated denouncements where policemen might be paid to look the other way, but an angry mob might beat you to death even if they themselves are guilty of the same 'crimes'.
Over the course of these sensitive yet open and honest essays, she exposes these hypocrisies and sheds light on the dangers faced by the women of Morocco forced to navigate this twisted cultural landscape in a way that leaves the reader filled with sympathy, weariness and outrage.
An excellent insight to help readers understand the modern challenges and crisis of identity currently experienced by Moroccan society.
Slimani portrays Moroccan society as endlessly obsessed with sex as a result of its constant failure to reconcile these conflicting attitudes. Women are caught in the crossfire, their bodies raised as paragons of virginal virtue and family honour, or vilified as broken, soiled, whorish temptations and disposable vessels for pleasure. Men expect to be allowed to indulge in as much sex as they wish, but expect their future wives to be virgins, without realising the paradoxical irony of these demands. The law forbids sex, homosexuality and prostitution, but avoids confronting these practices, however rife, enforcing them inconsistently in a pattern of personal and politically-motivated denouncements where policemen might be paid to look the other way, but an angry mob might beat you to death even if they themselves are guilty of the same 'crimes'.
Over the course of these sensitive yet open and honest essays, she exposes these hypocrisies and sheds light on the dangers faced by the women of Morocco forced to navigate this twisted cultural landscape in a way that leaves the reader filled with sympathy, weariness and outrage.
An excellent insight to help readers understand the modern challenges and crisis of identity currently experienced by Moroccan society.