Novelists write for themselves. In certain situations, Novelists write in their native language with elements added to make it appealing for a wider readership. Fiction writers from Islamic countries have repeatedly been forced to address the issue of Islamic fundamentalism and over the last decade, homosexuality in Muslim societies. One could argue that one of the roles of fiction is to present prevalent social mores in an imperceptible manner. However, this has smothered a fine novel like Alaa Al Aswany’s The Yacoubian Building.
The Yacoubian Building begins as a delightful read. Khushwant Singh would have said, “Finally, RK Narayan with lots of sex”. The characters (a whole dozen of them) are introduced with a felicity associated with a finely tuned screenplay and the pieces in the ensemble are given enough room to develop. The several introductory sections seamlessly narrates the present lives of the residents and people who hold offices in the Yacoubian Building, while throwing in enough hints of their past. The recounting of there past is not deliberate and one waits anxiously for the characters to reappear after few pages to continue the story arc. Al-Aswany does not disappoint and their paths intersect and crisscross each other. The initial section is a lot like the first fifteen minutes of a Wes Anderson movie and a Raymond Carver story, where the characters are set up and fancifully judged. Unsurprisingly, the film adaptation was Egypt’s entry to the Academy Awards in 2007. I am quite eager to see how the innumerable sexual set pieces (homosexual and heterosexual) were filmed.
The story is set shortly after the gulf war. The underlying theme is the transformation of the Egyptian society through the lives of the people who inhabit Yacoubian Building. Despite being set in 1990, the protagonists’ vaguely refer to the 1952 revolution by Gamal Abdel Nasser as the pivotal point in their lives.
Zaki Bey, the promiscuous 65 year old son of former prime minister whose life is carelessly overturned by the movement and “his obsession with sexual pleasure”
“Zaki Bey studied engineering in Paris. It has been expected, of course, that he would play a leading political role in Egypt using his father’s influence and wealth, but suddenly the Revolution erupted and everything changed”
The description of Hatim Rasheed’s (the closeted homosexual) family before the revolution also recalls a much more “peaceful” time
“The family lived a life that was European in both form and essence. Hatim could not remember ever seeing his father pray or fast. The pipe never left his mouth, there was always French wine at his table, …”
And later after dinner with a lot younger, Busayna, Zaki harangues,
“The damage he did to the Egyptian character will take years to repair. Abd el Nasser taught the Egyptians to be cowards, opportunist, and hypocrites.”
The Yacoubian Building is also about dreams and desires, which are constrained and achieved by the very qualities mentioned by Zaki. However, the days of there lives are presented in a colorful, humorous tone, which almost ridicules the desires. When are frank self-observations made on human condition? Is it after satiation of one’s desires or the failure of the same? Yacoubian Building provides several answers to chew on.
The twin burdens of a novel from Islamic nations- religious fundamentalism and homosexuality seem to have artificially plugged in into the narrative. The transformation of the son of the doorkeeper from a pious Muslim to an extremist through student gihad organization has been tread upon numerous times and is filled with clichés.
“We do not want Islamic Nation to be either socialist or democratic. We want it Islamic-Islamic, and we will struggle and give up our lives and all we hold dear till Egypt is Islamic once more”
Aswany meanders on these two issues and does not provide a fresh slant and perspective. The swift disappointing end includes a suicide bombing, a surprising marriage, and a murder (a result of excessive desire). Despite this, the book is to be devoured for its insightful first section written with a cheerful, mocking third person narrative.
The Yacoubian Building begins as a delightful read. Khushwant Singh would have said, “Finally, RK Narayan with lots of sex”. The characters (a whole dozen of them) are introduced with a felicity associated with a finely tuned screenplay and the pieces in the ensemble are given enough room to develop. The several introductory sections seamlessly narrates the present lives of the residents and people who hold offices in the Yacoubian Building, while throwing in enough hints of their past. The recounting of there past is not deliberate and one waits anxiously for the characters to reappear after few pages to continue the story arc. Al-Aswany does not disappoint and their paths intersect and crisscross each other. The initial section is a lot like the first fifteen minutes of a Wes Anderson movie and a Raymond Carver story, where the characters are set up and fancifully judged. Unsurprisingly, the film adaptation was Egypt’s entry to the Academy Awards in 2007. I am quite eager to see how the innumerable sexual set pieces (homosexual and heterosexual) were filmed.
The story is set shortly after the gulf war. The underlying theme is the transformation of the Egyptian society through the lives of the people who inhabit Yacoubian Building. Despite being set in 1990, the protagonists’ vaguely refer to the 1952 revolution by Gamal Abdel Nasser as the pivotal point in their lives.
Zaki Bey, the promiscuous 65 year old son of former prime minister whose life is carelessly overturned by the movement and “his obsession with sexual pleasure”
“Zaki Bey studied engineering in Paris. It has been expected, of course, that he would play a leading political role in Egypt using his father’s influence and wealth, but suddenly the Revolution erupted and everything changed”
The description of Hatim Rasheed’s (the closeted homosexual) family before the revolution also recalls a much more “peaceful” time
“The family lived a life that was European in both form and essence. Hatim could not remember ever seeing his father pray or fast. The pipe never left his mouth, there was always French wine at his table, …”
And later after dinner with a lot younger, Busayna, Zaki harangues,
“The damage he did to the Egyptian character will take years to repair. Abd el Nasser taught the Egyptians to be cowards, opportunist, and hypocrites.”
The Yacoubian Building is also about dreams and desires, which are constrained and achieved by the very qualities mentioned by Zaki. However, the days of there lives are presented in a colorful, humorous tone, which almost ridicules the desires. When are frank self-observations made on human condition? Is it after satiation of one’s desires or the failure of the same? Yacoubian Building provides several answers to chew on.
The twin burdens of a novel from Islamic nations- religious fundamentalism and homosexuality seem to have artificially plugged in into the narrative. The transformation of the son of the doorkeeper from a pious Muslim to an extremist through student gihad organization has been tread upon numerous times and is filled with clichés.
“We do not want Islamic Nation to be either socialist or democratic. We want it Islamic-Islamic, and we will struggle and give up our lives and all we hold dear till Egypt is Islamic once more”
Aswany meanders on these two issues and does not provide a fresh slant and perspective. The swift disappointing end includes a suicide bombing, a surprising marriage, and a murder (a result of excessive desire). Despite this, the book is to be devoured for its insightful first section written with a cheerful, mocking third person narrative.
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