him so much as his fear that she might complain about him to her father, who would then complain to al-Sayyid Ahmad. He had even decided that if something like that happened he would take a separate house, no matter what the consequences.
His fears were not realized. Despite her grief, the girl proved that she was 'reasonable,' as though she were the same type of woman as his father’s wife. She evaluated her position carefully and resigned herself to the situation. She had to fall back on her husband’s oft-repeated assertions of his fidelity and of the innocence of his nightly excursions. She was content to air her pain and sorrow within the narrow family circle at the coffee hour, where she received no real support. How could she in a household that viewed submission to men as a religion and a creed? Mrs. Amina disapproved of her complaints and was annoyed at her strange craving to monopolize her husband. The mother was unable to imagine women being any different from her or men from her husband. She saw nothing strange in the enjoyment Yasin derived from his freedom. What seemed strange to her was his wife’s complaint.
Only Fahmy appreciated her sorrows. He took it on himself to repeat them to Yasin, although he was certain from the start that he was defending a lost cause. He may have been encouraged to bring up the topic because they met frequently at the coffee shop of Ahmad Abduh in Khan al-Khalili. That coffee shop was situated below ground like a cave hewn from a mountain. Residences of this ancient district formed its roof. Its narrow rooms faced each other around a courtyard with an abandoned fountain, cut off from the outside world. Its lamps were lit both day and night, and it had a calm, dreamy, cool atmosphere.
Yasin had chosen this coffee shop because it was close to Costaki’s bar and because he had been forced to abandon al-Sayyid Ali’s coffee shop in al-Ghuriya after breaking up with Zanuba. The antique look of this new haunt also appealed to his poetic inclinations. Fahmy had not learned the route to coffeehouses as the result of any setback to his career as a diligent student. He came in response to the troubled times, which called on the students and everyone else to meet and consult. He and some comrades had chosen Abduh’s coffeehouse for the antique characteristics that made it a refuge from prying eyes. They sat there evening after evening to talk, scheme, predict, and await forthcoming events.
The two brothers met frequently in one of the small rooms, if only for a short time before Fahmy’s colleagues arrived or Yasin moved on to Costaki’s bar. On one of these occasions, Fahmy alluded to Zaynab’s distress. He expressed his astonishment at his brother’s conduct, which was not compatible with the married life of a young couple. Yasin laughed as though he felt he had every right to mock his brother’s naivete in offering advice about something of which he was totally ignorant. He did not wish to justify his conduct directly, preferring to say whatever came to mind. He told the young man, 'You wanted to marry Maryam. No doubt you were deeply saddened when Father prevented that desire from being fulfilled. I tell you, and I really know what I'm talking about, that if you had known then what marriage conceals beneath the surface you would have praised God for your failure'.
Fahmy was astonished and even alarmed. He had not expected to be assaulted so abruptly by phrases combining the words 'Maryam,' 'marriage,' and 'desire,' which had played unforgettable roles on the stage of his heart. He may have exaggerated his astonishment to conceal the emotional impact of these memories. Perhaps that was the reason he was unable to say a word.
Gesturing to express his weariness and boredom, Yasin continued: 'I never imagined that marriage would be so dreary. In fact, it’s nothing more than a false dream. It’s a cruel and evil swindler'.
These words seemed difficult for Fahmy to stomach and aroused his suspicion. That was only to be expected from a young man whose emotional life was centered on a single goal which could be pictured only in the form of a wife and under the rubric 'marriage'. Fahmy was disturbed to have his irresponsible brother attack this revered category with such bitter sarcasm. He muttered in evident astonishment, 'But your wife’s perfect… a perfect lady'.
Yasin cried out sarcastically, 'A perfect lady! That she is. Isn't she the daughter of a respected gentleman? And her stepmother’s from a distinguished family. Beautiful?… Refined?… Yes, but some unknown demon in charge of married life turns these qualities into trivial characteristics of little interest through the sickening boredom of marriage. These noble but meaningless qualities are like the noble and happy expressions we rain down on a poor person when we offer him our condolences for his poverty'.
Fahmy replied simply and truthfully, 'I don't understand a word you've said'.
'Wait till you learn for yourself'.
'Why have people kept on getting married, then, since the beginning of creation?'
'Because warnings and caution are as futile for marriage as for death'. Yasin continued as though to himself: 'My imagination really tricked me. It lifted me up to worlds of delight superior even to those of my dreams. I kept asking myself: Is it actually true that I'll share a house with a beautiful maiden forever? What a dream!.. But I assure you that there’s no disaster more oppressive than being united with a beautiful woman under one roof forever'.
With the bewilderment of a person so buffeted by youthful passions that he found it difficult to imagine boredom, Fahmy murmured, 'Perhaps you've discovered something else concealed inside a flawless exterior?'
Laughing bitterly, Yasin replied, 'I'm not complaining about anything except the flawless exterior… My complaint is actually based on the beauty itself… It’s beauty that’s made me so bored I'm sick. It’s like a new word that dazzles you the first time. Then you keep repeating it and using it until it’s no different for you than words like 'dog,' 'worm,' 'lesson,' and other commonplace expressions. It loses its novelty and appeal. You may even forget its meaning, so that it becomes a strange, meaningless word you can't use. Perhaps someone else will come across it in your essay and be amazed at your brilliance, while you're amazed at their ignorance. Don't wonder about the disaster of being bored by beauty. It’s a boredom that appears inexcusable and consequently totally condemnable. It’s difficult to try to avoid groundless despair. Don't be surprised at what I'm saying. I excuse you because you're looking at the situation from a distance. Beauty is like a mirage that can only be seen from afar'.
In spite of his brother’s bitter tone, Fahmy doubted it was justified, since from the beginning he had been inclined to blame his brother and not human nature for Yasin’s deviant behavior. Was it not possible that his complaint could be attributed to his shameless behavior before he got married? Fahmy held firm to this assumption because he refused to allow his fondest dreams to be destroyed. Yasin was not as interested in what his brother thought as in getting some things off his own chest. Smiling sweetly for the first time, he continued: 'I've come to understand my father’s position perfectly. I know what turned him into that boisterous man who’s always chasing after romance. How could he have put up with a single dish for a quarter century when I'm dying of boredom after five months?'
Fahmy was upset that his father had been dragged into the conversation. He protested: 'Even if we suppose that your complaint arises from some misery that’s an integral part of human nature, the solution you so cheerfully announce…' he was about to say, 'is far removed from being harmonious or natural,' but to seem more logical he switched to: 'is far removed from religion'.
Yasin was content to limit his observance of religion to belief and paid no serious attention to its commandments or prohibitions. He responded, 'Religion supports my view, as shown by its permission to marry four wives, not to mention the concubines with whom the palaces of the caliphs and wealthy men were packed. Religion acknowledges that even beauty itself, once familiarity and experience make it seem trite, can be boring, sickening, and deadly'.
Fahmy observed with a smile, 'We had a grandfather who spent the evening with one wife and the morning with another. Perhaps you're his heir'.
Yasin murmured with a sigh, 'Perhaps'.
At that time, Yasin had not yet realized any of his rebellious dreams. Although he had returned to the coffeehouse and the bar, he had hesitated before taking the final step of slipping back to Zanuba or some other woman. What had made him reflect and hesitate… some feeling of responsibility toward married life? Perhaps he had not freed himself from respect for the religious view that distinguished between an unmarried fornicator and a married adulterer and punished the latter far more severely? Perhaps until he recovered from the disappointment of the greatest hope he had ever nurtured he would be alienated from worldly pleasures? None of these reasons would have been a serious obstacle capable of restraining him, had he not found an unavoidable and irresistible temptation in the example provided by his father’s life.
Yasin associated the reasonableness of his wife with that of his stepmother. His imagination busied itself sketching out a plan for her future with him based on Mrs. Amina’s life with his father. Yes, he deeply wished that
