The Map of Love
This book by Ahdaf Soueif was shortlisted for the Booker prize in 1999. It’s many things – political, historical, romantic, adventurous, and filled with very good writing. It’s a few years before 2000; an American woman, in love with an Egyptian guy, decides to go to Egypt to see what that ancient land thinks of a new millennium. She brings with her a trunk of old letters from the turn of the century, and so we follow the story of Lady Anna, an Englishwoman in Egypt who also falls in love with an Egyptian guy. The unique part of this book is not only is it written by an Egyptian woman, but the main narrator is also an Egyptian woman; the westerners are imagined through their eyes.
The first part races along with an almost clichéd love story (imperious sheik falls for headstrong foreigner) but gets bogged down in the last section as the politics (modern and ancient) is heavily pushed. The rise of Israel from an Egyptian point of view, the fundamentalists, the push for modernisation and the modern and ancient forms of imperialism are all issues that are tackled. Nothing is easy (well, except for Anna settling into an Egyptian “hareem” without any difficulty or discomfort whatsoever) and nothing turns out particularly well. It’s the birth of a child, rather than the approaching millennium, which brings hope (and I remember the near-euphoric feeling in Australia at that time, quite different).
What’s interesting is that the women in the story are all still on the sidelines. They’re the narrators, they carry the story through the generations, and yet they are utterly powerless. Anna’s husband makes the difference in the old Egypt, Amal’s brother in the new. She can’t even approach the government, has to get an old lover to intercede. None of them are able to live life in public or in freedom; they’re trapped by love and by custom and by a sense of their own limitations. I do wonder if the writer realised this, or whether she just decided to reflect the reality of women – women in Egypt or women worldwide? – as she saw it. In any case, it’s not a particularly uplifting read, but it is fascinating.
The first part races along with an almost clichéd love story (imperious sheik falls for headstrong foreigner) but gets bogged down in the last section as the politics (modern and ancient) is heavily pushed. The rise of Israel from an Egyptian point of view, the fundamentalists, the push for modernisation and the modern and ancient forms of imperialism are all issues that are tackled. Nothing is easy (well, except for Anna settling into an Egyptian “hareem” without any difficulty or discomfort whatsoever) and nothing turns out particularly well. It’s the birth of a child, rather than the approaching millennium, which brings hope (and I remember the near-euphoric feeling in Australia at that time, quite different).
What’s interesting is that the women in the story are all still on the sidelines. They’re the narrators, they carry the story through the generations, and yet they are utterly powerless. Anna’s husband makes the difference in the old Egypt, Amal’s brother in the new. She can’t even approach the government, has to get an old lover to intercede. None of them are able to live life in public or in freedom; they’re trapped by love and by custom and by a sense of their own limitations. I do wonder if the writer realised this, or whether she just decided to reflect the reality of women – women in Egypt or women worldwide? – as she saw it. In any case, it’s not a particularly uplifting read, but it is fascinating.
posted by Carly at 10:39 am
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