THE NOVELS OF
TAWFIQ AL-HAKIM
Denis Hoppe
Submitted to the Department of Oriental Studies in Partial Fulfillment
of the Requirements for the Bachelor of Arts Degree.
April 19, 1969
PREFACE
Modern
Arabic literature is only beginning to receive the attention it deserves. It has suffered neglect for many years,
after the distinguished Orientalist H.A.R. Gibb cast off its early novelistic
attempts as unworthy in his famous essay of 1933, “Studies in
Contemporary Arabic Literature.”
In the essay, Gibb said that the problem with modern Arabic novels was
that they were at best weak imitations of western techniques and did not apply
to Arab society. Since that essay,
two whole new generations of Arab novelists have been developing. Tawfiq al-Hakim is one of the greatest
of these new writers, although some say that he is now becoming old and may
soon be surpassed by others.
Since his
novelistic career is almost complete, one can look at it as a whole and observe
certain basic themes. The aim of
this paper is to present three of Hakim’s concerns as an artist and
discuss these as they are reflected in his Audet al-Ruh(Return of the
Spirit), Yomiyat Na’ib fil Aryaf(Maze of Justice), Usfour min
al-Sharq(Bird from the East, Ash’ab, al-Ribat al-Muqaddas(the
Holy Bond), and Bank al-Qalaq(Bank of Worry).
I have tried to
read as much of what Hakim’s critics have said about him in his own
country before writing this paper.
I have included many of their views of Hakim in the paper in order to
give the reader an idea about the literary discussion over his works taking
place in Egypt today. The
bibliography of magazine articles and books on Hakim at the end of the paper
suggests still further critical viewpoints.
My chief
indebtedness is to my advisor, Mr. Wadi’ Haddad, who steered me through
many of the critical works and helped me arrive at my ideas on his novels. Also I am indebted to my teachers, L.
Carl Brown and Andras Hamori, who, unknowingly suggested to me some of the
ideas on Hakim’s position in society and his relation to Jahiz. Asad Khairalla, a graduate student at
Princeton pointed out to me several articles on Hakim, which have aided me in
my research.
CONTENTS
Preface
I. Introduction
to the Life and Works
of
Tawfiq al-Hakim. 1
Childhood
and formative literary years.
Period
of leisure in government posts
and
first success. 4
Period
of honorary appointments and
modernistic
writings 6
II. The
Eastern Enchantment. 9
Influences
of the past in Yomiyat. 10
a. Hakim's preference for Jahiz
and Shaherazade. 10
b. Influences on the ordering
of Yomiyat 13
1)Jahiz
disorder. 13
2)Sheherazade
story-pattern 15
c. The enchantment of Shaherazade. 17
Easternism
in Hakim's other works. 20
a. Plays 21
b. Reflections on Sheharazade 22
c. Short Stories 23
d. Novels 24
III.
Hakim's Patriotic Concerns 29
'Audet
al-Ruh: a patriotic novel. 29
Hakim's
concern for social problems. 41
Hakim
as national writer of Egypt 44
a. Hakim's contributions to the
development of literary
Arabic 45
b. Hakim's reputation as a
woman-hater. 51
IV. Hakim's
View of Life 54
Al-Ribat
al-Muqaddas 57
Bank
al-Qalaq 63
Conclusion 71
Bibliography 75
Biographical
Works on Hakim 75
Critical
Works on Hakim 76
Other
Works Consulted 80
Appendix:
Chronological Listing of Hakim's
Main
Works. 82
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION TO THE LIFE AND WORKS OF TAWFIQ
AL-HAKIM1
This
paper is on the novels of Tawfiq al-Hakim, but since he has written a great
deal more outside the novel, especially in the theater field, it is worthwhile
to sum up his total literary career by way of introduction.
Hakim's
childhood and formative literary years
Tawfiq
al-Hakim was born in Alexandria in 1898.
His father was from the so-called wealthy peasant class and had married
a Turkish lady. His parents'
comparative wealth and bourgeois pride led them to scorn the Egyptian peasantry
and to isolate the young Tawfiq from any companionships among the poorer boys
who lived near their country estate.
Perhaps this lack of companionship led him to enter an inner world of
thought at an early age, since the doors to the outer world were closed to him.
His
mother introduced him to art, giving him books to read and letting him
participate in the back-stage activities of a local troop of dancers and
musicians. He went to secondary
school in Damanhour, a market town near the family estate in the Delta, and
then was sent to the Mohammed Ali School in Cairo for his secondary
education. In Cairo he lived with
his father's cousins, who were poor, but whom he liked because of their natural
gaiety and openness.
In
1919, he and his cousins participated in the revolution in favor of Saad
Zaghloul against the British. When
about twenty-one years old, he was put in prison for a time because of his
distribution of revolutionary tracts and poems. In 1921 he began studying law at the Sultaniya Law School,
which had become the principle training ground for Egypt's intellectual leaders
of the new generation, as the Azhar had been for the generation before. Mustapha Kamil and Ahmed Lutfy Sayyid
had been graduates. al-Hakim
graduated in 1924 in a class with Yahya Haqqi, who later became an ambassador
and a novelist.1
While
in law school he associated with the directors and actors of the active Cairo
theaters. He was totally enchanted
by the theater, as one can see by reading some of his autobiographical short
stories written about his student days.
He wrote some plays during this time, but they are mediocre. Though as yet unpublished, they are
still performed.
He
finished law school in 1924 and persuaded his father to send him to Paris to
study for his doctorate in Law.
There he stayed about four years studying not only law but French and
Western culture in general. He
read French novels, went to plays and concerts and discussed literature with
the artists of Paris. With his
father's wealth, he was able to live the life of a devoted student of the arts
in Paris. While there he decided
to prepare himself to become one of the national writers of his country in the
field of the novel and the theater.
He began writing his famous novel about pre-revolution Egypt, 'Audet
al-Ruh(Return of the Spirit), while he was in Paris. In fact he wrote it in French and later
transposed to Arabic and published it in 1933. He wrote some of his first short stories in Paris and later
published them in Ahl al-Fann(The Arty People) in 1934.1 "Al-Sha'ir"(The Poet) from
these early stories has been translated into French:2 it is reminiscent of the Parisian impressions of
many other expatriate artists have had in Montmartre. He also wrote his first well-known plays in Paris. His humorous "Devant le Guichet"
was first performed in Paris and later translated into Arabic as Amam
shubbak al-Tathakir.3
In
1928 he returned to Egypt and got a job as attorney to the Public Prosecutor,
working in the district courts of the Delta. These six years in the country gave him the opportunity of
meeting many people who would later become characters in his social plays and
novels, such as Yomiyat Na'ib fil-Aryaf(Diary of a Deputy Prosecutor in
the Country). The short stories in
al-'Adaleh wa al-Fann are more incidents like those related in Yomiyat
which take place in the country. Yomiyat
Na'ib fil Aryaf has been translated into many languages, including English.1 Some of the stories in al-'Adaleh wa
al-Fann have been translated into French.2
Hakim's period of leisure in
government posts and first success
In 1933, he became Inspector General for the
Ministry of Education and stayed in this post until 1939 when he moved to the
Ministry of Social Affairs as Director of Social Guidance. He retired from government service in
1943. During this second period in
his life, a period of easy desk jobs, he refined and published the works he had
been working on before. Thus his
famous Ahl al-Kahf(The Men of the Cave) appeared in 1933, as well as 'Audet
al-Ruh(1933), and Shahrazad in 1934, assuring his reputation as one
of Egypt's greatest writers. Since
his only contact with the world was his desk job in the ministry, he became
known as the writer in the Ivory Tower.
He wrote many essays and short stories on society, politics, and art,
which played a formative role on the thoughts of many Egyptians of his day, and
even today they are often quoted.
He turned increasingly to plays, many of which were about society, and
politics. They have recently been
collected in his Masrah al-Mujtama'(Theater of Society).1 He
treats his country's problems with a humorous touch. Many of these plays have been translated into French. He continued to write serious
full-length plays, dealing with the mystical search for a higher world here on
earth, elaborating on the themes and conflicts brought out in Ahl al-Kahf
and Shahrazad. He used
subjects frown from the Bible, the Koran, "Song of
Songs," and The Arabian Nights. The critics have called these serious plays his "masrah
dhihiny," or "intellectual theater," since these plays deal more
with thoughts than with actions, and some, like Muhammad are too long or
too involved to be performed on the stage. The language is not poetical, but has a certain
lightness. Plots develop quickly
through exciting dialogues, and are not impeded by long soliloquies.
Hakim's period of honorary
appointments and modern writings
After withdrawing from government service in
1943, he has devoted himself to writing, although he has held several important
positions. During 'Abd al-Naser's
revolution, he was an editor of the newspaper al-Ahram, and afterwards
was appointed head of the national library. In 1956 he was made an honorary member of the High Council
of Arts and Letters. In 1959 he
was appointed to be the U.A.R.'s representative to UNESCO in Paris, but
preferred to return to do active work on the High Council of the Arts in
1960. During this period of high
appointments, he wrote his anti-feminine novel, al-Ribat al-Muqaddas(1945). Although he has married, and forgiven
women some of their faults, he was always anti-feminine. He feels that a woman is the flower of
the arts, culture and society, but that like some flowers she has thorns with
which she ensnares man and causes unspeakable trouble.
He published two collections of short
stories, Qusas Tawfiq al-Hakim(Short Stories of Tawfiq al-Hakim) in 1949
and 'Arni Allah(Show Me God) in 1952. Twelve of these fanciful stories have been translated into
French in Part Two of Souvenirs d'un Magistrat-Poete, and one of them
called "Mu'jizat wa Karamat"1 has
been translated into English as "Miracles For Sale" in Denys
Johnson-Davies' new collection, Modern Arabic Short Stories(Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 1967).
He continued writing plays, some of which
are modern in the manner of an Ionesco or a Pirandello, like Ya Tali'a
Shajara(1963) which was translated into English in 1966 by Denys
Johnson-Davies as The Tree Climber(Oxford: U.P). Others,
like al-Safqa(The Deal)(Cairo:
Maktabat al-Adab, 1956), are addressed to the Egyptian people, and
designed to be performed in the most primitive of villages with a minimum of
props.
His most recent work is a fantastic,
imaginary novel, Bank al-Qalaq(Bank of Anxiety. Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1966).
Like many of his modern plays, it is a dialogue of confusion and
anxiety, showing the dualistic nature of ultra-modern man.
Amid his large output of other writing,
especially plays, Hakim's novels seem to take a place of second importance, but
actually they are as much a part of him as his plays and some of them, like Yomiyat
Na'ib fil Aryaf and Bank al-Qalaq are equal to the best of his
plays. 'Audet al-Ruh and 'Usfour
min al-Sharq(Bird From the East) are likewise important because of their
large following in Egypt and the Arab World, even if their artistry is not as
refined as some would like it to be.
Hakim's novels vary in form. He has written a novel in diary form, a
novel of ideas in the French manner, and a modern atmospheric novel which
fluctuates between existence as a novel and as a play. In spite of the variety, however,
certain forces in Hakim's work make him distinctive. He looks at life and art in a special way. This paper is composed of three essays
on three basic themes in his work:
1) his sense of artistic
continuum with the Arab past, 2)
his patriotic concern for his country, and 3), most characteristic of
Hakim, his belief in the mystical feelings which raise the spirit and the heart
above cold logic and material objects.
CHAPTER II
THE EASTERN ENCHANTMENT
If modern Arabic literature is ever destined
to become popular in these Anglo-Saxon lands, as Chinese and Japanese
literature have, probably translations of Tawfiq al-Hakim will lead the
way. For he, more than any other
Arab writer, sees the Arab world through the rose-colored glasses of the
West. His view of the Arab world
is tinted by the enchantment expected of the East, but which many Easterners
themselves do not feel. This is
not to say that there is anything artificial or cute about his writing. He gratifies the Westerner's delight in
witnessing the Eastern soul, but he also shows the difficulties of living with
such a soul. This tragic aspect in
Hakim's Easternism makes him more solid than innumerable romantics who have
written about the exotic Middle East, without recognizing the contradictions in
the very Eastern soul which seems so mysterious. The tragic side of Hakim, however, will be the subject of
the last essay. This first essay
will deal in his Easternism from an artistic standpoint. One of the most striking
characteristics of Hakim is his sensitivity to the Arab past. Like the great playwright, Ahmed
Shawqi, he took subjects for his writing from the ancient works, Arab folk
tales, The Thousand and One Nights, the Bible, and the Koran. All his works reflect a deep respect
for the East and its unique heritage. As an artist, he tried to incorporate into his work what he
felt was the essence of past Arab genius.
I.
INFLUENCES OF THE EAST IN YOMIYAT.
Hakim's Preference for Jahiz
and Sheherazade.
His most successful attempt to produce a
distinctly Eastern novel is his Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf(The maze of
Justice 1937), although it may be argued that certain characteristics of Egypt
such as "Heart," "Spirit," and community are better
discussed in 'Audet al-Ruh(Return of the Spirit, 1933); and certainly some of his plays are his
greatest attempts to evoke the East.
Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf is, at first
glance, not a novel but a diary, yet its being so does not denigrate it as
literature. Robinson Crusoe
is partially a diary, yet it is one of the pillars of the English novel. In the Western world, Yomiyat Na'ib
fil Aryaf passes for a good novel, although its seemingly unstructured day
by day plot confuses the reader and leads one translator to give it the English
title of The Maze of justice.
It hovers, then, between the novel and the diary, but its real charm is
that it is neither one nor the other;
but rather that it is a fresh, peculiarly Eastern form inspired by the Thousand
and One Nights.1
In a short essay on Arabic
literature, Hakim himself describes his novel, explaining the Thousand and
One Nights form which came upon it almost unconsciously:2
"Moreover, contemporary Arab writing,
even in its most modern forms, has not forgotten--no doubt by instinct--the
technique of certain ancient works.
Here I must excuse myself if I use one of my own works because its
example is especially obvious: Yomiyat
Na'ib fil Aryaf or "The Diary of a Deputy Prosecutor in the
Country." It is not actually
a diary in the strict sense of the word.
Its day entries are recounted in the same manner as the Thousand and
One Nights. On each day an
incident is treated which could easily be considered as a separate story if it
were not for the presence of several characters who tie together all the
incidents throughout the book just as Shaherazade, Shahriar, and Dunyazade,
etc. do for the Nights. The
traces of this old technique nevertheless lie hidden under this form which most
people consider modern."
With this statement for a
beginning, one can see more clearly how some of Hakim's favorite ancient
literature lent itself to modern forms.
His favorite pieces were the Thousand and One Nights, the Bukhala'(The
Misers) and other works of Jahiz, and the Koran. He felt that these three were true
creative masterpieces, and that much of the remainder of Arabic literature was
redundant and alienated from the real life of the people themselves. Even though the Thousand and One
Nights lacked style, its stories had a kind of immediacy which was a real
art and worthy of imitation. But
instead of the respect they deserved, the Nights were despised by the
artists of the medieval periods, who preferred to confine themselves to poetry,
or to long poetic accounts known as Maqamat. Al-Jahiz, the famous ninth century writer on everything
under the sun, was famous for developing a prose style which became a worthy
medium for thought apart from the traditionally respected poetic forms. Jahiz, too, was like the author of The
Thousand and One Nights in that he took many of his examples and stories
from the daily life of the people, both rich and poor.
In Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf the traces
of both Jahiz and Sheherazade add a special Eastern touch which goes beyond
mere local color effect or nostalgic romanticism, but in fact affect the very
structure and tone of the novel.
First of all, the novel has a vague, circular order controlling the
seemingly fortuitous jumping from event to event, in the manner of Jahiz and
the chain stories in the Thousand and One Nights. Secondly, from the Nights comes
the ingenious and subtle technique of using a beautiful and mysterious woman to
keep the jumble of events related in the reader's mind, and to cast a mood of
excitement and beauty over the other events. The incorporation of these old Arabic techniques will be
examined in detail.
Influences on the Ordering
of Yomiyat
The circular ordering in Yomiyat Na'ib fil
Aryaf may come from a combination of Jahiz and the Thousand and One
Nights.
Disordering Influences From Jahiz. From Jahiz comes the apparent non-order
of Hakim's Yomiyat. All of
Jahiz's works tend to ramble from one topic to another. In the Bukhala', for example, he
orders himself around his topic:
i.e.. miserliness. Anything
that has to do with misers and the things they do, he puts down with only a
feeble attempt at division into categories or localities, for example. The mediaeval Arab mind delighted in
effusive variety, in contrast to the medieval French mind of Montaigne, for
example who, even at that early age wrote well-structured, logical essays of
the type prized by the French even today.
Consequently, the Bukhala' is a never-ending chain of short
stories about people very much like Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf. Like the people in the Bukhala',
the sundry types the narrator meets in the country courts and country roads are all related in that
they are loaded points for the author's argument. As misers are the topic in the Bukhala' so legal
misfits are the subject of Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf.
In the case of the Bukhala' it is the
variety itself which saves the work from weakness. The delight in reading Jahiz comes from letting the mind
wander from one subject to another and succumbing to the humor and wittiness of
the author. Much the same can be
said for Hakim's Maze of Justice:
its variety is its spiciness.
The deputy in Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf pursues his functions day
by day, and is drawn here and there--to inspect the jails where he sees that
the police chief has temporarily imprisoned people from the opposite party
during the elections, or to visit the religious judge(who elaborates on his
piously conservative opinions on the new school teacher and Einstein), or to do
a hundred other chores. Sometimes,
these humorous and satiric sketches are related vaguely to the story--the visit
to the religious judge, for example, was in order to get his opinion of the
author of a mysterious note about the attempted killing of the pretty girl,
Rim; but often, too, they are mere
digressions and have nothing to do with the mystery story.
Influences from the
Broken-story Method of Shehrazade
This mystery story referred to is not a developed
story with plot, climax and character development, in the manner so dear to
western fiction. It is no more
than a subtle type of frame story, of the type used in the Thousand and One
Nights. The story in Yomiyat
Na’ib fil Aryaf begins
with the deputy getting up in the middle of the night to investigate an
attempted shooting. When he
arrives at the location of the crime, he learns that the wounded man had a
ward. She is called to be a
witness, and when she comes, all are struck dumbfounded by her beauty. This is the only time she is actually
described in the book. The
description, and the deputy’s interrogation of her, however are so well
done, and leave such an aura of
mystery about her that she becomes the leading force through the rest of the
book, even though she never again appears in person. Hakim’s description of Rim trying to express herself
is one of the most beautiful in the book:1
"It
bewildered her sometimes and made her cry. She wanted to know.
To know what?.. not a thing;
She couldn’t express it.
Not everyone can express himself and besides, expression requires a
knowledge of the real feelings hibernating in the depths of the soul.. this
girl, as it seemed to me, possessed a soul like a forest of reeds where no
light reaches the depths except for a tiny bit, as if one could see coins
sparkling in the shadows of the depths every time the reeds separated."
She
is a symbol for all that is beautiful and good in the poor, ignorant peasants
around her. Her case is the one
that the deputy himself is most interested in and all his other cases seem to
get in the way. The story moves
very much in the same manner of the Thousand and One Nights in that
there are forever delaying parenthetical stories. For example, in the story of the Porter and the Three Ladies
at the beginning of the Nights, the reader’s curiosity about the
identity of the three ladies is aroused by the their lascivious and strange
actions with the porter, but is kept in suspense until the three stories in
turn involve new stories within the story. Each of their stories involve new stories within the
story. Similarly, as the deputy
goes through the twelve days recounted in this diary, he pursues Rim’s
case, but is constantly led to other things. He cannot continue the interrogation of Rim on the first
morning because he must be present at court. Pages of the diary are devoted to
the various people who appear in court and the hasty judgments given by the judge. The man who forgot to register his dog
is fined, as is the poor fellah who washed his clothes in the canal, and the
woman who was tricked into marrying her daughter to a man who could not pay the
dowry. In the next chapter, the
deputy does get back to the Rim case, only to be diverted from it again by his
duties as a prosecutor. As the
book ends, the case has slipped through his fingers. Rim has been found strangled in a canal and all clues to the
murder have been lost. Only the
taunting song of Sheikh Asfour remains.
It
has been shown how the day-by-day story proceeds along the course of a
digressive detective story about Rim, but her contribution to the charm and
mood of the novel go beyond her role in the detective story. She becomes an ever-present, erotic
force in the novel. As in all of
Tawfiq al-Hakim’s novels, the power of a woman influences everyone around
her, although the characters themselves do not consider themselves to be
directly under her spell. No one
knows much about Rim except that she is beautiful, and yet, two people are
killed on her account. Her
presence produces a tension like static electricity in the tiny Egyptian
village. The deputy wakes up in
the middle of the night thinking of her (he is slightly jealous that she is
sleeping in the care of the Na’mour and his wife. In the hospital, when he heard the
dying words of Qamar al-Dawla intimating that Rim killed him, he and his
assistant cannot believe their ears.
Later, when Rim runs off with Sheikh Asfour, he cannot understand why
she had done so unless she were the criminal, yet he refuses to believe that
such a beautiful and pure creature could commit crime: “She a criminal? Does such dazzling beauty commit
crime? Or are we criminals for
thinking beauty could do evil. It
is difficult for me to picture beauty except as compared with virtue. True beauty and true virtue are one and
the same.”1 Such reflections about Rim are typical of the
prosecutor throughout his diary.
As he himself says to his assistant at the end of the book, Rim had been
a slightly erotic force like a beautiful moon during all their daily chores, reflecting
a light on everything they did concerning her case.2
The
presence of Rim, felt throughout the highly varied and humorous daily accounts
in the "diary," is comparable to the presence of Sheherazad in the Thousand
and One Nights. She is not
really in any of the stories except the introductory story about how she took
upon herself the challenge of marrying Shahrayar and keeping him distracted so
that he would not kill her. Yet,
throughout the recounting of the Nights, one feels that Sheherazade is
present, skillfully waging her intellectual battle against Shahrayar. One always wonders whether Sheherazade
will keep him sufficiently distracted that he will not kill her in the
morning. In most editions of the Thousand
and One Nights, the stories are separated into "nights" so that
Sheherazade is mentioned in so many words at every interval--as is the case in Yomiyat
Na'ib fil Aryaf, where new bits of the Rim case come to light at intervals
during the other varied scenes of the prosecutor's daily life.
Nevertheless,
the actual references to Sheherazade in the Nights or to Rim in Yomiyat
are not as important as the mere feeling that she is present. The beauty in these two works is that
the exigencies of the Rim and Sheherazade stories do not tie down the structure
of the work to a tight, logical, developed plot as would be necessary in a respectable
Western novel. Instead, the woman,
by hovering in the background, liberates the scope of the work; thus, the Thousand and One Nights
can cover the whole spectrum of medieval life and even soar into the fantastic
world of genies, poets and philosophers.
Similarly, Yomiyat fil Aryaf is free to cover all sorts of
Egyptian rural aspects. It becomes
a kaleidoscope of scenes and people.
satire, humor, and even philosophy are given a free hand without straining
the reader's patience. The
grave-digging scene is typical of the wide range in this novelistic
structure. the purpose of digging
up the grave was to follow up a clue to the mysterious killing of Qamar
al-Dawla's late wife, but the occasion is the excuse for 1) a little talk about the politics when
the autopsy doctor appears, and then a trip to the deserted graveyard where
guards are lounging on the tomb stones, 2) a humorous conversation with the grave digger who can't find
the right grave and proceeds to bring out the wrong corpses, and 3) comments on the symbolic qualities of
the dead felt by an uneducated bystander at the grave digging and a suggestion
that the bystander's terror of the dead may be the very essence of humanity.1 The
scene, because of its dialogue and humorous description, is enhanced by the
little philosophic observations, . . .which are appropriate because the
observations are about symbols.
Symbols bring to mind the symbol of Rim, which had inspired the crazy
trip to the graveyard in the first place.
II. EASTERNISM
IN HAKIM'S OTHER WORKS
As
Tawfiq al-Hakim himself says, the similarity of Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf
to the Thousand and One Nights is partially unintentional. Certainly his tendency to ramble from
scene to scene in the manner of Jahiz and his portrayal of Rim as a kind of
mysterious power over all the story, in the manner of the Thousand and One
Nights came about because Hakim is essentially Arab. His other works reveal the same
heritage, although they are more adulterated by certain useful Western
novelistic techniques such as developed plot, limited characters, etc. Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas(The Holy
bond of Marriage, 1945) and 'Audet al-Ruh(Return of the Spirit, 1933)
are both novels(the novel is a western form, of course), but the Eastern
elements are mixed in them to a great extent. Unfortunately a novel does not tolerate Jahiz-like
digressive essays in its tight structure, and thus these two novels are
weakened whenever the author wanders or elaborates in his Eastern fashion. On the other hand, the technique of the
all-pervading woman is carried off well in the character of Saniya in 'Audet
al-Ruh and the wife in Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas. Perhaps Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas is
his best attempt to combine the novel with his eastern techniques, because the
story and characters are developed enough to hold interest as a novel, and the
enchanting woman is powerful enough to hold the interest through the digressive
essays and indulgences in the author's conservative, anti-feminine opinions.
Any
discussion of the origins of a national literature has to be tenuous, of
course; thus the drawing of
parallels between the Thousand and One Nights and its modern descendants
in the Egyptian novel is dangerous.
Nevertheless, in the case of Hakim, one can draw such parallels with
relative impunity since the author himself seems to have been actively engaged
in thinking out these relationships.
His first novel, 'Audet al-Ruh was a deliberate, almost
heavy-handed attempt to catch the Eastern spirit; and his following works,
plays, novels and short stories were also consciously Arab and often took their
subjects from the ancient Arab works.
Plays
The
most refined evocation of the East was in his plays, which were dramatizations
of famous Arab stories and dealt with the peculiar ways the Arab(Egyptian in
particular) faced his universe.
Hakim had definite views on the particular qualities of the Egyptian(and
Arab) experience. He felt that,
whereas Greek tragedy was concerned with Fate versus Justice, Egyptian tragedy
was Time versus Place. According
to Hakim, Egyptian literature "is the victory of the spirit over Time and
Place: that victory is the
resurrection(ba'th) not to another world without time and place, but to this
same world with its time and place."1
He does not see this philosophy as a consolation because of its emphasis
on afterlife, but instead he views it from its tragic angle: is it worth being reborn to a new time
and place which is the same as this?
And secondly, can man be worthy of being reborn? These are the questions he treats in
his earlier plays. Ahl al-Kahf(The
Men of the Cave, 1933) represents Man's struggle with Time, as the sleepers of
the cave come back to life and find all they had lived for in the past does not
apply to the present. They seek in
vain for a bridge between their souls and their fleeting surroundings. Shahrazad(1934)
is the struggle between man and Place:
King Shahrayar struggles to project his thoughts above sensuous reality
in order to reach a truth which lets him live at peace with the world. Shahrazade herself is at once his ideal
teacher, his teasing temptress, and a woman of carnal desires. Ahl al-Kahf and Shahrazade
are the two most famous of his revivals of the past in his plays, but he wrote
several others.
Reflections on Sheherazade in a work by Hakim and Taha Hussein
Hakim
became preoccupied with the reincarnation of Sheherazade in his
literature. Not only did he write
the play, but also he collaborated with Taha Hussein to write Al Qasr al
Mashour (The enchanted castle, 1936).
This is an imaginary tale of Sheherazade’s return to earth and her
meeting with the two authors at a hotel in the French Alps. She befriends Taha Hussein at first and
does not want to meet Hakim because she claims that he does not understand
her. She had been insulted by his
play about her, Shahrazade. Hakim
had portrayed her as being so vulgar as to “do it” with the black
slave. But she and Hakim make
amends, since Hakim sees her more ethereal nature as well. According to an Italian reviewer, the
combination of Hakim and Taha Hussein was a fortunate one for the book. The imaginative symbolism and humor of
Tawfiq al-Hakim combine with the thought, sentiment and style of Taha Hussein
to create a delightful discussion of time, art and women.1
A
few of Hakim’s short stories have a special eastern flavor, inspired by
old Pharaonic Egypt as “Cleopatra wa Macarthur” (Cleopatra and
MacArthur)1 and “Marakib al-Shams” (The solar
boats).2 “Cleopatra and
MacArthur” is a silly story of Cleopatra coming to life again and
spurring MacArthur on to great victories as she had done for Mark Anthony
before. It is a short, whimsical
version of Al Qasr al- Mashour which also depicts a famous eastern woman
returning to the present.
“Marakib
al Shams” is a pretty story which takes place in ancient Egypt of the
Pharaohs and deals with some of the same themes Hakim dealt with in this plays-
- the conflict of the soul with Time and Place. The story has an endearing lightness and simplicity, so that
the “philosophy” is unapparent. The remainder of Hakim’s short stories are taken from
his country experiences. Some of
his stories, too are semi-religious or moralistic stories.
He
tried his hand at recreating history in one of his novels, too, although only
on a humorous level, not a philosophical one. The novel is Asha’ab.1 In the preface to his novel, Hakim says
his purpose in writing it was to bring to life the world of the ancient Islam
described in the works of al-Jahiz, Khatib al-Baghdadi, Ibn Abd Rabbu, and Sadi
al-Zaman. He wanted to describe
the colorful life of the common people and make the past seem more alive to
contemporary Arabs, he claims that he was trying to mix the fleeting, snapshot
beauty of the Arabs with the more complete beauty of the west in order to get
the best of both.2
The
chief character in the novel is Ash’ab, the stock character of Arab humor
throughout the middle ages in the Middle East. He is well described in Frank Rosenthal’s Ash’ab
article in Encyclopedia of Islam (new edition). Ash’ab was a real and legendary person who flourished
as a professional entertainer in the Omayyad period and was famous for his
jokes about politics, religion and middle class life. One of the most famous stories about Ash’ab,
“the greedy,” tells about how he tries to get rid of some children
who are annoying him by telling them that free gifts are being distributed in a
different part of the city. They
all run off and leave him standing alone until his own subtle intelligence
outwits him and he runs after them to get some gifts himself.1 Tawfiq Al-Hakim’s Ash’ab is
much the same. He is constantly on
the move tricking people into giving him dinner and sometimes he is tricked by
others. He meets a friend who is
as crafty as he and the two of them decide to go to Medina and make their
fortunes on the pilgrim trade.
They set up a bar to entertain the pilgrims right outside the holy city
and are quite successful until the authorities expel them and they must go back
to their meager existence. The
humor of the novel is corny, lacking subtlety.
In
line with Hakim’s sensitive awareness of his ancient heritage, his most
recent novel, Banq al-Qalaq (Bank of Worry, 1966) can be viewed as a
further development of the Abbassid-Omayyad Ash’ab story. Here the rambling, crazy feeling of his
Ash’ab is transposed into a creative, fantastical humor in a story
which takes place in the modern age.
In Banq al-Qalaq, two men without enough money to buy food, like
Ash’ab and his companion, are in search of new ways to make money. Adham, the more imaginative of the two,
devises the supra-modern idea of founding a “Bank of worry” where
they would lend and borrow worries at interest and make a slight profit from
the banking operations. They
barely stay alive for the next few days waiting for the customers who never
come. With difficulty they
convince their landlord not to bother them for the rent until their bank is
running. A few days later, a rich
landed man hears about them and is so enamored of their idea that he sets them
up in a big office in the center of Cairo. All expenses paid.
People from all walks of life come to the bank to tell them their
troubles. In a crazy sort of way,
all seems well for Adham and his friend Sha’ban but suddenly, like
Ash’ab in the medieval anecdote, they discover that they had been too
smart for their own good. The
whole bank idea collapses in near catastrophe for them when they discover that
they were unknowingly involved in a conspiracy to tap political malcontents
through the tapes of “the grumblers” dialogues recorded in the
bank. In a neat and terrifying
way, reminiscent of the modern ironic pessimists like Gide, Ionesco and Camus,
Tawfiq al-Hakim has modernized the Ash’ab figures. He changes them from bumbling wits into
a happy-go-lucky Adham and Sha’ban, who suddenly discover that their cute
little idea goes far deeper than they thought. Although they never realized it, their bank of worry had
only been dabbling at the surface of worry and terror: the inner tragedy of Fatima, revealed
to the reader only, is so harsh and real that it casts a shadow of ludicrous
meaning to the rest of the story, making all the bantering dialogues that had
proceeded seem hollow.1
There
are no references to Ash’ab or any ancient traditions in Bank al Qalaq,
just as there are no references to Sheherazade in Yomiyat Na’ib fil
Aryaf, but a certain ordering and the method of characterization remind the
reader of the older story. In Bank
al-Qalaq, Hakim dealt with characters he knew—he himself had attended
Law College like Adham and Sha’ban.
They are typical of any poor, but happy Egyptian dreamers, modern
descendants of Ash’ab. There
are many comparisons between Adham and the medieval Ash’ab. Both Ash’ab and Adham began their
operations in a bar (the first scene of Bank al-Qalaq is in a cabaret),
although Adham is not a professional entertainer as Ash’ab was. Both Ash’ab and Adham are
vagabonds who wander in search of amusement and profit, using their creative
imagination for their livelihood.
Both are too smart for themselves—Adham failed his law examination
because he felt the exam was an imaginary hoax and totally irrelevant: he only
saw a picture of a donkey on the examination paper. With Hakim, the old, typically Arab character leaps into the
modern world of banking socialism, capitalism and general tension—which
is Qalaq in Arabic.1 Bank
al Qalaq is somewhat like his new play recently translated into English, The
Tree Climber where he has taken old songs, a bit of country life along the
railroad, and some Sufi veneration for the abstruse and woven them all into a
dialogue of modern confusion.2
CHAPTER III
HAKIM'S PATRIOTIC CONCERNS
Although
Hakim is recognized now primarily as an artist, his writings always show a
sensitive concern for his county and the development of its literature.
1. AUDET AL-RUH: A PATRIOTIC NOVEL
His
first novel, 'Audet al-Ruh(Return of the Spirit) was essentially a
patriotic novel, written so convincingly that it apparently was one of
President Nasser's greatest inspirations to leadership in Egypt's Revolution of
1952.1 Although many of
the present generation regard Hakim's type of patriotism as sufistic and
unrealistic, no one denies that he was concerned, at least from an artistic
standpoint. 2
Hakim was writing at a
period when Egypt was not preoccupied with Pan-Arabism as it has been
recently. Egypt was for the
Egyptians. Taha Hussein’s
famous essay on Egypt and the west, pointing out that Egypt had been oriented
toward the west more than the east since Pharaonic days, was typical of
Egypt’s outlook.1
Hussein, along with other writers, including Tawfiq al-Hakim, looked
back to Egypt’s days of glory under the pharaohs rather than those under
Islam. One can see this feeling in
Audet al-Ruh in the way Hakim uses a quotation from the Book of the Dead
about the resurrection of Osiris as a theme for modern of Egypt. Far from being pan-Arab, the book is so
pro-Egyptian that considerable time is spent reviling the Arab marsh Bedouins
who cut such mean figures beside the Egyptian Fellahin. However, Nevill Barbour, writing in
1935 soon after the publication of the book, notes with keen perceptiveness
that these miserable marsh Arabs were not regarded the same as the Arabs of the
Arabian peninsula, and that actually Audet al-Ruh has the seeds of a
less exclusively Egyptian nationalism.2 The
neatly contrived dialogue which Muhsin heard on the train was indicative of the
times: Islam, concludes an
enlightened passenger, is not a religion but a culture and way of life.
Indeed, the power of Audet
al-Ruh is not in any brash assertion of Egyptian patriotism, derived from
Pharaonic Egypt, but rather in its sensitive searchings for a national myth.1
Viewing the novel as a search for a national myth, one can appreciate its
artistic, as well as its forensic qualities.2 To view the novel as autobiographical,
or to criticize it too harshly on the grounds that it is not good artistically,
is to miss the whole “raison d’être” of the novel, and
the period from which it came.
Hakim’s Audet
al-Ruh (Return of the Spirit) and Al-Raghif (The Bread) by the
Lebanese writer Tawfiq Y. Awad were both written about the same time and are
the two best patriotic novels of the Middle East.3
They are both popular because they came
at a time when people were looking for national myths. But they are very different types of
books. The Bread is an
exciting, sometimes sentimental story about the Lebanese resistance to the severe
Ottoman rule during the First World War when the authorities reduced the
inhabitants of Syria and Lebanon to a state of Beirut on May 6, 1916. In fact, it is the story which is on
the lips of most Lebanese today if asked what they think of the Turks. A historian like Zeine N. Zeine may
well point out that the Turks had not been exceedingly oppressive during their
four centuries of rule in Syria, but he cannot efface the memory of that
horrible May Sixth; and even he
admits that it was this action of Djemal Pasha which finally decided the Muslim
leaders to turn against Turkey even though she represented the rightful
caliphate. Tawfiq Y. Awad’s
novel appeared twenty-three years after the event, after Lebanon had indeed
achieved independence from the Turks and was gingerly enjoying the first fruits
of semi-autonomous government under the French Mandate. Awad merely dramatized a bit of the
past which every Lebanese felt to be part of himself. The myth had already been created.
Tawfiq al-Hakim, on the
other hand, though he felt compelled to write about a national myth, could not
turn to an adventure story of Egyptian resistance, as Awad had done because the
resistance in Egypt was not yet a success story. There had been the Arabi revolt in 1881 , but that had
dissolved after being defeated by the British. The peasants had caught brief glimpses of better days under
the British administration, only to be oppressed by conscription during the
First World War. Saad Zaghloul had
been their champion in the 1919 revolt, but since then, the revolt had merely
smoldered as the Wafdists tried to bargain with the British. In 1933, when the novel was published,
Britain was still manipulating the Egyptian parliament so that no united
political feeling came to the front.
There was considerable anti-British feeling and a feeling of Egypt for
the Egyptians, of course, but it is to Hakim’s credit that his novel does
not dwell on these aspects. He
attempted to do something much more difficult than lambaste the British: he attempted to define the vague
impulse for a new Egypt as felt in the innocent eyes of a sixteen-year-old boy
and all the people around him during the months preceding the Saad Zaghlul
revolution in 1919. Unlike Awad,
who could look back on generations of Lebanese traditionally defending their
mountain from the Turks, Hakim faced the task of actually creating a myth and a
tradition. He could not turn
directly to the pride of old Pharaonic Egypt. The Pharonic ages had been almost forgotten. Hakim nevertheless tried to infuse the
contemporary scene with some of the old spirit which had brought Egypt’s
glory. The novel is touched by
symbolism from the old Egyptian myth of Osiris, who was king of Egypt, killed,
dismembered and then put back together again and revived. The reader is meant to associate the
Saad Zaghlul figure in Audet al-Ruh with Osiris.
On the surface,
the narrative has no relation to Egyptian patriotism, except that at the end of
the book, the protagonist joins the Saad Zaghlul revolution. While living with his uncles in Cairo,
the boy, Muhsin, falls in love with Saniya, the doctor's daughter living next
door. The novel recounts his schoolboy romance and his jealousy of his two
older uncles who also love Saniya.
The close family life at his uncles’ goes stale as each person
becomes jealous and suspicious of the other, None of that has actually caught the girl’s affection,
however, for she has then fallen in love with a rich young man whom she
marries. Muhsin and the two uncles
are at first deeply hurt when they learn that she does not like any of them,
but they gradually forget their rivalries and come together, realizing that
Saniya is happy with the other man.
When the revolution comes, they are all together, and fired with enthusiasm
for their cause.
The
novel delicately creates the girl, Saniya, into a symbol. Everything about her is charmingly
Egyptian; her diction, her
coquetry, her dark hair and her flashing black eyes. She is like Isis, who, with her brother Horus brought Osiris
back to life again. Her spirit
brings the little jealous family of Muhsin and his uncles back together when
they finally realize what she means.
Previously, they had loved her in the wrong way, selfishly; but gradually they learn to share their
feelings and come together.
In
‘Audat al-Ruh, Hakim has caught the particular character of
Egyptian patriotism. It is not a
big brassy patriotism, nor is it carefully calculated and proudly
cherished. Rather, it is natural,
something that had been in the people all the time waiting to return. It is human—-as human as Muhsin
and his two uncles who become such close friends after being so separate from
each other in their jealousies.
The
novel goes to great pains to show that the important part of Egypt is the
feeling of oneness with every common Egyptian. In the family of uncles, for example, even the servant
Mabrouk is part of the family.
They call him “sha’b” (people) affectionately and he
participates in all family matters.
They all sleep together in the same room, and eat the same daily fare of
beans.
A
great deal is said about the fellahin, their wholesomeness and their sad
plight. Muhsin watches them when
he returns to the country for vacation.
Sometimes Hakim dwells too long on theorizing about the fellahin, even
though they are an essential part of the Egyptian myth. Other Egyptian writers were beginning
to write about the fellahin at this time.
Abu-Nazzara (Father of the spectacles) in his paper had been publishing
attacks on the government and the social conditions of the fellahin since 1877.1 The first Egyptian novel, Zeinab
(1914) by Mohammad Husayn Haykal, while ignoring the sufferings of the
fellahin, did much to romanticize them and make them into a new folk hero for
the Egyptians. Tawfiq Al-Hakim
added to the thought of the time by suggesting that these fellahin showed the really
great power of Egypt in their closeness to each other and to nature. Even if his point is forced, there is a
certain amount of truth in it. Abd
Al-Nasser’s revolution tries to uphold this common group spirit such that
today, Egyptian society is strikingly uniform and close. Popular opinion minimizes the gaps
between classes, and the simple gallabiyya of the fellahin is a national
costume even in the cities. There
is a feeling of pride in being a part of everybody and to have a bit of the
crude, natural fellah in one’s blood. The popular movies and plays often show the rich man in an unhappy state until he works and identifies with the
people. President Nasser’s
manner of addressing his people as “aiyuha al-sha'b” (oh,
you common people) is a standing joke in Lebanon and other Arab countries, but
is nevertheless appropriate in Egypt where the spirit of community, first put
into writing by Tawfiq al-Hakim, is strong.
‘Audet
al-Ruh’ is not just patriotic fervor, however. If it were it would be quite
boring. It attempts to be more
searching. Its characters
encompass many aspects of Egyptian society from varied social and historical
backgrounds. Saniya’s father
is fairly well to do, but not rich.
He had served with the British on the Sudan campaigns as a doctor and is
pro-British because he had spent the most interesting years of his life with
them. The man whom Saniya marries
is the lazy heir to a large industry.
Abduh, Muhsin’s oldest uncle is a teacher, another is a soldier
and the third an engineering student.
All the people are part of Egypt even if some of them do not fit into
the common Egyptian myth which sees every Egyptian as a poor farmer.
Muhsin’s
background is especially complex and revealing. His character obviously reflects that of Hakim himself as a
child. His mother was Turkish, and
his father Egyptian; little Muhsin was somewhat torn in between. Naturally, he loved his mother but her
arrogance and disdain for the fellahin hurt him because he had developed
sympathies with the common people during his stays with his uncles in Cairo
where he went to school. His
mother was the product of the Turkish ruling class and is enamored of the
British. She knew how to impress
them so as to derive the benefits of their favor. Doubtless she was typical of the type of proud Turkish
ruling class on whom the British relied for political support before the
protectorate was officially proclaimed in 1922. Muhsin’s father was Egyptian and owned a large estate. Unfortunately, he was more interested
in imitating the silk-shirted vanities of his wife than in being a real
Egyptian. He was as subservient as
the fellahin were to his wife.
Muhsin’s
childhood was at once happy and sad.
When he was very small, he enjoyed the company of a group of women
musicians with whom he often went to parties and helped with their
instruments. Afterwards they would
tell each other long stories, romances, and popular legends. The music and songs made a strong
impression on the boy. Such music
groups were quite popular among great numbers of Egyptians before 1914 when
most people were excluded from politics unless they were associated with the
Turkish ruling class.1 Social
leaders would vie for the honor of paying the high prices to attract these groups
to their houses, and treated them with great respect, as is shown in the
novel. It is not mere chance that
has made Egypt the leader in Arab entertainment arts and culture today. The Egyptians seemed to have developed
a taste for such things before others, perhaps because of Khedive Isma'il's
encouragement and lavish financing of the arts. Arab theater began in Egypt and is still more popular there
than in other Middle Eastern capitals.
For the young Muhsin in Audet al-Ruh, the popular entertainment was
a great joy and one of the things typically Egyptian which he cherished.
He
entered school life with his mind full of the happy exuberance of the
entertainment arts for which Egypt is famous, but he often met
disappointment. He lost friends in
school because he was richer than they, but he tried to say equal with
them. He fell in love with Saniya
and then realized sadly that she was not even noticing him. He tried to lose himself in love of his
country by joining the revolution.
But at the end of the book, he is in prison with his uncles: the revolution had failed and was
suppressed. All had been washed
away but the spirit was still with him and growing stronger since he knew that
many others were suffering the same setbacks. As Muhsin and his uncles lie in their beds one next to the
other in prison, there is happiness because they are together. The spirit of togetherness is really
the essential ingredient of any patriotism. It is the spirit of the Egyptian myth, shorn of all the
trappings of Pharonic gods, the eulogies of the fellahin, and the angry
panegyrics against colonialism.
Artistically,
there was a serious flaw in Audet al-Ruh since it was sometimes imbued
with the tone of the prevailing essayist and social critic literature of the
day. At times it was obvious that
the characters were simply thinking what the author wanted them to think and
saying things that the author could have said better in a separate essay. This was especially true of the second
part of the novel, when Muhsin goes to the country and realizes , with
considerable prodding from the author, that the fellah is the heart of
Egypt. As H.A.R Gibb pointed out, Hakim was one of the
first to attempt the presentation of social criticism through the medium of the
novel, rather than the essay.1
Perhaps, in view of the innovation represented in Audet al-Ruh,
Hakim can be forgiven for his didactic tone since it is a relic of the
prevailing essay style of his times.
It
must be remembered, too that Audet al-Ruh comes from the French
tradition of novel writing, which, unlike the English or American tradition,
tolerates the novel of ideas. Many
of the novelists held in highest esteem in France have emphasized particular
grievances or ideas rather than pure art, in which the ideas are introduced
indirectly. Such writers are
Voltaire and Emile Zola. It is not
considered bad form in France for the protagonist to do a considerable amount
of thinking which is not directly related to the action. The difference between France and
America is well illustrated by comparing Ernest Hemingway and Andre
Malraux. Both were hot-blooded
adventurers and wrote about their adventures in war and in various
revolutionary movements. Hemingway’s
novels, though they convey thoughts, are harsh and realistic, without
unnecessary discussions. While
Malraux’s novels sometimes become so deeply involved in the
characters’ thoughts that the action becomes secondary. Hakim’s Usfour min al-sharq
(Bird from the East) is very much in the French tradition. In fact its subject –the
comparison of the East and West through the eyes of a young easterner—is
precisely the same as the subject of Malraux’s Tentation de
l’Occident. Both novels
derive their excitement from the development of a thought rather than the
development of action.
Malraux’s novel is, in fact, completely divorced from action,
since it consists only of a correspondence between A.S. and Ling. Usfour min al-Sharq does have
some salient events, although these might not be considered as action. The real importance of Usfour min
al-Sharq is Muhsin’s dialogue with the Parisians, Suzie, Andre, and
Ivanovich. Many Arabs have
identified with Muhsin and his struggle to come to grips with the west and face
his own culture squarely. Hakim
was dealing with a problem of identity, which the Middle East was and still is
in the process of debating. From
this point of view, Usfour min al-Sharq is a much more topical and
“engage” novel than Tentation de l’Occident.2 The latter, while not being totally
irrelevant to its western audience, is essentially an aesthetic experience,
somewhat like visiting a museum of
Eastern art. It is a beautiful,
thought-provoking and mysteriously vague glimpse of a different way of life.
Since
Usfour min al-Sharq is almost all theory and cultural ideas, its social
relevance is debatable. Hakim has
been criticized for being form aloof from social problems, but much of this
criticism was unjustified.
II. HAKIM’S CONCERN
WITH SOCIAL PROBLEMS
Yahia Haqqi has
criticized Hakim’s idealistic and mystical writings like the play Ahl
al-Kahf and the patriotic allegory, Audet al-Ruh. He said that mysticism and symbolism
were of no use to Egypt.1 However, he did like Yomiyyat
Na'ib fil Aryaf, since it was, in his opinion, a good social
criticism. In this jovial and
rambling book about the country, Hakim criticized the low level of education
and misapplication of justice in the country--two areas that badly needed
reforming. He filled the book with
people of all kinds, all of whom he mocks in a sympathetic way, but his
conclusion is to the point:
"In passing out judgment after due process of this modern law, some
consideration should be made for the limited extent of these poor people's
understanding, or else the people's understanding should be raised to the level
of that modern law."2 Hakim touched on many aspects of country life--the
preoccupation of the government officials with politics, the false pride of the
peasants, the trickery and deceit of the so-called religious leaders, and the
inability of the overworked officials to cope with the daily crimes, feuds and
complaints.
Throughout Yomiyat,
Hakim keeps a slightly condescending tone which never falls into the
self-righteously indignant tone of the social reformer. It is a pleasure to read al-Hakim since
he is at once deeply involved with the people around him, yet at the same time
he looks at them from a slightly aristocratic viewpoint, which comes naturally
to him. Thus al-Hakim, as narrator
of the "Diary," goes about his work conscientiously, yet at the same
time he sympathizes with his young assistant who longs for the life of the
capital. Among his colleagues, the
narrator keeps a spirit of friendly railing. Thus, when he goes to check up on the police chief to make sure
he is not perpetrating illegal arrests to suit his political party, he feigns
innocent complicity, and asks his questions calculated to leave room for his
friend to maneuver in.
In the past
decade of Egyptian criticism, Hakim was often accused of being beaurocratic and
thus bourgeois because of his aloof attitude, but now most critics overlook
such charges and appreciate Hakim's work for its human value.1 " He looks at people from their
spiritual side and raises them above material things," says one of the
foremost experts on Hakim, who did much to exonerate him from charges that he
had been aloof during the Nasser revolution(when he was working for Al-Ahram.)2 Now,
Tawfiq al-Hakim is thoroughly restored to a place of respect and even
veneration in public opinion.
He and Yahya
Haqqi were among the first great writers who were not in a political party,
thus breaking a tradition the great Egyptian writers before them who had
participated in politics.
Al-Mazini, Taha Hussein, 'Aqqad and Hussein Heykal had all been with
political parties.3 Hakim is commonly known as Egypt’s
intellectual par excellence, living in his ivory tower and writing
essays on art. He has indeed
written many essays on art, as well as on philosophy, religion, and modern
man. But he has also written on
politics, from a philosophical level, though not on a partisan level. His novels show a concern for his
country, if not for politics as such.
His most recent novel, Banq al-Qalaq deals with the politics of
Nasser’s socialism but only on a humanistic level. Hakim is interested in the general
terror of modern life, not politics in particular. More directly concerned with his country was an essay he
wrote in 1939 which led to the creation of a ministry of social affairs; he
also wrote essays advocating better education in the country.
III. HAKIM AS NATIONAL
WRITER OF EGYPT
All things considered,
probably Audet al-Ruh did more to establish Hakim’s reputation in
his country than any of his other writings. President Nasser has said that it was his inspiration during
the revolution of 1952. In
recognition of the national author, President Nasser’s government has
placed him in positions of considerable importance: he has been director of the National Library of
Education. Thus Al-Hakim is in
that class of novelists who have become arbiters of their country. Victor Hugo (d. 1885) in France enjoyed
such a reputation, although his influence was against the government; the point is that both men were felt to
speak for the spirit of their countries.
At the present time, Hakim’s influence as arbiter in his country
is centered around the literary field.
He also has a national reputation for being a proponent of Egyptian
anti-feminism.
First and foremost, he is
involved with the Egyptian theater.
Because of his influence, he has played an important role in developing
a semi-colloquial written language. In the introduction of his play on
contemporary society, al-safqa(The Deal), which he envisioned as a play
that could be performed in the small villages of Egypt, he explains his use of
a so-called “Third language”.
It is a language that could be read grammatically and yet pronounced by
porters. The critics protest his
innovations, saying that language should evolve naturally and that this
“third language” is a literary skeleton lacking the word associations
of an evolved language. But given
Hakim’s influence and popularity (one of the most popular theaters in
Cairo is named after him—a unique tribute for any living playwright, it
is probable that his third language will meet with success. Certainly, his introduction of
colloquial into the dialogues of his novels has set a lasting precedent,
although at the outset, he was criticized so fiercely for the colloquial
dialogues in ‘Audet al-Ruh’ that he had to withdraw it from
publication for a time.
In
all of Hakim’s novels, his style is simple and straightforward. It is a reflection of his feelings
about the proper language for the theater. He has sacrificed artistic flourish and idiosyncrasy to his
beliefs in the importance of developing a third language that all writers can
use to express their thoughts lucidly.
He
writes concisely and does not elaborate, or produce a mood through words, as
Taha Hussein does. In describing
emotions he is blunt and does not attempt to differentiate between shades of
meaning by using adjectives. His
most powerful scenes derive their
force not from the words used, but
from the associations of ideas, or, more frequently, from the emotional tension
suggested by the dialogue.
Chapter
Seventeen of Audet al-Ruh
is a good example of Hakim’s simple style even when dealing with a very
emotional scene. Muhsin has
finally confessed to Saniya that he had been in love with her and Saniya,
though she feels like a mother before this little boy, comforts him. When she realizes why he is pouting she
kisses him, in sympathy. Even
coming across this scene completely out of context, one can see how the
author’s matter of fact treatment has a good effect on an almost overly
sentimental scene.1
The
most charming aspect of this passage is the actual passage of Saniya's speech,
which is typically girlish with its tripping abbreviations like () and the endearing (), "shame on you!" which is Saniya's
special word throughout the book.
Dialogue is Hakim's specialty, of course, but in this passage, his blunt
choppy style outside of the dialogue also contributes to the effect. The kiss is evoked realistically
in a few words and then left while the author turns to Saniya's crying "on
account of (emotion)." The emotion is sketched quickly but not elaborated. One does not even know what kind of he
means: sympathetic? sexual? surprise? Hakim
merely leaves the idea for the reader, and then moves on to describe the quick
succession of ideas tumbling from the distraught Muhsin. Hakim's words are simple: not only can Saniya cry from but
also she can listen with .
Hearts always "tremble," or "understand." He prefers basic words to any more
subtle variants.
The
early critics accepted his simple usage of the classical, but they were
concerned over his use of the colloquial even in dialogues. But now Hakim's method of using the
colloquial for dialogues or special meanings is not only accepted, but imitated
as well. Like 'Audet al-Ruh,
Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf is full of dialogues in colloquial, and often a
colloquial idiom will be used in the text to give a better meaning. For example, the doctors doing the
autopsy "squish about" with their fingers in the brain tissue:1
The colloquial word, though used
out of context, describes the action much better than a classical Arabic
fabrication could have done.
Hakim's descriptions are not long, but by using the colloquial for
certain objects, he is able to evoke scenes realistically.
Reference
has been made to Hakim's delicate characterization of Saniya through her
speech. In Yomiyat Hakim
has created a whole spectrum of characters who are characterized through their
speech. The village omdeh,
protesting his election to be a member of Parliament actually sounds
stupid from the way he puts his sentences together:1
The Ma'mour's reply, in contrast,
is official and supercilious, as he tells him to leave:
There are numerous other
examples, ranging from the cursive legal vocabulary of the judge, to the
taunting of Sheikh Asfour, who speaks only in song.
Bank
al-Qalaq has no colloquial dialogue.
It is the best example of his development of a third language in
novelistic form. His characters
lack the colorful impact of the characters of Yomiyat or of Saniya in Audet
al-Ruh, but they are operating on a higher level, and it would be a mistake
to have such tragic and dualistic figures as Fatimah speak in a localized
accent. The language of the
dialogues is not beautiful, but is lucid, often reminding the reader of a
well-known colloquial expression:1
In this case, the enters
the "third language" from the colloquial expression meaning "so
what? who cares." By putting it in the dialogue, Hakim
adds a touch of flimsiness to Mirfat's attitude toward life.
Hakim's Reputation as a Woman-Hater
In
Egypt, Hakim's innovations in writing style, colloquial dialogues, and art in
general are less commonly known than his stance against women. He frequently appears in the society
columns of the Ahram whenever some feminist wants to voice her opinions
against conservatism and the man's world.
All the pretty feminine journalists interview him and try to change his
opinion, all to no avail. He seems
to feel that his prime duty as an Egyptian is to put a check on The Egyptian
Woman's emancipation. His
anti-feminine novel, Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas, written in 1945 has given him
a national reputation. His ideas
against women have mellowed since then.
He usually explains that he doesn't hate women; he just thinks they are dangerous,
especially when they are pretty.
The roots of Hakim's anti-feminism lie in this personal life, but they
are also inherent in the prevailing male orientation of Arab society. Nevertheless it is hard to understand
why this thoughtful man, who would never write without reason, should write a
book like al-Ribat al-Muqaddas, which only reinforces old bigoted
beliefs. Is there something more
important he is trying to say? Is
he trying to warn his people, through exaggeration, that Egyptian women are
evolving too quickly; becoming
Western in their dress and lipstick, but not really overcoming their basic
instincts?1
Perhaps such is his purpose, for his woman in Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas
has touches of brilliance in spite of her evils. She is delightfully alive and open to the world, but her
openness interferes with her duties as a wife.
Hakim
constructed Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas as a confrontation between a thinking
man and a passionate woman. The
contrast brings out the author's views on subjects other than
anti-feminism. Like all of Hakim's
novels, it goes beyond its avowed subject(anti-feminism, or country life in Yomiyat,
or patriotism in 'Audet al-Ruh).
These deeper concerns are the subject of the next and final essay.
CHAPTER 1V
HAKIM'S VIEW OF LIFE
It
is not easy to sum up the basic themes of an author who has written as much as
Tawfiq al-Hikim. Just what are his
driving forces? To a certain
extent he is concerned with the artistic re-incarnation of the spirit of the
Arab east. He is driven by a certain
patriotic sense of duty. But
underneath all his works is a feeling of tension, a trembling between the real
world and the world of thought.
These tensions are brought out in all his works through the use of
dialogues and symbolism.
Taha
Badr and Isma'il Adham have pointed out how Hakim's childhood influenced his
outlook. He was often alone with
only his thoughts to keep him company.
As he grew older, he set his ambitions on becoming a playwright. His autobiography, Zahrat al-'Amr
shows how he put all his efforts into writing and was continually afraid of
failing during his formative years in Paris. If he failed, he would have to go back to the routine life
of a lawyer or a government official.
Thus he was always trembling between his art and ideals on the one hand,
and the hard realities of life on the other. Something of his nature can be seen in his novel about
Paris, 'Usfour min al-Sharq(Bird from the East). Like Muhsin, he must have been the type
who could be sublimely in love but sad at discovering love's monotony and
deception.
His
early novels and plays dealt with the conflict between spiritual and material
things. 'Audet al-Ruh has
been discussed as a patriotic novel, but it also touches upon the human problem
of matching one's dreams with daily life.
The difficulty of achieving this match is paralleled in the rise and
fall of expectation, as Saniya first charms all who meet her including the
reader, and then reverses herself and declines in the reader's estimation when
she falls in love with the indolent rich man, leaving the young protagonist in
his misery. She had been built
into a symbol of beauty and all that is good in Egypt, only to reverse her
nature and spurn little Muhsin, who had loved her so innocently. Muhsin and his cousins are left feeling
empty after she leaves, but they overcome their sadness and transfer their
feeling of devotion from Saniy to Egypt.
As Yahya Haqqi has pointed out, this last transferal of devotion is contrived
and artificial, but, nevertheless, it is typical. Men always attempt to substitute a spiritual meaning for
reality. Perhaps the artistic
failure of 'Audet al-Ruh is that symbolism is too close to the actual
events of the narrative. Hakim's
next novel, Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf was more of a success artistically
since the symbolism of Rim does not enter directly into the story. Like Saniya, Rim is the symbol of
higher beauty, but she enters the story only during tiny moments when one sees
flashing coins beneath swaying reeds, as the author described her first
appearance. She is an inspiration
for all those caught in the monotony of life with crime. When she dies at the end, the narrator
and those about him are left with a hollow feeling.
The
heroes of Hakim's novels are often projections of himself. They are constantly disillusioned: they are romantics who view the
realities of life with a kind of sadness, just as Muhsin regrets his love
affair with Suzy when he finds how easy it was to win her('Usfour min
al-Sharq). His characters are
always trying to bridge the gap between reality and the spiritual. Both Muhsin's in Audet al-Ruh
and 'Usfour min al-Sharq put all their hope in Sayyida Zeinab, the
virgin protectress, whose mosque is at the center of Old Cairo. Hakim and Haqqi were the first of the
modern writers to talk about the special Sufi significance of Sayyida Zeinab in
their characters.1
For people who spent their childhood under her influence, she seems to
be the last hope. In 'Audet
al-Ruh the author describes the charm of the "pure lady" in
Muhsin when he needs consolation for his lost love. He enters the Sayyida Zeinab mosque repeating her name, in a
kind of soothing ritual. 'Usfour
min al-Sharq, appropriately, is dedicated to her. Similarly, Isma'il in The Candle of Um Hashim by Y.
Haqqi, goes to England and then comes back to the Lady after a conversion.2 There is a similar feeling for
the patron saints of Cairene quarters in the modern novels of Najib Mahfouz.
Even
with the help of Sayyida Zeinab, however, Hakim's heroes rarely bridge the gap
between their ideals and reality.
They neither reach complete absorption in the mystical, nor do they give
themselves completely to life. His
plays are an exception since the supernatural is more attainable in the
theater. Everyone in his novels is
caught in between, in kind of indecision, and sometimes agony. the Arabic word used to describe the
feeling is qalaq.
Al-Ribat
al-Muqaddas can be regarded as the transition between the semi-romantic
tension of Hakim's early novels and the total feeling of worry and insecurity
of Bank al-Qalaq, his latest novel.
I. AL-RIBAT AL-MUQADDAS
Al-Ribat
al-Muqaddas deals with the tension of human relations, especially the
relations of spiritual love and physical passion, or thought and material
delights. Dialogue, Hakim's
special talent, plays a large role in this novel, when the man of thought and
the woman of instinct wage an intellectual battle of wits. The man of thought is a writer, who
lives in an "ivory tower," like Hakim himself. He feels a special attraction for this
woman, who came to him ostensibly to seek his advice on how she can learn to
appreciate books. She claims that
she and her fiance are deeply in love but that she feels she can never receive
all his love unless she can learn to share his interests in reading. The problem is that she cannot stand
looking at books, even for a few seconds;
but she hopes that writer will teach her how to love them. The writer takes up the challenge after
some hesitation, since this woman is so completely his opposite. After a few lessons in reading, the
girl's husband comes to visit him(for indeed the girl was married and had told
the scholar a lie about her fiance).
He tells him that his wife, who had never touched books before was now
avidly devouring all the books written by the writer. The husband wishes to compliment him. The scholar is gracious, but does not
tell the husband of his wife's visits to him. He scolds her for deceiving him when next he meets her, and
tells her not to come back again.
Sorry to lose an interesting teacher, she leaves and does not return. As the months pass, he develops a
longing for her in spite of himself and begins writing imaginary letters to
her, praising her virtues and
comparing her to the wives of the Prophet and other virtuous wives in
history. Later he meets the
husband and is shocked to learn that the wife has been committing adultery with
another man. She has written a
long, dramatic confession and glorification of her love, which the husband has
found in her bedroom. The husband
wants the scholar to undertake the mission of procuring her legal signature for
a divorce since he himself is too deeply wounded by her infidelity to face her
himself. The scholar undertakes
his mission without enthusiasm since he, too, finds it difficult to face this
woman who had turned out to be so different from his expectations. The encounters between the wife and the
scholar are delightful throughout the book, but these later dialogues are
especially good. The conservative
scholar does his best to explain to the woman how important the domestic
virtues are and she parries in turn with her convictions on the importance of
living and loving. The climax of
the book, which the book had been working up to from the outset, comes after
the wife has accepted the divorce and begins trying to seduce the scholar. The scholar, on his part, is tempted,
but his convictions that a woman is beautiful only if she is morally good
prevail over her physical attractions--thanks to a telephone call which
interrupts their conversation at the point where he was about to succumb. The telephone call was from the husband
telling him that his brother had committed suicide because of his wife's
presumed adultery. God bring a curse
upon all women!
In
summary the story seems deceptively naive, but Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas is
well written and exciting. The
dialogues are among al-Hakim's most dramatic presentations of the tensions
which he felt were at the root of all human encounters. In none of Hakim's other books is the
contrast between the world of thought and the world of material things so apparent as it is in this book. The contrast between the letters of
virtue which the scholar writes to the woman and her own confessions of her
passionate love affair with the movie actor is all the more forceful because
the woman's writing is so realistic.
It is in the style of an angry woman who wants to break away and
live--the Leila Ba'albeki style before Leila Ba'albeki was writing. Although it was Hakim's intention to
paint the woman in a bad light, his propensity for dramatic dialogues lets the
woman appear startlingly realistic and brilliantly witty. The hero of the book, the scholar,
seems pale beside her at times, although his parries and repartees are
skillful too.
The
dialogue in the final chapter, where words are sometimes spoken aloud, and
sometimes only thought, is one of the most exciting encounters between thought
and matter which Hakim ever wrote.
Some of the speed and urgency in the dialogue can be seen in the following
passage, which touches on serious matters. They are discussing the case of Anatole France's character,
the monk Paphnous, who left his hermitage in order to reform a notorious
Alexandrine courtesan, but in doing so could not overcome his own attraction to
her and thereby lost his salvation.
The woman, pointing out that even a monk could love a woman, says,
"But the monk Paphnous didn't love the saint in her; he loved the woman."
To
which the misogynist scholar replies, "Yes he did, unfortunately. .
."
"But
no man loves a woman for anything but the woman in her."
"Yes,
but that man brought eternal damnation on himself and lost his chance of
reaching the heaven he had dedicated his whole life to. . .Every man has his
particular heaven."
"I
see you take all this glorification of being a monk pretty seriously. . ."
"Isn't
it the best thing?"
"No!"
she said defiantly.
He
only shrugged his shoulders and said, "What else could one like you be
expected to say?"
"You
should expect one like me to give you a bit of advice, and tell you the way
things really are. Every man who
refuses love--when it comes--is completely deluded. . .The age of the blessed
saints has passed. . .Come away with me now and enter the new society, so that
you'll know in what age you live!. . .It astounds me that an intelligent man
like you still lives with the ghosts of thoughts dead long ago, and with the
superstitions of the old books!. . ."
"I
live with the thing that remains forever. . .Thought never dies."
She
laughed and said, "On the contrary, nothing dies as fast as thought. Every generation has its thoughts just
as every period has its particular clothes. . .Thoughts are the leaves of a
tree which fall every autumn.
Where are the thoughts that were alive a thousand years ago? But as for the kiss, it remains a kiss
and does not lose its heat over a thousand years, since the very creation of
man! . . .And love's embrace
remains and still engenders the same feelings in the mind and body as it did at
the Beginning of thought itself."
"You
compare books and thoughts to kisses and embraces?. . .What a pretty
comparison!"
She
smiled seductively and said, "Did you think the comparison
appropriate?"
There's
no basis for comparison at all!. . ."1
The
dialogue goes on in this manner, until the thinker is eventually overcome by
the presence of femininity and almost succumbs to her charms. The feeling of excitement and tension
throughout this long encounter is a result of Hakim's artistry in developing
the woman into a kind of intangible force which hovers over the story like a
Sheherazade in the Thousand and One Nights. The thinker is torn between succumbing to material delights
or clinging to thought. In the end
he stays with thought and rejects the material, tempting though is was. The ending accords with the author's
wishes, although the telephone call which distracts him is a weak contrivance. The important part of the book is the
dialogue which precedes the outcome.
The dialogue in Al-Ribat is a wavering between thought and body.
II. BANK AL-QALAQ
In
Hakim's most recent novel, Bank al-Qalaq, he explores still further this
wavering, now characterized by worry, and even terror. There is no longer any discussion of
the contrast between the spiritual and material. Instead, it seems to be the final expression of a man who
has been tormented by these dualities all his life and now wishes to show the
overall effect of such worries. In
the first chapter of the novel, the protagonist, Adham Sulayman watches a night
club scene, and thinks about qalaq(worry). He looks at the pretty female acrobat on the cabaret stage
as she perches atop a human skyscraper of men and feels a strange torn feeling(qalaq)
in his mind and body because she happens to be his faithless wife, who jumps
from lover to lover and comes back to him for short periods, leaving him always
in doubt about where she will be next.
He looks next at the young people dancing, twisting their bodies into
contorted forms and wonders what their worries are. As he leaves the cabaret and walks along the Nile, he muses
that even the lovers in the moonlight are entangling themselves in worry:1
"The evening air was fresh
outside. It was one of those
Cairene nights of May. The stroll
along the Nile "Cornish" was delightful. The couples of lovers sat in intimacy all along its stone
benches. Every boy clung to his
girl. As Adham walked among them,
he saw too clearly what their future would be: housing crisis, crises of communication and consumer goods!.
. .That is the end result of the addition, subtraction and division in love
operations in our present age. The
thing that worries the lovers now is how to get together. But when they are joined under one roof
and all becomes naked between them, worry will take on a new aspect. . .
Adham is an interesting
character. He has many worries
himself, yet at the same time, as seen in the above passage, he is above the
problems of others. He founds his
ridiculous "Bank" in this spirit of detachment from other people, yet
he thereby becomes involved in a game which puts his own security in jeopardy.
Bank al-Qalaq is
extremely contemporary in form, perhaps in advance of its time. Much of the novel is in the form of a
dialogue. It might be expected
that Egypt's great playwright would eventually develop this new, fast-moving
form for a novel:1
the Masrawiyya(play-novel), as one critic calls it.2 It is a revolutionary technique,
giving the novel the same impact and double vision as can be achieved on
film. Perhaps it is not a
coincidence that Bank al-Qalaq appeared about the same time as
Antonioni's Blow-Up in 1966.
Both works tell much the same story. The heroes of the novel and the film each wander through the
colorful confusion of the modern world.
They exhibit a pseudo-serious approach to their surroundings, and then
suddenly discover that there are terrible tragedies underneath it all.
The
author describes the characters from the outside, instead of having them speak
in a straight-forward confession.
By shifting his focus from the inner to the outer, somewhat the way a
cinema camera moves in on its subject and then jumps far away, Hakim can reveal
a great deal about his characters.1
The treatment of Adham's thoughts as he walks along the Nile is a good
example of his technique.
Furthermore, his juxtaposition of sections of pure dialogue in the text
add to the shifting, cinematographic effect. He has produced much the same atmosphere that Antonioni
achieved in his film. Antonioni
uses many devices to produce an atmosphere suspended between reality and psychedelic
eccentricity. One feels this
suspended atmosphere during the scenes when the casually eccentric photographer
here "blows up" some pictures and discovers he had been photographing
a man being killed.
Hakim's
half-novel, half-play produces the same suspended effect. The following quotation from the end of
Chapter Six and the beginning of Scene Six is a good example of Hakim's
technique. Adham's newspaper friend
Mutawally is talking with Adham and Sha'ban in their newly established
band. He has noticed Sha'ban's
attraction for the rich manager's niece, and Adham attempts to steer him on to
a different topic before he gets too curious. After Mutawally leaves, Adham and Sha'ban wait for their
Bank of Worry clients to come.
Chapter Six, of which the last page is quoted, is a novelistic chapter,
followed by a "scene" arranged like a play.
The
crafty reporter noticed Sha'ban's concern, and cast a sly glance in his
direction. Adham understood what
he was after, and hastened to cover up for his friend by pointing out that all
the case meant to them was an attempt to under stand her social class. What was its actual position in this
changed society?. . .Had society really changed? From what point of view had it changed? And how far-reaching was the extent of
this change? Was it really
complete change, or merely superficial?!. . . Mutawally only shrugged his
shoulders. Suddenly he seemed
tired, because everything outside the realm of pure reporting made him yawn. .
. Even commentary and analysis of news bored him and made him lazy. Whenever the course of a conversation
would reach a joke or a similar triviality, he would get up and leave. This was what he did now. He left the two companions saying that
he would return another time to get what news the bank would make. . .
Adham
and Sha'ban were left sitting ,waiting for their customers to come. They waited until waiting lost its
meaning. And they almost forgot
that they were waiting for anyone or anything. . .
Then,
when the doorbell rang they took no notice of it. Or rather, they noticed it, but did not believe it. But it was really ringing. . .
Scene Six
(Adham is sitting stiffly at his desk.
Sha'ban is in front of him. The
Doorbell is ringing. . .)
Sha'ban:
Is it really ringing?
Adham
: Or. . .do you think we're
dreaming?
Sha'ban:
And is it really a customer?
Adham
: That is what we will know
when you open the door.
Sha'ban:
Am I the one who is supposed to open the door?
Adham
: Of course, who else?
Sha'ban:
Why don't you open it?
Adham
: Because I am the
director.
Sha'ban:
And I am the treasurer.
Adham
: There is no treasurer any
more. We did away with that office
because the rich "Bek" handles all financial transactions now.
Sha'ban:
Then there is also no longer any office of director.
Adham
: How do you mean?
Sha'ban:
Because the rich "Bek" also handles general administration.
You're no more than a simple employee here, with a desk in room number one.
Adham
: By this reasoning, you,
too, are just another employee and your desk is in room two.
Sha'ban:
Precisely: In other words,
there is no difference between you and me. Therefore when the bell rings, one of us must answer.
Adham
: It must be you who
answers because your are number two and I am number one. Number one is better than number
two.
Sha'ban:
It's stopped ringing. It
seems that the customer has left. . .1
The
dialogue continues in this vein until the customers come in and begin to
recount their problems to Adham and Sha'ban. As seen in the part quoted, Bank al-Qalaq alternates
between the novelistic form and the dialogue without underlying rationale. There is no particular reason the
author could not have put what the newspaper reporter said into the dialogue
form. The play chapter comes as an
interlude to the text. The text
merges with the play, giving the novel an ethereal quality, especially since
the dialogues are slightly absurd.
The reader of Bank al-Qalaq is suspended like the characters themselves. His attitude alternates between the
intense participation of the playgoer and the detached feeling of the
omniscient observer in a novel.2
The
whole middle section of the novel takes on this somewhat ethereal duality as
customers come one by one to tell their worries. The dialogues are not completely absurd: Hakim does not lose opportunities for
some humorous observations on society and the new politics. But the effect is to suspend the story
until the final, tragic display of a woman with a real worry. Fatimah has been compelled to conceal a
painful secret all her life, because of a moment of passion in her youth. As the novel closes and the Bank is
about to dissolve into nothingness again, the author gives a flashback on the
scene that torments this woman.
She had committed adultery with her own sister's husband and had driven
her sister insane. She had watched
the scene of her sister igniting her sleeping husband with kerosene and trying
to die with him because she loved him, in spite of his adultery. The husband had saved his wife from the
flames by pushing her away, but he himself could not escape: thus his wife saw her own husband burn
to death. The terror drove her
insane. Fatimah, as atonement for
her part in the affair, devoted herself to bringing up her sister's daughter
without telling her the tragedy, but every day brings fearful memories to her.
The
protagonists of the novel never discover the whole inner tragedy of this woman,
whose niece had been one of the "clients" associated with the
Bank. Their concern at the end of
the book is to extract themselves from their Bank, which might result in disaster
for them if they are caught. Their
discovery that their playful Bank idea had been financed by an illegal
conspiracy shows them that the ground they tread on is paper thin and in danger
of tearing and letting them drop into the world of terror.
Bank
al-Qalaq ends on a serious note.
Like the heroes of some of Hakim's other novels, Adham and Sha'ban are
left suspended, almost as failures.
What will happen next? One
wonders. In 'Audet al-Ruh
Muhsin discovered a faith in Egypt, but at the end of the novel he is in
prison, not working for his faith.
He has won a victory in his mind, but not in reality.
The
fantasy in Bank al-Qalaq, on the other hand, never was in the realm of
the real. It takes place in the
absurd; and when the real enters
in, the absurd must collapse: the
Bank of Worry disappears. The
Absurd in Bank al-Qalaq is nothing more than a modern expression for the
mystical ideas by which men in the Middle East have found meaning for
ages. For a while, Adham and
Sha'ban found meaning in their absurd idea and could even make money out of it,
but they soon were caught in the reality it created: the suspect affairs of their patron. At the end of the book, they must
extract themselves before reality overtakes them. But one wonders if they merely move off, or whether they
keep their fertile imaginations intact.
Will they keep striving to devise more supra-worldly jobs like the Worry
Bank for themselves? Or will they
give up and live with reality.
Probably they will be as Hakim himself seems to be; neither a complete
mystic, nor a realist, but caught, unbalanced, in between.
CONCLUSION
Tawfiq
al-Hakim is now seventy years old and has the reputation of being one of
Egypt's foremost men of letters.
He still wears the French beret which he must have bought in Paris as a
student. He will never forget his
years in France and all he learned there about art. But, nevertheless, he has dedicated himself to his own
literature. He has made a
conscious effort to produce an indigenous Arab literature, using techniques
from the heritage of his past. He
uses the techniques of Sheherazade in his Maze of Justice for
example. He has given
consideration to the themes which face the intellectuals of his society and
made them understood by all his readers.
He dealt with the problems of facing the West, and of raising one's
spirit above disappointment and sad reality. The characters in his early novels tried to find consolation
in higher ideals. Those of his
later novels begin to feel a frustration in face of the overpowering forces of
reality, but they cling to their imagination and humor.
Because
of the intellectual orientation of his works, some people have accused him of
being aloof, and of living in an ivory tower. After his first period in the country and in Paris, he never
actually lived with the people.
Even his novels which developed out of his actual experiences lack the
tragic realism of younger Egyptian writers. He views all situations from a detached, aristocratic point
of view. Nevertheless, he feels
emotions strongly and is able to put these emotions into writing--whether they
be emotions of national identity, of anti-feminism, of mystical questing, or of
the terror of living dualistic lives.
He
has introduced an effective writing style for the novel in Arabic: it is simple and unadorned. The power of his writing lies in his
ability to present thoughts quickly and concisely. He used the colloquial language in his dialogues and even at
certain times in his text. A
colloquial word or expression often speaks more forcefully than the classical,
since the reader will have heard it used.
But Hakim is against total reliance on the colloquial. Outside of his dialogues he always
observes the rules of the classical, making skillful use of its
sophistication. Some of his ideas
about a "third language" in the theater have spilled over into his
novels. The "third
language" is a language which is grammatically correct, yet can be spoken
by porters. In Bank al-Qalaq,
the dialogues are in this "third language." The classical has a colloquial ring about it.
Hakim
is equally well known in his country outside of literary circles. He has a large following among common
people from all walks of life, not merely intellectual. It might be an exaggeration to say that
he is the pulse-beat of his country, but he does strike common chords in the
hearts of millions of Arabs. His 'Audet
al-Ruh(Return of the Spirit) has probably been one of the most important
books of pre-revolutionary, and post-revolutionary Egypt. The fact that it influenced President
Nasser is of considerable significance.
It is the literary spirit behind the revolution.
Hakim's
concern for his country does not lead him to indulge in overly sensational
cries for reform or social improvement.
He is noted for his balanced views, although at times he can be firm and
impassioned. At certain points in Maze
of Justice and Bank al-Qalaq, he keeps a satiric vein, poking fun at
people and at the government. The
satire is subtle enough not to offend or insult--which makes it all the more
readable and effective.
The
novels of Tawfiq al-Hakim are an integral part of his whole literary and social
career. They reflect the same
basic themes as in his plays and essays:
his enchantment with the east, his patriotic concerns, and his attempts
to reach a mystical ideal above sordid reality and materialism. He is one of the first Arab writers for
whom novelistic writing was more than an aside to politics, or scholarship(as
it was for Aqqad and Taha Hussein).
He is the complete artist, and has shown that there is room for pure
artists in the Arab revival which is taking place in the Middle East
today. Through his art, he has
raised the sight of a great many people in his own country, and in other Arab
countries. He has given the Arabic
novel a basis for existing on its own, with its own concerns and methods. The Arabic novel need no longer be
ashamed of itself for being a western technique. With Hakim, it has become Arab as well.
BIBLIOGRAPHY1
BIOGRAPHICAL WORKS ON HAKIM
Books
Adham, Isma'il. Tawfiq al-Hakim, al-Fannan al-Ha'ir("Hakim, an
artist in turmoil") Cairo;
Dar Sa'ad Misr lilTiba'at wa al-Nashr, 1945(first published 1939). Standard book on Hakim; unfortunately the biography has been
built solely from the stories of Muhsin in 'Audet al-Ruh and 'Usfour
min al-Sharq, and is colored by a Freudian interpretation. The book gives accurate dates for time
of writing of Hakim's early books.
Badr, 'abd al-Muhsin Taha. Tatawwur al-Riwaya
al-'Arabiya al-Haditha fi Misr.
Cairo; Dar al-Ma'arif,
1963. A good summary of Hakim's
life and split personality, pp.
372-397.
Dayf, Shawqi.
Al-Adab al-Arabi al-Mu'asir fi Misr. Cairo; Dar
al-Ma'arif, 2nd ed., 1961.
Excellent short biography of his life and works.
Hakim, Tawfiq al-. Sijn al-'Umr("Life's Prison")Cairo; Maktabat al-Adab, 1964. Autobiographical account of his early
childhood, showing his struggle to associate himself with artists even at an
early age when writing plays for the Akasha theater in Cairo.
_________.
Zahrat al-'Umr("Flower of Life")Cairo; Maktabat al-Adab, 1965(first pub. 1943)
*Ziadeh, Farhat. A Reader in Modern Literary Arabic(Princeton; P.U.
Press, 1964. On page 279 is a
paragraph on Hakim's life.
Periodicals
Wahby, Samir.
"Bain Tawfiq al-Hakim wa Yahya Haqqi"("A comparison
between T. al-Hakim and Y. Haqqi") Al-Fikr al-Mu'asir. Dec. (1965),
pp. 82-92. Recounts some early
impressions of Hakim as observed by Y. Haqqi, his colleague in Law School. Discusses Hakim's experience in the
country as an assistant to the Deputy Prosecutor.
CRITICAL WORKS ON HAKIM'S NOVELS
Books
Adham, Isma'il. Tawfiq al-Hakim. Cairo: Dar
Sa'ad Misr lil-Tiba'at wa al-Nashr, 1945(first published 1939). Standard work on Hakim's early
novels(and plays). Criticizes
discrepancy between the symbolic and the real stories in 'Audet al-Ruh. Praises Yomiyat for its concern
with issues. Compares his novels
to certain European novels. The
second chapter of part two, pp. 114-131 is especially good.
Badr, Abd al-Muhsin Taha. "'Audet al-Ruh wa Tawfiq al-Hakim" in his Tatawwur
al-Riwaya al-Arabiyya al-Haditha fi Misr, Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1963.
pp. 372-397. Good literary
criticism of 'Audet al-Ruh.
*Berque, Jacques. Les Arabes d'Hier à Demain. Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1960.
*Gabrielli, F.
Storia della Litteratura Araba. Milan: Nuova Acedemica Editrice, 1962, p. 350.
*Gibb, H.A.R.
"'Arabiyya" in Encyclopedia of Islam New Edition. Leiden: 1954 ff.,
pp.597-598. One of the greatest
authorities in Arabic literature makes some comments about Hakim's novels in
relation to the development of Modern Arabic Literature.
Hakim, Tawfiq al-. Ash'ab.
Cairo: Maktabat al-Adab,
1964(first published 1949). In the
introduction, the author expresses his desire to revitalize history in this
novel.
________.
Lailat al-Zifaf("The Wedding Night"). Cairo: Maktabat al-Adab, 1966(first published 1949). In the introduction, Hakim expresses
his feeling about the importance of the short story in this age of speed where
people do not have time to read novels.
________.
"Les Lettres Arabes à Travers ce Dernier Quart de
siecle" in L'Islam et L'Occident. Vienne: Cahiers
du sud, 1947. One of the most
important essays concerning Hakim's view of Arabic literature and its relation
to the past.
________.
"Khalq"(Character) chapter in Taht Shams al-Fikr. Cairo: Matba'at lajnat al-Ta'lif wa al-Tarjuma, 1938. Interesting for Hakim's views on the
character of the Egyptian spirit.
He feels that the Egyptian has a deep desire for permanency, not change
and worry. A combination of
Egyptian permanency and Arab speed is what is needed to bring a harmony of
material and spiritual.(p.70)
Haqqi, Yahya. Khatawat fi al-Naqd(Footsteps
in Criticism). Cairo: Dar al-'Arabah, 1961. In a chapter called "Hakim between
Hope and Fear," Haqqi criticizes his symbolism in 'Audet al-Ruh. pp. 93-107.
Jundi, Anwar al-. Al-Qissah al-'Arabiya al-Mu'asirah("The Modern
Arabic Novel"). Cairo: Dar al-Qaumiya li-al-Taba'at wa
al-Nashr, 1964.
________.
Min A'lam al-Fikr wa al-Adab("Some Great Thinkers and
Writers"). Cairo: Dar al-Qaumiya l-al-Taba'at wa
al-Nashr, 1964. In a short chapter
on Hakim, he discusses his attitude toward women, Sufism, and art.
*Makarius, Raoul et Laura. Anthologie de la littérature arabe contemporaine. Vol. 1, Le roman et la nouvelle. Paris, 1964. Short paragraph on Hakim introducing a translation of his
short story "Les Estivants enchainés."
*Monteil, Vincent. Les Grands Courants de la littérature arabe
contemporaine. Beirut: Cenacle Libanais, 1959. Mentions Hakim's contribution to
symbolism, pp. 11-12.
Mustafa, Ahmad al-Rahim. Tawfiq al-Hakim, Afkaruh, Atharuh("T. al-Hakim,
his thought and influence".
Cairo, 1952. This book
lacks originality, but the author has collected a great deal of information on
Hakim's thoughts from his essays.
*Nagy, O.
"Un representant du modernism dans la litterature egyptienne: Tawfiq al-Hakim" Studia et Acta Orientalia 1. Bucharest, 1958, pp. 333-338. Discusses French influences on Yomiyat.
Ra'i, 'Ali al-. Dirasat fi al-Riwaya al-Misriya. Cairo: al-Mu'assasat al-Misriya al-'Azma, 1964. Discussion of 'Audet al-Ruh and
Hakim's technique.
*Veglieri, L. and Rubinacci, R. "Al-Qasr
al-Mashour"("The Enchanted Castle") in Naples, Instituto
Orientale, Taha Hussein.
Naples, 1964. Review and
summary of Al-Qasr al-Mashour in Italian.
*Wiet, Gaston.
Introduction a la Litterature Arabe. Paris: UNESCO
et G.P. Maisonneuve et Larose.
Excellent short appraisal of Hakim and his modern work pp. 290-291.
Periodicals
Abd Allah, Muhammad Abd al-Halim. "Hadith ma' Mu'allif 'Audet
al-Ruh, Tawfiq al-Hakim"("Interview with the author of 'Audet
al-Ruh, T. al-Hakim"), al-Qissah, no. 5(May 1963), pp.
5-13. Interview with Hakim
discussing his inspiration for 'Awdet al-Ruh, his preference for play
writing, and his respect for authors like Graham Greene who spent time out of
their counties before writing.
Barakat, 'Ali.
"Masrawiya Tawfiq al-Hakim, Bank al-Qalaq" Al-Fikr
al-Mu'asir, April 1967 no. 26, pp. 105-109. Excellent article on Hakim's preoccupation with qalaq,
the worries of the modern world.
Compares Hakim's new play-novel form to the cinema and to the Greek
tragedy with its chorus and actors.
*Barbour, Nevill. "'Audet al-Ruh, An Egyptian Novel" Islamic Culture no. 9(1935). pp. 487-492. Written in English, this is also one of the most sensitive
understandings of 'Audet al-Ruh and Hakim's use of the colloquial
language in the dialogues.
Dwarah, Fu'ad.
"Tawfiq al-Hakim wa al-Wilayat al-Muttahida"("T. al-Hakim
and the U.S.A."), Al-Majallah, August 1967, p. 95. Some anti-American quotations from
Hakim's essays pointing to the fact that we supposedly have no culture, except
that of the Dollar. Interesting
only as an example of the prestige Hakim has in his country as an authority on
culture.
Hilal, Al-. September 1964: book review of his new "Rihlat
al-Rabi'a wa al-Kharif"("Spring and Autumn Journey").
Idris, Suhail.
"Al-Butulah fi al-Riwaya al-'Arabiya al-Haditha"("Heroism
in Modern Arabic Novels"), Al-Fikr no. 5(Feb. 1959), pp.
53-67. Excellent essay on
patriotic novels in the Middle East:
'Audet al-Ruh is dealt with in detail from this point of view.
Rushdy, Rashid. "Ma' T. al-Hakim wa Mahmoud Teymour" al-Katib
Feb. 1962, pp. 21-29. Review of
Hakim's new play about wavering:
"The Confused Sultan."
*Sfeir, George N. "The Contemporary Arabic Novel" Daedalus
vol. 95(Fall 1966), pp. 941-960.
One of the most recent articles surveying modern Arabic literature from
a Western point of view. Hakim's
concerns are discussed.
Toukhy, 'Abd Allah al-. "Al-Usfour 'ala 'ard al-'Abath"("The Bird at
his tricks"). Rose
al-Yousef, July 12, 1964.
Article praising Hakim's new experiments in the theater of the
absurd: "The Tree
Climber" and "Journey of Spring and Fall."
Wahby, Samir. "Bain Tawfiq al-Hakim wa Yahya Haqqi" Al-Fikr
al-Mu'asir, Dec. 1965, pp. 82-92.
Excellent comparative study of Hakim and Haqqi. Discussion of Yomiyat and the
influence of Sayyida Zeinab and elementary mysticism in some of their works.
OTHER WORKS CONSULTED
Books
Balzac, Honore. Le Lys dans la Vallee. This great novel of first love may have influenced Hakim's 'Audet
al-Ruh.
France, Anatole. Thais.
Hakim's Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas developed out of this novel, the
story of a hermit who loses his soul for the desires of the flesh.
Gibb, H.A.R.
Arabic Literature Second Edition. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1963.
________.
"Studies in Contemporary Arabic Literature," in his Studies
on the Civilization of Islam.
Boston: Beacon Press,
1962. This essay first appeared in
1933, and does not mention Hakim.
Grunebaumm, G.E. Von. Islam(especially the chapter entitled "Self
Interpretation in Contemporary Islam").
Rosenthal, F.
"Ash'ab" in Encyclopedia of Islam new edition.
Steinbeck, John. Of Mice and Men. 1937. The effect of this is comparable to Hakim's Bank al-Qalaq.
Zeine, Zeine N. Arab-Turkish Relations and the Emergence of Arab
Nationalism, 1958.
Periodicals
Heyworth-Dunne, J. "Society and Politics in
Modern Egyptian Literature" Middle
East Journal, July 1948, pp.
306-309.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL AIDS
Cassell's Dictionary of Literature Vol. II
al-Kashaf al-Tahlili lil-Suhuf wa-al-Majallat
al-'Arabiyah("Analytical Index for Arabic Newspapers and
Magazines"). Cairo: May 1962-Jan. 1968 ff. Consult under Tawfiq al-Hakim for
articles on him in magazines and newspapers. There is a great deal written on him every month in Egypt.
Pearson.
Index Islamicus.
APPENDIX
CHRONOLOGICAL LISTING OF HAKIM'S MAIN WORKS
Works Inspired by his Paris and Egyptian Country
Periods
Paris 1925-1928
Country 1929-1934
first pub. Title Publisher of
New Ed. Typt of Work
1933 |
Ahl al-Kahf("The Men from the
Cave" |
Maktabat al-Adab, 1965 |
(play) |
|
|
1933 |
'Audet al-Ruh("Return of the
Spirit") |
Maktabat al-Adab, 196-? |
(novel) |
|
|
1934 |
Shahrazade |
M. al-Adab, 1952 |
(play) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
French trans.
Hakim, T. Theatre Arabe Paris: Nouvelles Editions Latines, 1950
|
|
|
|
|
|
1934 |
Ahl al-Fann("The Arty People") |
Matba'at al-Hilal, 1943 |
(3 short stories) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
|
French trans.
"Montmartre vue par un poete Oriental," in Hakim, T. Souvenirs
d'un Magistrat-Poete. Paris:
Nouvelles Editions Latines, 1961.
1936 |
Muhammad |
M. al-Adab, 19--? |
(play) |
1937 |
Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf |
M. al-Adab |
(novel) |
English trans.
Hakim, T. Maze of Justice, A.S. Eban trans. London: Harvill Press, 1947.
French trans.
Hakim, T. Journal d'un Substitut de Campagne, Wiet and Hassan,
trans. Le Cairo: Editions de la Revue du Caire, 1942.
1936 |
Al-Qasr al-Mashour("The Enchanted
Castle") |
Dar al-Nashr al-Hadith, 1936 |
(dialogue with T. Hussein and
"Sheherezade") |
1933 |
'Usfour min al-Sharq("Bird from the
East") |
M. al-Adab, 196-? |
(novel) |
French trans. Hakim, T. L'Oiseau
d'Orient. Paris: Nouvelles Eds. Latines, 1960. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Second Period
Ministry of Education and Social Guidance 1933-1943.
1938 |
Ahd al-Shaytan("The Age of
Satan") |
M. al-Adab, 1964 |
(philosophical short stories) |
1938 |
Ash'ab |
M. al-Adab, 1964 |
(novel) |
1938 |
Masrahiyat ("Plays") |
|
(early plays) |
These are
now collected in Hakim's Masrah al-Munawa'a. M. al-Adab, 1966. |
1938 |
Taht Shams al-Fikr("Under the Sun of
Thought") |
M. al-Adab, 1965 |
(essays on art, culture) |
1939 |
Raqisat al-Ma'bad("Dancer of the
Temple") |
Matba'at al-Tawkil, 1939 |
(novel?) |
1940 |
Himar al-Hakim("Hakim's Donkey") |
M. al-Adab, 1965 |
(stories of a philosophical donkey) |
1941 |
Sultan al-Zalam("Ruler of
Darkness") |
3rd. e. M. al-Adab, 1963 |
(essays on modern man) |
1943 |
Sulayman al-Hakim("King Soloman") French trans. in Theatre Arabe |
M. al-Adab, 1948 |
(play) |
Third Period
1934-196-
Government appointments and honorary posts in National Library, High
Council of the Arts, UNESCO.
1945 |
Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas("The Holy
Bond") |
M. al-Adab, 1965 |
(anti-feminine novel) |
1949 |
Al-Malik Oudib("Oedipus the
King") |
M. al-Adab, 1965 |
(play) |
1949 |
Lailat al-Zifaf("The Wedding Night") |
M. al-Adab, 1966 |
(short stories) |
French
trans. of some of them in Souvenirs d'un Magistrat-Poete.
1952 |
Masrah al-Mujtama' ("Social
Theater") |
M. al-Adab. 1952 |
(plays) |
1954 |
'Arni Allah("Show me God") |
M. al-Adab. 1954 |
(short stories) |
English
trans. of "Miracles for Sale" in Johnson-Davies, D. Modern Arabic Short Stories.
Oxford: University Press, 1967.
1955 |
Izis("Isis") |
M. al-Adab, 1955 |
(play) |
1956 |
Al-Safqa("The Deal") |
M. al-Adab, 1956 |
(play) |
1956 |
Al-Masrah al-Munawwa'("Selected
Plays") |
M. al-Adab, 1956 |
(plays) |
1960 |
Al-Sultan al-Ha'ir("The Confused
Sultan") |
M. al-Adab, 1960 |
(play) |
1962 |
Ya Tali'a al-Shajara("The Tree
Climber") |
M. Al-Adab, 1963 |
(play) |
English
trans. The Tree Climber, Johnson-Davies trans. Oxford Univ. Press, 1965.
1963 |
Al-Ta'am li kul Fam("Food for Every
Mouth") |
M. al-Adab, 1963 |
(play) |
1964 |
Rihlat al-Rabi'a wa al-Kharif("Spring
and Autumn Journey") |
Dar al-Ma'arif, 1964 |
(plays) |
1966 |
Bank al-Qalaq("Bank of Worry") |
Dar al-Ma'arif, 1966 |
(novel) |
THE END
1969 Senior Thesis submitted in April, 1969 for the
BA degree at Princeton University in the Oriental Studies Department.
In this retyping to computer compatible text, the
original typed manuscript has been adhered to, with some exceptions due to the
inability of the computer to put dots under "velarized" Arabic
transliterations, like the Ta, Sad, etc.
The Arabic script, handwritten in the original thesis, was set in
SimpleText Arabic(for the Macintosh™), screen shot to the clipboard, and
then pasted into Microsoft Word™ English.
@Copyright Denis Hoppe and Seeley G. Mudd Manuscript
Library, 65 Olden Street, Princeton, NJ 08544. Tel. 609 258-6345
1 The basis for this chapter is Sayf, Shawqi, al-Adab al-Arabi al-Mu'asir(Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1961), pp. 288-293.
1 Wahby,
Samir, "Bain Tawfiq al-Hakim wa Yahya Haqqi"(T. al-Hakim and Y.
Haqqi: a comparison), Fikr
al-Mu'asir(December 1965), pp83-84. .
1 Adham, Isma'il, Tawfiq al-Hakim(Cairo: Dar Sa'ad Misr li al-Tiba'at wa al-Nashr 1945, first published 1939), p. 94.
2 Montmartre vu par un poete oriental apres la premiere guerre mondiale" in Souvenirs d'un Magistrat-Poete(Paris: Nouvelles editions Latines 1961), p. 88.
3 This funny play can be found in Hakim, T. al-Masrah al-Munawwa'(Cairo: Maktabat al-Adab 1956).
1 Hakim, T. The Maze of Justice. trams. A.B. Eban.
2 Hakim, T. Souvenirs d'un Magistrat-Poete, first nine stories are from al-'Adalah wa al-Fann.
1 Hakim, T. Masrah al-Mujtama'(Cairo: Maktabat al-Adab, 1950).
1 Hakim, T. 'Arni Allah(Cairo: Maktabat al-Adab, 1952), pp.119-130.
1 cf, Nagy, O. "Un representant du modernisme dans la litterature Egyptienne: Tawfiq al-Hakim" in Studia et Acta Orientalia I(Bucharest, 1958), pp. 333-338. He suggests specific French influences for Yomiyat: E. Zola's Verite and H. Bordeaux's Le Carnet d'un Stagiare.
2 Hakim, T. "Les Lettres Arabes a Travers ce Dernier Quart de Siecle," L'Islam et l"Occident(Vienne, France: Cahiers du Sud, 1947), pp. 246-247.
1 Hakim, T. Yomiyat Na'ib fil Aryaf(Cairo: Maktabat al-Adab, 1956 ed.), p.
1 Hakim, T. Yomiyat(Cairo: Maktabat al-Adab, 1965 ed.), p. 63 in Oct. 15 chapter.
2 Hakim, T. Yomiyat...p. 156 in Oct. 22 chapter.
1 Hakim, T. Yomiyat. . . . p. 86-91 Oct. 17 chapter.
1 Hakim, Taht Shams al-Fikr(Cairo: M. al-Adab, 1965), p. 108.
1 Veglieri, Laura and Rubinacci, Roberto. "Al-Qsr Al-Mashour" in Naples, Instituto Orientale, Taha Hussein(Naples, 1964), pp. 93-113.
1 Hakim, Laylat al-Zifaf(Cairo: M. al-Adab, 1966 new ed.). pp. 136-154.
2 Hakim, Laylat al-Zifaf . . . .pp. 173-193. French trans. in Hakim, Souvenirs d'un Magistrat: "La Barque du Soleil," pp. 173-193.
1 Hakim, Ash'ab or Tarikh hayat Ma'ida(Cairo, 1938). Variously called "history of a Stomach" and "King of the Vagabonds."
2 Introduction to the new edition of Ash'ab(Cairo: M. al-Adab, 1962).
1 Encyclopedia of Islam, New Ed.(Leiden, 1954 ff.) pp. 690-691
1 Hakim, Bank al-Qalaq(Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1965), p. 224.
1 Samir Wahby has made an interesting comparison between Bank al-Qalaq and John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men(1937). Both are novels about two happy people who get into tragic situations.
2 Hakim, The Tree Climber(Oxford: 1966) Johnson-Davies, trans. cf. Introduction.
1 St. John, Robert, The Boss, p. 89.
2 Berque, Jacques. Les Arabes d'Hier a demain(Paris: Seuil ed., 1960), pp. 182-183.
1 Von Grunebaum, Gustave. Islam, p. 220.
2 Barbour, N. "Audet al-Ruh, an Egyptian Novel" Islamic Culture 9(1935), p. 492.
1 "Hakim sends his protagonist on a journey to the
national past of his own land."
Sfeir, George. "The
Contemporary Arabic Novel" Daedelus
vol. 95(Fall 1966), pp. 441-460.
2 Suhail, Idris. "Al-Butula fi al-Riwaya al-Arabiya al-Haditha" Al-
Fikr no. 5(Feb. 1959), pp. 53-67.
3 'Awad, Tawfiq Yusuf, Al-Raghif("The Bread"), 5th ed., Maktabat Beirut, Beirut, Lebanon, 1978.
1 Heyworth-Dunne, J. "Society and Politics in Modern Egyptian Literature" Middle East Journal 1948, July, p. 310.
1 Heyworth-Dunne, "Society and Politics . . .," p. 313.
1 Gibb, H.A.R. "'Arabiyya" New Encyclopedia of Islam p. 598.
2 Sfeir, G.
"The Contemporary Arabic Novel" Daedalus Fall
1966, p. 943.
1 Haqqi, Y. Khutuwat fi al-Naqd(Footsteps in Criticism), (Cairo: Dar al-Arabah, 1961?), p. 106.
2 Hakim, T. Yomiyat . . ., p. 112.
1 Adham, I. Tawfi al-Hakim, p. 180.
2 Ibid.
3 Wahby, S. "Bain Tawfiq al-Hakim wa Yahya Haqqi" Al-Fikr al-Mu'asir(Dec., 1965), p. 89.
1 Hakim, T. Audet al-Ruh (Cairo: M. al-Adab, 196? new ed.), pp. 254-255.
1 Hakim, T. Yomiyat. . . . ., p. 139.
1 Hakim, T. Yomiyat . . . . . , p. 125.
1 Hakim, T. Bank al-Qalaq(Cairo: Dar al-Ma'arif, 1966), p. 125.
1 For a further discussion of Hakim's views of women, see Mustapha, Ahmad al-Rahim, Tawfiq al-Hakim(Cairo: 1952), p. 69. Hakim felt that the Egyptian woman had emerged too suddenly from her position as an object of sensuous pleasure to a member of society.
1 Wahby, S. "Bain T. al-Hakim wa Y. Haqqi"al-Fikr al-Mu'asir(Dec., 1965), pp. 89-90.
2 Wahby, S. op. cit., p. 90.
1 Hakim, T. Al-Ribat al-Muqaddas(Cairo: M. al-Adab, 196? new ed.), pp. 280-281.
1 Hakim, T. Bank al-Qalaq(Cairo: Dar al-Ma'aarif, 1966) pp. 17-18.
1 Hakim never felt at home in the novel because the novelist must take an overly active part in the development of the story, whereas in a play, the dialogue carries its own thoughts, and the author's manipulation is minimal. cf. Abd Allah, Muhammad. "Hadith ma' Tawfiq al-Hakim" Al-Qissah, May 1963, pp. 5-13.
2 Barakat, Ali. "Masrawiyat T. Al-Hakim" Al-Fikr al-Mu'asir(April 1967), p. 108.
1 Barakat, A. "Masrawiat T. al-Hakim" Al-Fiker al-Mu'asir(April 1967), p. 108.
1 Hakim, Bank al-Qalaq. . ., pp. 127-129.
2 Barakat, Ali. "Masrawiyat T. al-Hakim" op. cit., p. 109.
1 Entries are in Arabic unless marked with an asterisk.*