Who is Firdaus? Is Firdaus Firdaus? Or is Nawal? Or am I?
When Firdaus sees Miss Iqbal “hiding her face with one hand” she asks, “Are you crying, Miss Iqbal?”(29) She is asking, “Are you human?” These are the first female eyes she’s seen exude life.
Firdaus takes in eyes like she takes in the world. They burrow through her like crustaceans, beginning with her mother: “All I can remember are two rings of intense white around two circles of intense black. I only had to look into them for the white to become whiter and the black even blacker, as though sunlight was pouring into them from some magical source neither on earth, nor in the sky…”(16).
“Who is sitting there? In a weak, scared voice I replied, ‘It’s me, Firdaus’”(28)
And in the eyes in the classroom: “I saw all heads turn toward me, and all eyes staring in my direction, countless eyes transformed under my gaze into innumerable rings of white surrounding innumerable circles of black, which turned in a concerted circular movement to fix their look steadily in my eyes”(32).
“The bed creaked even more loudly under the two heavy bodies locked in a struggle…almost frenzied rhythm that shook the bed, and the floor, and the wall between us and even the sofa on which I was lying”(40).
On the street: “Now it seemed as if a third eye had suddenly been split open into my head”(42).
She uses this curse to her advantage: “And because they did not notice me I was able to observe them well”(42).
Upon remembering standing up to Bayoumi, “It was as though I was seeing the eyes that now confronted me for the first time. Two jet black surfaces that stared into my eyes…”(52).
“The creaking grew louder under the weight of the two bodies, as they embraced each other, wrestled with one another…Even the bed on which I was lying picked up the frenzied rhythm, and began to shake”(65).
“Who is it? Who is sitting there? I said in a sad voice, ‘It’s me, Firdaus’”(83).
I grabbed my small bag and found the door. His trembling fingers. The best girls, the best employees, I’m in love, two rings of white surrounded by black, the hammer beat down on my head. The streets are my home. His weight bore down on my body. My piastres. His sweat.
Nawal El Saadawi constructs this narrator through an interview. How does she do it?
Pleasure/pain. Passive/resistance. Princess/Prostitute. Master/Slave. Empowered Disassociation. Killing requires gentleness.
This cyclical repetition mirrors the dichotomous reality that Firdaus is in: one of no escape.
Like the text, her life is going in circles. Firdaus and El Saadawi harmonize: we need a major societal shift for Firdaus’ story, the story of the women of Egypt, our story, to have a different ending.
Sailor,
ReplyDeleteYou point out how this is the story of all women. How the lines between the narrator doctor, the author Saadawi and the character Firdaus are so brilliantly interwoven, how they blur to be all of their stories. How she makes this story relatable to all. I grapple how Saadawi does all of this too, especially in such a small book.
I like how you say that "Firdaus takes in eyes like she takes in the world. They burrow through her like crustaceans, beginning with her mother." I focused on the recurring of the eyes in the book but had some different observations than you did. Thank you for pointing out that she sees eyes differently than other women do. I didn't think about this in my reading.
Celine
Sailor,
ReplyDeletethe use of the eyes is permeating as are other images and feelings are focused upon. You have a great interpretation here, contributing to the understanding of the craft and we'll use that to look at more
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You bring up some interesting points. I wondered where El Sadaawi was in the novel and where Firdaus was authentically. What was real, what wasn't. Some really important social and cultural issues are being revealed through this novel, making it extremely political. You make an excellent point that the repetition that was utilized here mirrors Firdaus's reality: she can't escape it, even when she thinks she's won or learned or improved, there is another obstacle. It's victorious and tragic.
ReplyDelete"Pleasure/pain. Passive/resistance. Princess/Prostitute. Master/Slave. Empowered Disassociation. Killing requires gentleness."
In such a short novel, El Sadaawi has managed to tackle all of the above themes without dramatizing or victimizing her subject.