Dina Abou Salem

For a reader raised in the Middle East, Hanan Al-Shaykh's new book will call to mind many familiar situations—a neighbor forced by societal pressure to wear a hijab; a grandmother who silently attended to the needs of everyone except herself; a woman restricted to her house for three months of mourning following her husband's death. For Western readers, the book may seem more reminiscent of the kind of obstacles women faced generations ago.

The Locust and the Bird: My Mother's Story: your purchase benefits in part LCC (click image to buy)Ultimately Hanan Al-Shaykh's story of her mother, Kamila, not only captures elements of the lives of many Middle Eastern women, but also explores themes that transcend cultural boundaries. Despite the pain and desperation the protagonist endures, it is a tale of hope for those who defy the chains of tradition, and an inspiring lesson that forgiveness is the key to washing away contempt and unvoiced blame.

The Locust and the Bird: My Mother's Story (Pantheon Books 2009, translated from the Arabic by Roger Allen), is as compelling a narrative as Al-Shaykh's novels The Story of Zahra, Women of Sand and Myrrh, and Beirut Blues, and again features an Arab woman as a protagonist. But this book is written in the form of an "autobiographical" memoir told from the viewpoint of Al-Shaykh's mother, Kamila.

In a prologue, Al-Shaykh explains her decision to write her mother's story as a memoir. The reasons include coming to terms with her abandonment by her mother when she was seven, and revisiting the circumstances that shaped her acclaimed work The Story of Zahra and its first scene depicting a young girl witnessing her mother's infidelity. But Al-Shaykh's main motivation for writing in her mother's voice is to acknowledge Kamila's frustration with never learning to read and write, and her desire to tell her story-which Al-Shaykh had repeatedly ignored.

Author Hanan Al-ShaykhKamila's story begins with her as a mischievous child growing up in the 1930s in Nabatiyyah, South Lebanon. Abject poverty drives her to Beirut where an innocent love for a suitor named Muhammad ensued. This love for Muhammad—a relative of a seamstress to whom Kamila was sent to learn sewing—was interrupted when she was forced into an unwanted marriage to her dead sister's husband, but blossomed again as a secret and passionate affair, which eventually led Kamila to divorce her husband. The divorce cost her custody of her children and drew unwelcome social battles. Her troubles continued after Muhammad's death, but despite her grief over his death and the ongoing disapproval she faced, a sorority of fellow widows and divorcées would comfort her.

The Lebanese civil war, which dispersed her family, left her in exile for over a decade. What followed were sickness, palpable feelings of terror from impending death, and reconciliation attempts with Hanan.

The narration unfolds sequentially, culminating in Kamila's forgiveness of her father for abandoning her as a child and leaving her family destitute, and forgiveness of her mother for marrying her off to her dead sister's husband to attend to him and his children. Al-Shaykh skillfully inserts hints for the reader, to indicate the progression of time in Kamila's life, resulting in a seamless chronological narrative.

Hanan Al Shaykh, a child of Kamila's first marriage, takes over the narration in the epilogue to grant closure to a troubled relationship with her mother that magically turned into one of admiration, compassion, and respect.

Although the account seems to stall with unnecessary details in a few places, occasionally sending the narrative on tangents, this can be taken as an indicator of Hanan Al Shaykh's admirably faithful and rigorous commitment to the trust Kamila bestowed on her. After all, Al Shaykh's goal was to recount Kamila's biography in the way Kamila would have wanted. Toward the end, she refused to take credit for writing Kamila's memoir:

"I heard [Kamila's] voice insisting that she wanted to tell her own story. She did not want my voice. She wanted the beat of her heart, her anxieties and laughter, her dreams and nightmares... My mother wrote this book. She is the one who spread her wings. I just blew the wind that took her on her long journey back in time."

Kamila's story sheds light on crises still crucial and relevant to women in Middle Eastern society; below are just a few of many that the book addresses.

Consistently watching movies to educate herself about life, love, and poetry, Kamila would have avoided many tribulations had she learnt how to read, write, and count.

Her bitterness at not attending school, her pleading with her family and later Muhammad to teach her how to read and write, and her struggles to ward off meddling males in the family and their unsolicited management of her affairs, are typical plights for women in conservative pockets of Middle Eastern society. Her lack of education not only left her completely disempowered; Kamila's talent in poetry and creating similes and figurative language went entirely undocumented.

The damaging effects of parents' ubiquitous silence on what awaits a bride on her first night with a man is lucidly illustrated in Kamila's experience in her first marriage. Worse in Kamila's case were her impounded feelings of vulnerability, bareness, and solitude following her attempts to overcome the trauma of having to succumb to a repulsive man who is, not by her choice, her husband claiming the right to exploit her body and dominate her life as he pleases.

The book is by all means worthy of a "two thumbs up!" Its dichotomy of suffering and hardship, on the one hand, and love and forgiveness, on the other, is reflected in the choice of the title. The plot might have been revealed in literature reviews, but there is a yet-to-be-discovered pleasant surprise awaiting prospective readers on the last page.

 
Dina Abou Salem received her bachelors and masters of arts in Middle Eastern history at the American University of Beirut, Beirut, Lebanon. She has specialized training in three languages, journalistic and research writing, web editing, and production coordination and management. Now a writer based in Los Angeles, she teaches shami conversational Arabic at Levantine Cultural Center.