Going
underground
BY
Richard Woffenden
Ammar
Abdulhamid’s debut novel creates an image of a Syrian underworld
Set
in contemporary Damascus, Ammar Abdulhamid’s debut novel is going to upset people.
Its title, Menstruation, leaves readers in no doubt that Abdulhamid is not about to
pull any punches when it comes to taboo subjects. Clearly a reaction to repression in
itself, the novel looks at the effect of conservative values on society, particularly the
young.
Our
heroes are two young Syrians: Wisam, an unhappily married young woman, and Hasan, a young
man being pressured into marriage by his conservative father. Both struggle against the
expectations of society and with their sexual desires. Wisam finds herself stranded in a
marriage where the only contact she has with the husband is sexual. Her mother warned her
about the nightmare that would be her in-laws, but nothing prepared her for the hostility
she receives. Her mother in law becomes the communication channel that her husband uses to
express his dissatisfaction with Wisam. It is only later, through her intimate
relationship with friends Batul and Fatin, that she is able to find any solace.
The
picture is not much rosier for Hasan, who enters into an extramarital affair with Salwa,
an older married woman, who then deserts him when he becomes emotionally attached. As with
Wisam, Abdulhamid is very clear that the sexual freedom the young people lack is mirrored
by and inseparably linked to the lack of free thought. Hasan’s confusion is
heightened by the religiosity of his family; his father is a sheikh and his sister and
sister-in-law run Quran classes for women. Hasan feels unable to communicate his fears and
desires and eventually turns to a couple of intellectuals, who form the linchpin of the
novel.
Nadim
and Kindah are liberal intellectuals who are seen by much of society as apostates yet are
guarded by the state because the government needs to show to the world that it allows
freedom of thought. Both Nadim and Kindah know that this safety is short-lived and that
they have as many enemies in the West as they do at home. Nadim particularly feels the
threat and waits for the wind to change and the persecution to begin. His fear for the
future has driven a rift between him and his wife at the beginning of the novel, as he
cannot face bringing a child into the situation. Kindah is distraught and sees parallels
in her situation with other women.
The
couple is eventually reconciled, but this very human side of their relationship helps put
them in perspective as the reader begins to see the reverence in which the couple are held
by many other more closeted liberals. It would have been very easy for the author to make
Kindah and Nadim the saviors of the story but he is careful to reveal their flaws, both
personal and ideologically. Throughout the novel, extracts of the couple’s writings
appear punctuating the social dramas of the characters.
Both
Hasan and Wisam encounter the intellectuals. Hasan’s arrival at the couple’s
door illustrates the black humor with which Nadim accepts his fate: “Well, well,
well, a speechless and obviously troubled young man, I haven’t seen one of those in a
long, long time. Well, if you have a gun and want to shoot me, go ahead or else speak up
and stop wasting my time, I am in the process of jotting more of my demonic thoughts on
profane earthly paper.”
Hasan
is less than impressed by the couple and their attempts to create a club or meeting ground
for liberally minded young people. However, the freedom that they allow their consciences
and their thoughts does impress him. Wisam, on the other hand, is impressed with their
openness and friendliness and tries to understand how such kind people can be seen as
outcasts.
While
for some people the existential and religious aspects of the book might be a problem, the
sexual issues are more likely to initially shock. If we see the writing as a response to a
conservative society, this is a statement in itself. The link between the physical and
ideological repression is clearly and effectively made. When Kindah writes about the
traditional approach to menstruation in her writings, she makes very strong points. Also
when she examines the approach to sex in society she, like Abdulhamid, himself is not
afraid to be bold:
“In
the fundamentalist-conservative society, the issue, [of sexual overindulgence] is never
dealt with openly, except of course, when it is condemned; the fact that it occurs no less
frequently in this society than in other societies… is not just ignored, but actually
hidden and denied. For to accept it and deal with it openly, would undermine one of the
central pillars upon which such a society rests.”
Whether
the reader agrees with the characters’ or the novelist’s point of view is not
the central issue it’s that they are able to express it is important. Certain issues
within the book, however, do border on the juvenile. The issue of Hasan’s ability to
sense women who are menstruating does begin to bring up issues of sexual politics but
never gets anywhere and is almost abandoned as the novel proceeds, suggesting it is little
more than a gimmick. It is sad that this becomes the central issue of the sales pitch as
it diverts from the more serious and well expressed socio-political ideas in the book.
Menstruation
by Ammar Abdulhamid,
published by
Saqi Books 2001.
© CAIRO TIMES, 10-16 January 2002
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