Passage
The rope would be after him now, while Ilish sat
safe and secure. The truth was as clear as the bottom of an open tomb.
He tore his eyes away from the paper and found the
Sheikh staring through the window at the sky, smiling. The smile for some
reason or other, frightened Said: he wished he could stand at the window and
look at exactly the same bit of sky the Sheikh was looking at so he could see
what it was that made him smile. But the wish was unfulfilled.
Let the Sheikh smile and keep his secret, he
thought. Before long the disciples would be here and some of them who’d seen
the picture in the paper might recognize him; thousands and thousands would be
gaping at his picture now, in a mixture of terror and titillation. Said’s life
was finished, spent to no purpose; he was a hunted man and would be to the end
of his days; he was alone, and would have to beware even of his own reflection
in a mirror—alive but without real life. Like a mummy. He’d have to flee like a
rat from one hole to another, threatened by poison, cats and the clubs of
disgusted human beings, suffering all this while his enemies kicked up their
heels.
The Sheikh turned to him, saying gently, “You
are tired. Go and wash your face.”
“Yes,” Said said irritably, folding up the
paper. “I’ll go—and relieve you of the sight of my face.”
With even greater gentleness, the Sheikh said,
“This is your home.”
“True, but why shouldn’t I have another place to
shelter?”
The Sheikh bowed his head, replying, “If you had
another you would never have come to me.”
You must go up the hill and stay there until
dark. Avoid the light. Shelter in the dark.
Hell, it’s all a waste of time. You’ve killed
Shaban Husayn; I wonder who you are, Shaban. We never “knew each other. Did you
have children? Did you ever imagine that one day you would be killed for no
reason—that you’d be killed because Nabawiyya Sulayman married Ilish Sidra?
That you’d be killed in error, but that Ilish, Nabawiyya, and Rauf would not be
killed in justice? I, the murderer, understand nothing. Not even Sheikh
al-Junaydi himself can understand anything. I’ve tried to solve part of the
riddle, but have only succeeded in unearthing an even greater one. He sighed
aloud.
…
Said rose, then said, as he was about to go,
“Farewell, my Master.”
“Utterly meaningless words, whatever you intend
by them,” the Sheikh remonstrated. “Say rather: until we meet again.”
Analysis
This
passage occurs in Chapter 8, at the significant turn point of the novel in
which Said discovers he killed a man he did not intend to kill. While he viewed
his killing of Ilish justified through his own warped decree of justice, he
begins to feel a greater sense of guilt for committing the same act against an
individual he did not know and did not hold any personal grudges against.
However, as the passage continues, we begin to see Said’s justification for his
crime and his attempt to ease his conscience.
The
passage begins when Said first becomes aware of his mistake. Mahfouz utilizes
an image-evoking metaphor, stating that: “the rope would be after him now”,
referring to the punishment of his crime by hanging. Through indirect dialogue,
Mahfouz demonstrates how Said believes that it would be so blatantly obvious to
pinpoint him to the scene of the murder when he compares the clarity of the
truth to the bottom of an open tomb in a visual
simile.
The fact that the Sheikh is sitting in the same
room as him allows Mahfouz to highlight the stark contrast between them. The
two characters essentially serve as foils to each other as they look to the sky,
a symbol of purity. The Sheikh is able to smile at the beauty of the break of
dawn as he is the ultimate depiction of virtue in the novel; he commits no
faults and only speaks in peace and wisdom. Meanwhile, Said is a tainted
character whose mind does not allow him to reach the same level of tranquility,
not only because he committed murder, but because he realized he killed a
potentially innocent man whose death came to no fault of his own or of his
family.
Said is so downtrodden by guilt, he considers
relieving himself of his secret and confess to the Sheikh. He comes to the
terrible conclusion that before he was in prison he was “hunted”, and now he
would be once more with no true significance to his life: no achievements, no
friends, no family. He ceased to recognize the value of life, describing
himself as a “mummy” as he carried on through life only in a biological sense, with
no lasting milestones or true ties/motivation to persist in his current world. But
perhaps he was more disturbed by the fact that his perceived enemies would have
the luxury of freedom and companionship by society while he did not.
Said
proceeded to plan an escape, but then he follows this thought with a soliloquy,
keeping Shaban Husayn in mind, almost as if he attempted to get to know him and
personally apologize to him. He claims how, as his murderer, he did not
understand the workings of fate and sympathized with him, claiming that what
had occurred was unjust. It was almost as if Said distanced himself from his
crime and acted as the judge. Said is desperate to gain some emotional grounding.
When
Said mentions “Farewell”, he signifies that he would not be returning to the
Sheikh, foreshadowing a pursuit for a suicide attempt as he murders other people
in abidance to his moral code.
I really enjoyed reading your analysis of this particular passage, especially as you highlight the main contrast between both these characters as well as identified them as foil characters. How do you think this section contributes to the readers perspective of Said, especially after committing a crime and returning to the Sheikh? Overall, very interesting read.
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