Naguib Mahfouz
Been reading (in translation, of course; my Arabic is pretty limited) Naguib Mahfouz' The Journey of Ibn Fatouma, this weekend—mostly in such unlikely opportunities as while waiting beside the pool in which my daughter takes her swimming lessons. Mother-in-law brought a whole lotta Mahfouz back from Egypt; figured I'd take the opportunity.
Impressions so far are mostly positive, but only so much so. Ibn Fatouma is blatantly and unapologetically a fable—a broad and unmistakable allegory from cover to cover, and I've only ever had so much patience for that sort of thing. But the protagonist is believable enough despite the artificiality of the situation to give it enough sympathy, I guess, and the parody is deft enough.
Still a bit sick this week. Sucks. Can't seem to get anything done at night before conking out.
Impressions so far are mostly positive, but only so much so. Ibn Fatouma is blatantly and unapologetically a fable—a broad and unmistakable allegory from cover to cover, and I've only ever had so much patience for that sort of thing. But the protagonist is believable enough despite the artificiality of the situation to give it enough sympathy, I guess, and the parody is deft enough.
Still a bit sick this week. Sucks. Can't seem to get anything done at night before conking out.
posted by AJM at 3:21 p.m. (Permanent Link)
