Naguib Mahfouz

Farley 1 Paper Summary: Intellectual Space in Naguib Mahfouz’s Thartharah fawq al-Nīl Robert J. Farley Cited as a milestone of Naguib Mahfouz’s literary career in the Nobel Prize committee’s presentation speech, Thartharah fawq al-Nīl (hereafter referred to as Adrift on the Nile) has been described by esteemed scholar Roger Allen, “to depict the role and fate of the Egyptian cultural intelligentsia during the 1960s” (107). After all, it is a story of the nightly gathering of the educated Cairenes—a lawyer, a writer, an actor, an art critic, and civil servants—on a houseboat on the Nile, to chitchat over such topics as current affairs, popular culture, and the meaning(less) of life. Faithful servant, Amm Abduh, provides each night with kif and prostitutes, while main character Anis Zaki loads the kif in the water pipe, earning him the rank of master of ceremonies. Typical of Mahfouz’s 1960s novels, the book is shorter in length than his earlier works, affording limited space for the characters in which to work and develop. However, this is only a superficial assessment of the intellectual’s space in Adrift on the Nile; an analysis of the quantity—how much and how little—and the quality—the content and arrangement—of Mahfouz’s allotted space in the story can provide a multifaceted portrayal of the environment for the intelligentsia in Egypt under dictator Gamal Abdel Nasser. The Space on the River One cannot evaluate space in Adrift on the Nile without examining the houseboat, since this is where the majority of the story takes place. Other than providing a claustrophobic atmosphere to the novel, the houseboat also serves as a liminal space removing the characters from the land of Cairo yet still existing within its jurisdiction. Shawkat M. Toorawa observes that houseboats make appearances in previous works by Mahfouz, serving as the setting in which evil resides, although he does not agree that Anis’s houseboat necessarily serves such a function

Farley 2

Cited: as a milestone of Naguib Mahfouz’s literary career in the Nobel Prize committee’s presentation speech, Thartharah fawq al-Nīl (hereafter referred to as Adrift on the Nile) has been described by esteemed scholar Roger Allen, “to depict the role and fate of the Egyptian cultural intelligentsia during the 1960s” (107). After all, it is a story of the nightly gathering of the educated Cairenes—a lawyer, a writer, an actor, an art critic, and civil servants—on a houseboat on the Nile, to chitchat over such topics as current affairs, popular culture, and the meaning(less) of life. Faithful servant, Amm Abduh, provides each night with kif and prostitutes, while main character Anis Zaki loads the kif in the water pipe, earning him the rank of master of ceremonies. Typical of Mahfouz’s 1960s novels, the book is shorter in length than his earlier works, affording limited space for the characters in which to work and develop. However, this is only a superficial assessment of the intellectual’s space in Adrift on the Nile; an analysis of the quantity—how much and how little—and the quality—the content and arrangement—of Mahfouz’s allotted space in the story can provide a multifaceted portrayal of the environment for the intelligentsia in Egypt under dictator Gamal Abdel Nasser. The Space on the River One cannot evaluate space in Adrift on the Nile without examining the houseboat, since this is where the majority of the story takes place. Other than providing a claustrophobic atmosphere to the novel, the houseboat also serves as a liminal space removing the characters from the land of Cairo yet still existing within its jurisdiction. Shawkat M. Toorawa observes that houseboats make appearances in previous works by Mahfouz, serving as the setting in which evil resides, although he does not agree that Anis’s houseboat necessarily serves such a function Farley 2 (Toorawa 59). However, one could redefine “evil” into the context of a society and say that houseboats in Mahfouz’s work represent a place where values are not compatible with those on the land. With that said, Anis’s houseboat full of intellectuals contemplating the night away represents the “evil” in accordance with the Nasserite ideology overwhelming the land: that the intellectual should not dwell in thought, but should “transform his knowledge into productive work” (Dekmejian 104). Anis and his friends are doing exactly what the regime dictates that they should not be doing. The Space of the Stream The stream of consciousness narrative characterizes the story, while the technique of presentation often vacillates between direct and indirect interior monologues, omniscient description, and prose soliloquy. These techniques, according to Robert Humphrey, have been proven to be “capable of carrying the strange and awkward load of human consciousness into the realm of legitimate prose fiction” (41). The primary purpose behind stream of consciousness writing is both to communicate a psychic identity and express the reality of interior life. Because the mode deals in the domain of pre-speech, and forming symbols is a primary mental process, it makes sense that Mahfouz’s novel is rich in symbolism (Humphrey 36, 81). But what is the effect of expressing the identity and reality of Anis’s psyche? This places the emphasis away from the action, what one does, and onto the identity, who one is. Looking at this in social context of the Nasser regime’s emphasis on actions and productivity, Mahfouz contends the validity of interior life. As mentioned above, within the mode of stream of consciousness Mahfouz employs multiple techniques; the causal distinction among them is effectually the location of the reader, Farley 3 demonstrated by the nuances in the text. The fluctuation occurs almost instantaneously and seemingly unprompted. Consider these examples: (1) You can laugh from the bottom of a heart which no longer knows fear. And, what is more, the pleasant diversion of the civil service tribunal awaits! What is your full name? Anis Zaki, son of Adam and Eve. (2) He went out onto the balcony. Amm Abduh’s voice caught his ear; he was leading the afternoon prayer. He stood there like a mountain, dwarfing the rows of worshippers. (3) Amm Abduh came in after prayer, but found the room already prepared for the evening. Anis returned from the balcony (147-8). All within a page, Mahfouz progressively increases the space between Anis and the reader. In the first quote, classified as direct interior monologue, the reader experiences the character’s psyche without the author’s interference (Humphrey 27). This changes in the second quote when the reader still follows Anis’s stream, hearing Amm Abduh’s voice and evaluating the scene outside, but Mahfouz is now present, signified by the use of the third-person pronouns; this is indirect interior monologue. The third quote transfers to omniscient description, allowing the reader to remain in the room to experience Amm Abduh’s reaction while Anis is out on the balcony. These may seem like gradual shifts, but the connotations are remarkable. First, there is a breakdown of a paradigm in the simultaneous existence of the subjective interior monologue with the objective godlike omniscient. Secondly, by constantly relocating the reader in correlation to the action, and additionally alternating between first, second, and third person points of view, Mahfouz does not allow the reader to find solace in one place. The genius exists indeed in that Mahfouz imposes upon the reader the plight of the 1960s intellectual—abundant in frustration, lacking comfort and stability.