50 pages • 1 hour read
Laila LalamiA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Halima thinks about how her son, Farid, saved her from drowning during their crossing. Although some people believe her, others do not: “Crazy woman, they said, fingers tapping their temples. You have to forgive her, they said, she’s been through so much” (117). Halima also believes that Farid saved his sister and younger brother. Her husband is furious when he learns they tried to emigrate illegally, saying she should have paid him off to divorce her instead. Halima does not return home to her husband nor to her mother, who she fears will convince her to go back to her husband, but rather rents a room in a slum. She waits at the market every day to earn money cleaning or laundering for rich people. On bad days when she can’t find work, she wonders why Farid bothered to save her. One day while she is cooking dinner, Maati comes to her door, hands her divorce papers, spits on her, and leaves. Halima remembers her mother telling her that Maati had tried to marry another girl, but the girl’s parents refused. Then she remembers Farid wishing that Maati had divorced her a long time ago.
Halima thinks about the holy bleeding tree in the city that she and her mother took a trip to when she was young: “A developer had planned on tearing it down in order to make room for a high-rise, but when the workers tried to fell it, it started bleeding” (122). Halima remembers pilgrims showing up, and the city dispatching a scientist to tell people it was no miracle, just a specific kind of tree with red sap. The scientist told the pilgrims to go home, leaving garbage to sully the holy ground. Halima’s mother felt better for a while after visiting the tree, but then her arthritis flared up again when the city cut down the tree. Halima’s father had thought she was “crazy” (119). Even though Halima doubts that her mother had experienced a miracle, or that Farid is a saint who saved her, she can’t “brush off Maati’s change of heart. Only a miracle could make that man give her back her freedom […] Her son Farid had given her back her life. Twice” (124). Staring at Farid while he sleeps, she remembers another time when he saved her from being hit by a motorcyclist and believes he really is a blessed child.
A neighbor stops by the house to ask Farid to bless her son, who is on the verge of being expelled from school for bad grades. Halima suggests that the neighbor instead force her son to do his homework, reticent to have Farid bless another person because she does not entirely believe that he has that capacity. Eventually she gives in: “His first blessing and already an unwilling saint” (126). Later, Farid asks Halima why she had him bless the son, and Halima says it can’t hurt. Farid’s brother and sister mock Farid for blessing the son.
Halima makes a living selling pancakes and occasionally pastries. When she finds her neighbor’s son not studying, she drags him home. Eventually, he runs home whenever he sees her. After he passes his exams, her neighbor brings her some sugar and stares in awe at Farid. Halima maintains that the son just worked harder and regrets the situation, believing other people will come bother her now. Farid eats some of the sugar with his siblings, reminding Halima that she said it didn’t hurt. A few days later, Halima’s mother visits, surprising Halima while she makes pancakes. Halima’s mother reprimands her daughter for not letting her see her grandchildren and gives them candies. She focuses her attention on Farid, who gets uncomfortable and goes outside. Halima chastises her mother for not going to the doctor to get her arthritis medication, but Halima’s mother says she obviously doesn’t care about her because she has not had Farid bless her. Halima comforts her mother, telling her she’ll pay for the medication. Her mother is astounded at how delicious Halima’s pancakes are.
Faten thinks about her favorite client, Martín, a teenage university student who treats her nicer than her other clients although he is not regular about his visits. She knows that he gave her a real name because she heard his father yelling at him on the phone once. Faten doesn’t press Martín about his studies, “for she feared it would bring back memories of her own college life back in Morocco and she didn’t want to think of that time in her life, when the world still seemed full of promise and possibility” (133). She looks forward to Martín’s visits because she never knows when he’ll show up, distracting her from the bitter arguments of the other immigrant sex workers. He reminds her of a neighbor she used to have a crush on, and Faten remembers how men started paying attention to her once she grew large breasts. She remembers living in a slum with her mother and joining the Islamic Student Organization when she was in school. She made a negative comment about the king and her imam told her to flee the country, so she did. Now she thinks about how no one tells her what to do anymore.
Martín is her last client after a good night of money, and he asks if they can just talk. She tells him where she is really from and other surface-level things about her life to answer his questions, and he refers to parts of her body as pieces of food. Martín says that his father is a fascist retired army lieutenant that comes from a line of military men. Martín offers to help Faten with immigration papers. Faten “wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or say thank you […] she had long ago learned that nothing was free” (138). He asks her some more basic questions and then starts feeling her up. Out of condoms, she looks for them in the glove compartment and finds a Qur’an. They have sex, much to Faten’s disappointment, as she realizes that Martín is no different from her other customers.
Faten goes home to her apartment that she shares with her nanny roommate, Betoul. Betoul flies home once a year and pretends she has a lot of money, but lives “like a pauper” (142) the rest of the time as she regularly sends money home to help her family. Betoul chastises Faten for leaving the door unlocked last night, and Faten knows Betoul would never live with her if she had another option. Betoul makes a homeopathic remedy for the child she nannies for, which Faten mocks, maintaining that the wife will probably laugh at Betoul or throw it out. Betoul makes a retort about Faten selling her body. Faten remembers the rumor she heard about what Betoul did to her husband back home when she found out he was cheating on her. She suggests Betoul move out if she wants.
Unable to sleep, Faten thinks about her life back home as a student and about her rich friend Noura, who had the luxury of making choices about things in life, like faith. Faten tries to stop thinking about Noura, whose father pulled strings to get her expelled from university. Faten takes a valium and remembers it is Eid, thinking of the time she got to spend with her mother over the holiday. She watches television until she falls asleep.
Martín shows up a week later, again asking her questions about her life before she became a sex worker. “This time, she had no illusions about what he wanted” (147), and she lies to him to make herself fulfill his fantasies. She remembers having sex with one of the guards when she was caught emigrating illegally so that he would let her escape. She remembers how he called her the wrong name. She continues to fulfill Martín’s Arabian nights fantasies with her false stories of growing up in a harem. He says that Arab girls know how to be dutiful in pleasing men. Faten gets angry at him for assuming he knows about her and her culture. He offers to help her again with immigration, but she refuses. He pays her, and she tells him that from now on, talking will be extra and suggests he find someone else next time.
Betoul avoids Faten for nearly two weeks. Faten decides to cook a feast for Eid, even though she doesn’t “know how to make the dishes she’d craved as a teenager” (150). When Betoul gets home, Faten asks about her work. Faten does not work tonight in celebration of the holiday, offering Betoul the food she made. Betoul eats it, although she admits it is too salty: “Faten smiled, feeling grateful for the truth” (151).
Aziz thinks of his fantasies that he has had over the past five years of driving home to his parents and wife in Morocco rich and laden with gifts. However, the reality is that his father has died and the only car he has would not make the trip. Similarly, “he also had trouble visualizing his wife’s face” (153). Aziz is stressed on the flight home and can’t eat. He is worried he won’t be allowed back in Spain if his papers are not in order. When he arrives at the airport, he thinks about his trip over to Spain on an inflatable boat: he had been caught, then crossed again a few days later; he worked a farm job before heading to Madrid to work in a restaurant.
The size and grandeur of the Casablanca airport impresses Aziz, although he is nervous going through customs. He lies to the official that he works in an office, and the officer chastises Aziz for not bringing his national ID with him. The official goes through Aziz’s belongings, hassling him in the hopes that Aziz will bribe him, but Aziz “didn’t want to play that game” (156). He takes a train to his old neighborhood, where he is surprised to see the number of girls wearing headscarves. He is nervous and hungry walking through the streets, but his wife and mother are excited to see him. His old apartment looks dark and rough, although some things are new. His mother and wife ululate to announce his arrival, and Aziz contemplates how small and thin his wife looks. They have tea and his mother comments on Aziz’s appearance. He feels guilty when he notices how old his wife’s hands have gotten, believing he has not sent them enough money. He shows his wife and mother the presents he bought for them, including a new sewing machine even though his wife bought one just last year. Aziz maintains that his one is better because it is electric.
Visitors come to see Aziz, asking him questions about Spain. He talks about his apartment and his job, “but he didn’t talk about the time when he was in El Corte Ingles shopping for a jacket and the guard followed him around as if he were a criminal” (162). His wife’s mother does not approve of Aziz staying away from Zohra, and Zohra informs Aziz that Lahcen moved to Marrakesh because he could no longer sell phone cards as everyone has cellphones.
Aziz’s mother leaves that night to allow Zohra and Aziz some time as a couple. Zohra stays busy, and then Aziz talks about how he has not yet saved enough for a business. He has started the paperwork to bring Zohra to live with him and they go to bed, but Zohra refrains from touching Aziz, so he goes to sleep. Aziz is awakened by the muezzins’ calls in the morning but goes back to sleep. He wakes up again to his wife making breakfast and is confused that his mother is taking blood pressure pills: “He struggled to think of something else to say” (166). A neighbor girl comes to the door and jumps into Zohra’s arms, which also confuses Aziz. On their way to visit Aziz’s sister, Zohra asks who will take care of his mother if she goes to Spain and worries that she doesn’t speak Spanish. Aziz tries to reassure her, but she asks him to come back to Morocco.
They go to Aziz’s sister’s house, and Aziz is surprised at the number of internet cafes. The smell of burned rubber irritates his nose, and Aziz is shocked to see his sister wearing a headscarf. He questions his sister about it, and Zohra comes to her defense. His sister tells Zohra to go to Spain with Aziz, and Zohra’s resolve weakens. That night they have sex, and Aziz “was ashamed to have cheated, but, he reasoned, he had been lonely and was only human” (170). He fantasizes about Zohra acting like some of those other women, and he pulls out of her to shift her on top of him, but she panics and so he resumes. He realizes she wants a kid but he cannot yet afford it and thinks he should use a condom next time.
Aziz visits his father’s grave with Zohra, remembering when he got the letter with the terrible news. He remembers calling his wife but his father had already been dead for a month. Aziz repeats out loud: “I wish I had been there’ (172). After, Aziz takes a walk and visits a café, realizing that there are no women at all. He realizes all the men are unemployed and leaves a good tip. He visits with all of his relatives and neighbors, bored of the lack of excitement his old life offers. The night before he leaves, he gives Zohra the money he has left, promising to come back. Zohra asks about the immigration papers, then starts crying. Aziz feels conflicted, unable to imagine Zohra with him in Madrid as she is used to family and friends, while he has his own habits. He and his suitcase both feel lighter when they are unencumbered with Zohra and her needs.
One slow afternoon, two young white women come into the shop where Murad works. Murad has been reading: “He’d caught himself editing the author’s prose” (176), unable to concentrate on the story. He thinks about his visits to the American Language Center where he checks out books with his expired membership and his girlfriend who works there. Murad puts down his book, watching. The women debate what the submissive one, Chrissa, should get her cousin for her wedding, their attention landing on two wooden tablets Murad purchased himself that are unique because they have been written on. Murad imagines the life of the boy who wrote on them. The leader, Sandy, cautions Chrissa not to show too much interest, “or they’ll jack up the price” (180). Chrissa wanders around the shop to look at other merchandise. Sandy says she wants to see Paul Bowles’ house, making Murad wonder if he’ll ever get away from the Beats. Murad picks back up his book, hoping that his less responsible coworker Anas, who barely speaks English, will take care of the customers. The women talk about Bowles, who Chrissa’s never read. Murad eavesdrops, pretending he doesn’t understand what they’re saying.
Murad remembers his father telling him stories as a child:“He remembered the stories only in fragments […] Realizing this, he felt at once angry and sad, as though he had just discovered that a part of him was missing” (183). His father always began the story the same way: “Once there was and there was not” (183).
Chrissa shows Sandy a Berber rug, and Sandy tells her she seems too interested. Anas intercepts the women, and Sandy is distant towards him. Murad remembers when he returned to Tangier the year before after his failed immigration attempt, avoiding people who knew of his failure. He thinks about how he repeatedly asked his mother for money so that he could try again, but she started ignoring him. He eventually got the job at the shop, but still wondered what his life would be like until he realized “he’d been so consumed with his imagined future that he hadn’t noticed how it had started to overtake something inside him” (186). Anas talks to the women in Spanish about the rug, and Chrissa translates for Sandy. The rug makes Murad remember a story about a vengeful rug weaver. Anas goes to get the women tea, and Murad makes small talk with them about Bowles before asking if they want to hear a story.
Murad tells the story of the rug weaver, whose beautiful fiancée was kidnapped and forced into marriage by a Sultan. The rug weaver “turned to his tapestry and poured his sorrow into it” (191), depicting his lost love in all her beauty with a knife. Everyone came to see it, including the Sultan, who hung it up in his bedroom. The Sultan told his wife he would execute the rug weaver in the morning, and his wife seems unaffected, but later steals into his room at night with a knife. When the Sultan cries out, she retreats into the tapestry; the Sultan’s advisors believe he has gone mad, so they leave. The wife kills the Sultan.
The women appreciate the story as well as the rug, which Chrissa decides to buy, much to Sandy’s dismay. Murad bargains with the women over the rug, eventually getting the price he wants. Anas rings the girls up and Murad closes his book: “[H]e was already lost in the story he would start writing tonight” (195).
The second section of the book mirrors several of the issues and themes discussed in the first section of the novel. However, these issues are mediated by the reality of the various characters’ situations. Instead of the buoyant hopefulness that many of the characters felt before the trip, the characters now possess a sort of qualified hope: they acknowledge that the journey irrevocably changed their lives, yet they also seem to admit that their futures did not shape up to look exactly how they had imagined them. Instances of hopelessness do arise, especially in the characters whose trip was not successful, such as Halima. At the beginning of her story, Halima wonders why Farid bothered to save her, as she feels as though she is back in the same situation from which she tried to escape. However, Halima seems to have found her place within Moroccan society, eventually obtaining freedom from her abusive husband who grants her a divorce. She is able to make her own way as a contributing member of her community, a fact which empowers her even though she does seem upset that her crossing to Spain was unsuccessful. In keeping with this strain of qualified hope, she believes Farid to be blessed but not necessarily endowed with magical powers, understanding how both she and her son fit into their surrounding community.
A sense of hopelessness also plagues Faten, whose sex work makes her not want to think about the time she spent at university. Faten’s life also did not pan out as she expected, even though she was eventually successful at emigrating to Spain. When the Spanish civil guards catch her, she realizes she must sell the one thing she possesses—her body—in order to make a living in this new land. She speaks of the other girls she works with as being mostly comprised of immigrants, indicating that even for those who successfully get to Spain, the opportunities offered to women are incredibly limited. They often must turn to the only thing they are able to carry with them in order to make it in this supposed land of opportunity, demonstrating the author’s inherent critique of global patriarchy.
The author’s discussion of women is much more in depth in this latter section than in any of the previous stories. Here, the reader sees the invasive misogyny evident in even the most mundane comments from male characters. Maati, Halima’s husband, claims that Halima is “crazy”(114) for running away instead of paying him to divorce her and spits on her, demonstrating her social positionality as his inferior. Halima exists specifically as Maati’s wife, his possession; only when she is able to break free of patriarchal bonds can she become a self-actualized woman. Similarly, Faten seems to exist merely as a series of body parts attractive to the hungry eyes of her male customers, as evidenced in her interactions with Martín, who lists all of her body parts as food to be consumed. Faten has already spoken of how all the men treat her and the other girls as interchangeable, so it is not much of an inferential leap to assume that Martín’s viewpoints concerning Faten can be expanded to encompass the male gaze. However, by remembering her past—especially the time spent with her mother—Faten is able to supersede the male gaze or, at the very least, remove herself from it. She obtains agency through her past, allowing her to temporarily evade patriarchy’s societal injustices.
Aziz and Murad also struggle with issues from their past in the latter section of the book. Aziz essentially exists at as Halima’s foil: his success at emigrating to Spain is mitigated by his lack of connection to his Moroccan community, including his wife. He struggles with not remembering what his wife even looks like and seems unaccustomed to Moroccan society when he comes back from Spain, as though he cannot wait to leave. He mentions cheating on his wife several times, and the distance in their relationship is palpable in the way they interact with one another. Even though Aziz is technically a success story for his neighborhood, he finds himself bored with his community, as he no longer fits into his relationships there. In fact, the new life he has built in Spain has mostly erased his connections to his past. In this way, the author seems to be implying that successful immigration can only occur with the erasure of one’s personal history, a harsh price to pay for the financial gain.
In contrast, Murad was unsuccessful in his emigration to Spain; however, he remains connected to his past by carrying on the stories he was told as a child. Murad realizes that this hope for financial security afforded by a new land necessitates the erasure of his past, a price he—unlike Aziz—is not willing to pay. In fact, Murad desperately clings to his history and memory, realizing that these are both integral aspects of himself. It is only when Murad accepts himself as part of the Moroccan community that he finds his calling as a storyteller, an interest which brings him great joy and a previously unfelt sense of fulfilment.
By Laila Lalami