41 pages • 1 hour read
Hanan al-ShaykhA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Zahra and her circumstances are a multifaceted symbol of Lebanon. Zahra most obviously embodies the social and political oppression women faced in Lebanon in the 1960s and 1970s, developing the theme of Gender, Oppression, and Violence in 1970s Lebanon. From an early age, she must bear the weight of her mother’s secret—an extramarital affair that implies the lovelessness of Fatmé’s marriage and eventually results in a beating at her husband’s hands. Zahra then becomes victim to the many men who wish to “possess” her in varying degrees—her father wishes to control her, Malek exploits and rapes her, her brother attempts to adorn her in his many spoils of war, and Majed views her as a possession, thinking to himself when they marry, “I was, married at last, the owner of a woman’s body that I could make love to whenever I wished” (83). Zahra tries to fulfill the demands placed upon her but eventually realizes that no matter what she does, it will never be enough. In the end, she is killed by the one man with whom she finds a measure of happiness—a bleak testament to women’s prospects for sexual emancipation.
Zahra’s status as a symbol of Lebanon is complicated by Hashem’s objectification of her. Hashem treats her as an embodiment of Lebanon from the moment she arrives in Africa: “After those long years, it seemed that I began to breathe again, and even to touch the fabric of my commitment to family and homeland […] Through her I hoped to absorb all my life, both here and in Lebanon” (69). Hashem’s blatant fetishization of Zahra suggests a parallel disrespect for the country to which he claims loyalty. Hashem’s attitude toward Lebanon, like those of other partisans, is rooted in a violence and possessiveness that parallels the patriarchal control of women’s bodies. Likewise, Zahra’s alienation from herself—a response to this trauma—resembles the disintegration of Lebanon as it descends into civil war.
Zahra’s acne, and her picking of it, is a motif that develops Zahra’s complicated relationship to Lebanese society—in particular, the patriarchal expectations that weigh on her. Her father is critical of both her acne and her skin-picking, arguing that the resulting scars will disappoint Zahra’s future husband. In this context, Zahra’s skin-picking is simultaneously an act of resistance and a compulsive form of self-punishment. She does violence to herself because of her “failure” to embody sexist beauty standards, destroying her looks further in the process. At the same time, she feels ashamed of the practice, describing it as a “sickness.” The contradictions surrounding Zahra’s skin-picking are emblematic of the double bind of women’s existence; in a patriarchal society, all options are problematic.
Over time, Zahra’s skin-picking becomes a habitual response to any sort of stress: “It was as if my fingers had to go to work before I could say a word. Even when I was about to respond to some question, my fingers would begin probing” (24). In later sections of the novel, Zahra locks herself in bathrooms to pick her face when she feels trapped. This practice becomes a way Zahra refuses to engage with those who try to control her—from her parents to her husband to society at large. When the war comes to Beirut, Zahra begins to pick at her face while listening to platitudes from government officials: “[M]y hand automatically went to my face and I started to pick at my pimples” (124). Zahra feels powerless to control her own life, much less the state of Beirut, so this action substitutes for real agency.
Silence is a motif associated with fear and immobility, representing the powerlessness that Zahra, and later the citizens of Beirut, feel in the wake of violence. Zahra often meets moments of physical or emotional violence with silence while screaming inside. For example, when Hashem sexually harasses Zahra at the movie theater, she thinks, “I could not bring myself to broach the subject, but wished I could simply say, ‘please don’t ruin my visit. You’re upsetting me’” (23). A pattern like this emerges for Zahra; though Zahra internally acknowledges her needs and desires, she is powerless to change her surroundings or what’s happening to her. She even feels powerless over her silence itself, which, like her skin-picking, she describes as a “sickness.”
Silence also suggests the powerlessness Zahra feels in the face of the ongoing war. When Zahra observes young men imprisoned in the building across the street from her, she listens for gunfire—waiting for them to be executed. She thinks, “Silence reigned in our house. Silence reigned everywhere” (135). In this scene, silence once again conveys Zahra’s sense of helplessness, but now all the people of Beirut are silent with her, equally swept up in the chaos of the war.