Naguib Mahfouz’s “Midaq Alley Chapter 2”
She looked into  the mirror with an uncritical eye or, to be more accurate, with an eye that  lingered only on the parts  that  grat­ ified, the mirror returning the reflection of a slender oval face on whose  cheeks, eyebrows, eyes, and  lips, art  had  wrought wonders. She turned it to the right  and  then  to the left, her fingers working on the  braid  as she muttered in a barely  audible  voice, "Not bad.  Nice. Very nice indeed!" In reality, the face in question had  looked  out on this world  for some  fifty years  and  after  fifty years  the  world  leaves no face unblemished. Her  body was slender (or "skin and  bones," to use  the  description of  the  women  of  the  alley) and  her  chest  flat, though a pretty dress concealed its deficiencies. It was Mistress Saniya Afifi, the owner of the second house in the alley, on whose first floor lived  Doctor Bushi.  That day she was getting herself  dressed  up for a visit  to the  middle  apartment, where  Umm  Hamida resided.  She wasn't in  the  habit  of  making visits  to  her  tenants and  she  rarely entered this particular apartment other than  on the first day of  each month, to  collect the  rent.  It was a different motive  that  moved  her urgency. She left her apartment, descended the stairs, her lips moving in the invocation,  "0 Lord, grant our hopes!" and knocked on the door with her prominently veined  hand.  Hamida opened  it, welcomed  her with  an artificial smile, led her  to the guest parlor,  and  then  went  to call her  mother. The room  was small and contained two sofas of old­ fashioned design  that  sat facing one another and  in the middle  was a worn-out table  bearing an ashtray. The  floor was covered  with a reed mat.  The  woman  did not have to wait long, for Umm Hamida came at  a trot,  having  first  changed out  of  her  house dress. They greeted one another warmly, exchanging kisses, and went to sit down side by side, Umm Hamida exclaiming, "Welcome!  Welcome!  The  Prophet himself  could do us no greater honor, Mistress Saniya!"
Umm Hamida was thick-set,  plump,  and,  though in  her  sixties, healthy  and  strong,  with  prominent eyes and  pock-marked  cheeks. Her  voice was loud  and  ringing  and  when  she spoke  she seemed  to shout,  this voice of hers being her weapon  of first resort when  batdes broke out  between her  and  her female  neighbors. Naturally, she was uneasy, for when a landlady comes visiting, the outcomes may be unfortunate and danger is in the air. Nevertheless, she reassured  herself that she could deal with any situation-if good,  so be it; if bad, so be it too; she was up  to either.  By virtue of  her jobs  (matchmaker and remover, in the privacy of their homes, of ladies' unwanted hair), she was highly observant and loquacious; indeed, she was a ceaseless carrier of news who missed not a jot or tittle of gossip about  any of the persons living in the quarter or any of its households, a historian and narrator of its (generally  bad) news, and  an encyclopedia of  its misdeeds.  As  was  her  won't,   therefore,  she  looked  forward  to  an  entertaining chat  and  set about making her  guest  welcome,  fussing  over her  and praising her and  telling  her  tidbits  of news. Had  she heard the latest scandal with Boss Kersha? It was just like the ones before,  and it had reached his  wife,  who  had  had  a  blow-up  with  him  and  torn   his mande! And yesterday Husniya the Baker's Wife had hit her husband Giada so  hard the  blood  had  spurted from  his  forehead. Master Radwan el-Husseini,that good,  pious man,  had  given his wife a terrible talking to. Why would he treat her like that-he being such a good man-if she weren't a wicked  and nasty  woman?  Doctor Bushi had rubbed  up against a young girl in the shelter during the last raid and a man with a bit of decency had punched  him. The  daughter  of el-Mawardi  the Timber  Merchant  had run off with her serving man and her father had informed  the police. El-Kafrawi's mill was selling pure wheat bread on the sly. And so on and so on.
Mistress Saniya Afifi listened with half an ear, being preoccupied with the matter that had brought her and determined, no matter what the cost, to raise the subject that had been fermenting inside her for so long. Nevertheless, she kept up her end of the conversation until the right opportunity presented itself. This occurred when Umm Hamida asked her, ':And how  are you, Mistress Saniya?" at which  she frowned a little and said, "To tell you the truth,  I'm  tired, Umm Hamida."
"Tired?" Umm Hamida asked her, arching her eyebrows as though in alarm. "God protect us from evil!"
Mistress Saniya paused while Hamida,  who had  entered  at that moment, placed the coffee tray on the table and returned  to wherever she had come from. Then she continued peevishly, "Yes, tired, Mistress Umm  Hamida.  Isn't it a tiring thing to have to collect the rents from the shops? Just think, a woman such as myself having to stand in front of  a strange  man  and demand the rent!"
Umm Hamida's heart started  racing  as soon  as rents were mentioned but she said in sorrowing tones, "How right you are, Mistress. God give you strength!"
At  the  same  time,  an  important  observation did  not  escape  her and,  recalling that she'd  heard  her say the same thing several times before, she asked herself, "Why does the woman keep making the same complaint?" In fact, this was the third or fourth time she'd visited her on a day other than  the first of the month.  An extraordinary notion occurred to her that, in view of her profession, gave her special pause. Being an unparalleled  reader of people's intentions  when it came to such matters, she determined to probe her visitor's depths by indirect own. You are a woman alone, Mistress Saniya. Alone in your house, alone in the street, alone in your bed. Drat loneliness!"
The woman's words, which seemed to answer to her own thoughts, gave Mistress Saniya  pleasure,  to hide which she said, "But  what can I do  about  it? My  relatives  all have  their  own families and  I'm  only comfortable in my own  house-praise the  Lord  who  has  spared  me from having to be anyone's dependent."
Umm  Hamida was observing her craftily. Opening the last of the doors, she said, "Praise the Lord a thousand times! But tell me ... why have you condemned yourself  to spinsterhood all these years?"
Mistress Saniya's heart  fluttered as she found  herself  face to face with  what  she wanted, but  she gave a dismissive  sigh and  said with affected displeasure, "I've  already tasted  enough of  the  bitterness of  marriage!"
In her youth, Mistress Saniya Afifi had been married to the owner of a perfinne shop but the marriage had not been destined to succeed. The man had  treated  her  badly, made  her life hell, stolen her  money, and then, ten years ago, left her a widow, and so she had remained through all the intervening years because she hated, as she said, married life.
This was not simply a lie designed to cover over the other sex's lack of  interest  in  her. She had  indeed  hated  married life and  been delighted to regain  her freedom and  security, and  she had  for many years shied away from marriage and enjoyed her freedom. Then, with the  passing  of  time,  her  earlier  feelings  had  been  forgotten  and  she would  not  have  hesitated to  try  her  hand  once  more,  had  anyone come  forward  to ask for it. Hope  had  teased  her  from  time  to time, only  to fade into  the  distance,  and  in the  end,  overtaken by despair, she had abandoned any dalliance with such chimeras and determined to make the best of life as it was. And since everyone  needs something in  their life around which  their hopes  can  coalesce,  something,  no matter how illusory  or silly, to give it value, she too had found  things to cherish.  Fortunately,  those  things  were not of  the kind  that  would degrade a single woman such as herself; she simply became enamored of  coffee, cigarettes,  and  the  hoarding of  new  banknotes. She  had been  possessed  from  the  beginning of  a certain tendency to  thrift and  was  an  old  customer of  the  savings  bank,  and  her  new  hobby reinforced this,  strengthening it  and  being  strengthened by it. She kept  the  new  banknotes in  a  small  ivory  chest  that  she  hid  in  the depths  of her clothes  closet and sorted  them into bundles  of fives and tens  that  she delighted in gazing  at, counting them  and  rearranging them over and over. Since the notes, unlike coins, made no noise, there was no danger and none of the alley's scoundrels was aware of their existence,  despite  their sharp noses. This financial life of hers  brought her consolation,  and she .seized on it as an excuse,  saying to herself that  a husband was likely to rob her  of her money  as her  late spouse had  done  and  that  the  harvest  of  all those years  would  be lost to her in  the  blink  of  an  eye-despite which,  no sooner  had  a hint  of  the idea  of  marriage been  slipped  into  her heart than  she had  forgotten all her excuses and fears. Umm  Hamida,  intentionally  or otherwise, had  been  responsible for  this  remarkable transformation when  she had  recounted to her  once  how she had  found  a husband for an old widow. It was borne in upon  Mistress  Saniya  then  that  such  a thing could  be, and  the idea  quickly  assumed such control of  her  will that she threw  herself  into  its realization with utter  abandon. At one time she had  believed  herself  to have forgotten all about marriage. Now, she discovered that it was her greatest hope, one that neither money, coffee,  cigarettes, nor  new  banknotes could  take  the  place  of  She started asking  herself   in  panic how  so much  time  could  have  gone by with  nothing to show for it, how she could  have got  through the ten years  that  had  brought her  to the threshold of her  fiftieth  alone. She  told  herself  it was madness, held  her  late  husband responsible, and  determined to make  amends to herself,  and  that  as soon  as she possibly  could.
The matchmaker listened to her  affected  expressions of  distaste sagely and with contempt,  saying to herself, "You can't fool me, woman." Addressing her in reproachful tones, she said, "Don't exag­ gerate, Mistress Saniya. Your first marriage may have been  a disap­ pointment,  but there are happy marriages all over the place." Returning the coffee cup to the tray with thanks,  Mistress Saniya responded, "A wise person  does  not  struggle  against  fortune when  it frowns," but Umm  Hamida protested, "What kind of talk is that,  my dear  and  wise lady? You've known loneliness  enough! Enough!"  Pounding her flat chest with the palm of her left hand,  the woman said, with affected disavowal, "Heavens above! Do you want people  to say I've gone  mad?"
"What people? Women  older  than  you get married every day." Annoyed  by the talk of "older  women," Mistress Saniya said in a low voice, "I'm not as old as you think.  Ah, what  care can do!" "That’s not  what  I meant, Mistress  Saniya.  I don't  question  that you're  still a young  woman,  but the cares  that you're  caught  up in are of your own making."
Mollified  but  still insisting  on  playing  the  role  of  one  driven  to accept  marriage vvith neither  intent  nor desire, the woman  asked, after a hesitation,  "Wouldn't it look bad if I rushed  into  marriage after all these years of widowhood?"
“Why,  then,  did you come  to me, woman?" Umm Hamida asked herself Addressing  Mistress Saniya,  she said, "How can  following the Revelation  and  the Truth  make  you look bad?  You are  a respectable woman  in full possession of  her  faculties,  as all will  testify, and  marriage, my dear, is 'half  of religion.' God's Revelation is wisdom, and the Prophet, peace and blessings upon him, has commanded us to follow it." "Peace and blessings upon him!" exclaimed Mistress Saniya piously. "How could  it  be  otherwise, my  dear-an Arab  prophet, and 'God wishes his slaves well.'"
Mistress  Saniya  blushed  under her  mask of  rouge  and  her  heart thrilled  with  pleasure.  Extracting a cigarette from  its box,  she  said, "But  who would  ever agree  to marry me?"
Umm Hamida crooked  the  little  finger  of  her  left hand, placed it against  her eyebrow, and said as though horrified, “ A thousand and one  men!"
"One would  e enough," replied  Mistress  Saniya,  laughing heartily, while Umm  Hamida continued, "Men just love to get married; it's only afterward that  they complain. There are dozens of bachelors who want  to get married. I just have to say, 'I have a bride for you' to bring  a gleam  to their  eyes and  a smile to their  lips. 'Really?' they'll say. 'Who?  Who?'  A man  wants  a woman even  if  he's a cripple.  It's God's wisdom."
Mistress Saniya nodded her head  contentedly and said, "Great is His  wisdom!"
"Exactly,  Mistress  Saniya,  and  that's  why He  created  this  world. He  could  have filled it with just men,  or just women,  but He  created male and female and gave us brains so that we could understand what he had in mind,  so there's no getting  away from marriage."
Mistress Saniya  Afrli smiled  and said graciously, ''Your words are as sweet as sugar, Mistress  Umm Hamida!"
"May  God sweeten your life and gladden  your heart with a perfect marriage,"  responded the other. Encouraged, Mistress Saniya said,  "If  God  wills, and  with your kind help."
"I, thank the Lord,  am a woman who has been blessed. My mar­ riages never  break  up. The households I've set up! The children I've brought into  this world! The hearts I've made  happy! Just  you place your  trust in God  and  in ..."
''Your reward can  never   be  measured in  money!"  exclaimed Mistress "Saniya, causing  Umm Hamida to  respond  inwardly,  "Oh, no, you old buzzard.  It's going to have to be measured in money,  and plenty  of  it. Get yourself   down  to the  savings  bank  and  cough  up. We've had  enough of  your  stinginess." In the  firm  tones  of  a busi­ nessman  who  has  completed the  preliminaries  and  wants   to  get down  to the  matter at  hand, she proceeded, "I expect  you'd prefer an older  man."
The  other  didn't know how to reply. She wasn't  eager  to marry a young  man  and a young  man  wouldn't make her the sort of husband she needed, but she  didn't like the  sound  of  the words "older  man." Now that talk had led her gradually into intimacy with Umm  Hamida and she felt comfortable with her, she was able to say, concealing her embarrassment with a laugh, "You mean you want me to 'fast till Pm famished and then eat an onion'?"
Umm  Hamida  gave a loud and raucous laugh, her confidence in the  profitability of  the  deal  mounting. Slyly  she  continued, "How true,   Mistress!  Experience has  taught   me  that  the  most  successful marriages are  the  ones  where  the  wife is older  than  the  husband. A man  of thirty or a little over would be just right for you."
Anxiously, the women asked, "Would he agree?"
“And how! You're a beautiful woman, and a rich one."
"Really, you're too kind."
Her pockmarked face assuming a serious and concerned  expression, Umm  Hamida told her, "I'll tell him it's a middle-aged lady, with no children and no mother-in-law, well-bred and  perfect  in every way, who  owns shops  in el-Hamzawi and  a two-story house  in the alley."  Correcting what  she  thought was a slip of  the  tongue,  Mistress Saniya smiled and said, "A three-story ..." but the other woman cut her  short  with  ':Just two, because  the third  story, where  I live, will be rent-free for the  rest of  my life."
Happily, Mistress Saniya responded, "I'd  give you my eyes, Mistress Umm  Hamida!"
“God spare your  eyes! With  God's help,  everything will  turn out  perfectly."
The   other woman  shook  her  head   in  wonder and  said,  ':Just imagine!  I just came for a visit and see where the conversatios led! I'm leaving you as good as married!"
Umm Hamidajoined in her laughter as though similarly amazed, but to herself  she said, "Have some  shame,  woman!  Did you think you  could  fool me?"  Then out loud,  "God's will? Isn't  everything as He commands?"
Mistress Saniya Afifi returned to her apartment overjoyed,  though she  did  think  to  herself, "Rent-free for  the  rest  of  her  life? Wha a greedy woman!''