A tortuous struggle in defence of dignity
Nazma Yeasmeen Haque is moved by an Arab woman's tale
Mirage, Soheir Khashoggi, Bantam Books
One hears the story of an enchanting land comprising people who are a world unto themselves in terms of ways of living their lives, their demeanour, emotional outbursts, moral standards set by themselves, however wide the deviations might be from the edicts of religion entailing double standards and many others. A reader keeps on peeling off layer after layer of darkness only to discover a nadir of darkness sown in their character as reflected particularly in their private lives unknown to the world outside. One common factor that binds all such people in all such families is that they are all 'obscenely rich'; their men are free to do as they like while women as lesser beings are ruled by them and are the arbiters of their fate. There is dissatisfaction, resentment, fear and sorrow among the womenfolk but all in a hush-hush way. Then the reader is startled coming face to face with a rebel, a belligerent young woman who is determined to fight tooth and nail for her freedom as a human being, knowing full well the price she will have to pay for it. In other words, Amira, the protagonist, later known as Jenna Sorrel in America, risks her life along with her baby son to win freedom. She comes of an exceptionally affluent family in Al-Remal, which means 'The Sand' a name, although fictitious, yet gives hints to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. The reasons are not difficult to guess, particularly in view of the fact that Soheir Khashoggi, the author, spells out the names of many other countries that come within the purview of Islamic culture and tradition. She also takes the names of the people who are 'men of substance', of course, in their own estimation; but in a very circumspect way she refrains from taking the name of only one country. Such cautiousness is rightly understood by a sensible reader. Amira spends a childhood of fairytale, grows up under the tutelage of a Dutch governess who is her window to the world and who herself is heartbroken in her personal life; witnesses odds, discriminations, maltreatment of her mother at the hands of her overbearing, autocratic father and always suffers from a sense of insecurity for the life awaiting her. Meanwhile, she is haunted by the fate of Laila, who was her idol and was stoned to death for bearing the child of Malik, Amira's brother, outside wedlock. Her emotional syndrome gets acute soon after marriage and drives her to break away from the cruelty, raw sensuality and an all-out irrational savagery of her husband Ali, who is a prince of the kingdom of Al-Remal. She becomes a living witness to a conglomeration of vices that Ali manifests in his daily life both at home and outside that were so long absolutely inconceivable to Amira. Eventually, with the assistance of Dr. Philippe Rochon, a French family physician whom Amira loves, she ventures to escape from Al-Remal to America through an arduous journey by plane, by road and last of all by sea. She gets herself highly educated there and finds herself as a practising psychologist, a writer of best selling books championing the causes of women. Nevertheless, for her a peaceful life centering on her son Karim turns out to be a mirage, an illusion. Jenna Sorrel is distraught and devastated at hearing the news of her adolescent son Karim's going back to Al-Remal, having discovered that he is a prince of that kingdom and that his mother had lied to him all along about the identity of his father. A great fighter that Jenna Sorrel is, in this case, she feels defeated. A mother's determination is shaken and her sacrifice for so long is reduced to rubble. At this stage the reader encounters the word 'mirage' in its full impact although at the beginning of the prologue there appears two quotations using the word 'mirage', revolving around life, that apparently are in contradiction to each other in their connotations. The first one has longing for 'sweet mirage' as opposed to "…...bitter, barren truth"; the second one is a warning to guard life in such a way that it does not get transformed into a mirage that is so fragile. There is much food for thought right here and also in many other places in this book on a powerful drama of life. Last of all, having gone through trials and tribulations of various kinds and of various degrees, Amira emerges triumphant and perceives that she is ready after all this time to be with Brad Pierce, who has loved her passionately and persistently since his loving wife's death and whom Amira has turned down on more than one occasion earlier. She feels the need of his vibrant presence in her life that so far has been mired in pain and panic. Some other writers as well have been drawn to the apparently enchanting but repressive and tragic tales of women in veils in the affluent segments of societies in the Middle East. Nevertheless Khashoggi's Mirage, stands out as more reliable and therefore an authentic portrayal of Middle Eastern women's lives in their environs because of the fact that she herself hails from the region, thus validating the stories taken from the primary source. However, she deals with the sequence of events in a rather tortuous way, bringing forth a big crowd of characters with long deliberations that eventually brings about a kind of reading fatigue. Oftentimes a reader does not see the woods because of the trees. Nevertheless, this distinctive style of writing of Khashoggi does not fail readers: it makes them feel the poignancy contained therein. A moving story that demonstrates a woman's courage to not only withstand travails but also fight for victory in times of dire adversity. Soheir Khashoggi creates a great hero in the character of Amira. And in that lies her achievement. (The review is a reprint, in readers' interest).
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