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Books – Sexuality and Faith in Bitter, Humorous Embrace by Leila Marouane


Vi è una possibilità di dirigere l'evoluzione psichica degli uomini in modo che diventino capaci di resistere alle psicosi dell'odio e della distruzione? Non penso qui affatto solo alle cosiddette masse incolte. L'esperienza prova che piuttosto la cosiddetta "intellighenzia" cede per prima a queste rovinose suggestioni collettive, poiché l'intellettuale non ha contatto diretto con la rozza realtà, ma la vive attraverso la sua forma riassuntiva più facile, quella della pagina stampata.
(Albert Einstein)


Si è tolto dai coglioni, si pensava, solo dopo si è capito che si trattava di impossibilità metonimica: difficile dire dove finiva l'uno e dove iniziavano gli altri! (Rina Brundu)

the-sexual-life-of-an-islamist-in-paris-coverby Michael Teague. Mohammed Ben Mokhtar is a self-made man who holds a high profile in the world of Parisian finance. He is also suffering from an identity crisis in which the trappings of his conservative Islamic upbringing and Algerian origins are engaged in a maddening and absurd tug-of-war with the high-class French hedonist and womanizer that he wants so badly to be. Mohammed’s psychological integrity, which erodes as the novel progresses, is just one of the intricate layers of uncertainty in which Leila Marouane has enveloped her most recent novel “The Sexual Life of an Islamist in Paris.”

In fact, there is not much sex to speak of in this novel. Rather, the sexual life referred to in the title seems to be largely the fantasy creation of the protagonist (inasmuch as we can even identify him). There are a few things that we are told about Mohammed – he had his name legally changed to ‘Basil Tocquard’ to enhance the social benefits of his naturally lighter skin, he hides his assumed western identity from his family, and, for all his aspirations to be a bon vivant and Cassanova, he is still a virgin at mid-life. The novel follows the gradual unraveling of the protagonist’s ego as a result of his trying to accommodate so many contradictory demands.

Near the beginning of the novel, Mohammed/Basil buys himself an apartment in a swanky neighborhood of Paris, and furnishes it with all the fine things that one would expect a man of his stature to have. This apartment is also to be his love nest, symbolizing his break with years of scrupulously observing devotion to family and religion. However, the break never really happens. Firstly, he is unable to escape Sunday lunches at his doting mother’s house. As the novel progresses, he shows up to this ritual event later and later until he stops going altogether, even unplugging his phone to avoid his mother’s plaintive phone calls and washing down benzodiazepine pills with expensive scotch to assuage his feelings of guilt and anxiety. The mother’s phone calls are a device used very effectively by Marouane to ratchet up the tension throughout the novel.

As if this was not enough, Monsieur Tocquard’s attempts at carousing go almost nowhere. The women he does manage to bring back to his apartment – and one in particular – refuse to go all the way, frustrating the search for manhood, as it were. The protagonist’s relationship with women in general is haunted by a mysterious figure named  Lubna Minar, a writer who steals the souls of her acquaintances in order to write about them. Indeed, Mohammed’s cousin Driss warns him that everyone she has written about ends up going mad.

In all, “The Sexual Life” is a meditation on how several different issues can converge into one big existential dilemma. In this case, religious conservatism and all of its attendant preconceptions, prescriptions and taboos, are locked in a sort of helpless dialectic with the supposed sexual permissiveness and materialism of Western European liberal society, which is played out through the moral confusion of one unfortunate man. Of course, in a novel full of sleights of hand, Marouane forces the reader to share her protagonist’s uncertainty about himself. Indeed, every chapter begins with “he said” or “he continued,” indicating that Mohammaed/Basil is not even directly the narrator of this story. Furthermore, no solid indication is given about whom this narrator might be. Can he/she be trusted with the story being told by the protagonist anymore than the megalomaniacal protagonist himself can be trusted? This structural uncertainty is delightful as it adds depth and even a great deal of seriousness to an otherwise very humorous tale about one man’s misadventures. While it is entirely acceptable to laugh at Basil Tocquard and his sexual anxieties, his dilemma nevertheless draws empathy from the reader.

The Sexual Life of an Islamist in Paris
By Leila Marouane (translated from the French by Alison Anderson)
Europa Editions, 2010

This review appears in Al Jadid, Vol. 16, no. 63, 2010.

© Copyright 2011, 2016 AL JADID MAGAZINE


Lo disse… Nietzsche

Bisogna avere in sé il caos per partorire una stella che danzi. -- (---) -- Il mio tempo non è ancora venuto; alcuni nascono postumi.

Lo disse… OSHO

Non voglio seguaci, persone ubbidienti. Voglio amici intelligenti, compagni di viaggio.

Lo disse… NEWTON

Platone è il mio amico, Aristotele è il mio amico, ma il mio migliore amico è la verità.

Lo disse… Diogene il Cinico

(ad Alessandro che gli chiedeva cosa potesse fare per lui) “Sì, stai un po’ fuori dal mio sole”

Lo disse… Joseph Pulitzer

Presentalo brevemente così che possano leggerlo, chiaramente così che possano apprezzarlo, in maniera pittoresca che lo ricordino e soprattutto accuratamente, così che possano essere guidati dalla sua luce.

Ipazia Books 2017

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