Mohammed Mrabet (real name Mohammed ben Chaib el Hajjem; born March 8, 1936) is a Moroccan author artist and storyteller of the Ait Ouriaghel tribe in the Rif region. Mrabet is mostly known in the West through his association with Paul Bowles, William Burroughs and Tennessee Williams. Mrabet is an artist of intricate, yet colorful, felt tip and ink drawings in the style of Paul Masson or a more depressive, horror-show Jean Miro, which have been shown at various galleries in Europe[1] and America.[2] Mrabet's art work is his own: very loud and intricate, yet comparable with that of his contemporary, Jillali Gharbaoui (1930–1971.) Mrabet is increasingly being recognized as an important member of a small group of Moroccan Master Painters who emerged in the immediate post Colonial period[3] and his works have become highly sought after, mostly by European collectors.[4]
My first foray into Moroccan literature, incidentally quite by accident, and I’m treated to a wonderful book containing two stories by Mohammed Mrabet. What fascinated me most was that the stories were not written by Mrabet but told by him; in other words the good old tradition of oral narration. Paul Bowles, an acclaimed writer in his own right, translated the taped recordings of Mrabet from Moghrebi (an Arabic dialect) into English.
How much of the exquisite literature is Mrabet’s and how much is Bowles’ is unknown to me. What I do know is that theirs is a dance of eloquence merging story-telling and prose that puts the stories in this book The Beach Café & The Voice on a shelf amongst my high ranking literary delights.
The Summaries
Mrabet’s The Beach Café is about the relationship between Driss and Fuad. Where Driss is nothing but kind and helpful to the old café owner, Fuad is one of those characters common in Middle Eastern cultures who would rather talk (and spread lies) behind Driss’ back while telling him sweet nothings to his face. Theirs is an odd interaction that draws light on the subtlety in which tradition, religion and, most importantly, hypocrisy creep into human interaction. Driss’ is generous and wiser beyond his years while Fuad is greedy and lame giving the characters a juxtaposition from which to create a most interesting tale.
The Voice is a shorter, less complicated story but equally compelling. Mesud hears a ‘voice’ from birth until adulthood that compels him to commit heinous crimes every now and then. Mesud eventually tires from these commands and confides to his grandfather about the voice he hears. Mesud’s grandfather encourages him to regard the voice as evil, a djinn. Mesud then meets a girl whom the voice has sent to kill him but events take a different turn.
The Style
Paul Bowles writes these stories in a minimalist style that evoked aspects of Hemingway’s writing style and that is where the comparison ends. There’s beauty in simplicity and eloquence in the directness to which Bowles endows on Mrabet’s stories. I look forward to getting my hands on the rest of Bowles’ translations of Mrabet, which will not be easy to come by.
The themes covered in these 86 pages are familiar to me when I think of my Middle Eastern upbringing where gossip and lies can be spread like wildfire, jealousy, and greed even from those you are generous to are not uncommon, and belief in the djinn can be extreme. Perhaps this is why the book resonated with me.
I’d like to think, however, that it’s the way the prose is expressed that truly struck a chord – the way good literature always does.
This is a book that Patti Smith refers to a lot in M Train, thus my interest in it. I was incredibly lucky to find it used for a reasonable price. Both stories are good, but I did not inhabit them -- nor they me -- as Patti did. The stories were recorded and translated by Paul Bowles, which comes through in the style, I think (it's been a while since I read Bowles). Nice for a day's reading.
I really like reading some of Mohammed Mrabet’s work from time to time. His stories, set in Tangier and translated by Paul Bowles, always make me wonder if he’s actually alright in the head or if it’s just all the kif and sabsi he smokes.
The first story, Driss and Faud, made me realize that we all have a Faud in our lives. No matter how kind or generous you try to be, some people will still talk behind your back and spread lies.
The second story. Djinn are really common in our society. People believe in them. But I still don’t fully get the real meaning behind the story. He kills people and then blames it on the djinn. Like… no. You need jail, not a faqqih.
I read this out of intrigue, following Patti Smith's comments, and because this is not ny usual style of novel.
A pleasing style, - I don't think I have read a novel where the stories are told, not written down before. However, I found both stories a little disturbing
Been wanting to read this book after it was mentioned by Patti Smith in her M Train book. It reads easily. Short stories about human behavior. I liked better the second part of the book, The Voice.
The ending of The Voice was open, and I like that. "There was only silence in the house." As if the girl was the voice herself and that she disappears once again, or that the voice is no longer there, and they will live happy ever after.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Från början muntligen berättad på arabiska och inläst på kassett av Mrabet, därefter transkriberad - tolkad? - och översatt av Paul Bowles. Detta är den franska översättningen av Bowles text. Lost in translation eller ej, kom inte riktigt in i texten och den berörde mig inte alls på samma sätt den tycks ha berört Patti Smith, vilket hon återkommer till flera gånger i M Train.