Capitalizing on the success of the realistic Egyptian literary movement, Mekkawy Said’s second novel “Taghredat Al-Bagaa (Swan Song) dwells into similar territory other works of its ilk charted before. What distinguishes “Song from the rest is Said’s refusal to submit a particular message or concoct a grand comprehensive portrait of Egypt à la “The Yacoubian Building for instance. The challenging vision of Said’s is admirable, but not necessarily successful or efficient.
“Swan Song was shortlisted for the First International Prize for Arabic Fiction (IPAF), also known as the Arabic Booker Prize. “Song was the second Egyptian novel to be shortlisted for the prestigious prize which went to the other Egyptian entry “Wahet Al-Ghroub (Sunset Oasis) by Bahaa Taher.
Set at the dawn of the current decade, the protagonist of “Song is Mostafa, a bipolar middle-aged poet who teaches Arabic to foreigners and joins protests.
By not constantly directing the spotlight on Mostafa, Said gradually explores the lives of Mostafa’s friends from which a loose, minor social portrait of the city is drawn. The novel contains six more or less complete novellas seamed together to give the reader a panoramic view of Mostafa’s life while refraining from judging him or presenting a critique of society at large.
The novel’s prose is composed of Mostafa’s fragmented thoughts. His exhaustive descriptions, along with his personal, hurried subjective analysis and reactions to different events, give the impression of a weary man forced to think and make sense of the world around him, simply out of sheer duty.
He nostalgically recalls the good old times and curses the merciless present.
He chronicles in details his romantic and sexual escapades. With Mostafa being not much of a thinker, the reader unfortunately glimpses the city from afar, distantly feeling the ambiance of the capital. Even his microcosmic close-ups of his acquaintances are hollow, sometimes even pointless.
The strongest element of the novel is its superbly-drawn characters. Said presents a wide assortment of intriguing people, including an aging Egyptian filmmaker, a former socialist leftist turned fundamentalist Wahabi, an American Cairo-dweller, a couple of Sudanese refugees, and a Singaporean businesswoman. Although Mostafa’s perception of them can sometimes feel judgmental and reproachful, Said doesn’t pigeonhole or stereotype their actions, giving the readers sufficient space to form their own opinion.
Mostafa is not much of a character himself, mainly since Said refuses to frame him under certain lucid brands. He is always armed with opinions about politics and society, yet he doesn’t bear any thorough insights into their causes and effects. He’s always prepared with plans to juggle his two sexual relationships, yet he’s never certain what he’s getting out of them and where they’re leading him. After losing his first true love in college, Mostafa becomes predominantly occupied with sexual satisfaction.
He has long halted his endeavor for justifying his existence, for finding anything that makes his life meaningful and he’s not searching for a particular truth either.
Having no better alternative, he sustains his ghostly romantic relationship with the American Marsha for two years.
Their project of making a film about Cairo’s street children is described more like a business enterprise than a joint artistic project. When Marsha’s Sudanese servant Julia throws herself from the 14th floor after being accused of stealing money, Mostafa laments over the dead Julia while the cold-hearted Marsha and her equally pitiless friends continue their preoccupation with the lost cash.
At the end of this story, as well as at the close of each separate incident, Mostafa plunges into depression, leaving the readers to draw their own conclusions and reevaluate each event from their own perspective.
Another stimulating storyline centers on Ahmed and Shahinaz. The pair, along with Mostafa, were members of a political leftist group at university.
After the three are arrested in a protest, Mostafa decides to undertake a different path in life. Mostafa goes to work in the Gulf and the US for a while and returns to teach foreigners Arabic and poetry. Ahmed and Shahinaz, on the other hand, travel to Saudi Arabia and return as full-fledged fundamentalist Wahabis. In one of the novel’s best scenes, Mostafa unsuccessfully attempts to talk Ahmed out of his plan to quit his job as a senior engineer and sell basboosa in front of the factory he works at, calling the factory’s managers “infidels.
The most touching story of “Song involves Mostafa’s best friend Essam, a painter whose love story with Samantha, the Singaporean businesswoman, ends tragically. Samantha dies of cancer about a year after marrying Essam, consequently driving him to the edge of sanity. He locks himself inside his home and turns the house into a grave with paintings of Samantha all over its walls. Mostafa becomes helpless in front of Essam’s farewell letter, the swan song he’s enacting before his inevitable death.
He decides to settle his own scores and attempts to compose his own swan song. In one epic scene, he walks into an open road with the endless sky above him, trying to reach his lost loved ones, only to find nothing.
The point Said attempts to make, if there is one, is quite difficult to grasp.
What his stories and events represent exactly is never clear.
His prose style is short, concise and to-the-point, yet a plausible point or a binding idea of theme is nowhere in sight. The novel is not a didactic or philosophical work either. It is not a eulogy, not even a nostalgic record of the past. It is neither a dream-like vision of the future nor a cautionary tale. It is not an analysis of the present, much less a judgment of it.
If anything, it is a simple, straightforward realistic portrayal of a particular segment of the present, leaving the option and responsibility of reflection and commentary entirely to the reader.
