“For Ania, who came up with this title and has wings”
Every month, I would like to present you with a story about Morocco and my observations from the three years I spent living and working in this country. I am currently writing a guide to Morocco’s imperial cities, and while preparing material for the book I found many interesting details that are too personal to include in a guidebook. My tourists encouraged me to write down these stories; as their guide, I introduced them to the culture, customs and atmosphere of this extraordinarily exotic and colourful kingdom. The controversial title was devised by my friend, an extraordinary person to whom I dedicate this entire series. I wish you pleasant reading and send my greetings to the readers of the IstotneInformacje.pl portal.
The most beautiful harems exist in men’s minds. It is one of the most erotic male fantasies. Painters, poets and directors created an image of a hidden chamber within palace walls, filled with the most beautiful women waiting in amorous rapture and excitement for their one and only master. Anointed with fragrant oils, half-naked, without jealousy toward one another, they dream only of bringing pleasure to their ruler.
Was it really like that? We do not know, and that is why this phantasmagoria can be so beautiful.
I discovered a completely different harem. In the book—the autobiography of Moroccan feminist Fatima Mernissi, “Dreams of Trespass: Tales of a Harem Childhood”¹. I was shocked when, after the first pages of the story, it turned out that Fatima’s father had only one wife, just like his brothers and father. They all lived in one house. Thus, the women of the harem were the brothers’ only wives, as well as their unmarried sisters and cousins. A strict hierarchy and spheres of influence prevailed there. The most important was the woman connected with the oldest man in the family: the grandmother, followed by the mothers—the sons’ wives (the most important wife was the wife of the eldest son), widows, and finally the unmarried women: single women and divorcees. They could leave the house-harem only with the special permission of their men.
I found no titillation or erotic story in this book, only many accounts of the coming-of-age of a little girl whose parents educated her well so that she could go to university.
Today Fatima, born in a harem in Fes, as the first sentence of her book says, is a world-renowned sociologist and conducts her research at Muhammad V University in Rabat. Her autobiography has been published in several languages.
In her novel, Fatima also describes another harem, where her maternal grandmother lived. Her harem was a rural farm, and she was one of eight wives. Just as the author’s mother dreamed of moving freely around the city and leaving confinement, her grandmother—who could travel around the extensive farm without difficulty—dreamed of having her husband all to herself.
I will recount one of the stories described in the book to give a closer look at life in a harem, and especially at the relations between a husband and his wives. It is a story from Fatima’s grandmother’s farm.
All the wives lived together in perfect harmony, except for the wealthiest one, who was haughty and disliked for that reason. One day, Fatima’s grandmother, to put the aristocrat in her place, gave one of the fatter geese her name. The offended woman immediately ran to her husband to complain.
His lot was not an easy one. Despite ruling over his wives, he was obliged to exercise considerable diplomacy in resolving such conflicts. He went to the disobedient wife to persuade her to stop calling the goose by the offended wife’s name. Fatima’s grandmother did not intend to give in easily. The Koran, the Holy Book, was on her side; it said nothing about naming animals after people. Grandfather felt he was losing the battle, while in the next room the furious wife continued pacing, and she certainly would not be interested in such an explanation. Grandfather therefore decided to remind himself of a few silver bracelets that he could offer the clever grandmother in exchange for changing her decision. That changed everything. Fatima’s grandmother promised that, although she would not change the goose’s name, she would pronounce it only in her thoughts—of course, in exchange for a few bracelets.
The entire book is full of such stories, as well as little Fatima and her cousin Samir’s search for answers to many adult questions and their exploration of the boundaries that may and may not be crossed. For Fatima, one such boundary was the front door of their house.
When she and her cousin began to grow up, she noticed that a tangible, though invisible, boundary was emerging between them as well. Samir began to be right in all their discussions, while whatever she said carried little weight.
The little girl took this problem to her aunt. Her aunt only told her that when boys and girls grow up, a boundary separates them, making it completely impossible for men and women to understand one another. This causes much suffering for both sexes, but that is the established order. This boundary marks the line of power. On one side walk those who possess it; on the other, powerless beings. Fatima wanted to know which side she was on. Her aunt’s answer was simple. “If you cannot leave this place, you are on the side of the powerless.”
¹ Bertelsmann Media Sp. z.o.o. Warsaw 2001 (Rêves de femmes. Une enfance au harem. Albin Michel 1996)
Grażyna Hanaf