Ibn Shalabi, like many Egyptians, is looking for a job. Yet, unlike most of his fellow citizens, he is prone to sudden dislocations in time. Armed with his trusty briefcase and his Islamic-calendar wristwatch, he bounces uncontrollably through the Fatimid, Ayyubid, and Mamluk periods, with occasional return visits to the 1990s. Along the way, he meets celebrities such as Jawhar, the founder of Cairo. He also encounters other time travelers, including the historian Maqrizi. In every age, he is forced to match wits with ordinary Egyptians from all walks of life. After his cassette recorder fails to impress a Fatimid caliph, he finds himself trapped in the 1300s. He joins the barbarians, cannibals, and prisoners of war who have taken over the monumental Storehouse of Banners and set up their own state in defiance of the Mamluk order. Forced to play the role of double agent, Ibn Shalabi is caught up in the struggle between the rebels and the ruling dynasty.
You have arrived in the Non-Sequitur Capital! Maybe it's the translation. I see many people who wrote reviews in Arabic liked the book, but in English it's deeply incoherent. I like all sorts of difficult novels like those of Milorad Pasic and Antonio Lobo Antunes, but they all have a direction; you follow the story, whether this story has the usual lines or goes along weird or difficult pathways. But I read 100 pages of this one and could not figure out what anything meant, nor what the characters were talking about. At times it seemed just to be random sentences. It was all vague and seemingly lacking in any direction whatsoever. The pickle and sweet seller slips and slides through Egyptian history, though for what purpose it is not at all clear. It just happens. I admit, I might not be a genius, but I do like books that I can understand, whose humor speaks to me. Perhaps I don't know enough about Egyptian history. It's no doubt a humorous book, maybe even a satire, but I might refer you to a very obscure book called "Chinese Sex Jokes in Traditional Times" by one Howard Levy. Back around 40 years ago I ran across that book, opened it and read the first joke. I failed to get it. "For an explanation, see the back of the book," it said. I looked. Nope, still didn't get it. I checked another one, still no go. I decided that I was culturally-challenged when it came to Chinese sex jokes and I fear the same may be true here though I hasten to add we are not talking about sex jokes. The oddball, time-traveling hero (no Tardis) says at one point, "God save you sir, I may seem like a strange bird to you, but when I put my mind to a problem why---with the help of God and with blessings on the Prophet--I bust it wide open." Unfortunately, maybe because I'm not a time traveler, I couldn't bust this book wide open. Sorry to the author, and to readers who dug it. But I have to call'em the way I see'em.
Sigh. I think the awkwardness, and yet correctness, of the title---The Time Travels of the Man Who Sold Pickles and Sweets---will give you some idea of the translation. Some funny stuff, though. Khairy Shalaby = funny guy.
It had some moments. I'm wondering if the text doesn't translate well to English, or if it's just too whimsical for me, because it was largely incoherent.
I picked The Time-Travels of the Man Who Sold Pickles and Sweets by Khairy Shelby because of the translator, Michael Cooperson who also translated one of my favourite books Impostures. I decided to read it this month as part of reading a month of time-travel books.
Like Billy Pilgrim, Ibn Shalaby finds himself being unstuck in time. As he wanders Cairo, he finds himself slipping into moments of the city鈥檚 history, from its founding to various rebellions and riots. He seems to have little control, barrelling into different times and situations. Sometimes he can sense where he鈥檚 going, occasionally seeing the future as layers above him, like a layers in archeology, going as far as tickling the feet of the future people walking above him. He鈥檚 not the only one, there are historians who wander in time but they seem to have more control than Shalaby. It鈥檚 surprising how many non-time-travellers accept the arrival of Shalaby and have met other time-travellers before - indeed, the whole essence and mechanics of time-travel are rather fuzzy.
Naturally they are fuzzy, like most of the time-travel books I鈥檝e read, the travel is a tool to explore other elements. This book uses time-travel to explore ideas of psycho-geography and to create a picture of Cairo through the ages and the people who walked through it. Interestingly, the picture of the Egyptian people, specifically the 鈥楤rothers of Shalaby鈥�, the vendors and kiosk-people, are downtrodden followers of every herd, invasion and coup. He traces this as a result of them being the serf class in the days of the Pharaohs and that this inherent servility is the secret of their survival through centuries of political torment.
One source of jokes is how the historical figures are far earthier than hagiographic history has painted them, with 鈥楽al鈥� Saladin being very chill, a murderous Sultan whose a 鈥榗utiepie鈥� and warring factions wondering 鈥榳hat are the Mamelukes up to these days?鈥�. These mainly occurred in the first half of the novel where Shalaby wanders about, in the second half, he gets stuck in the 13th century, holed up in a makeshift prison with the beggar king, Emir Khazaal.
The fact is, that my knowledge of Egyptian (and particularly Cairo) history and geography is not very extensive. Had this book been written about London and using English figures, I鈥檇 have absolutely loved it. The set up is good, the intention is great and there was a clear and distinct comic sensibility but my ignorance meant that I could only get a semblance of the pleasure it could have given me.