READING a novel by a Saudi that deals with Saudi society is usually an enjoyable exercise. I use the word “exercise” deliberately since some of the novels are so obscure and enigmatic that the reader has to spend a good deal of time trying to figure out exactly what the writer is trying to say. On the other hand, there are those writers who use real poetic vision to depict the realities and human aspects of our society in a way that mesmerizes readers. When reading Abdul Rahman Munif, for example, one feels awe and appreciation in the presence of such a brilliant writer and his undoubted talent.
Over the last few years, with the waves of openness skimming the surface of things in the Kingdom, novels have ventured into exploring and dealing with “unmentionables” — in other words, the relationships between the sexes. Writing on such subjects is a promise of sure success as people in the Kingdom are curious to see what writers have to say and those outside want to know what is going on behind veils, closed doors and the high walls of privacy and tradition. Some of these novels have been lacking in artistic vision, style and plot but they were all celebrated for revealing a side of Saudi society that was not usually spoken of or even alluded to.
In the Kingdom, there are limits and boundaries that people are aware of and which they are unwilling to go beyond. These limits have existed for centuries, from one generation to the next and we have created a special canopy, hiding our intimate and personal lives, exposing only what is safe to expose, exposing only what cannot be used against us. In true Saudi manner, we all grew up guarding our own private lives. This resulted in feelings of protection, safety and decency though some take these to extremes and hide their private lives completely. It is understood that what is hidden is everything to do with women; nonetheless, there are some who react against this and they, it seems, are eager to lay bare their own private lives and those of their friends and acquaintances.
That was basically what came into my mind after reading a novel written by Ibrahim Badi and published in Beirut last week with the title “Love in Saudi.” The novel claims to be the most daring about what the author insists is “love” in Saudi society. No need to say that his bragging was not unfounded because the book is very explicit — not only by Saudi standards but I would say by any Arab standards. Without jumping to judgments, I read the book, carefully going from one page to the next. I was looking for something to justify the title of the book but unfortunately all I found were explicit scenes of one man’s experiences with the five girls he “dated.” There certainly was a potential for a deeper novel, but the author chose to stop at a level that would guarantee him fame and money.
Come to think of it, a lot of what he wrote is realistic but he failed to explore why these things happen and why they happen in the way they do. For him “love in Saudi” is very superficial; I admit that I expected a much deeper look at relationships in Saudi Arabia — how people meet and how they form relationships with the opposite sex, how the relationships reflect the social atmosphere, and even what becomes of those relationships, some ending in marriage and others doomed from the start. Most of all I expected that because of the predominant culture of arranged marriages, the contrast would provide rich material for the readers.
I think the book will cause an uproar, a wave of condemnation and of course it will be banned, but for me that is not how it should be looked at. I still believe that candid portrayals of our society are needed more than ever. We might have to bear half-hearted attempts but one hopes that in the process, we’ll get a work that tells us more about who we really are.
