Aisha - the barbie doll of the story, that is, a beautiful thin teenage blonde with blue eyes. A great romantic and loves singing in her beautiful voice.

With the death of Fahmy, the political life of the nation has burst into the private home on Palace Walk. His father had meant for his children “to be a breed apart, outside the framework of history. He alone would set their course for them” (451). What larger point is Mahfouz making about the intersection of history and the family? As for the children, I really loved the eldest daughter Khadija and the youngest Kamal. Khadija is definitely relatable because she is opinionated and shows a lot of intelligence which sadly only gets to shine through her deflective use of sarcasm to cover up her insecurities. Much of her conflict revolves around being unmarried at twenty and the preference of suitors and potentials husbands to her younger sister Aisha whom I find only remarkable in beauty and not in personality. Kamal, on the other hand, is inquisitive and playful, always living in his imagination and daydreams which makes him often a problem for his family. I love him very much though because of his inclination to learn and his outward sunny disposition even if his father disapproves of him, as well as his affectionate relationships with his mother and sisters which I hope will stay the same even when he grows older. Mahfouz was aligned with the first wave of support for the Wafd party, represented by Fahmy in Palace Walk. He said, “Maybe my generation of intellectuals was the last one that really believed in democracy. . . . I was proud of our 1919 revolution and proud to be a Wafdist. But the top priority of the revolution was not democracy; it was to get rid of foreign rule. Egypt was the first country in our century to rise up against European occupation. The people, led by the Wafd, ended the protectorate but failed to gain real independence, and, in any case, the Wafd did not know how to govern in a democracy. Democracy is not deeply rooted in our culture. Egyptians would make sacrifices for independence, but they did not value democracy, and so, step by step, our system fell apart. . . . I believe that the blame really belongs to Britain’s colonialism and Egypt’s kings. But, whoever was responsible, most Egyptians had concluded by the start of World War II that democracy offered nothing—not social justice, not freedom, not even full independence. They laughed at democracy” (quoted in Weaver, 40). How might Mahfouz have felt had he lived to see the wave of protests that took place in 2011, as well as the trial of Hosni Mubarak? It was mentioned later on that there are women who are allowed by their husbands to go outside every once in a while, but Amina's husband al Sayyid-Ahmad is just too much of a conservative and controlling patriarch that wants to dominate everyone in his household. The thing that really pisses me off about this man is that he's a hypocrite. He maintains a false façade around his family while living a completely hedonistic life when he's around his co-workers and multiple lovers. Later on I began to pity him because he was always so concerned about keeping up appearances that his children have only known how to fear him and not love him. That's I think is the greatest tragedy for a father but I don't think he will ever realize this, nor is it a concern of his.Al-Sayyid Ahmad is “a man known to his family for his ferocity and anger” (220); his character is double-sided (240). How does he justify to himself the forbidding demeanor he puts on with his family, while going out nightly to enjoy music, laughter and erotic entertainment with his close friends? Is he a hypocrite? Does his relationship with his family make him difficult for a reader to like? I was mistaken to believe this is going to be an intimidating and difficult novel to peruse through (much like The Kite Runner which could be gruelling and depressing at times). I really thought this would be challenging in a sense that its exploration or themes would be dark and serious but I was pleased to have been misled by that first impression. Palace Walk is an utter delight, and a novel I can definitely say is very much character-centered in its approach and exposition. Writer Naguib Mafouz found his story's core strength and purpose by ensuring that these characters that readers would get to spend time with are always engaging and vibrant that we never stopped caring about them for a second. I may not always agree with certain characters' habits, temperament and actions but Mafouz has shown brilliant calibre because he managed to infuse just the right details concerning their personal lives that readers can't help but sympathize with them anyway. The children want to be in his favour, and their transgressions cause them considerable pain, mainly because they don't want to disappoint their father. The Palace Walk" is the first volume of “The Cairo Trilogy.” It centers on the life of an Egyptian Muslim family living through the period between the end of World War I and the beginning of the 1919 revolution against British rule, a time of dramatic change in Egypt. There’s a lot of action that keeps the story moving, almost like a soap opera. There are three weddings. Two daughters move out; a daughter-in-law moves in. The youngest boy is always in trouble with childish adventures. The middle son, a law school student, secretly take part in the demonstrations for Egyptian independence and he hands out leaflets. While his father supports the petition for independence, his son has to keep his activities secret from his father. The British military sets up an encampment in their street (Palace Walk) to clamp down on demonstrations. The Egyptians are particularly upset by the brutality of Australian soldiers. (It’s WW I, so the Australians are helping Britain hold on to its colonies while the regular British army fights in Europe.)

In Palace Walk (the name refers to a major street in the old part of Cairo), Mahfouz details the process of modernization in Egypt from the ground up through the story of a single Cairene family, the Abd al-Jawads, in the course of a single year, 1919. The implications are momentous and the tale is enthralling - at least until it weakens under the weight of its own symbolism two-thirds of the way through. Fahmy’s mother asks him to explain how he can endanger himself in the demonstrations. When he retorts, “A people ruled by foreigners has no life,” Amina argues, “But we’re still alive, even though they’ve been ruling us for a long time…. Son, they don’t kill us and they don’t interfere with the mosques. The community of Muhammad is still thriving” (374). What does this exchange underscore about the values held by Fahmy, and those held by his mother? Palace Walk captivated on all levels for me-- a delicious family saga, political upheaval in early 20th-century Cairo, scandals, unrequited love, affairs and the miserable unfairness of being a woman. In fact, I think the only reason I'm not rating this higher is because I was forced by real life to read it in stops and starts and couldn't fully appreciate it as I wanted to. Yasin, the eldest son, is al-Sayyid Ahmad's only child by his first marriage, to a woman whose subsequent marital affairs are the source of acute embarrassment to father and son. Yasin shares his father's good looks, and, unbeknownst to al-Sayyid Ahmad, Yasin also shares his tastes for music, women and alcohol, and spends as much time and money as he can afford on fine clothes, drink and prostitutes. Fahmy, Amina's elder son, is a law student, who is heavily involved in the nationalist movement against the British occupation; he also pines for his neighbor, Maryam, but cannot bring himself to take any action. Khadija, the elder daughter, is sharp-tongued, opinionated, and jealous of her sister Aisha, who is considered to be the more beautiful and marriageable. Aisha, meanwhile, is more mellow and conciliatory, and tries to maintain peace. Kamal, the baby of the family, is a bright young boy who frightens his family by befriending the British soldiers who have set up an encampment across the street from the Abd al-Jawad house; he is also very close with his mother and his sisters, and is deeply dismayed when the prospect of marriage for the girls arises. The family house, in Cairo's Gamaliya district, is in the exact location of the Beshtak Palace. [5]This cleverly-written novel is about the structure of the family unit, the role of the patriarch and matriarch, and the political repercussions that ensue as barriers are broken and roles become reversed over time. This is a political allegory, adopting the Jawad family structure to mirror the political ramifications and urban culture of a life in twentieth century Egypt. Ahmad Abd al-Jawad is the epitome of the Egyptian patriarch, a nostalgic and somewhat inspirational character, allegedly based on Mahfouz’s own father figure.

We are constantly at odds with the gender balance in this story; the seeds for the downfall of the patriarch are planted early on, with Abd al Jawad’s own son Yasin catching him in his lewd, sexualised environment of alcohol, music and women. This subversion of patriarchal dominance continues with his second son, Fahmy who refuses to sever his links with the patriotic movement, leading ultimately to his untimely and tragic death at the end of the first Part. The youngest of the sons, Kamal, continues in this disobedience to his father’s wishes when he opts to follow the path of an academic, a leader in education and enlightenment, whilst his father insists on him following the path of a lawyer, a reputable career path for his son. Contrastingly, the role of the mother, Amina, grows in strength as the narrative develops. The loyalty held by the children for their mother is made unmistakably clear from the outset of the novel, in their plot to demand the return of Amina after she is banned from the household, for visiting the shrine of al-Husayn, a formidable act of disobedience to her husband. How many important roles does Amina play in this family? What is her strategy in dealing with her husband? Is it difficult to identify with her? Why or why not?Khadija, the eldest daughter, isn't snapped up on the marriage market...she's a wild sparking woman in a world where just being a woman is grounds for suspicion of ill intent. Thus her younger sister Aisha, much more to their world's taste, has to decline a marriage proposal as their father will not countenance the younger marrying before the older. As she's more like Amina than her father, where Khadija is the reverse, the reader knows she won't die an old maid. (And she doesn't. But believe me, her arc is pretty damn dull.) Surrounded by her family -- two daughters, two sons, and a stepson -- she is content with her lot, despite the fact that her strict husband forbids her to go out alone, which means she spends almost her entire life entirely within the confines of the house. But I think Ahmed seems to have this concept of 'male dominant figure'. He thinks he must, that he is figuratively duty-bound, to show anger towards his wife and children (he isn't of that temperament by nature); to maintain a 'respectable' distance from them; to hide his sentimental side and so on.