Fic­tion

A Land Like You

Tobie Nathan; Joyce Zonana, trans.

By – March 29, 2021

In his lat­est nov­el, A Land Like You (short-list­ed for the Prix Goncourt in 2015), Tobie Nathan has writ­ten a beau­ti­ful and immer­sive nov­el, plung­ing read­ers head­long into Egyp­t’s unique his­to­ry and extra­or­di­nary vari­ety of cul­tures. Nathan inter­weaves the worlds of the vol­u­ble Jews from Haret el Yahud—the Cairo Jew­ish Quar­ter — with those of the Mus­lims of Bab El Zuwey­la, along with the com­plex inter­na­tion­al com­mu­ni­ties that con­nect and divide them. Pro­pelled for­ward by vivid, unfor­get­table char­ac­ters, the lay­ers of polit­i­cal, his­toric, and mys­ti­cal Egypt tum­ble togeth­er into a rich mosa­ic, encom­pass­ing a peri­od of great change from 1918 to the 1950s.

With­in the crowd­ed Haret El Yahud, Esther, an orphaned child, suf­fers a trau­mat­ic acci­dent that reshapes her future. The trau­ma leaves Esther’s rel­a­tives, and the larg­er com­mu­ni­ty, con­vinced she is pos­sessed by alien spir­its and demons. Beau­ti­ful, wild, and ungovern­able, Esther clear­ly march­es to the beat of her own drum. Her inti­ma­cy with unseen forces com­mands con­ster­na­tion and respect, dis­tin­guish­ing her in the often claus­tro­pho­bic com­mu­ni­ty of Jews who inhab­it the twist­ed paths and teem­ing dwellings of the Haret El Yahud. For Jews and Arabs alike, reli­gious mys­ti­cism and close con­tact with the spir­it world imbues their dai­ly lives with won­der and dra­ma. Urged on by a mul­ti­tude of anx­ious rel­a­tives, Esther mar­ries at four­teen, and finds deep love and hap­pi­ness with Mot­ty, an old­er man, blind from birth. Sad­ly, the love between them pro­duces no child in sev­en years of mar­riage. Her quest for moth­er­hood even­tu­al­ly results in a son, Zohar, but she has no milk with which to feed him, so she seeks out a woman in the Mus­lim quar­ter who has recent­ly giv­en birth to a daugh­ter, Masreya.

Time and dis­tance sep­a­rate the milk-twins, until chance casts teenage Zohar into a desert vil­lage, where he comes upon Mas­reya — a tal­ent­ed dancer, an enig­mat­ic beau­ty. Not rec­og­niz­ing her, and not under­stand­ing the forces that bind and sep­a­rate them, he falls deeply in love with her. Inex­tri­ca­bly linked by des­tiny, they form a for­bid­den pas­sion­ate attach­ment that con­nects them as they inter­act with pil­lars of the Jew­ish com­mu­ni­ty, the movers and shak­ers of the wartime British occu­pa­tion, and the young King Farouk among oth­er icon­ic figures.

A true tour-de-force, the nov­el is deeply embed­ded in the human­i­ty of its char­ac­ters, his­toric and imag­ined. The sto­ry holds the read­er in thrall from begin­ning to end. The nov­el is dri­ven by the many unfor­get­table per­son­al­i­ties, leap­ing from splen­did palaces of the rich and famous, to the hid­den pas­sage­ways of the Jew­ish and Arab quar­ters. At the cen­ter of it all are Zohar and Mas­reya. This mul­ti­fac­eted sto­ry is fueled by pas­sion and pol­i­tics, burst­ing with sen­su­al­i­ty, where char­ac­ters must nav­i­gate tur­bu­lent sce­nar­ios of love and death. It incor­po­rates mys­ti­cism, mag­ic real­ism, and the beliefs of a diverse pop­u­lace through gen­er­a­tions of interconnectivity.

Decades lat­er, Zohar is final­ly sev­ered from Egypt; that land of con­tra­dic­tions, beau­ty, and pos­si­bil­i­ty spits him out into an alien world. Ulti­mate­ly, his sto­ry also serves as a bril­liant metaphor for the Dias­po­ra as a whole. Like many oth­er Jew­ish exiles through­out his­to­ry, Zohar feels deeply attuned to a coun­try that ejects him nonethe­less; he is left with the sounds and scents of the lost world, and the expe­ri­ences and his­to­ries that came togeth­er in him but are almost impos­si­ble to rec­on­cile or to communicate.

This is a riv­et­ing nov­el — a must-read. Not only is it a sto­ry of great beau­ty and lyri­cism, but also it has been superbly trans­lat­ed from French into Eng­lish by Joyce Zonana, so that the essence of mean­ing — both lit­er­al and esthet­ic — reach­es the read­er in all its power.

Discussion Questions

Cour­tesy of Joyce Zonana

  1. Tobie Nathan is an eth­no-psy­chi­a­trist, com­mit­ted to hon­or­ing the belief sys­tems of diverse pop­u­la­tions. Ear­ly in A Land Like You, we learn that the Jews of Haret al-Yahud believe in mag­ic and demons. What instances of mag­ic or pos­ses­sion occur through­out the nov­el, and what do you think about them?

  2. Even while there is all this mag­ic and mys­ti­cism, there are also ter­ri­bly real his­tor­i­cal events and char­ac­ters. What did you think of this min­gling of the ​“fan­tas­tic” and the ​“real”? Which has more influ­ence on the char­ac­ters’ fates? What will you remember?

  3. Ear­ly on, Esther says about Mus­lims, ​“Our tales fill their Qur’an, their tongue fills our mouths,” and asks ​“Why are they not us? Why are we not them?” What does she mean by this? Does the nov­el bear out her obser­va­tion? How does the rela­tion between Jews and Mus­lims in the nov­el com­pare to the rela­tion of Jews and Mus­lims in your com­mu­ni­ty and the larg­er world today?

  4. Although both Mus­lim and Jew­ish cul­tures in Egypt are decid­ed­ly patri­ar­chal, the nov­el fea­tures many very strong, deter­mined women, includ­ing Esther, Oum Jinane, Mas­reya, and the kudiya. How do you feel about these women and the lives they lead?

  5. Zohar is named after one of the most impor­tant books of Jew­ish mys­ti­cism: The Zohar, trans­lat­ed as ​“the splen­dor.” Masreya’s name lit­er­al­ly means ​“the female Egypt­ian.” How do their names play a role in the sto­ry that unfolds between and around them?

  6. Why is Nino drawn, first to Egypt­ian Nation­al­ism, and then to jihad in alliance with the Mus­lim Broth­er­hood? How do you feel about his transformation?

  7. What about Joe’s attrac­tion to Zion­ism? Does it make sense to you? How do you feel about his ulti­mate fate and the way it is portrayed?

  8. Although Nino becomes an Arab nation­al­ist and Joe becomes a Zion­ist, Zohar is just ​“Zohar, Zohar Zohar.” Why do you think the author makes him so apo­lit­i­cal? Is this a flaw or a virtue for him? A prob­lem or a solution?

  9. Sev­er­al times in the nov­el, there are warn­ings about the ulti­mate fate of Egypt­ian Jews. Why do you think the author puts these warn­ings into his sto­ry, and why do you think his char­ac­ters ignore these warnings?

  10. The sto­ry is told by Zohar as an old man, liv­ing in Paris and look­ing back on his life in Egypt. How does this frame influ­ence the sto­ry you read? What does the char­ac­ter feel about his ulti­mate depar­ture from Egypt? How is the title of the nov­el significant?

  11. What did you know about the Jews of Egypt before read­ing A Land Like You? How did this nov­el influ­ence or increase your under­stand­ing of their lives and their his­tor­i­cal sit­u­a­tion? What ques­tions does it leave you with?




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