The Pleasure of Marriage: Interracial Relationships and Racism in Moroccan Society
By Tahar Ben Jalloun
What an awkward experience it can be, having seen so many reviews of a book and thus expecting to be mesmerized by it. Yet, I couldn't say anything else but that it falls short, in every possible way, of the promise within the title itself of unraveling a challenging and complex subject.
Or should I simply say that I, for sure, didn’t like this book but can’t figure out yet if I hated it?
I wish I could have said otherwise, as Tahar Ben Jelloun is a renowned Moroccan author, praised for his singular and passionate writing. There is an undeniable will throughout his body of work to honor his country’s culture, arts, and traditions. The depiction of his hometown Fez is nothing else than an open love letter.
Fez is, by the way, the starting point of his book "The Pleasure Marriage," developing a family saga and how they faced plain and brutal racism in Morocco from the 1940s to this day. The author embarks the readers upon this journey narrated by a mystic character “El Ghool” as a tale, illustrating how the aches of racism articulate themselves in Moroccan society and how they impact Black Moroccans. The narration as a folktale is another way to pay tribute to this art and to oral transmission, a nod to the famous tale "One Thousand and One Nights.
“At that time, Fez still turned its back on the world. Morocco has been under French protectorate for more than forty years now […]”
Amir is the patriarch, descendant of an old family of merchants; he entered into an arranged marriage at a young age with Lalla Fatma, with whom he had four children. He makes an annual journey to Senegal to source commodities for his spice business.
This is how he met Nabou, a young and beautiful Senegalese woman, whom he is instantly attracted to and therefore wants to contract a marriage of pleasure with—a temporary union permitted by some Islamic law (important to note that this is not a consensus and is strictly forbidden by the majority Sunni branch), which can be contracted as many times as required and easily ended. These marriages are commonly known in Fez during the time, as many men have brought back with them, from their journey, new wives from Sub-Saharan African countries—women with different cultures and religions, but most importantly, dark-skinned black women.
In a town where a specific spot was set to organize a monthly auction of enslaved Black Africans, and where slavery was inherent to the social order, those interracial marriages would be viciously and strongly rejected.
“It was they who, in the 19th century, chose the small round square between Ahabine and Chémayine in the depths of the medina to set up a market one Thursday a month, where black slaves brought back from Africa were sold.”
I was really drawn by the story up until that point. The introduction of Nabou through Amir’s lens put my mind on alert mode, as it encapsulated all the narrative that reduced black women to their bodies attire, as purely sexual beings with a huge appetite. A way for the generally white male love interest to discover sexuality in a way he couldn’t have imagined. A trope that has been used too many times in different media whenever depicting a “love story” between a black woman and a white man (even if Amir is North-African in that case), to reproduce and spread narratives or biases that can be sourced to slavery (the Triangular slave trade or the lesser-known Oriental slave trade). These same narratives that have been used to justify the mistreatment and dehumanization of black bodies, the sexual abuse, and exploitation of black women.
So, I expected those to be presented in a way that allows the readers to deconstruct them, as they are still persistent to this day and in that sense, I was disappointed.
“In her arms Karim’s father was losing his mind. She reserved sexual acrobatics for him which drained him of his energy.”
Everything was well adjusted as long as Amir’s double life did not cross one another, but everything changes when the two collided and Amir brings back Nabou with him to Fez, as the two lovebirds can no longer hide their strong feelings. A relationship that started on a passionate and sensual attraction, at least on Amir’s side, has now evolved as a true and sincere love story for both.
But what is a love story if the person you share it with does not clearly envision the threats and consequences of a racist society, can have upon his other half? Do not anticipate to which extent this same society has been impregnated with racialist ideology? That to live under such a society is a constant death threat for a dark-skinned human being?
“ Even if they shared the same continent, far from the idea of considering themselves as Africans. The Fassis were white and therefore superior to blacks wherever they came from.”
I have to admit at least that this is a clever choice from the author to approach the subject of racism in North African countries and specifically in Moroccan society under the angle of marriage. In a country where religion upholds an important position. As such, he highlights the hypocrisy of those who reclaim themselves as fervent believers but can also firmly believe in the hierarchy of races and inequality of men. Even though Islamic faith is based on strict equality of all men, and specifically of treatment and status for all spouses entering a marriage, whether monogamous or polygamous.
“If one day I were to get married, I would marry a Christian, a foreigner from a country where polygamy is prohibited, where black people do not mix with white people. Father no longer knows what he is doing, he no longer belongs to himself, he is under the influence of a tribe, you will see, one day they will all show up and throw us out! »
Nabou is mistreated by Lalla Fatma, harshly, since her arrival. Amir’s cowardice to confront his wife and fulfill the promise of a peaceful life he made to Nabou, tear up the character, forcing him to recognize his own flaws and contradictions. Eventually, Nabou gives birth to a pair of twins, Houcine and Hassan, one black like the mother and the other white like the father. Two people sharing the same DNA, will have their lives impacted by something they did not have a single control over: their skin tone.
“As soon as Amir was gone, she would give orders for the black girl’s children to eat the leftovers in the kitchen.”
From one generation to another, the vicious and vile mechanism of systemic racism is unraveling, with long-lasting and brutal effects on the development of the black characters such as Nabou, Hassan, and Salim. They are confronted with daily and blatant racism, in the family circle as much as in the outside world. In contrast, Houcine, the white son, is living a life of fulfillment and personal realization. His character is way underdeveloped in my opinion (as the author can no longer use the trope of racial trauma with this one).
It is even a shame that we do not have a closer depiction of how, as a white man, with black relatives, he operates in such society and analyzes his own awareness of those issues, or lack thereof, and his privileges.
“Famous blacks and anonymous blacks had always lived in this country, prisoner of a kind of denial or amnesia. So much racism, so much stupidity found its justification in the supposed superiority of Arabs over Africans, an old reflex inherited from colonial behavior.”
Well hell is paved with good intentions!
Tahar ben Jalloun is willing to open a discussion more than necessary about the blatant racism towards black people in North-African countries. He clearly misses the challenge to draw up an observation of its origins, from the Oriental slave trade, to this day and the auction sale in the Libyan desert for instance. Which is not an “old reflex inherited from colonial behavior” but a historic reality not discussed enough. A topic that is still, unrecognized and even denied by a vast majority of white North-African.
Addressing a topic, with all the good intention, is not enough, you have to question as an author weather the portrayal, lexical field and character development are not being trapped in the same source of oppressions that you are supposedly trying to denounce in your stories.
What is the point of addressing a human cause, if you are doing so, by only appealing to the dehumanization of the oppressed people you are supposedly supporting?
In conclusion, I would say that the Pleasure Marriage do not succeed to unravel deeply enough those issues and interrogations, in reflection of how the author himself is not well enough adjusting his own beliefs on the matter.
Giving the impression to be more focus throughout the book, on advocating for the inherent racism of human nature rather that on the systematic mechanism allowing it to be so relevant, to this day in the Moroccan society.
This point out the urgent need for more black North-Africans to reclaim their own narratives, and to be in the forefront of the conversations addressing the issue of racism in their societies.