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Fatema MernissiA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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Fatima Mernissi begins her memoir by stating that she was born in a harem in Fez, Morocco, in 1940. Fez is located 1,000 kilometers south of Madid, a “dangerous” Christian city, and Fatima’s early years are defined by the hududs, or “sacred frontier[s]” (1), of her world. While the Christians are breaking one hudud by invading Fez, even building a new city they call the Ville Nouvelle, Moroccan women of the 1940s are also breaking hudud by refusing to conform to old, limiting traditions.
Fatima explains that while Spanish Christians have invaded northern Morocco, the soldiers just “outside [her] door” (2) are Christians from France. The two countries are at war with each other, and the dividing line between northern Spanish Morocco and southern French Morocco is another frontier—an “invisible line in the mind of warriors” (2), which Fatima has never visited because Moroccan women aren’t allowed to travel.
At the age of 3, Fatima begins to attend Koranic school, where she is again taught to keep within the hudud—in this case, whatever rules and boundaries are set by the headmistress. Since that time, Fatima says, her “life’s occupation” has consisted of searching for the frontier—the “geometric line organizing [her] powerlessness” (3).
Fatima goes on to describe her home: a central courtyard with a marble fountain, surrounded by four salons, one of which houses Fatima’s family. Directly across from Fatima’s salon—where she lives with her mother, father, sister, and brother—is her uncle’s salon, filled with his wife and seven children. Because Uncle is the firstborn son, he would typically live in a larger area, but Fatima’s mother insists that the two salons must be exactly the same size. In fact, Fatima’s mother despises harem traditions in general and demands that she receive the same treatment as Uncle’s wife despite the other woman’s higher status.
Fatima’s paternal grandmother, Lalla Mani, who “appreciate[s] being respected”—i.e., “left alone” (7) without her dirty grandchildren underfoot—lives in the salon to the left of Fatima’s. And the salon on the right side is “the largest and most elegant […] of all” (7), where the men have their dining room and the cabinet radio. Although the men supposedly hold the only key to the cabinet, the women somehow “manage” (7) to tune in to Radio Cairo when the men are gone. When Fatima and her cousin Samir accidently reveal that there’s “an unlawful key going around” (7), the men search for the key but never find it. The women call Fatima and Samir “traitors” (8), and Fatima learns a valuable but perplexing lesson from her mother: that some words must be kept secret, even if they are true.
Fatima goes on to describe her relationship with her cousin and friend, Samir. The two children were born on the same day, and though a male child would traditionally be met with greater celebration, Fatima’s mother ensures that Fatima’s birth is honored with the same fanfare as her cousin’s. Samir, who is the more rebellious of the pair, is always “stag[ing] his mutinies against the grownups” (8), but Fatima’s mother tells her daughter she must “create” her own “strong personality” (10) as well. Fatima can do this, Mother says, by becoming “responsible for others” (10). Fatima ends the chapter by stating that the “radio incident” showed her the importance of words, of speaking thoughtfully and “chew[ing] [her] words before letting them out” (10).
As this chapter begins, Mother discusses the tales of A Thousand and One Nights with Fatima, and particularly the frame story of Scheherazade and the king who planned to execute her. Mother says that after the king found his wife in bed with a slave, the king took revenge by marrying a new wife every night and beheading her in the morning. When Scheherazade married the king, she told him an “entrancing, captivating tale” (13) every night, but never finished her story before morning, so the king wouldn’t kill her. After 1,001 nights, the king had fallen in love with Scheherazade and they had two children, and he couldn’t “imagine living without her” (15). Significantly, Scheherazade’s stories are not silly, “innocuous” fantasies, but tales that “bring the King to see himself” and motivate him “to change and to love more” (15).
As a result of Scheherazade’s story, Fatima learns that her personal power, and, as her mother puts it, her “chances of happiness,” both “depend upon how skillful [she] became with words” (16). Fatima also witnesses the power of storytelling from her aunt Habiba, who lives in the harem’s upstairs rooms where “troubled” (16) female relatives come to stay. Aunt Habiba, who was abandoned by the husband she loved for no reason at all, has “hanan,” or an “unconditionally available tenderness” (17) that draws Fatima to her. Samir and Fatima look forward to Aunt Habiba’s “Friday storytelling sessions” (18) and sometimes even spend the night, allowing their aunt’s stories to take them to strange lands—and Fatima yearns to become an “expert storyteller” herself, one who can “talk in the night” (19).
Fatima begins Chapter 3 by describing another hudud: the front gate of the harem, guarded by the doorkeeper Ahmed, a place where “you needed permission to step in or out” (21). As Fatima explains, the harem gate separates women from male strangers, thus cementing her uncle’s and father’s “honor and prestige” (22). While children like Fatima can leave the harem, adult women cannot. Fatima’s mother dreams of walking the “deserted” city streets of the “early morning,” while her aunt tells a story of a woman “who could fly away from the courtyard whenever she wanted to” (22).
In addition to the harem gate, another frontier in Fatima’s world is the line separating the old city, the Medina, from the French Christian’s new city, the Ville Nouvelle. The harem is located close to this dividing line, so Fatima can see that the French city has large streets, cars, and bright lights, while Medina is full of “narrow, dark, and serpentine” streets “that cars could not enter” (23). Fatima realizes that the French stay in their cars because they are afraid—a stunning insight that “the powerful ones who had created the frontier were also the fearful ones” (23).
However, these same “fearful” soldiers are also capable of “terroriz[ing] […] the entire Medina” (23). Mother tells Fatima that in January 1944, when Fatima and Samir were 4, the Moroccan king asked the French for independence, and in response the French attacked Medina. Samir and Fatima saw “the blood-soaked corpses” (24) and suffered nightmares for months, although Fatima no longer remembers this.
Fatima also talks about these events with her maternal grandmother Yasmina, who lives on a farm about 100 kilometers away, and whom Fatima visits once a year. Yasmina tells Fatima she’s an “expert on fear” (25) and will show Fatima how to overcome it.
As the chapter ends, Fatima also mentions that her grandmother has a duck she’s named after Thor, her “most hated co-wife” (25). Lalla Thor, the first wife of Grandfather Tazi, is rich and doesn’t have to do chores like the other wives—a fact Yasmina considers unjust because “Allah said” that all Muslims are “equal” (26). Yasmina tells Fatima to “never accept inequality” (26)—and she has named her “fat white duck” (26) Thor in rebellion.
When Lalla Thor discovers that Yasmina calls her duck Thor, the first wife is so angry that she calls Grandfather Tazi to her quarters, which are actually “a self-contained palace” (29). Thor says she’ll leave Grandfather if Yasmina doesn’t rename her duck, but Grandfather is actually “amused” (30) by the situation. As Fatima explains, Yasmina’s ability to make “moody” (31) Grandfather laugh has always saved her, despite her strange behavior such as climbing trees and convincing the other wives to as well. Thor complains that Yasmina is a “troublemaker, like everyone from the Atlas Mountains,” and that her mountain-dwellers’ heritage makes her “like an ugly giraffe” (31). While Yasmina’s tall, thin, suntanned frame doesn’t fit ideals of the time, Thor’s pale skin and voluptuous body do.
Grandfather confronts Yasmina about the duck, and Yasmina argues it doesn’t matter if Thor leaves—Grandfather will still have eight brides to keep him company. He attempts to “bribe” (32) Yasmina by giving her a bracelet if she’ll kill the duck, but Yasmina keeps the bracelet without agreeing. After a few days, she says she can’t kill the duck because its name is Thor, so its death “would not be a good omen” (32). However, she agrees to call the duck Thor “only in her mind” (32).
In addition to naming her duck Lalla Thor, Yasmina has named the farm’s peacock King Farouk, after the Egyptian king, whom Yasmina and the other wives despise. Farouk wants to divorce his “lovely wife” (32), Princess Farida, because she has borne only daughters who cannot rule under Muslim law, and thus he has no heir. Princess Farida is from a humble background and the wives identify with her, “lov[ing] her and suffer[ing] for her humiliations” (33). For “there is nothing so humiliating for a woman,” Yasmina tells Fatima, “as being cast out” (33).
Even after resolving the matter of the duck, Yasmina has trouble dealing with Lalla Thor, who comes from a high-class city family, unlike Yasmina and the other wives with their “modest rural background[s]” (34). However, Yasmina concludes that Thor “is still stuck in a harem, just like [her]” (34). When Fatima wonders what it means to be “stuck in a harem,” Yasmina sometimes tells her it means losing the freedom to go where you please, and other times that it means having to share your husband—something Fatima herself won’t have to do.
As Fatima explains, the Moroccan nationalists battling the French have pledged to make all Moroccans equal, abolishing slavery and giving women equal rights, including the right of monogamy. Since many of Yasmina’s co-wives were slaves bought at market, some stolen from their families after the French invaded in 1912, this potential change is particularly important. During violent times such as the French invasion, Yasmina says, “women always pay a high price” (36).
Fatima and her cousin Samir try to understand the meaning of a particularly “explosive” word—“harem” (40). Fatima finds it hard to believe Yasmina’s farm harem, where the wives can ride horses and swim in the river, is identified by the same word as the “fortress” (39) in Fez where women can only step outside if they follow a series of restrictive rules. And within this fortress, the word “harem” can “start a war” (40): Grandmother Lalla Mani and Chama’s mother, Lalla Radia, support the harem, while Fatima’s Mother, Cousin Chama, and Aunt Habiba condemn it. Mani says that if women are free to roam the streets, men will stop working to “have fun” (40), and society will crumble.
“Fun,” Fatima and Samir determine, has to do with sex, and they consult their Cousin Malika to learn more about the subject. When Malika fails to share the interesting details, the young cousins use a trick they’ve picked up from Aunt Habiba: pretending to be uninterested in what those with more authority say is “one good way for the weak to take power” (41). Malika, hoping to regain her cousins’ attention, reveals that a husband and wife kiss on the mouth and lie all night in one bed together.
Aunt Habiba herself is one of the “weak” members of society she references: as a divorced woman, she is not allowed to speak against Lalla Mani. Instead, she relies on Mother and Chama to do so. Mother argues that the French don’t “imprison their wives behind walls” (42), and they still manage to get their work done. Chama, meanwhile, has her own “theory” (42) on how harems began: she believes that in the past men were always fighting, so they chose to name a sultan who would use his authority to stop the violence. They decided “the man who catches the most women will be appointed sultan” (43), and thus men established harems to imprison their captive women.
At first, Byzantines captured the most women and ruled both East and West. Yet as the years passed, the Arabs gained power until Caliph Harun al-Rashid—a true historical figure—conquered many territories and built a harem of 1,000 women. As the Arabs continued collecting women, the Christians decided that women no longer represented power—instead, “the most powerful weapons and machines” (44)did. The Christians kept this change secret for years, and the Arabs “went to sleep” (45) confident in their power. Now, “only a few weeks ago,” the Arabs have “finally woke[n] up” to the reality that a French king with only one wife rules Morocco, and “men’s power is no longer measured by the number of women they can imprison” (45). Thus, Chama’s largely invented story ends by describing Morocco’s true political situation.
After Chama’s story, her mother Radia always tells Samir and Fatima “the correct version of history” (46) and affirms the role of harems. In the end, the two young cousins are left perplexed by “all these contradictory opinions” (46), without a clear answer to their question of what a harem is and what purpose it serves.
Throughout Dreams of Trespass, Mernissi includes footnotes that clarify aspects of Morocco’s history and the political and social climate of the 1940s, when Dreams of Trespass takes place. These historical details are particularly important in the opening chapters, as the young narrator struggles to understand what exactly a harem is, and how the rules of the harem apply to her changing world.
First, Mernissi distinguishes between the “imperial harems” most Westerners picture when they hear the word, and the “domestic harems” (35) that still exist in the 20th century. Imperial harems arose during the “territorial conquests” of the 17th century onward and were closest to the palaces filled with “lasciviously reclined indolent women” (34) that inspired Western fascination. These harems dissolved when the West conquered the last Ottoman sultan in 1909, but domestic harems like Fatima’s still exist in the 1940s. In these harems, a man, his sons, and their wives all live in the same house and prevent the women from leaving. The men don’t necessarily have multiple wives, and the arrangement is more of an “extended family” than an “erotic” (35) one. Significantly, what defines these modern harems is “the men’s desire to seclude their wives” (35)—a limit on women’s power that will be explored through the plot, characters, and themes of Dreams of Trespass.
The opening chapters of the book also describe the changing political situation in 1940s Morocco, as Moroccan nationalists are fighting against French imperialism and promising equal rights for men and women. Many adults in Fatima’s life believe Morocco is transforming, and polygamy will soon be outlawed—but as Mernissi explains in another footnote, this belief will prove false. At the time of the book’s publication in 1994, polygamy is still legal in Morocco and most Muslim countries, a marker of how “the Muslim world has regressed” (37) in its treatment of women. According to Mernissi, while Muslim lawmakers claim that polygamy is religious law they can’t alter, the purpose of maintaining polygamy is “to show women that their needs are not important” and that they cannot be part of “the law-making process” (37). Thus, the author continues to emphasize the limitations placed on Muslim women that receive such attention throughout the book.
In fact, these opening chapters as a whole provide young Fatima a chance to “situate the geometric line”—the hudud, or frontier—that “organiz[es] [her] powerlessness” (3). By discussing harems with her mother, grandmother, cousin, and aunt, Fatima comes to understand that Morocco is one of the few countries where men still determine power “by the number of women they can imprison” (45). Adult women may hope that Fatima will receive an education, travel, and live without polygamy, but in the opening chapters of the novel, these are still future dreams rather than present reality. Young Fatima must understand her place in a world that does not respect her, simply because of her gender—and to do so, she develops strong relationships with previous generations of women.
These female relationships are a central focus of the opening chapters and coincide with the memoir’s emphasis on the power of storytelling. Fatima is drawn to women like her aunt Habiba because, even though they are ostensibly powerless, they have the ability, “with words alone” (19), to take listeners to strange lands and show them miraculous transformations. Like the fictional Scheherazade, these women tell stories to save their lives as well as to gain meaning and happiness in spite of limitations—and young Fatima, too, wants to become a storyteller who “talk[s] in the night” (19). In addition, women show Fatima in other ways that she should “never accept inequality” (26): Mother demands equal treatment for Fatima and a male child, and for herself and her sister-in-law, while Grandmother stages a secret rebellion against a co-wife with unfair privileges. Thus, Fatima’s earliest years are defined by her relationships with women who refuse to accept their lack of freedom and power, instead using words and idea to fight for equality—and these women hope for even greater freedom in Fatima’s future.