The reviews I read of this book sounded positive but a bit lukewarm, and when my book club chose it, I wasn’t expecting to appreciate it quite as much as I did. When I read other reviews of this beautifully written book, the evocation of Lagnado’s lost world seemed to be touted as its major selling point. Like other reviewers, I also found myself taken with the descriptions of 1940s Cairo. The sights and smells, and the overall atmosphere – there was something so romantic and sensuous about it, like being transported to a magical world. What I found at least equally compelling, though, was the honest way in which Lagnado evoked her family members in their full complexity, neither idealizing them for their merits nor demonizing them for their flaws.
Lagnado’s maternal grandmother, Alexandra, grew up rich and spoiled and, as a naïve 18-year-old, impulsively eloped with the wrong man. Cut off by her parents and eventually abandoned by her husband with two small children to take care of, Alexandra was ill-equipped for a life of poverty and couldn’t care properly for her children. Lagnado’s portrait of Alexandra managed to be sympathetic while unstintingly honest about her neglect of her often starving children. As I read about Alexandra skimming off a bit of money from the relatives’ handouts they survived on to leave her unsupervised children locked in the house for hours as she went to the movies and paced aimlessly through the streets of Cairo, I was surprised by how compassionate I felt to this poor woman’s plight, even as I was horrified on her children’s behalf. Kudos to Lagnado for her ability to arouse such a complicated and three-dimensional reaction in her reader.
Alexandra’s older child, Edith (Lagnado’s mother), somehow managed to create a decent life for herself by age 20, an impressive feat considering her tragic childhood and the real limitations for women growing up in 1930s Cairo. Against all odds, Edith completed her education and obtained a coveted teaching position in a highly prestigious school, whereby she ended up supporting her mother who had never worked and didn’t understand the concept (Alexandra entered adult life not even knowing how to brush her own hair). It was at this point that she met Leon Lagnado, a wealthy 40-something bachelor who was a bundle of contradictions – both devoutly religious and a hedonistic consumer of gambling, nightlife, and women, for one thing. In a highly romantic encounter, Leon spotted Edith sipping coffee with her mother in a café and sent a note to her table, beginning their courtship.
While Leon did turn out to be more reliable than Edith’s father was, the marriage was rocky pretty much from the get-go. Charming and self-centered, Leon did not see marriage or even parenthood as sufficient reason to abandon the nightlife he so loved. The story is a familiar one – Edith became increasingly depressed and less attractive, especially after she suffered a terrible illness and the loss of a child; Leon withdrew further, becoming an even more self-absorbed and impatient husband. The family, which grew to include four children, was unhappy, and Edith eventually threatened divorce but ultimately caved to external pressure not to go through with it, to her eternal regret.
In the backdrop of the family’s increasing upheaval, the birth of the State of Israel and Nasser’s rise to power created even more instability as the extended family began to leave Egypt in droves and the formerly thriving Jewish community of Cairo started to disintegrate. The once-harmonious relations Cairo Jews enjoyed with their Muslim neighbors gave way to hostility and fear, and Lagnado’s family too made reluctant plans to leave their beloved Cairo. Leon stalled, though, and then suffered a tragic accident which further delayed the family’s exodus from Egypt.
When the family was finally forced to leave Egypt in a sad convergence of family and political crises, they were not permitted to take any of their fortune with them and literally went from riches to rags overnight. After a short-term stint in Paris, the Lagnados ended up in America where they had to deal with unsympathetic immigration social workers, landlord troubles, and their rebellious teenage children, who were rejecting the family’s religious practices in favor of embracing American norms. Leon, the formerly proud, well-dressed boulevardier, was reduced to a broken, elderly necktie and textile salesman in poor health, barely eking out an income and financially dependent on his teenage son. To make matters worse, there was the problem of Loulou’s (Lucette’s moniker) recurring mysterious and serious illness, eventually diagnosed as Hodgkins’ disease, which began when she was a small child in Egypt and resurfaced in a more advanced stage in America after an apparent remission period.
While this book did have its occasional self-indulgent-memoir moments, they were rare and detracted little from its readability. Overall, The Man in the White Sharkskin Suit read like an enjoyable and multifaceted novel of a complicated family and their immigrant experience rather than like a memoir. It was sad, but as Lagnado herself wrote:
“For the longest time, I found the crumbly letters and telexes [later-unearthed communiques from her father:] too painful to read, until I realized that the story they told was redemptive – not about a family’s exile and loss but about one man’s sense of honor and personal responsibility.”