This powerful and shocking narrative recounts the adventures of Abdeslam, a precocious twelve-year-old Moroccan boy who runs away from his home in the Rif Mountains to Tangier. There he struggles to retain his childlike innocence and native pride while striving to support himself in the corrupt and decadent international port. He takes up with a longshoreman and soon meets a rogue's gallery of friends, mostly hustlers and down-and-outers. With his characteristic brilliance and streetwise charm, Mrabet develops the novel's ambiguous theme of the necessity of violence to retain one's innocence.
Mohammed Mrabet (real name Mohammed ben Chaib el Hajjem; born March 8, 1936) is a Moroccan author artist and storyteller of the Ait Ouriaghel tribe in the Rif region. Mrabet is mostly known in the West through his association with Paul Bowles, William Burroughs and Tennessee Williams. Mrabet is an artist of intricate, yet colorful, felt tip and ink drawings in the style of Paul Masson or a more depressive, horror-show Jean Miro, which have been shown at various galleries in Europe[1] and America.[2] Mrabet's art work is his own: very loud and intricate, yet comparable with that of his contemporary, Jillali Gharbaoui (1930–1971.) Mrabet is increasingly being recognized as an important member of a small group of Moroccan Master Painters who emerged in the immediate post Colonial period[3] and his works have become highly sought after, mostly by European collectors.[4]
one of my favorite places to buy books in nyc is not a bookstore at all. its simply a table, set up on the sidewalk, covered in books, usually old, with the prices written in pencil under the front cover. there are several of them around the city, mostly in lower manhattan and brooklyn. i cannot walk past one without stopping, whether planned or not, and i am usually rewarded. one such time, my fingers gravitated towards The Lemon by Mohammed Mrabet, not because i had heard of it, but because of the drawing on the cover (yes, you can, and yes, i did). it was published by City Lights and it was published in 1986, when Ferlinghetti himself was still the active Editor. that was enough for me. when i brought it up to pay, the guy whose table it was said, "you picked the best book on the table". he might have been right. but where did Mrabet come from and why have i never heard of him? apparently, he dictated his oral stories, which Paul Bowles wrote and translated into English. this method has produced one of the better bildungsroman novels you will ever read. you may need to consult wikipedia a few times for some of the Moroccan references, but it is definitely worth the effort. written at a time before the present age of information and lack of attention, and in a place far from the myopic american POV, The Lemon reminds you that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
buscando la segunda parte de “el pan a secas”, me encontré con “el limón”.
solo con cómo se llega a publicar, el libro ya tiene su gracia. haber sido relatado por Mrabet y luego transcrito por Bowles es algo cuanto menos curioso, pero la gracia del libro no es solo esta.
si hay algo que me ha quedado, ha sido la ambientación, que aunque sea (creo) en la misma época que el libro de Chukri, es muy diferente, ni de cerca tan derrotista ni sucia.
aunque volvamos a tener el caso de un chico que rehúye de su familia, ahora no se enfoca en la miseria, penurias y desgracias que vive el protagonista, sino en cómo intenta mantenerse firme en sus convicciones cuando otros buscan apoderarse e imponerse sobre él.
I bought "The Lemon" as a discarded library book at the Park Ridge Library in May 1981. It has been part of my itinerant library moving to Saudi Arabia a few months later, back to the U.S., back to Saudi Arabia, to Virginia, to Houston, to California, back to Virginia, and now up to New York, I purchased the book because it was translated and edited by Paul Bowles, whom I had read while in Algeria. "The Lemon" is sort of an existentialist book in the tradition of Albert Camus' "L'etranger", which I liked immensely--spare prose, to the point, haunting tone of pre-ordained destiny, and the main action is in the head of the protagonist and the consequences of his actions. In this case, it is a coming of age story set in Tangier. The book evoked the light, the smells and sounds of the places I have been in Morocco--Oujda, Fez, and I bought it for that reason. I have known fairly well several Moroccans since my days spent there, and I would say that the psyche of Morocco is well drawn by Mohammed Mrabet and Paul Bowles. I recommend it for sojourners who meditate on the loneliness of travel.
This is one of my favorites of Mrabet's so far. One thing I really liked was that the significance of the title is delayed quite a while. Also, while the plot is actually quite dark, somehow it doesn't come across that way, maybe because the succinctness prevents you from dwelling on it too much. Instead you get caught up in the unpredictable, dangerous flow of this kid's life, and you soon find yourself rooting for him. He's clever (yet sometimes foolish) bluntly honest, tough and restless. Many of the other characters are only little sketches who pass in and out of his life in an evening, but they add up to create a definite atmosphere.
My top compliments for this work are that you don't have to think about it--it just flows through your head like water--and that it gets straight to the point. Says no more than necessary. It's the perfect book to read for pleasure, because even if you only have five minutes, the plot is going to move forward. Not to imply it's an edge-of-your-seat thriller type of story or that it feels at all hurried; it's more that Mrabet does an excellent job of sprinkling in the few details that matter, and nothing more.
I would also say that the interactions between the characters, whether positive or negative, all feel very genuine to me. One complaint might be that several of the characters and events in this book don't lead to anything, they just briefly grace the page. But what could be more realistic? Untied ends are what life is all about...
The more I think about it, Mrabet's greatest strength is probably in dialogue. A lot of his characters seem matter-of-fact to the point that they strike a nerve with one another (maybe a little like Larry David), which can be pretty realistic and entertaining to read. Mrabet understands people well.
One last thing I find fascinating is, since the setting here is Tangier in the very north of Morocco, there is a mixture of Spanish and Arabic. Occasionally Paul Bowles (translator) will leave a word untranslated, which makes this a rewarding book if you know a little Spanish and/or Arabic
Languid but compelling tale of a headstrong, stubborn, 12-year-old Moroccan boy who leaves home to carve out a new life in the warrens of Tangier. He navigates a world of drugs and violence, while trying to understand the adults around him.
Interesting book, recommended for those who like novels about sordid milieus, with an underlying existentialist theme.
Todo un descubrimiento Mohammed Mrabet, me ha arreglado un inicio de año más que flojo en lo que a lecturas se refiere.
“El limón” está escrito en un estilo completamente oral —de hecho, nunca fue escrito, sino narrado por el autor y posteriormente transcrito a partir de grabaciones— que goza de un ritmo endiablado, en el que no te puedes perder ni un solo párrafo porque la trama y los diálogos avanzan como un torrente, con la misma energía inagotable del pequeño Abdeslam. Este niño cabezón, intransigente, algo simplón pese a su inteligencia, indomable y contestón, pero que también es noble, sincero, honrado, trabajador y valiente, será nuestro guía a través del Tánger internacional (1923-1956) y sus múltiples personalidades, abarcando con brillantez desde los estratos más nobles y tradicionales hasta las mayores vergüenzas y vicios de ese Marruecos de todos y de nadie. Todo ello sin exhibicionismos, con una elegancia aparentemente incompatible con lo trepidante de la narración y la sencillez de su estilo. En ocasiones me ha recordado al compás literario de " La tercera boda", de Costas Taktsís (Trotalibros, 2022), aunque reconozco que Abdeslam y los demás personajes de “El limón” me han conseguido enamorar más que Nina y compañía. Y no es fácil: la obra griega tiene cinco estrellas como cinco soles por mi parte.
Sin embargo, el mayor mérito que le atribuyo, subjetivamente, a esta novela, es como Mrabet consigue recrear la mirada de un niño ante un mundo al que ha tenido que saltar prematuramente y que no está consiguiendo entender del todo, aunque crea que sí. En un juego especular similar al de “Lolita” de Nabokov (aunque inverso en este caso), Abdeslam irá madurando despacio, sin guía, valiéndose sólo de su inteligencia, permitiéndonos a nosotros como lectores entender el contexto de toda una época, incluso aunque nuestro pequeño narrador no se esté enterando de la mitad. A medida que su situación se va volviendo insostenible, Abdeslam tendrá que decidir si apostar por caer en una degradación asegurada o por lo desconocido. Lo que siempre tendrá claro el niño es que no piensa mirar atrás.
Aunque me quedo con muchas ganas de Mrabet, pasa automáticamente a esa selecta lista de autores que me obligo a dosificarme, por lo que dejaré pasar un tiempo, pero volveré a él sin duda.
Great book. I was reading it to learn a bit about Moroccan culture but was unprepared to be gripped by this young guy's story. Its richly written and hard to read at times but completely transported me to the world of Abdesalam. It describes the dilmmas facing a young manas he tries to decided what sort of man to be and how to survive in a world full of unsatisfactory adults.
I think it probably warranted 3.5 stars, but I just couldn't bring myself to give it 4. It is an interesting read with insights into the thinking of a young person in a culture very different from what I am used to. I just didn't love it.
The book is a transcription of an oral account, so the language is simple and direct. For the flow of the story, this is positive. On the other hand, being a book, this ends up leaving an impression of something done in a hurry and without care, as all the transformations happen too quickly. But, in short, it is understood that the original account was oral. One thing that really seems inconsistent in this account is Abdeslam's behavior, who does not accept his father hitting him, and therefore decides never to return home. On the other hand, even having invitations to stay in other places and being constantly threatened with sexual violence, he accepts Bashir hitting him, and still does not consider leaving his abuser's house. The young age of the main character, 12 years old, also does not match the personality of such a decisive and opinionated person.
Still, I liked it. Setting aside some of these inconsistencies, it is an account that captivates and leaves the reader curious about Abdeslam's fate, in addition to the setting which, of course, is perfect.
O livro é a transcrição de um relato oral, por isso a linguagem é simples e direta. Para a fluidez da história, isso é positivo. Por outro lado, e sendo um livro, isso acaba deixando uma impressão de algo feito com pressa e sem capricho, pois todas as transformações acontecem de maneira rápida demais. Mas, enfim, entende-se que o relato original era oral. Uma coisa que realmente parece inconsistente nesse relato é o comportamento de Abdeslam, que não aceita que o pai lhe bata, e por isso decide nunca mais voltar para casa. Por outro lado, mesmo tendo convite para ficar em outros lugares e sendo constantemente ameaçado de violência sexual, aceita que Bashir lhe bata, e ainda assim não cogita sair da casa de seu agressor. A pouca idade da personagem principal, 12 anos, tampouco combina com a personalidade de uma pessoa tão decidida e cheia de opiniões. Ainda assim, eu gostei. Deixando-se abstrair de algumas dessas inconsistências, é um relato que prende e deixa o leitor curioso do destino de Abdeslam, além da ambientação que, claro, é perfeita.
Mohammed Mrabet was born in Tangier around 1940. In 1965 he met Paul Bowles who has since taped and translated numerous strange legends and lively stories recounted by Mrabet into his own inimitable prose.
“This is a small masterpiece of simplicity and efficacity.” - Liberation, Paris
“A surprisingly effective book.” - The New Yorker
“The confrontation of cultures is beautifully dramatized. The simplicity of the narrative allies the novel with some of the most sophisticated new fiction.” - Saturday Review of Literature
What a great and sort of odd read. The tale encompasses the adventures of a teen, come adult, living [a dark] life in [a dark] Tangiers. It made me think of drinking tea at the Petit Socco there, gazing at the Tangerines going about their business. Translated by a fav. author of mine, I understand why Bowles took the time to make this available to an Anglophone audience. The title makes everything fall into place.
This book's description on Goodreads is better written then the story itself. I can't help be feel like this is an Islamic YA book meant to teach a lesson: if you don't listen to your parents, you run the risk of homosexual rape. However, Mohammed Mrabet is such an interesting character himself, that The Lemon warrants reading. Short, simple, and a quick read.
An Arab book. Abdeslam is a young boy, thrown out of his house because he wouldn't go to school and fought with his teacher. He is in many ways wise beyond his years and holds his own among the many unsavory characters he meets. He gains their respect by never compromising. The book smacks of Paul Bowles, who translated it and wrote the Introduction.