Sex und Lügen: Gespräche mit Frauen aus der islamischen Welt

by Leïla Slimani, Amelie Thoma (Translator)

Zerrissenheit, Hoffnung, Aufbegehren. Frauen aus Marokko sprechen über Liebe, Gefühle, Sexualität. Über Heuchelei und den Wunsch nach Anerkennung. Eine berührende Sammlung sehr persönlicher Geschichten. Von der Autorin des SPIEGEL-Bestsellers »Dann schlaf auch du«.

»Ergreifend und schmerzlich.« Ben Jelloun

Sich zu seinen Gefühlen bekennen? Den Partner frei wählen? Alleine auf die Straße gehen? Von klein auf werden Mädchen in islamischen Ländern dazu erzogen, keine Schande über ihre Familien zu bringen. Ehebruch, Prostitution, Homosexualität werden in Marokko bis heute mit Gefängnis bestraft. Viele Frauen führen in Leïla Slimanis Geburtsland daher ein Doppelleben – zerrissen zwischen Tradition und Religion auf der einen Seite und dem Wunsch nach Selbstbestimmung auf der anderen. Sechzehn sehr persönliche Geschichten versammelt die preisgekrönte Autorin und Journalistin in diesem Band. Ebenso mutige wie berührende Bekenntnisse, die Einblick geben in den Alltag von Frauen und in eine Welt im Umbruch.

»Für mich war es wichtig, das, was mir diese Frauen erzählt haben, ungefiltert niederzuschreiben. Ihre mitreißenden und eindringlichen Worte festzuhalten, die mich erschüttert und bewegt, mich wütend gemacht und empört haben.« Leïla Slimani

Genres: Nonfiction, Feminism, Essays, Morocco, Africa, Womens, Politics

205 pages, Paperback

First published September 6, 2017

About the author

Leïla Slimani is a French writer and journalist of Moroccan ancestry. In 2016 she was awarded the Prix Goncourt for her novel Chanson douce.

Slimani was born in Rabat, Morocco and studied later political science and media studies in Paris. After that she temporarily considered a career as an actress and began to work as a journalist for the magazine Jeune Afrique. In 2014 she published her first novel Dans le jardin de l’ogre, which two years later was followed by the psychological thriller Chanson douce. The latter quickly turned into a bestseller with over 450,000 copies printed within a year even before the book was awarded the Prix Goncourt.

Reviews

[Warwick · Rating 4 out of 5]

Leïla Slimani's first novel caused a bit of a stir when it came out. With its libidinous protagonist, Adèle, who neglects her child and lurches through a series of destructive affairs, it was especially indecorous (some critics implied) for a North African novelist. And yet it is precisely those in the Maghreb, Slimani argues in this unacademic but fascinating study, who are ideally placed to tackle themes of sexual dysfunction. ‘Living or growing up in societies where sexual freedom does not exist turns sex into a permanent obsession.’

Adèle's background was never mentioned in the novel, but her father was called Kemal and there were intriguing references to the Arab Spring going on in the background. Now Slimani confesses that the character is to be read, at least in part, as ‘a somewhat extreme metaphor for the sexuality of young Moroccan women’. These are the people to whom Slimani now turns directly: the bulk of this book is extended interviews with women about sex, many of whom reached out to Slimani after reading her novel.

The picture of Morocco that emerges is one of near-total moral hypocrisy – a culture with a complete disconnect between public ethics and private behaviour. It is against the law to have sex before marriage, or outside of marriage, or with someone of the same sex as you. Of course, this does not stop people doing these things; it just means they have to be done in secret, which makes them potentially physically unsafe, legally dangerous, and psychologically damaging.

If you are comfortably off, you might be able to afford an apartment, or a French-run hotel to meet your boyfriend – or, if you're meeting in an empty lot or a car park, you might be able to afford to pay off any police that come round. Otherwise even these options are closed to you. Sexuality is therefore filtered, like everything, through economic or class-based structures.

Behind a lot of it is the fetish of female virginity. Men are not supposed to have extramarital sex, but everyone forgives it when they do; this was brought home to me in vivid terms when I lived in Rabat in the late 90s, and regularly had to help the guy I was staying with sneak prostitutes out of his parents' house unseen. This depressing process, which I did my best to avoid by determined sleeping or feigned misunderstanding, was seen as, at worst, a kind of manly peccadillo.

Women, on the other hand, are ruthlessly punished for similar activity, and their sex lives must therefore be lived in utter secrecy. Almost everyone interviewed here has numerous stories of how all their most conservative, veiled friends have the most debauched private lives: but when they get married, as far as the world is concerned, they are virginally ‘pure’ (and may have a certificate from their father to prove it). Even sex itself is carried out with this in mind:

‘Girls act like frightened virgins. The first time they make love with a man, for example, they won't move. Because a lot of us have heard these terrible stories where men start hitting their partners [if they're too active], saying, “Where did you learn that?”’

« Les filles jouent les vierges effarouchées. La première fois qu'elles font l'amour avec un homme, elles ne bougent pas, par exemple. Beaucoup ont entendu des histoires horribles où des hommes ont attaqué leurs partenaires en leur disant : “Où est-ce que tu as appris ça ? ” »

Culture is held ‘hostage to patriarchy and the religious,’ Slimani concludes. Western commentators tend to stress the ‘religious’ bit of that, but the situation is complex. The Moroccan law forbidding homosexual relations, for instance, has nothing to do with Islam – it was lifted wholesale from article 331 of the French penal code (since repealed). Colonialism, not sharia, is behind a lot of the repressive legal framework here.

The Moroccan director Nabil Ayouch has an interesting take:

‘Nowadays, we set identities up in opposition to each other: sex is the Other, the decadent West, while Moroccan and Muslim identity is aligned with virtue and modesty. But we forget everything. We forget that it was we, the Arabs and Muslims, who shocked the West in the 15th century with our erotic writing. We invented erotology. We've become amnesiacs.’

« Aujourd'hui, on fait face à une opposition en termes identitaires : le sexe, c'est l'autre, l'Occident décadent, alors que l'identité marocaine et musulmane s'apparenterait à la vertu et à la pudeur. Mais on oublie tout. On oublie que c'est nous, les Arabes et les musulmans, qui avons au XVe siècle choqué l'Occident par nos écrits érotiques. On a inventé l'érotologie. Nous sommes devenus amnésiques. »

Islamism has certainly increased in Morocco since I lived there in 1996–97, when face veils, for instance, were not ever so common; a lot more rightwing religious politicians are in power there now. Of course, the same can be said of the United States. It's debatable to what extent the religions involved are really to blame. ‘These things don't serve the cause of Islam,’ as one of Slimani's interviewees puts it. ‘They serve only one cause: men's.’

But then patriarchal social structures (as sometimes needs reminding) are maintained by all members of society. Otherwise, they would not be social structures. In Moroccan surveys, even more women than men say that they are opposed to sexual freedom (90 percent versus 78 percent), and even feminist groups in Morocco will usually not touch it, preferring not to devalue their cause by associating it with sex. Yet as Slimani argues, ‘To defend sexual rights is directly to defend women's rights.’ Among the consequences is the fact that between 600 and 800 illegal abortions are carried out every day in Morocco, a figure that I find incredible given that the UK only carries out five-hundred-and-something (legal) abortions a day with double the population.

Though many things in this book are depressing and will lead to frequent accesses of rage, in fact overall there is a lot of positivity. Morocco has always been at the liberal end of the Muslim world, and it has a long tradition of that to call on; the current king, who's relatively progressive, also helps. Mass media and the internet make comparisons with other cultures unavoidable. Since divorce was legalised in 2004, a great many women have availed themselves of it, and there seems to be a growing feeling that very early marriages and abusive husbands are not the life sentences that they once were. If things were not changing, there would be no conflict around this issue – and on the evidence of this book, there is, a lot.

This is not a work of academic sociology, but if you can accept that, Slimani has compiled a fascinating revelation of a society that is ‘very prudish and conservative…but at the same time completely obsessed with sex and performance’.

[Isabella van Doorne · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was unable to finish this book, because it seems Slimani uses the stories to confirm a narrative she constructed in het intrododuction. She often redirects the stories in her work to, what looks like, ‘prove a point’ and after a while the book just keeps repeating itself. This sadly led me to stop reading halfway through which happens for me very rarely...

Slimani’s work is pretty problematic for several reasons, but in my personal opinion, mainly because she goes into very strict West vs. East , free vs. oppressed binaries that make Western ideals and countries look more ‘liberated’ and more advanced compared to Morocco. Also, Slimani grew up in Morocco but has mainly lived in France. She often uses her upbringing as a justification for her opinion to be ‘correct’. Although I agree that Other voices, specifically those from the country discussed, need to be elevated, Slimani does not take into account her own mediation and many years spent living in Paris. For a work such as this, much more critical reflection is needed from the authors side.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

So it’s no accident that Malika has remained single. She seems to have had many disappointments with men. "My ex went to school in France and he’s very liberal, very cool. Yet even he can only imagine marrying a younger woman who’s a virgin. And at the same time, he boasts of going to see prostitutes on a regular basis. When I expressed shock at all this, he said: ‘You’re intolerant. This is my right. I’m allowed both to want to fuck and to marry a virgin.’ He didn’t consider this in the least contradictory."

This book did pretty much exactly what I expected it to - gave an insight into the sex lives and situation surrounding (mostly) female sexuality in contemporary Morocco - but somehow I still wanted something more from it. In fact, it encounters the same issue that many books on similar topics (misogyny immediately springs to mind) stumble upon: providing ample problematic examples and few practical solutions; a combination which ultimately makes for a frustrating reading experience.

The issue in Morocco is more extreme than I first understood - a lot of the stigma around female sexuality within society is backed up by archaic laws - but reading this felt like being stuck in an echo chamber. I think it's great that Slimani has shed light on the current situation in Morocco and given voice to women whose perspectives would not otherwise reach a wider audience (although the majority of women she speaks to are educated and middle to upper class, so.. go figure), but the stories begin to feel repetitive after a while, and few solutions or ways forward are proposed. Overall I still think this is worth the read for its insights into the contradictory nature of how sexuality is viewed in 21st century Morocco.

[Aleksandra Fatic · Rating 5 out of 5]

Literalno, 3⭐️, jer ovo nije djelo neke velike ljepote za čitanje, ali je surovo iskreno i otvoreno govori o položaju žena u Maroku, a na moju veliku žalost, sigurna sam da se sve mi možemo pronaći u pričama marokanskih žena, da nikad teže nije bilo biti žena s obzirom na demokratije i slobode koje su svuda oko nas, a koje su nam tako svjesno i planski oduzete! E zbog toga 5⭐️, jer bi trebalo da se još jače i žustrije borimo za svoja prava, po principu sve za jednu, jedna za sve i tek tada će svakoj ženi na ovom svijetu, a i samom ovom svijetu biti dobro ♀️!

[Anna Wilczyńska · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5. To jest wartościowa książka, choć nie wszystkie wnioski są pogłębione i nie nazwałabym jej reportażem. Jaki jest problem? Wywiady, które są trzonem książki, powstały w 2015 roku, a do polskiej/go czytelniczki/ka trafiają w roku 2024. Ta wyrwa czasowa sprawia, że odbiór książki jest słabszy, a tzw. kryzys migracyjny i pandemia jeszcze w temacie namieszały. Polskiemu wydaniu wartości odejmuje także orientalizujący komentarz o "zakazanym świecie erotyki orientu" na okładce.

[Jenny (Reading Envy) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Review to come.

[Darryl Suite · Rating 4 out of 5]

If there's one takeaway this book provides, it's that Moroccan culture has a huge obsession with women's virginity. And it was eye-opening (and upsetting) to read about just how far state and religion go to maintain that "virtue."

'Sex and Lies' explores women's rights, extra-marital sex, homosexuality within this atmosphere, even the extreme rejection of public displays of affection (that last one shocked the hell out of me).

I appreciated reading these women's stories. If you're worried that their stories might feel voyeuristic, they're not. My only gripe is that this book can get quite repetitive, several of the same points being reiterated over and over. That was a bit frustrating. But overall, this is an insightful book. 

[Mamoun Sinaceur · Rating 3 out of 5]

J’attendais avec impatience ce livre de Leila Slimani, j'admirais son courage après avoir obtenu le Goncourt elle a choisi un sujet qui lui tenait particulièrement à cœur les libertés individuelles et sexuelles au Maroc.
La première impression après l'avoir lu, c'est une frustration j'avais l'impression d'avoir un condensé de ses éditoriaux écrits pour un Journal.
J'irai pas à dire que je suis déçu parce qu'il y a énormément de bonnes choses dans ce livre que tout le monde doit lire.
J'ai découvert des personnes que j'ai envie de connaitre mieux, ( Asma Lamrabet, Maha Sano, etc) j'aurai peut-être rajouté plus d'Hommes dans les témoignages pour donner un caractère global à cette cause et ne pas la confiner à "une affaire de femme"
J'ai bien pris le temps de lire chaque chapitre doucement pour bien m'imprégner des histoires. Je pense que ce livre n'a pas l'ambition d'être autre chose qu’un témoignage, alors lisez le comme tel.

[Cathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a book that delivers exactly what it sets out to do. It features a series of stories about the sex life of Moroccan women. So why do I feel it wasn't enough? I believe it is due to the fact that the author presents these stories, but she doesn't criticize far beyond misogyny and the light touch on the legal and social structure of Morocco. We have, therefore, the description of multiple experiences affected with the living conditions of women in that country, but few or no solutions are presented. Unfortunately, as the book progresses, the stories also become repetitive, which does not help to make the experience so rewarding.
An interesting but frustrating reading.

[Claire]

Reality bites.

The last nonfiction book I read was also set in Morocco (at the time referred to as the Spanish Sahara) written by a foreign woman living openly with her boyfriend, it couldn't be more in contrast with what I've just read here - although Sanmao does encounter women living within the oppressive system that is at work in this collection.

In Morocco the ban on 'fornication', or zina, isn't just a moral injunction. Article 490 of the penal code prescribes 'imprisonment of between one month and one year [for] all persons of opposite sexes, who, not being united by the bonds of marriage, pursue sexual relations'. According to article 489, all 'preferential or unnatural behaviour between two persons of the same sex will be punished by between six months and three years' imprisonment'.

Leïla Slimani interviews women who responded to her after the publication of her first novel Adèle, a character she describes as 'a rather extreme metaphor for the sexual experience of young Moroccan women'; it was a book that provoked a dialogue, many women wanted to have that conversation with her, felt safe doing so, inspiring her to collect those stories and publish them for that reason, to provoke a national conversation.

Novels have a magical way of forging a very intimate connection between writers and their readers, of toppling the barriers of shame and mistrust. My hours with those women were very special. And its their stories I have tried to give back: the impassioned testimonies of a time and its suffering.

It's both a discomforting read, to encounter this knowledge and hear this testimony for the first time, and encouraging if it means that a space is being created that allows the conversation to happen at all, but overall it leaves a feeling of disempowerment, having glimpsed the tip of another nation's patriarchal iceberg. Article 489 is not drawn from sharia or any other religious source, it is in fact identical to the French penal code's former article 331, repealed in 1982. They are laws inherited directly from the French protectorate.

In a conversation with Egyptian feminist and author Mona Eltahawy about the tussle between the freedom desired and the shackles forced upon women, Eltahawy responded by using words attributed to the great American abolitionist Harriet Tubman, who devoted her life to persuading slaves to flee the plantations and claim their freedom.

She is meant to have said: "I freed a thousand slaves. I could have freed a thousand more if only they knew were slaves." Emancipation, Eltahawy told me, is first about raising awareness. If women haven't fully understood the state of inferiority in which they are kept, they will do nothing but perpetuate it.

Women are stepping out of isolation and sharing their stories everywhere, finding solidarity in that first step, sharing in a safe space, being heard, realising they are not alone.

May it be a stepping stone to change.

[Awatéf El abdellaouy · Rating 2 out of 5]

Une bonne introduction au sujet de la sexualité au Maroc...
Beaucoup de témoignage et d'histoires que la plupart de marocains n'ignorent pas...
Je m'attendais à explorer de nouvelles idées ou facettes de ce sujets : débat ou solutions envisageables mais le bouquin n'a cessé de réitérer une seule et unique réalité de la vie sexuelle au Maroc : c'est une misère...

[Dagio_maya · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nel 2014 Leila Slimani, autrice francese di origine marocchina, fece scalpore con la pubblicazione di un romanzo la cui protagonista era una ninfomane (“Nel giardino dell’orco”).
Il clamore non fu tanto per il tema erotico in sé quanto per chi lo scrisse.
Slimani ci racconta dell’incredulità con cui i giornalisti la intervistavano a tale proposito.
Com’era possibile che una donna mussulmana (associazione data per scontata) parlare liberamente di sesso?
Questo sconcerto portò Slimani a riflettere sulla sessualità in Marocco.
Non un saggio sociologico ma una raccolta di interviste/ conversazioni(tredici per la precisione) con persone molto differenti tra loro ma che convergono a mostrarci lo stesso quadro anche se da angolazioni differenti.
Emerge, infatti, in tutti i racconti il ritratto di una cultura ”una cultura che è ostaggio dei religiosi e del patriarcato”. Il popolo marocchino è ossessionato dal sesso tanto da vivere vite parallele dato che la menzogna è istituzionalizzata :


” Secondo l’articolo 489, ogni «comportamento equivoco o contro natura tra due persone dello stesso sesso è punito con la reclusione da sei mesi a tre anni». In un Paese in cui l’aborto è illegale tranne in caso di stupro, gravi malformazioni o incesto, e in cui «un individuo sposato e accusato di adulterio» rischia da uno a due anni di prigione (articolo 491 del Codice penale) si verificano ogni giorno episodi drammatici. Nessuno ne parla, ma i cittadini sono consumati da intime tragedie, perché hanno la sensazione di vivere in una società ipocrita, che li giudica e li rifiuta”


Le” chiacchierate” che l’autrice ci riporta compongono un quadro omogeneo da cui emerge un’urgenza, ossia quella di dichiarare la sessualità un diritto alla stregua di altri aspetti necessari allo sviluppo di una civiltà sana e serena.
L’abbattimento di tabù, del concetto di h’chouma (», «vergogna»,), sono obiettivi raggiungibili attraverso una nuova cultura possibile.

”Non solo i diritti sessuali rientrano nei diritti umani, ma è attraverso la sessualità che in molte civiltà si è imposto il dominio maschile. Difendere i diritti sessuali vuol dire difendere direttamente i diritti delle donne. Nella possibilità di disporre del proprio corpo, di affrancarsi dalla propria cerchia familiare per avere una vita sessuale appagante, sono in gioco dei diritti politici. Legiferando su questi temi, daremo alle donne gli strumenti per tutelarsi dalla violenza maschile e dalle pressioni familiari. La situazione attuale non è più sostenibile. Vale a dire una situazione di miseria sessuale generalizzata, in particolare per le donne, che vedono semplicemente ignorati i propri bisogni sessuali diversi dalla riproduzione, che sono asservite all’imperativo della verginità prima del matrimonio e alla passività dopo.

Lettura molto interessante

[Frau Becker · Rating 2 out of 5]

Das Anliegen ist ehrenwert: Slimani protokolliert in Interviews Erfahrungen marokkanischer Frauen im Hinblick auf die herrschende Sexualmoral, prangert damit Sexismus und Doppelmoral, die alltägliche Verstellung, Victim-blaming und den Popanz um die Jungfräulichkeit an. Dabei ähneln sich die Erfahrungen, egal ob alleinstehende Ärztin, Prostituierte, glücklich oder unglücklich Verheiratete, lesbische Frau usw.: Sie alle leiden unter den Tabus und Verboten, die allein für Frauen gelten. Doch gerade weil diese Erfahrungen sich so ähneln, wirkt vieles redundant.Das Buch leidet unter einem Missverhältnis zwischen Beschreibung und Analyse; in der ersten Hälfte kommt man nicht über den Gedanken "Ist das alles furchtbar" hinaus. Erklärungen kommen etwas kurz und beschränken sich häufig auf Gemeinplätze: Die Verunsicherung der Männer angesichts der selbstbewusster werdenden Frauen, das Festhalten an traditionellen Privilegien, die Abgrenzung gegen die lockere Sexualmoral Europas als Behauptung einer eigenen Identität. Doch sehr viel tiefer, etwa an die Wurzel des Patriarchats, geht es nicht. Immerhin wird aber deutlich: Die Sexualmoral ist kein Randaspekt eines konservativen Islamismus, sondern der zentrale Kampfplatz, aber warum das so ist, auch warum sich patriachiale, misogyne Auslegung des Islam durchgesetzt hat, obwohl der Islam ursprünglich in sexueller Hinsicht sehr viel offener war als Christentum und Judentum, hätte sie gern erklären können. Damit bereitet es im Wesentlichen Bekanntes auf, wirklich Neues habe ich nicht erfahren.

[Andrea · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Sorry to break it to you like this – to you mothers – but if your sons are growing up to be stalkers and rapists, to be violent, hopeless, bad husbands and macho pigs, it isn’t solely the fault of our society and culture: you too are responsible. Listen, then, to this modest advice from a mother of two males: instead of telling your daughter over and over that she’s a target, stop telling your son that he’s a hunter. Instead of teaching your daughter to keep quiet, try teaching your son to listen. If you’re doing your best to give your daughter self-respect, try also to make sure that your son respects women. Instead of forbidding your daughter from wearing a skirt, try to make your son understand that a skirt is not an invitation to sex. Instead of forcing your daughter to cover up, try explaining to your son that a woman is more than just her body.''

[anne larouche · Rating 4 out of 5]

Témoignages très intéressants sur le contexte de la réalité sexuelle des femmes au maroc. Je cherche toujours à lire ce qu’il se passe ailleurs par des gens qui y ont vécu étant donné que je suis issue du modèle occidental. La lecture rapide avec les touches de contexte apportées par Slimani dressent un portrait de départ sur des éléments culturels que je ne connaissais que très en surface. Je suis contente de sortir de ma lecture avec la confirmation que je veux lire plus de Fatima Mernissi. Par contre, j’aurais aimé que plus des spécialistes en entrevue soient des femmes et avoir généralement plus de témoignages. On reste un peu sur sa faim, la diversité des expériences étant plus ou moins au rendez-vous. Puis grosse dédicace à Leïla Slimani et les Lumières💀 malheureusement je crois qu’on est loin de la décolonialité avec cet idéal.

[Emily Grace · Rating 3 out of 5]

In Morocco, the only acceptable sexual activity is between a man and his wife. Where all forms of extra-marital sex, homosexuality and prostitution are not only frowned upon but also punishable by law, women appear to have two options: be a virgin, or be a wife.

This wasn't what I was expecting. I had thought this to be a collection of Moroccan women's experiences regarding sex and relationships. The author even says in the introduction that her intention is "not to document a sociological study nor to write an essay about sex in Morocco" but to instead "render these women's words directly." But in the end, to me it really did read like a long-form essay with the passages from women used largely to drive and support the author's hypothesis about the sexual deprivation of Moroccans. Don't get me wrong, I think her hypothesis is thoughtful and accurate, it's just not what I had anticipated being the central focus of the book. Nonetheless, it was enlightening and heartbreaking and would recommend to anyone wanting to understand better the female experience in a punitive Islamist country.

[♥Milica♥ · Rating 4 out of 5]

A person from Morocco gifted this book to my mother, and I figured I might as well read it too.

It definitely achieved what it set out to do, which is to share stories about women's sex lives in Morocco.

Although, the stories themselves take up less room than the author's own opinions. Still, I didn't mind. I think it all works well together, and it should be required reading for a lot of people.

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Silmiä avaava esseeteos, jossa kirjailija Leïla Slimani yhdistelee omia havaintojaan, tutkittua tietoa sekä arjen kokemuksia Marokosta ja sen puristavasta seksuaalisesta kontrollista. Aikana, jolloin konservatiivisuus nousee varsin vauhdilla myös muissa monoteistisissa uskonnoissa islamin uskon lisäksi, tuntuu raadolliselta kuulla tarinoita siitä maailmasta, johon vanhoillisuus pyrkii ihan kulttuurista riippuen ihmisiä sullomaan. Marokon – ja islamin uskon – kannalta suoraan toivon, että näiden feminististen ja tasa-arvoa edistävien naisten ääni kuuluu kovaa ja kauas, ja että ihan jokainen on valmis tasa-arvotaisteluihin myös globaalissa etelässä, jossa moni konservatiivinen liike on melko suoraa seurasta kolonialismista.

[H.A. Leuschel · Rating 5 out of 5]

'Tous ces témoignages confirment également le rôle central que joue la place de la femme dans toutes ces problématiques. Malgré les avancées législatives, malgré l'évolution de la société, le corps de la femme reste contraint par le groupe. Avant d´être un individu, la femme est une mère, une soeur, une épouse, une fille. Elle est la garante de l'honneur familial et, pire encore, de l'identité nationale. Sa vertu est un enjeu public. Il reste donc à inventer la femme qui ne serait à personne, qui n'aurait à répondre de ses gestes qu'en tant que citoyen lambda, et non en fonction de son sexe.'

'Elles prennent ce qu'il y a à prendre' et pour celles qui 'affirment leur soif de liberté ... le prix à payer reste lourd.'

[Aya · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the book that every moroccan should read.

[Amina Hujdur · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lejla Slimani je žena koja je pronašla način da utiče na kulturu koja je ostala talac vjernika i patrijarhalnog društva.
Taj način je njeno pisanje i književni angažman.

[Fhina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ich werde nie in der Lage sein das zu fühlen, was diese Frauen tun. Ich bin sehr frei erzogen worden. Religion und Glauben waren präsent, aber nie wirklich wichtig oder ein Muss. Natürlich bin ich mir bewusst, dass man die Kulturen und Gesellschaften des Islams nicht mit denen des christlichen Europas vergleichen kann und bestimmte gesellschaftliche Werte einfach so tief in der jeweiligen Gesellschaft – nicht nur bedingt durch Religion und Glaube, sondern auch durch die Kultur – verankert sind, dass es nahezu unmöglich ist, diese zu einfach zuverändern. Es ist ja auch gut und wichtig, dass man gewisse kulturelle Werte pflegt und an nächste Generationen weitergibt. Aber es ist falsch, wenn diese Werte einen anderen Menschen degradieren und ihm nahezu alle Rechte nimmt. Leider ist es in vielen Ländern – nicht nur in denen, in denen der Islam überwiegend verherrscht – immer noch normal, dass es große Unterschiede zwischen Mann, Frau sowie Homosexuellen in der Gesellschaft gibt.

Das Buch enthält Geschichten von Frauen, die ganz konform mit der Gesellschaft, Religion und Kultur leben, die ihr Schicksal akzeptiert und sich angepasst haben, welche aber dennoch den Wunsch nach mehr Freiheit und Gleichberechtigung haben.

Es werden aber auch Geschichten von Frauen geteilt, die sich von all dem los gerissen haben, die auch nie streng erzogen wurden und von klein auf gelernt haben, dass eine Frau nicht weniger wert ist als ein Mann. Es sind Frauen, die gleichzeitig aber dennoch zur Vorsicht erzogen wurden und gerade wegen ihrer sehr liberalen Erziehung, nun immer wieder auf Ablehnung in der Gesellschaft stoßen, da es sich als Frau schließlich nicht gehört ein eigenes Leben zu haben.

Dann gibt es die Frauen, die ein Doppelleben führen. Die heimlich bereits Sex haben, ohne verheirated zu sein und sich, um keine Strafe zu bekommen, ihr Jungfernhäutchen wieder herstellen lassen, die Frauen, die heimlich fremdgehen oder als Prostituierte arbeiten.



Das Buch geht auch auf die aktuelle Rechtslage in Marokko ein. So kann es, laut Artikel 490 des Strafgesetzbuches, Haftstrafen bis zu einem Jahr geben für alle Personen die unterschiedlichen Geschlechts sind und unverheiratet miteinander schlafen. Außerdem wird im Artikel 489 festgehalten, dass “jede tendenziöse oder widernatürliche Handlung zwischen zwei Personen gleichen Geschlechts mit sechs Monaten bis drei Jahren Gefängnis” bestraft wird.

Besonders schockierend finde ich aber, dass “ein Vergewaltiger, der die vergewaltigte Frau heiratet, nicht mehr strafrechtlich verfolgt werden kann.” Leider sind Vergewaltigungen in Marokko trauriger Alltag und eine Vergewaltigung ist erst dann eine Vergewaltigung, wenn eine tatsächliche penetration stattgefunden hat… Alles andere in den Augen des Gesetzes keine Vergewaltigung…

Für mich persönlich sind diese Gesetze einfach inakzeptabel und nicht tolerierbar. Es macht mich traurig zu lesen, dass jeden Tag (!) ca. 24 uneheliche gezeugte Babys ausgesetzt werden und jährlich hunderte Frauen bei illegalen Abtreibungen sterben, weil diese sonst auch mit Gefängnis bestraft werden würden.

Die Autorin geht teilweise auch auf die Vorfälle der Silvesternacht 2015 in Köln ein und zitiert Joumana Haddad, eine libanesische Dichterin und Journalistin:

“Mütter, es tut mir leid, euch das zu sagen: Wenn eure Söhne zu Schlägern, Vergewaltigern, verwöhnten Ehemännern werden, wenn sie also Machos sind, dann hat das nicht nur mit Gesellschaft und Kultur zu tun. Es liegt auch an euch, ihren Müttern. […] Anstatt eurer Tochter zu erzählen, dass sie Beute ist, versucht eurem Sohn zu sagen, dass er kein Jäger ist. Anstatt eure Tochter zu lehren, den Mund zu halten, versucht eurem Sohn beizubringen zuzuhören. Anstatt eurer Tochter zu verbieten, dieses T-Shirt zu tragen, macht eurem Sohn klar, dass dieses T-Shirt keine offene Einladung zum Sex ist. Anstatt eure Tochter zu zwingen, sich zu verhüllen, erklärt eurem Sohn, dass eine Frau mehr ist als ihr Körper. Anstatt eurer Tochter zu beweisen, dass Männer Feinde sind, beweist eurem Sohn, dass Frauen wertvolle Partner auf Augenhöhe sind. Anstatt eure Tochter in Angst vor Männern und euren Sohn zum Frauenverächter zu erziehen, versucht sie beide in Vertrauen, Wertschätzung und Liebe zueinander groß werden zu lassen. Meine Worte richte ich an Mütter überall auf der Welt.” (Zeit.de)

Fazit:

Erschreckend und traurig und dennoch realität für viele Frauen. In der Hoffnung, dass sich das irgendwann dennoch etwas ändern wird…
Danke an die mutige Autorin und die mutigen Frauen, die ihre Geschichte geteilt haben.

[Salma]

Moral of the story: "Dans ce pays, il n’y a pas de place pour les sentiments. La seule chose qui compte, c’est l’argent. Quand on a de l’argent, on a la liberté."

[Vanya · Rating 4 out of 5]

“We should steer clear of western culture—look where it got them!”, “these feminists type are always ready to pick a fight,” “boys can stay out till late, after all it’s not they who are vulnerable”—These are just some of the innumerable statements that are made with abandon everyday around us. I am sure that as a woman in India, you must’ve encountered a version of these at least once (if you’re lucky) in your life.

The scathing misogyny of these words filled my mind as I read Leïla Slimani’s slim volume, Sex and Lies—a collection of real-life anecdotes of Moroccan women’s sexual lives. As I leafed through the stories, I was starkly aware of this little voice in my head that kept whispering in the background—this, all of this, isn’t just specific to Morocco. I knew these stories also as those of Indian women.

Slimani’s first novel featured a female protagonist obsessed with sex. In the wake of its publication, she noted that more and more women approached her with stories of their own—of their private lives, their adventures and transgressions—many of which hadn't been voiced prior to that occasion. These conversations made Slimani realise an alarming but fundamental truth about the Moroccan society— that women didn't possess sexual freedom and control over their bodies.

In this book, Slimani unpacks the role of the government and conservative religious voices in regulating desire. She dissects how anything ‘western’ is disparaged by those who vehemently claim that the ‘traditional Moroccan identity’ should be preserved at all costs. Women are an easy target as they are expected to uphold the honour of the community, endangering which is punishable by law. The age old conventions, however, are never held up to scrutiny. Times change, but laws are seen as infallible and in need of no change. So women have no choice but to stifle their desires or worse channel them behind a veil of secrecy and shame.

This tiny book took up a giant space in my heart. I missed it when I wasn’t caught between its pages. A must read for one and all!

[Christine · Rating 5 out of 5]

Slimani’s book is a part reflection and part interview. The book examines the status and treatment of women in Morocco. In her introduction, Slimani says the book was in part inspired by the reaction to her novel Adele. As such, the book focuses on the treatment and status of women primarily in terms of sex or the ability to chose one’s sexual partners.

The women with whom Slimani talks come from all ranges and classes. She even includes a male professor. She looks at not only the current law, but it includes comments from scholars who put the link to colonization and contact with Europe to the more rigid sex laws as well as the impact of French laws.

While the book’s purpose is to illustrate the varied lives of women in Morocco and how they negotiate the various laws that forbid them from having sex outside of marriage, much of what is related one can easily see in other cultures. It would be easy to some one in the West to scoff at virginity laws or the emphasis on virginity, but in America there are purity balls.

What Slimani also emphasizes are the hidden lives that are not so much address. What women actually talk about, how information about sex is transmitted from mother to do, and the roles that fathers have in raising daughters.

There is also a bit about harm that such laws do to men as well.

The voices of the various subjects seem to be captured well. There are women who chose not o get married, a prostitute, wives and mothers. It is a varied group. Each chapter uses a woman’s story or comments to explore and aspect of society and sex.

Slimani notes that exposing “a person’s most private sexual practice is a deadly weapon in the hands of those who wish to take control of them or carry out personal revenge” (42), showing the impact that laws policing sex and sexual practice actually have.

[Sub_zero · Rating 4 out of 5]

El apabullante éxito de Canción dulce ha facilitado sin duda que nos sigan llegando obras de Leila Slimani a nuestro idioma. La más reciente es Sexo y mentiras, un impactante y revelador estudio de la sexualidad marroquí que Slimani construye a partir de numerosas entrevistas con, sobre todo, distintas mujeres del país. Atrapado entre el tradicionalismo religioso y el deseo urgente de renovación, Marruecos se erige, según Slimani, como un inmenso campo de batalla en lo que concierne al ámbito sexual. Una tierra convulsa donde la práctica convive con el desconocimiento de sus mecanismos. Donde todo se prohíbe en la calle, pero nada se castiga de puertas para adentro. Este desdoblamiento cultural genera unos conflictos y frustraciones que Leila Slimani analiza en su libro sin atisbo de mojigatería, permitiéndonos entrar en los sucios dormitorios de un país que enarbola el pudor y la pureza moral como banderas. Sexo y mentiras es una lectura apasionante que genera asombro y curiosidad, pero también estupor por los rudimentos emocionales que se desprenden de sus páginas. Profunda y enriquecedora, Sexo y mentiras constituye una lectura fantástica, especialmente recomendable para quienes quieran sorprenderse de su propia ignorancia en materia de sociedad, religión y política marroquíes.

[Siham Elfakir]

Sexe Et Mensonges: la vie sexuelle au Maroc.
Je l’ai démarré avec beaucoup d’attentes, de questions et une énorme soif d’apprendre et de comprendre.
Je me suis ennuyée et ça m’a profondément gêné...Ces témoignages (que d’autres trouvent bouleversants sur Instagram) ressemblent tellement à des histoires de femmes que je connais, avec qui j’ai grandi, une amie, une cousine, une camarde de classe…
Je comprends parfaitement que ce n’est pas une thèse de sociologie, Leila Slimani l’explique bien au début de son livre. Mais le titre est alors trop large. Il y a trois témoignages d’hommes. Des témoignages d’un réalisateur, d’un sociologue, et d’un policier. Et les autres hommes ? Comment vivent ils la sexualité, la virginité et les lois autour ?
Pareil pour le femmes. Des témoignages de Casa, Rabat et Agadir. Et les femmes de Lhajeb, Midelt et Taghazout (juste des exemples)?
Bref, c’est bien écrit, ça résume bien les événements de ces dernières années au Maroc mais je reste sur ma faim.

[Bookish Bethany · Rating 4 out of 5]

A brilliant and insightful look into the lives of women who have been/felt/forced to be unable to speak openly about sex, love and relationships.

Slimani's work is poignant and important, it speaks a lot about the need for a physical desire's emancipation from interpretations and regimes that have limited it (through education, societal beliefs etc.). But this book is not a condemnation of a society but rather a celebration and re-interpretation of the ways in which religion and sexuality can work together in a beautiful and enlightening way.

This is informative, feminist, powerful.

[annalyse ⋆˙⟡♡ · Rating 4 out of 5]

this was a really insightful and validating book. i’ve seen a lot of reviews suggesting that Slimani only included essays that support her ideologies, but i think she gave a platform to the critiques that are often used out of context, villainised, or completely ignored. mediterranean culture and its obsession with female purity (across all major religions of the regions) remains a black cloud above a lot of us; the pressure, the concern and the shame that comes with it.

i think this was a really great book and forgive me for the poorly formulated review.

[Olivera · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5/5🌟

ja kad konačno naletim na odličan istraživačko-novinarski non-fiction: