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154 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1964
Just then, Urfy was seized by panic. All of a sudden he couldn't see—he thought he had been struck blind. It took him a moment to understand the reason for the sudden loss of sight: the tears he'd been struggling to repress now filled his eyes, and the lenses of his glasses were fogged up.
Then [the police man] started scrutinizing the people seated on the benches. He seemed to be looking for somebody specific and kept shaking his head with a disappointed frown.
history's full of these little bureaucrats who rise to high positions because of their diligence and perseverance in a life of crime. it was a painful thought: the only glorious men the human race has produced were a bunch of miserable officials who cared about nothing but their own advancement and were sometimes driven to massacre thousands of their own just to hold on to their jobs and keep food on the table. and this was who was held up for the respect and admiration of the crowd!
In 60 years he only wrote eight novels, in accordance with his philosophy of life in which "laziness" is not a vice but a form of contemplation and meditation. In his own words: "So much beauty in the world, so few eyes to see it."This idea/philosophy permeates his works; they celebrate the non-working class of Egypt with subversive relish, emphasizing and celebrating laziness above contribution or production. Both of the works I've read of his have been succinct, interesting little black comedies. Proud Beggars was more nihilistic than The Jokers, and, while it was a good introduction to his work, was not quite as good as The Jokers.