My favorite books on Middle Eastern culture written by insiders

This is the fictive account of a girl growing up in the women’s quarters of a conservative family in Fez Morocco in the 1940s and 50s. The narrator tells about how she is not allowed to go out and dreams of what life outside must be like. Throughout, her mother advocates for her daughters’ education and eventual ability to earn a living, but comes in conflict with her traditionally-minded mother-in-law who sees women’s roles tied to household tasks and child-rearing. Based loosely on the experiences of the author, the account provides a more nuanced depiction of the harem than the usual Western one. The author was a prominent Moroccan sociologist and outspoken feminist, and the book is particularly interesting for the sympathetic way she presents these women’s lives.

In this autobiography, Ahmed describes her childhood growing up in a Muslim family in the 40s and 50s in Cairo where she witnessed many of the formative events that transformed Egypt—the end of British occupation, the changes wrought by Nassar’s reforms, and the break-down of the largely peaceful coexistence of multi-ethnic and multi-religious groups after the establishment of Israel. Ahmed goes on to school in England and then later to a life in the U.S. where she has difficulty resolving the contradictions of her comfortable Islamic upbringing with a growing sense of feminist identity. Ahmed is professor of women’s studies at Harvard Divinity School. Although not veiling herself, she supports Muslim women who wear the veil as a symbol of their own version of feminism.

During the sixties, Atiya collected life stories of five Egyptian women from the lower and middle classes, ranging in age from twenty to mid-sixty. The stories show how to them, life starts with marriage. If they mention their childhoods, it is as preparation for marriage. Parents invariably arranged the women’s marriages or gave permission to potential husbands attracted to their daughters from a distance. Once the excitement of their weddings is over, however, most face an endless stream of difficulties. They recount experiences as co-wives, being forced into acrimonious divorces, family conflicts, and problems with children. They discuss witchcraft, female circumcision, poverty, and health issues. The book is unusual in that it conveys in their own words, the thinking of people not usually heard from in Middle Eastern writing.

Offended by the government’s destruction of ancient parts of the Damascus bazaar, Tergeman decides to record the Syrian traditions she experienced growing up in the city before they are lost. In somewhat idyllic form, she describes the celebrations and feast days, traditional foods, colorful characters announcing Ramadan hours, café storytellers, and the proverbs and sayings that were part of everyday life. Best of all, she conveys the warmth of family and community life. With a wealth of detail that only a Syrian can describe, the book gives us a glimpse into the values and beliefs that until recently were an integral part of the culture. Although many traditions are lost now, they still serve as a model for the way life should be in normal times. 

It’s important in a book list of Middle Eastern culture to include a cookbook, especially one annotated by the author’s memories of people and places where food was served. Food is too central to ignore. It brings family members together and serves as the basis for celebrating all life’s events. I have seen women argue heatedly over which spices to use and when to add them. Such differences define whole sub-cultures, as well as families. Rodin’s book is a classic and a must-read book. As a woman the easiest way for me to immerse myself in local culture was to spend long hours cooking with women. There I learned what concerned them, how they handled their households, and how much the qualitative aspects of family life revolved around food.