Translating Nouzha Fassi Fihri's La Baroudeuse: A Case Study in ...

every book in his father-in-law's library, little by little becoming familiar with the
masters of Arabic thought. Life suddenly seemed fascinating. In time, the boorish
man became a polished intellectual. Emerging from under the smothering weight
of vulgarity, his mind awoke to intelligence. Still, he felt a secret discomfort, an
unexpressed shame, as he searched in vain for values that would give him a
particular reason to live.
On this day, through the call of duty, he perceived his soul, this human
enigma, man's moral conscience and the heart of the mystery of his individuality.
Without a second thought, he joined the marchers.
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They waited a long time for him to come home. The stew simmered on the
brazier until the meat stuck to the bottom and a crack in the crockery pot let the
sauce drip out onto the coals. Then they decided to have a few bites, setting aside
his portion of dinner. But it got late and he didn't come. Lalla Kenza finally
wished Moulay Ali a good night as he told his prayer beads, and went upstairs to
bed, telling her slave to wait for the master's return.
"Wait until he comes and lock the door behind him. If he is hungry, serve
him dinner and wait until he has finished. Then make sure all the faucets and
lights are off. You know how absent-minded he is. Good night, Moulay Ali. I'm
going to bed."
As her worried cousin looked on, she left with faltering steps, torn
between anxiety and an unjustifiable feeling of betrayal.