The Parisian, or Al-Barisi in Arabic, is the nickname given to Midhat Kamal, a young Palestinian man who is sent to Montpellier, France by his wealthy merchant father to study medicine while World War I is upending the map of Europe and the Middle East. He lives in the home of a university professor, a widower, and his daughter Jeanette. Midhat is a sensitive and romantic man, something of a misfit, and after a falling out with the professor and Jeanette, with whom he has fallen in love, he moves on to Paris.
He returns to his home city of Nablus, north of Jerusalem, in 1919. With the defeat of the Ottoman Empire, which had ruled most of the Mediterranean area and Middle East from its homeland in what is now modern Turkey, England and France had divided the territory so that via the British Mandate, England occupied and administered the territories of Palestine, while France's were Greater Syria, including Lebanon. Egypt and Sudan were a protectorate of England, and Iraq also fell under the British Mandate. France also had many countries under its rule in North Africa (Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, etc.)
Midhat was at odds, and having left his medical studies, he goes into his father's textile business, which consists of a store and workshop in Nablus, and a larger one in Cairo. His father lives in Cairo with his second wife and family, Midhat's mother having died when he was young. Midhat lives in the family home in Nablus with his grandmother, who is like a mother to him. Eventually he marries Fatima, the beautiful daughter of an aristocratic local family.
The politics of the time are extremely complex: as the years pass, Egypt becomes independent of England, and the Arab populations in Palestine revolt, particularly against the British. Rebellions and riots break out, especially as England encourages Jewish immigration from Europe, according to the Balfour Declaration. Though Jews (and Christians) had lived in Palestine for thousands of years (and in Egypt, Syria and throughout the Middle East), they had become a minority compared to the Moslem population. As time passes, tensions increase, with targets and violence on all sides. Through the 1920s and on into the 1930s, there is constant change and turmoil, and at the same time, conditions in Germany and beyond deteriorate as the Nazis take control with the election of Hitler and passage of the Nuremberg Laws, the first step in what will become the Holocaust, though that is largely beyond the scope or interest of this novel. In fact, there is very little mention of Jews, other than as figures to be detested or feared, though Samaritans (a Jewish-related, though separate religious group) reside and are business people in Nablus.
The novel explores the life of Midhat, his family and the culture of Palestine, particularly Nablus, against this backdrop, and how events both personal and political create impact. It is powerful reading, as the book presents a less well-known picture of Palestine and the Middle East. It is also both disturbing and distressing, and very complex.
With its scope, nuance, and vast cast of characters, it is like an old-fashioned novel that may bring to mind late 19th century authors like Henry James, Edith Wharton, certain mid-twentieth century American writers, or some of the classic British, Russian and French works. With its setting 80-100 years in the past, it can feel remote, yet at the same time, it's an ominous harbinger of the current Israel-Hamas war, and other conflicts in the area provoked by terrorist groups backed by Russia and its satellites.
The book has three parts, and I found the second the most interesting overall. I felt the author was struggling a little in the third section and editing could have improved it – and it is a long book of 551 pages. It is also puzzling that the author includes a list of the very lengthy set of characters, many of whom have very similar names, at the front of the book, and a chronology of the historical and political events that shape the action at the end. Why wasn't this chronology up front? That would have been very helpful. And, nowhere is there a guide to the many Arabic and French phrases that appear throughout the text – that would have been useful too, even though I was able to puzzle many of them out without resorting to a dictionary or the internet. A map, better than the one on the end papers, would also have been a good idea. These things bring the book, and my opinion, down overall.
