Chapter 2 - The Search - Grace Hill

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Naguib Mahfouz, Egyptian literature, existentialism, identity, love, relationships, social commentary, cultural norms, social class, personal growth, literary style, literary legacy, literary analysis, literary adaptation, literary criticism, Cairo, modernity, cultural influence, societal expectations, individualism, human nature, psychological analysis, Arab culture, family, urbanization

Episode Transcript

(00:00):
Chapter two, Ruth mac donald drewup her little electric runabout sharply at the
crossing as the station gate suddenly clangeddown in her way, and sat back
with a look of annoyance on herface. Michael of the crossing was so
over careful sometimes that it became trying. She was sure there was plenty of
time to cross before the down train. She glanced at her tiny wrist watch

(00:24):
and frowned. Why it was fullyfive minutes before the train was due.
What could Michael mean standing there withhis flag so importantly and that determined look
upon his face. She glanced downthe platform and was surprised to find a
crowd there must be especially expected.What was it a convention of some sort

(00:44):
for a picnic? It was latein the season for picnics, and not
quite soon enough for a college footballgame. Who were they anyway? She
looked over them and was astonished tofind people of every class, the workers,
the wealthy, the every day men, women and children, all with
a waiting attitude and a strange seriousnessupon them. As she looked closer,

(01:07):
she saw tears on some faces,and handkerchiefs everywhere in evidence. Had someone
died? Was this a funeral trainthey were awaiting. Strange she had not
heard. Then the band suddenly burstout upon her with a familiar wail,
there's a long, long trilow windinginto the lendera dreams. And behind came

(01:34):
the muffled tramping of feet. Notaccustomed to marching together, Ruth suddenly sat
up very straight and began to watchan unfamiliar awe upon her. This must
be the first draftsmen just going away. Of course, why had she not
thought of it at once? Shehad read about their going and had heard
people mention it the last week,but it had not entered much into her

(01:57):
thoughts. She had not realized thatit would be a ceremony of public interest
like this. She had no friendsto whom it would touch. The young
men of her circle had all takenwarning in plenty of time and found themselves
a commission somewhere, two of themhaving settled up matters. But a few
days before she had thought of thesedraftmen, when she had thought of them

(02:21):
at all, only when she sawmention of them in the newspapers, and
then as a lot of workmen orfarmers boys who were reluctant to leave their
homes and had to be forced intopatriotism in this way. It had not
occurred to her that there were manyhonorable young men who would take this way
of putting themselves at the disposal oftheir country in her time of need,

(02:43):
without attempting to feather a nice littlenest for themselves. Now she watched them
seriously, and found, to herastonishment that she knew many of them.
There were three college fellows in thefront ranks whom she had met. She
had danced with them, and beentaken out to supper by them, and
had a calling acquaintance with their sisters. The sister of one stood on the

(03:05):
sidewalk now in the common crowd,quite near to the runabout, and seemed
to have forgotten that anybody was by. Her face was drenched with tears and
her lips were quivering. Behind herwas a gray haired woman with a skewy
blouse and a faded dark blue sergeskirt too long for the prevailing fashion.
The tears were trickling down her cheeksalso, and an old man with a

(03:28):
crutch and a little round eyed girlseemed to belong to the party. The
old man's lips were set and hewas looking at the boys with his heart
in his eyes. Ruth shrank backnot to intrude upon such open sorrow,
and glanced at the line again asthey straggled down the road to the platform.
Fifty serious, grave eyed young menwith determined mien and sorrow in the

(03:51):
very droop of their shoulders. Onecould see how they hated all this publicity
and display this tense moment of farewellin the eyes of the town. And
yet how tender they felt toward thosedear ones who had gathered thus to do
them honor as they went away todo their part in the great world struggle
for liberty. As she looked closer, the girls saw they were not mature

(04:14):
men, as at first glance theyhad seemed, but most of them mere
boys. There was the boy thatmowed the MacDonald lawn, and the yellow
haired grocery boy. There was thegas man, and the nice young plumber
who fixed the leak in the waterpipes the other day, and the clerk
from the post office and the cashierfrom the bank. What made them look

(04:34):
so old at first sight? Whyit was as if sorrow and responsibility had
suddenly been put upon them like agarment. That morning for a uniform,
and they walked in the shadow ofthe great sadness that had come upon the
world. She understood that perhaps evenup to the very day before, they

(04:54):
had most of them been merry,careless boys. But now they were men,
made so in a night by thehorrible sin that had brought about this
thing called war. For the firsttime since the war began, Ruth MacDonald
had a vision of what the warmeant. She had been knitting, of
course, with all the rest.She had spent long mornings at the Red

(05:15):
Cross rooms. She was on herway there this very minute, when Michael
and the procession had interrupted her course. She had made miles of surgical dressing
and picked tons of oakum. Shehad bade her men friends cheery goodbyes when
they went to officers training camps,and with the other girls, welcomed and
admired their uniforms when they came homeon short furloughs, one by one winning

(05:39):
his stripes and commission. They wereall men whom she had known in society.
They had wealth and position, andfound it easy to get into the
kind of thing that pleased them inthe army or navy. The danger they
were facing seemed hardly a negligible quantity. It was the fashion to look on
it that way. Ruth had neverthought about it before. She had even

(06:00):
been severe in her judgment of afew mothers who worried about their sons and
wanted them to get exempt in someway. But these stern, loyal mothers,
who stood in close ranks, withheavy lines of sacrifice upon their faces,
tears on their cheeks, love andself abnegation in their eyes, gave
her a new view of the world. These were the ones who would be

(06:23):
in actual poverty, some of themwithout their boys, and whose lives would
be empty indeed when they went forth. Ruth MacDonald had never before realized the
suffering this war was causing individuals untilshe saw the faces of those women with
their sons and brothers and lovers.Until she saw the faces of the brave
boys. For the moment, allthe rollicking lightness gone, and only the

(06:46):
pain of parting and the mists ofthe unknown future in their eyes. It
came to the girl with a suddenpang that she was left out of all
this, that really it made littledifference to her whether America was in a
war or not. Her life wouldgo on just the same, a pleasant
monotony of bustle and amusement. Therewould be the same round of social affairs

(07:09):
and regular engagements, spiced with theexcitement of war work and occasional visiting uniforms.
There was no one going forth fromtheir home to fight whose going would
put the light of life out forher and cause her to feel sad beyond
the ordinary superficial sadness for the absenceof one's playmates. She liked them all

(07:30):
her friends, and shrank from havingthem in danger, although it was splendid
to have them doing something real atlast. In truth, until this moment,
the danger had seemed so remote,the casualty list of which people spoke
with abated breath, so much athing of vast unknown numbers, that it
had scarcely come within her realization asyet. But now she suddenly read the

(07:53):
truth in the suffering eyes of thesepeople who were met to say goodbye,
perhaps a last goodbye, to thosewho were dearer than liked to them.
How would she, Ruth MacDonald feel, if one of those boys were her
brother or lover. It was inconceivablydreadful. The band blared on, and
the familiar words insisted themselves upon herunwilling mind. There's a long, long

(08:18):
night of waiting. A sob ather right made her start and then turn
away quickly from the sight of amother's grief as she clung to a frail
daughter for support, sobbing with utterabandon while the daughter kept begging her to
be calm, for Tom's sake.It was all horrible. Why had she

(08:39):
gotten into this situation? Aunt Rhodawould blame her for it. Aunt Rhoda
would say it was too conspicuous rightthere in the front ranks. She put
her hand on the starter and glancedout, hoping to be able to back
out and get away. But theroad behind was blocked several deep with cars,
and the crowd had closed in uponher and about her on every side.

(09:01):
Retreat was impossible. However, shenoticed with relief that the matter of
being conspicuous need not trouble her.Nobody was looking her way. All eyes
were turned in one direction, towardthat straggling, determined line that wound up
from the borough Hall, past thepost office and bank, to the station,
where the Home Guard stood uniformed inopen, silent ranks, doing honor

(09:24):
to the boys who were going tofight for them. Ruth's eyes went reluctantly
back to the marching line again.Somehow it struck her that they would not
have seemed so forlorn if they hadworn new trig uniforms instead of rusty,
varied civilian clothes. They seemed likean ill prepared sacrifice passing in review.

(09:45):
Then suddenly her gaze was riveted upona single figure, the last man in
the procession, marching alone, withuplifted head and a look of self abnegation
on his strong young face. Allat once, something sharp seemed to through
her soul and hold her with along quiver of pain, and she sat
looking straight ahead, staring with akind of wild frenzy at John Cameron,

(10:09):
walking alone at the end of theline. She remembered him in her youngest
school days, the imp of thegrammar school, with a twinkle in his
eye and an irrepressible grin on hishandsome face. Nothing had ever daunted him,
and no punishment had ever stopped hismischief. He never studied his lessons,
yet he always seemed to know enoughto carry him through, and would

(10:31):
sometimes burst out with astonishing knowledge whereothers failed. But there was always that
joke on his lips, and thatwide, delightful grin that made him the
worshiped afar of all the little girls. He had dropped a rose on her
desk ones as he lounged late andlaughing to his seat after recess, apparently

(10:52):
unaware that his teacher was calling himto order. She could feel the thrill
of her little, childish heart nowas she realized that he had given the
rose to her. The next term, she was sent to a private school
and saw no more of him,save an occasional glimpse in passing him on
the street. But she never hadforgotten him, And now and then she
had heard little scraps of news abouthim. He was working his way through

(11:16):
college. He was on the footballteam and the baseball team. She knew
vaguely that his father had died andthat their money was gone, but beyond
that she had had no knowledge ofhim. They had drifted apart. He
was not of her world, andgossip about him seldom came her way.
He had long ago ceased to lookat her when they happened to pass on

(11:37):
the street. He doubtless had forgottenher, or thought she had forgotten him.
Or it might even be that hedid not wish to presume upon an
acquaintance begun when she was too youngto have a choice of whom should be
her friends. But the memory ofthat rose had never quite faded from her
heart, even though she had beenbut seven, and always she had after

(12:00):
him when she chanced to see himon the street with a kind of admiration,
and wonder Now suddenly she saw himin another light. The laugh was
gone from his lips, and thetwinkle from his eyes. He looked as
he had looked the day he foughtChuck Woodcock for tying a string across the
sidewalk and tripping up the little girlson the way to school. It came

(12:22):
to her like a revelation that hewas going forth now in such a way
to fight the world foe, ina way he was going to fight for
her, to make the world asafe place for girls such as she.
All the terrible stories of Belgium flashedacross her mind, and she was lifted
on a great wave of gratitude tothis boy friend of her babyhood for going

(12:43):
out to defend her. All therest of the straggling line of draftmen were
going out for the same purpose,perhaps, but it did not occur to
her that they were anything to heruntil she saw John Cameron. All those
friends of her own world who weretraining for officers, they too were going
to fight in the same way todefend the world. But she had not

(13:03):
thought of it in that way before. It took a sight of John Cameron's
high bearing and serious face to bringthe knowledge to her mind. She thought
no longer of trying to get away. She seemed held to the spot by
a new insight into life. Shecould not take her eyes from the face
of the young man. She forgotthat she was staying, forgot that she

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was staring. She could no morecontrol the swelling thoughts of horror that surged
over her and took possession of herthan she could have controlled a mob if
it had suddenly swept down upon her. The gates presently lifted silently to let
the little procession pass over to herside of the tracks, and within a
few short minutes the special train thatwas to bear the men away to camp

(13:48):
came rattling up, laden with othervictims of the chance that sent some men
on ahead to be pioneers in thecamps. These were a noisy, jolly
bunch phaps. Having had their ownsaid partings, they were only trying to
brace themselves against the scenes of otherpartings through which they must pass. All
the way along the line. Theymust be reminded of their own mothers and

(14:11):
sisters and sweethearts. Something of this, Ruth MacDonald seemed to define to herself
as startled and annoyed by the clamorof the strangers. In the midst of
the sadness of the moment, sheturned to look at the crowding heads in
the car windows, and caught theeye of an irrepressible youth. Think of
me over there, he shouted,waving a flippant hand and twinkling his eyes

(14:35):
at the beautiful girl in her car. Another time Ruth would have resented such
familiarity. But now something touched herspirit with an inexpressible pity, and she
let a tiny ripple of a smilepass over her lovely face as her eyes
traveled on down the platform in searchof the tall form of John Cameron.
In the moment of the oncoming train. She had somehow lost sight of him.

(14:58):
Ah, there he was, stoopingover a little white haired woman,
taking her tenderly in his arms tokiss her. The girl's eyes lingered on
him. His whole attitude was sucha revelation of the man, the rollicking
boy had become, it seemed topleasantly round out her thought of him.
The whistle sounded, the drafted mengave one last ringing hand, clasp,

(15:20):
one last look, and sprang onboard. John Cameron was the last to
board the train. He stood onthe lower step of the last car as
it began to move slowly. Hishat was lifted, and he stood with
slightly lifted chin and eyes that lookedas if they had sounded the depths of
all sadness and surrendered himself to whateverhad been decreed. There was settled sorrow

(15:43):
in all the lines of his fineface. Ruth was startled by the change
in it, by the look ofthe boy and the man. Had the
war done that for him? Justin one short summer? Had it done
that for the thousands who were goingto fight for her? As she was
sitting in her luxurious car with abundle of wool at her feet, and
presuming to bear her part by mereknitting, poor little useless woman, that

(16:07):
she was a thing to send aman forth from everything he counted dear or
wanted to do, into suffering andhardship and death. Perhaps she shuddered as
she watched his face, with itsstrong, uplifted look and its unutterable sorrow.
She had not thought he could looklike that. Oh, he would
be gay tomorrow, like the rest, of course, with his merry jest

(16:32):
and his contagious grin and making lightof the serious business of war. He
would not be the boy he usedto be without the ability to do that.
But she would never forget how hehad looked in this farewell minute,
while he was gazing his last onthe life of his boyhood and being borne
away into a dubious future. Shefelt a hopelessly yearning, as if had

(16:53):
there been time, she would haveliked to have told him how much she
appreciated his doing this great deed forher and for all her sisters. Has
it ever been fully explained why theeyes of one person looking hard across a
crowd will draw the eyes of another. The train had slipped along ten feet
or more and was gaining speed whenJohn Cameron's eyes met those of Ruth MacDonald,

(17:17):
and her vivid, speaking face flashedits message to his soul. A
pleased wonder sprang into his eyes,a question as his glance lingered, held
by the tumult in her face andthe unmistakable personality of her glance. Then
his face lit up with its oldsmile, graver, oh much and more
deferential than it used to be,with a certain courtliness in it that spoke

(17:41):
of maturity of spirit. He liftedhis hat a little higher and waved it
just a trifle in recognition of hergreeting, wondering in sudden confusion if he
were really not mistaken after all,and had perhaps been appropriating a farewell that
belonged to someone else, and amazedand pleased at the flutter of her handkerchief

(18:03):
in reply. The train was movingrapidly now in the midst of a deep,
throaty cheer that sounded more like asob, And still he stood on
that bottom step with his hat lifted, and let his eyes linger on the
slender, girlish figure in the car, with the morning sun glinting across her
red gold hair and the beautiful,soft rose color in her cheeks. As

(18:25):
the train swept past the little sheltershed, he bethought himself and turned a
farewell, tender smile on the whitehaired woman who stood watching him through a
mist of tears. Then his eyeswent back for one last glimpse of the
girl, and so he flashed outof sight around the curve end of chapter two.