Read Online Princess Sultana's Daughters by Jean Sasson - Free Book Online
Authors: Jean Sasson
Tags: women in the middle east, islamic women, jean sasson, women in saudi arabia, muslim princess, islam and women, saudi arabia royalty, women of middle eastern, islam and gender studies, womens rights in the middle east, womens rights in saudi arabia
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Kareem and I
refused to argue with our child. At those moments Maha argued with
herself, even going so far as to speak in two voices! Maha’s doctor
assured us that eventually Maha’s mental state would improve beyond
our expectations.
How we prayed for that moment to arrive!
The intense visits wore poorly on Kareem. I
saw my husband age before my eyes. I said to him one evening, “If
nothing else, I have learned that aging has nothing to do with the
accumulation of years. Aging is the inevitable defeat of parents by
their young.”
A small twinkle came into Kareem’s eyes, the
first sign of joy I had seen in many days. He claimed, in all
seriousness, that it could not be so. “If that were the case,
Sultana, your long-suffering father would appear the oldest living
man on the planet.”
Pleased that my husband had showed a glimmer
of life, I let the reference pass and leaned fondly on his
shoulder, relieved that our family tragedy had brought us closer
together rather than pushing us further apart. At that moment I
reminded myself that no person leads an irreproachable life, and I
forgave my husband for the trauma I had endured in his futile quest
for a second wife. The event had taken place years before, and we
had repaired our damaged relationship, but until now, I had not
forgiven my husband for his desire to take another woman into our
home. Full of emotions I had assumed I’d lost forever, I
congratulated myself on the worth of the man I had wed.
*
In time, Kareem and I witnessed a miracle.
Maha’s doctor was, as I had expected, a man of genius and
perseverance, a devoted physician whose natural abilities soothed
my daughter’s frightful demons. In happy obscurity, while locked in
the drabbest of offices in the dreariest of hospital wards, he
combined his medical knowl- edge with his experience in the world
of Arab women and gained my daughter’s trust. With this trust, the
physician opened her wounds, and torrents of jealousy, hate, and
anger spilled from Maha’s trembling hands onto the pages of an
ordinary notepad, producing an extraordinary journal.
Weeks later, while reading one of these short
but disturbing stories from her notes, given freely from Maha’s
hands to her parents, Kareem and I discovered the depths of our
child’s plunge into a world more sinister than either of us could
ever have imagined.
Living in the Mirage of Saudi Arabia
or
The Harem of Dreams
by
Princess Maha Al Sa’ud
During the dark period of Saudi Arabian
history, ambitious desert women could only dream of harems stocked
with hard-muscled men, well endowed with instruments of pleasure.
In the enlightened year of 2010, when the matriarchal family
ascended into power, with the most intelligent woman crowned queen,
women became the political, economic, and legal authority of
society.
The great wealth accumulated during the oil
boom of the year 2000, the boom that had crippled the powers of the
United States, Europe, and Japan to that of third world powers,
assured the land of Arabia plenty for generations to come. With
little but time on their hands, women addressed social issues that
had plagued the land for more years than they could remember.
A small minority of women voted to abolish
polygamy, the practice of taking four husbands, while the majority,
remembering the evils the practice had spawned when the kingdom was
a patriarchal society, recognized that while the system was not the
best that they could devise, it was the only social system that
embittered women would receive. The pleasures of love that had been
forbidden now wormed their way into the mind of every woman, even
that of the waiflike Malaak, the daughter of the queen of Saudi
Arabia.
Malaak danced a hot dance of love,
challenging her favorite lover, Shadi, with a gold sovereign
between her lips, motioning with her head for the man to pull it
out with his teeth.
Malaak was small and brown-skinned with
delicate features. Her lover was large and
refused to argue with our child. At those moments Maha argued with
herself, even going so far as to speak in two voices! Maha’s doctor
assured us that eventually Maha’s mental state would improve beyond
our expectations.
How we prayed for that moment to arrive!
The intense visits wore poorly on Kareem. I
saw my husband age before my eyes. I said to him one evening, “If
nothing else, I have learned that aging has nothing to do with the
accumulation of years. Aging is the inevitable defeat of parents by
their young.”
A small twinkle came into Kareem’s eyes, the
first sign of joy I had seen in many days. He claimed, in all
seriousness, that it could not be so. “If that were the case,
Sultana, your long-suffering father would appear the oldest living
man on the planet.”
Pleased that my husband had showed a glimmer
of life, I let the reference pass and leaned fondly on his
shoulder, relieved that our family tragedy had brought us closer
together rather than pushing us further apart. At that moment I
reminded myself that no person leads an irreproachable life, and I
forgave my husband for the trauma I had endured in his futile quest
for a second wife. The event had taken place years before, and we
had repaired our damaged relationship, but until now, I had not
forgiven my husband for his desire to take another woman into our
home. Full of emotions I had assumed I’d lost forever, I
congratulated myself on the worth of the man I had wed.
*
In time, Kareem and I witnessed a miracle.
Maha’s doctor was, as I had expected, a man of genius and
perseverance, a devoted physician whose natural abilities soothed
my daughter’s frightful demons. In happy obscurity, while locked in
the drabbest of offices in the dreariest of hospital wards, he
combined his medical knowl- edge with his experience in the world
of Arab women and gained my daughter’s trust. With this trust, the
physician opened her wounds, and torrents of jealousy, hate, and
anger spilled from Maha’s trembling hands onto the pages of an
ordinary notepad, producing an extraordinary journal.
Weeks later, while reading one of these short
but disturbing stories from her notes, given freely from Maha’s
hands to her parents, Kareem and I discovered the depths of our
child’s plunge into a world more sinister than either of us could
ever have imagined.
Living in the Mirage of Saudi Arabia
or
The Harem of Dreams
by
Princess Maha Al Sa’ud
During the dark period of Saudi Arabian
history, ambitious desert women could only dream of harems stocked
with hard-muscled men, well endowed with instruments of pleasure.
In the enlightened year of 2010, when the matriarchal family
ascended into power, with the most intelligent woman crowned queen,
women became the political, economic, and legal authority of
society.
The great wealth accumulated during the oil
boom of the year 2000, the boom that had crippled the powers of the
United States, Europe, and Japan to that of third world powers,
assured the land of Arabia plenty for generations to come. With
little but time on their hands, women addressed social issues that
had plagued the land for more years than they could remember.
A small minority of women voted to abolish
polygamy, the practice of taking four husbands, while the majority,
remembering the evils the practice had spawned when the kingdom was
a patriarchal society, recognized that while the system was not the
best that they could devise, it was the only social system that
embittered women would receive. The pleasures of love that had been
forbidden now wormed their way into the mind of every woman, even
that of the waiflike Malaak, the daughter of the queen of Saudi
Arabia.
Malaak danced a hot dance of love,
challenging her favorite lover, Shadi, with a gold sovereign
between her lips, motioning with her head for the man to pull it
out with his teeth.
Malaak was small and brown-skinned with
delicate features. Her lover was large and
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