I admit, this wasn’t my first choice for a book about Morocco. What I really wanted to read was Lord of the Atlas, but the library only had In Arabian Nights (unless I wanted to read a travel guide). So although I had some reservations from reading the Goodreads reviews, I decided to borrow it, figuring that any book centered around tales can’t be bad.

In Arabian Nights follows Tahir Shah’s quest to find the story that’s within him, a tradition that he heard from one of the Berbers in Morocco. As he tries to find the story (and help his friends), he collects tales from those he meets and even takes us on journeys from Casablanca to Marrakesh, Fes, and even briefly, Ouzzargate. 

The highlight of this book is, as I expected, the stories. Tahir Shah has collected a treasure trove of Moroccan stories, from those that come from 1001 Nights to Joha tales (or ‘John’ tales for the Anglo speakers) and everything in between. The stories are woven into the narrative itself rather than being separated into their own section, showing the importance of each story to the whole tale. I greatly enjoyed reading these tales as well as the descriptions of the men he meets. 

The part that I’m a bit iffy about and that made me think is his constant comparisons of Occidental and Oriental culture. Specifically, the generalisation of Oriental culture as valuing the spoken word over the written word. I was reminded that Oriental culture is far more than just China/Japan/Korea/India, but at the same time, I couldn’t help wondering if Shah’s flattening of “Morocco culture is THE representation of Oriental culture” and the repeated use of the word was accurate either. 

The weakness of the book are two (to me, anyway). The first, which is what made me hesitate reading it, is the dominance of male-driven stories and ideas. Shah acknowledges once or twice that women generally don’t mix with men in public, but the women that are depicted frequently are generally one dimensional in negative ways. Most wives are so bossy their husbands have to spend all afternoon hiding in cafes (okay, this part does have some similarity with Chinese culture. In some dialect groups, the stereotype of the men is that they just sit around and drink tea while their wives do everything needed). The two housemaids spoil his son, one is young and beautiful and the other is fierce and bossy. His wife, Rachana, worries about him and doesn’t always find Morocco the adventure he does. 

In fact, it was Rachana that made me realise how absent women are from the story. She’s mentioned frequently but even by the end of the book, I have no clear understanding of her. What is she like as a person? What does she do every day? What is her perspective on the situation. The way I read it, Rachana is almost like a minor character, brought out when the story demands it. Other minor male characters, like the cobbler, are given more characterisation in their speeches about the meaning of story and their work.

It also doesn’t help that Shah is very comfortable describing rather horrific events neutrally (except when it’s his own torture). The story of his housemaid and her sister being beaten by their father is presented without comment and without action from anyone, as is a story about a father who only talks to his newborn son and ignores the other two of the triplets because they are girls. In the end, the two girls (who were expected to live), pass away and the boy (who was not expected to live), continues to live. The point of this story seems to lie in the fact that the father told the Mahabharata to the son and that “the words slip into the subconsciousness”. The fact that two girls have died and their father doesn’t seem to care and didn’t seem to do anything for them while they were alive is just left unremarked. 

Another example I noticed: twice in the book, we have incidents of women running away (from their husbands or from arranged marriages) and their families treating them as dead as a result. We’re given insight into the man, when he is a regular character, we are given insights into how this is a matter of honour for the family, but we are given absolutely no insight into why the women wanted to run away (apart from one male character saying that beautiful women must be admired as though they are flowers) and their struggles in doing so and how the world of women reacted outwardly and inwardly. 

It’s incidents like this that make me realise that for all the positive properties of stories that Shah talks about, it does not seem to make him alert to the problems of half the human race. 

The second is that Shah seems to have a small case of main character syndrome. His presence alone is enough, his appreciation for Moroccan culture deeply appreciated, and people will even waive off his dinner bill because he asked for a second serving. A little girl from the neighbourhood (who appears only for this incident) even gives him flowers for not looking down on them. I try to believe that nonfiction books like these try to stick to the facts, or at least the spirit of the facts, but the cumulative of so many of these types of incidents made me wonder if Shah was praising himself just a little too much. 

All that said, despite the weaknesses of the book (and I consider the first a lot more serious than the other), this was generally an interesting read. I appreciated the tales and the descriptions of Morocco, but I’m still reserving judgment as to whether it’s an accurate depiction of Moroccan society as a whole.