Storyteller of Marrakesh, The

To listen to a story without raising objects, without even the compulsion to understand but simply to be familiar, should always suffice. A story is a work of contemplation and you must accept responsibility for it inasmuch as your attention contributes to its vitality and its life. Some thought she was extraordinarily beautiful and kind while others saw her as unreasonably provocative.

Roy-Bhattacharya really delved into the various perceptions of women in the Muslim world of Morocco and I appreciated the respect and care he gave in presenting these views. The Storyteller of Marrakesh is not a usual mystery, but I appreciated being given the feel and the picture of life in the Jemaa of Marrakesh. I was especially thankful that Roy-Bhattacharya was thoughtful enough to include a glossary. I found it most helpful. May 25, Mylissa rated it did not like it Shelves: I didn't hate this book. Nor did I like it. At first, I was a little worried I didn't understand it, but I don't think that is the case either.

The book wants to emulate the living traditions of telling stories out loud with a group of people, investigating all the different aspects, all the different truths of a matter, because everyone has a slightly different perspective.

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But it's executed pretty poorly. It suffers from what I thought Les Miserables suffered from when I read that. There are m I didn't hate this book. There are multiple stories here, but I don't need to hear about the entire history of a character before he or she is introduced if he or she is not going to be important. I rolled my eyes when I battled through 70 pages of Waterloo in Les Mis for one sentence of material that moved anything along, and ended up battling through similar slush to try to get at the meat of this story.

Except instead of essential characters, it's the background of each person who is going to give approx. In the end, this story didn't have a lot of meat. It has a lot of tangents, and it has a good idea - the idea of truth, and how relative that is. But it doesn't end up telling you a story, nor does it really get deep into the idea of relative truth, since there is always someone there disagreeing. It tells a lot of bits of story, and it hints that maybe there is more to it, but by the time it gets into the real meat, the reader's been chewing on gristle so long that they've lost interest.

My feeling was more, finally! Not to mention it wasn't enough to fill you up, or even make you want to beg for more. The book isn't successful. If this is how storytelling is done in Marrakesh, maybe it doesn't translate well into written word. Maybe the plot was weak. Maybe there were too many tangents. Maybe it was the structure of the story. Maybe it was just bad.

I'm not sure if it was an idea that failed, or the story itself that failed, or where it failed, but it wasn't successful. It didn't hold my interest, it didn't make me want more. All I wanted was for someone to get to the point, and that isn't what is wanted when someone is telling a story. I was only emotionally invested in how many pages I had left. Oct 20, Donna rated it did not like it Shelves: The following extract appears on page of this novel, a mere 20 pages from the end: Your story was not onlu salubrious, it was a thoroughly misbegotten endeavor.

There was nothing in it to emulate, no universal values or aspirations, nothing - nothing at all - worth salvaging. If there was any truth in it, it lay in its level of degredation, truly one of a kind. For someone li The following extract appears on page of this novel, a mere 20 pages from the end: For someone like myself, who is married to a Moroccan, who truly knows Morocco well and has a relationship with the country itself, its people, its culture. As a person who loves Morocco as her home - this book is a sore disappointment.

This is clearly a tourist's novel. I can't imagine its author having spent more than a holiday there, or spent much time with Moroccan people at all. He is able to describe the locale well, and has done his research into artisana etc. However, his characters, especially in dialogue, brought not one iota of a true Moroccan voice. Every single character in this novel spoke with a highly educated register, using the vocabulary of a well-versed poet - even the poorest, uneducated street-performer!

One, unbelievable, two, Moroccans tend to keep things simple and direct. I have many Moroccan friends who tell me stories, and not one of them dances in circles the way the Hassan of this story does. When I read the acknowledgements section of the book, I noticed not one Moroccan name was thanked. Surely if you were writing a story about Moroccan people, you would at least enlist the aid of at least one local in order to create a realistic portrayal. It certainly felt as if he was just making it up! Regarding Jemaa el Fna.

One has to wonder if the author ever visited it after dark. Well into the night it's bustling with foreigners ans Moroccans, yet he makes it sound foreboding and empty save for the most devilish of Morocco's underworld! Had this novel been written about another country that I wasn't so familiar with, would I have liked it better? In terms of plot, it's not a bad mystery story. I'm afraid the inaccuracies in its depiction of Morocco killed it for me though.

The book begins with the proposition that there is no truth, and only opinion.

This is a fundamental premise of the book and important from the perspective of its narration. Hassan, the primary narrator begins his story at the Jemaa el Fna, surrounded by his listeners, the motive behind the narration supposedly to prove the innocence of his brother Mustafa, who is in jail for a crime he seemingly did not commit. It involves the disappearance of an exceedingly beautiful woman who tantalised all t The book begins with the proposition that there is no truth, and only opinion.

It involves the disappearance of an exceedingly beautiful woman who tantalised all the square's inhabitants and visitors, when she made an appearance along with her male companion. Though Hassan starts the narration, some of his listeners add their versions of what happened on the night of the event, some contradictory, some corroborative. There are arguments, and debates of what actually happened and truth being an opinion is brought out many a time.

The narrative shifts gears all the while, as speakers delve deep into their pasts for explanations, and Hassan himself highlights events of his past to give the listeners an insight into his and Mustafa's lives and behaviour.

The prose is elaborate, and vivid enough to be almost considered poetry as the author describes people, places and events in all their textures and facets. It is by no means a racy read nor is it gripping in narrative. As Hassan himself says, if that's the kind of entertainment you want, you're better off at a cinema. It's not an easy style to get used to, but no harm in giving it a shot!

Jun 03, Athenameilahn rated it did not like it Shelves: This book gives the impression that the author had a deep passion for Morocco and wanted to write about it but didn't have the expertise to craft a non-fiction travelogue so he decided to turn his random bits of info into a poorly executed novel. If the author had spent more time developing the characters so I cared about them, it would be possible to overlook the open ending. Alternatively, if he had created an actual plot line I could have overlooked the shallow characters.

Jun 09, Jeruen rated it it was amazing. An earlier version of this article was first published as Book Review: This is one sensual piece of work. I initially grabbed this book from the New Releases section of the library, because I was intrigued by the Arabic calligraphy that is featured on the cover, but I ended up just spending 3 days reading this spectacular and magnificent work.

This is a novel that has many facets. First, one can say that this is a novel a An earlier version of this article was first published as Book Review: First, one can say that this is a novel about a storyteller named Hassan, who earns a living by telling stories in the famous Djemaa el Fna, the marketplace and square in Marrakesh that has a life of its own. Hassan's father is also a storyteller, and he has inherited the trade from the family. Hassan has two other brothers, Ahmed, who is a businessman; and Mustafa, who is the enfant terrible. Throughout the novel, Hassan tells the story of two foreigners who went missing.

This is also a novel about the Djemaa el Fna itself. This place is magical, and has a life of its own. While reading the novel, I was amazed by how vivid the descriptions were of the orange sellers, the acrobats, the storytellers, the mosque, and so forth.

The author definitely did a good job making the place alive for me, who hasn't been there before. Thirdly, this is a novel about memory. This book is written in the postmodern style, employing literary tricks such as making use of multiple narrators, multiple perspectives, and metafiction there are stories embedded within stories: I especially enjoyed the fact that the narratives somehow contradicted each other. One narrator would give one take on it, and another would claim that the previous narration was a fabrication. Finally, this novel is about love.

Yes, the title might obscure it, but in the end, it is a story about one of the most powerful manifestations of love, as it involves self-sacrifice. In favor of not spoiling the story, I would not give away more details, but I definitely was surprised as the story unfolded. I commend the author for writing a piece of fiction such as this.

I loved the way how he slowly unraveled the big picture for me, providing me with little clues and pieces of the puzzle along the way. Thus, I progressively gained a better understanding of the characters, the location, the motives, and the overall theme. That book had multiple narrators too, and was also considered postmodern literature. My praise for that book was a little reserved, but for this current book, I give it complete praise. The way it was written, it was so sensual and evocative, that I felt I was one of the people who sat down and listened as Hassan spun his tale in the Djemaa el Fna in Marrakesh.

Other minor points that I also enjoyed include the large cultural references that this book has provided. I haven't been to Morocco, but I felt like I learned a lot about Moroccan culture and society just by reading this book. It portrayed a good picture of Moroccan social dynamics, provided by scenes of paternal authority and men-women relationships.

Moroccan culture, and Islamic culture as well, has been a mystery to me, and this book has allowed me to increase no matter how small my limited knowledge of this part of the world that I haven't ventured to yet. This book definitely puts Morocco into my destination list. To conclude, I don't think I can say anything negative about this book. I am glad that I opted to pick it up, as it was one of the most wonderful books I have read recently.

Needless to say, I am giving this book 5 out of 5 stars. Nov 20, Arindam Mallick rated it liked it Shelves: Things either are what they appear to be; or they neither are, nor appear to be; or they are, and do not appear to be; or they are not, and yet appear to be. Perhaps that is what is borne out by my story in the end. That might explain why, instead of the truth, I offer you a greater consolation: His stage is the central square of Marrakesh, Djemaa el Fna, where the myriad wonders of this great city surround and inspire him. What happened to them, he wonders out aloud. Were they seeking personal escape, the beginning to oblivion?

The storyteller of Marrakech

What is life, after all, but a passing fancy? Apr 01, Jim rated it really liked it. As various witnesses describe their encounters with the couple--their tales overlapping, confirming, and contradicting each other--Hassan hopes to light upon details that will explain what happened to them, and to absolve his own brother, who is in prison for their disappearance. As testimonies circle an elusive truth, the co Each year, the storyteller, Hassan, gathers listeners to the city square to share their recollections of a young, foreign couple who mysteriously disappeared years earlier.

When was the last time you were read a story? This book has that feel about it. Not all readers loved this book as much as I did. Their explanations are reasonable: On Goodreads when I checked there were 97 reviews and their star-ratings are across the board; the dozen one-star reviews completely floored me though. I never expected to see that.

This book was, for me, a refreshing read. You can read the full review on my blog here. Nov 19, Murdo Morrison rated it liked it. The book has an interesting premise - the central character, Hassan, is a story teller of Berber descent who has come to the main square in the city of Marrakesh in Morocco to practice his art. The story he has chosen to tell relates to the apparent disappearance of a married couple who were visiting the city as tourists several years before.

Throughout the long night of story telling the audience joins in, sharing their individual accounts of the events of that disappearance. The book explores The book has an interesting premise - the central character, Hassan, is a story teller of Berber descent who has come to the main square in the city of Marrakesh in Morocco to practice his art. The book explores a number of themes, the most important of which is the exploration of 'reality' as viewed by individuals with different backgrounds, perceptions and agendas.

Each version of the story is different in subtle and not so subtle ways. A parallel theme relates the story of Hassan's family with a central focus on his brother Mustafa who sacrifices a great deal for a romantic notion of love that is based more on his mind's idealized creation than a viable relationship. I notice that other ratings and reviews of this book range across a wide spectrum.

Joydeep Roy-Bhattacharya - Books - The Storyteller of Marrakesh

I think I understand why. Superficially the book is about the unraveling of a story, the attempt to explore a mysterious disappearance. On a different level, the book also examines how we construct the world and events in our mind. As such, the book ends in an ambiguous manner that befits the context but will likely leave many readers who seek plot resolution unhappy. I found the book to be interesting for its portrayal of a culture and place that I am unfamiliar with.

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I also found the ending to be unsatisfactory but realize that it suited the main themes of the book. You may love or hate this book depending on your reading preferences but there is also reward in the rich descriptions of place and individuals and the exploration of how our attitudes shape our views. It as an intriguing tale with its underlying theme of What is truth? Hassan is a storyteller who, each year, comes from his mountain home to tell the tale of a Western couple who visited the great square of Jemaa el Fna in Marrakesh years ago and disappeared; his brother had confessed to the murder of the woman though no trace of her or her companion had ever been found.

In an attempt to 'The Storyteller of Marrakesh' by Jpydeep Roy-Bhattacharya promised a lot but left me a little disappointed. In an attempt to discover the truth, Hassan encourages those who had seen the couple or were there on the fateful night to share their recollections. The story then becomes stories within the story. In addition, the author diverges into other stories of Hassan's childhood and his relationship with his father and brothers.

While the stories are entertaining, everyone tells their story from their perspective with contradictory accounts of the couple. The author repeatedly emphasises the compelling, hypnotic beauty of the woman which is why everyone remembered the couple but which I found to be annoying, as if he was trying to suggest she was otherworldly or had mystical powers.

If the author had stuck to a more conventional description of a Western couple it may have been more convincing. I found the story too slow paced, though the descriptions of the square are evocative, bringing to life the sights, sounds, and smells of this fascinating place. Readers who have visited Morocco will love the references to the various places To me the story is more a beautiful homage to Jemaa el Fna than the mystery itself which seemed rather inconsequential.

Two stars "it was ok". Never even got close. This has a few side stories, but largely just rehashes the telling of a foreign couples single night in the Jemaa market square of Marrakesh. These are simply many people recollections of the events and the event leading up to the disappearance of the couple. Sometimes the roles are reversed, and the giver becomes the taker. We both do the talking, we both listen, and even the silences become loaded. From a small number of perfectly ordinary words a tapestry takes shape, suggestive of a dream, but close enough to a reality which, more often than not, remains elusive.

It is a feat of mutual trust, of mutual imagining.

The Storyteller of Marrakesh

It will lie in the pieces of the past that swim into the present. Hassan sits us down, pours us some mint tea to accompany his narration — they have their traditions of hospitality; there are ways in which things must be done — and then he begins but as he tells his tale he is interrupted again and again and then again by people sitting on the ground before him: He steps aside and lets each one who has something to say have his say. I am not a storyteller. I am a writer, a very different beast entirely, and yet, just as he is about to begin his tale proper, the appropriate amount of time being used to preamble, Hassan says something I can relate to:.

I make this trip to Marrakesh every winter to escape the bitter cold of the highlands, the desert or the sea — depending on where I might be that year — but also because I am driven to come to terms with what happened that night, here on the Jemaa, when there was a scent of something amiss in the air, and this even before the two strangers made their first and, as it turned out, final appearance. The story is not merely an entertainment for his listeners. This story is for Hassan as much as it is for us. Through the telling of it he hopes to step a little closer to understanding what really happened that fateful night.

That is his plan and yet so many obstacles stand in his way. Only a few pages into the book he reveals:. I am driven by the need for truth… My brother is in prison for a crime he did not commit. I want to find out what put him there. The story Hassan tells is a story within a story and there are stories told within that too.

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He tells us of a time, perhaps the previous time, when he set down his kilm [a woven rug] on the other side of the square from his usual pitch because the memories associated with that place are too painful, and begins telling his tale. A foreign couple, a beautiful Franco-American woman and her Indian partner, vanish from the square one evening some time earlier.

Their bodies are never recovered and the reports of their disappearance are, to say the least, contradictory. As they hesitated on the threshold, casting long shadows, I hurried forward to greet them. At once I sensed something different about them. The girl was a gazelle, slender, small-boned, with large, dark eyes, and considerably shorter than her companion. She did all the speaking, accompanying her words with graceful gestures and appearing to anticipate perfectly his wishes.

The boy was darker, his skin the colour of shadows cast on sand. He reminded me of an Arab nobleman, tall, with thin limbs and black hair, with something in his erect carriage that suggested otherworldliness. Aziz has already gone some way with his imagination and, after seeing they have water, persuades another waiter to attend to the rest of their needs.

They chose an especially dark spot in the corner — they seemed to gravitate towards darkness. I brought them water, and when they looked at me, their eyes shone like candles. That was when it occurred to me, with a kind of guarded premonition, that Death had entered the Riad in the guise of that beautiful youth and maiden. All eyes, including mine, swivelled in their direction. The more modest amongst us immediately cast down our glances, as if abashed. Others, more bold, continued to stare and to follow them hungrily with brazen eyes.

It was unnatural, and it made us uneasy. It seemed to cast a glow as they made their way across the square, and, as if in homage, the crowds fell silent and parted before them. She was like a houri of legend, an angel, a peri. I drank in her luminous eyes, her black mane, her flowing limbs, her smile as fluid as a ripple of wind. Do we speak the truth, [asks Hassan], or do various, often incompatible versions of the truth speak through us?

Especially here, in the Jemaa, where what matters at any given moment is only that which is most significant? That which holds the attention. Now, and for the next several hours or years. Not only are there interruptions a few more that I would have liked but there are also digressions. These are not simply examples of Hassan getting on a bit and allowing his mind to wander; everything is interconnected.

See what I mean: Did the woman vanish that night or the man and did the other return year after year to wander the medina looking for them? Or did they both vanish into the night aided and abetted by a mysterious third party, to start a life anew away from prying eyes?

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Did the past finally catch up with them or were they merely the victims of local villains? If you like your stories explained for you in the final chapter whilst the characters loll around in a cosy drawing room then think again. That was never going to happen here.

The thing is though, at its core this novel is about love, in particular about one of the most powerful manifestations of love, self-sacrifice. There are numerous loves described in this book: First, always remember that either a story carries love and mystery, or it carries nothing. Second, outside of the broad themes determined by the story sticks, the trick is to make up everything out of a whole cloth.

Third, a story must not have a clean resolution. That way you will keep your audience coming back for more. Finally — and this is the most important thing — our craft demands discipline and hard work: It has five senses, seven sounds, nine skins, eleven illusions. It is a flower that grows in the deepest oceans. It is a flickering candle, a sign in the snow, a beautiful country, desert ash.

It is a call and a curse and a long-drawn-out incantation to be chanted in the evening. It is a photograph, a lament, a chronicle, a painting. It is elation, confusion, loneliness, loss, dream. Is there a moment within the text when we manage to grasp the truth? I certainly know what I think happened that night; it is a truth that satisfies me and can we ask more from any truth?

Only in a place like Marrakesh could you get away with language so rich. I have seldom been to a part of the world where the arts are so much in the forefront of daily existence—and it opened the doorway to my conceiving of a cycle of novels that could articulate that passion. Although set in a Muslim world, unlike The Good Muslim , which I read a few months back, this is not a religious tract by any manner of means; the author is not a Muslim.

When was the last time you were read a story? This book has that feel about it.