Alexander Frumkin
01 July 2018
DAW 2018
“When we mentioned our fantasy of buying a traditional Arab-style riad, or courtyard house, in Fez to a friend, he said dismissively, ‘What a terribly nineteenth-century thing to do’.” (Clarke 7) I thought the author would refer to colonialism – the Scramble for Africa started in the late 1800s, after all – but Clarke instead introduces an interesting anecdote about early European women travelers. Clarke often addresses the comparison of her actions to 21st-century colonialism, but for someone as conscious about her actions, there are several elements in her story that are off-putting considering how genuine the author’s efforts and rhetoric appear. This book should not garner recognition from academic circles, but it clearly was not written for the sake of academia. It’s the story of one couple trying to admire a culture in a uniquely human manner.
A House in Fez, by Suzanna Clarke, is a memoir encompassing the extensive completion of her Moroccan home (Riad Zany). Clarke and her husband, an Australian couple, decide to move to Fes after only visiting twice, despite the fact that they share almost nothing in common with the people or culture of the city and don’t even speak Darija (Moroccan Arabic). What follows is a years-long journey in order to restore a home in the Fes Medina to both preserve a historic building and adapt it for a modern lifestyle; the book largely details this construction process, but it also almost seamlessly weaves some of the history and culture of Fes into the narrative by fitting well-written stories into the book’s chronology and reflecting on these addressed realities. A House in Fez, despite its inability to inform readers on aspects of Moroccan culture without evoking thoughts of orientalism, white guilt, and the white savior complex, is a book worth reading for those interested in visiting Morocco because of both its fun, easily accessible nature and its consideration of distinctions between the culture tourists most likely experience at home and the one they will experience in Fez.
As Clarke goes about her journey in Morocco, she expresses a strong passion for the culture in Moroccan culture, but no rationale is ever provided for this. In combination with the fact that Clarke does not appear to adjust her lifestyle culturally to the way of life in Fes-el-Bali and does not even attempt to learn Darija, it is very difficult to not make connections to Edward Said’s analysis of orientalism. While the author never suggests any belief that culture in Morocco is inferior to that of the Western world, she does state at one point that, “The romance of having no hot water … had soured. … I had to admit I was a spoiled Westerner who found it hard to go backward in my living standard.” (Clarke 155-156) This is not the same as Said’s theorized patronization of Middle Eastern culture, but the truth remains that it is reminiscent of the fetishization of the Middle East – and incredibly close to saying that life in Morocco is worse than life in the “developed” world. If that’s the case, then why is Clarke so driven to live there?
In turn, that is where the concerns of white guilt and the white savior complex arise. Consistently throughout the memoir, Clarke compares the monetary situations of herself and those around her. Despite calling herself a wage slave (Clarke 5), she also makes it very clear that giving up on work to move to a brand-new country and self-finance the construction of a new home is – for the most part – a financially accessible option. She then consistently laments about how wealthy she and her husband are in comparison to their neighbors; as a result of this white guilt (at least wealth-based if not race-based), she frequently expresses a desire to pay her contracted employees well, almost as if she is trying to absolve herself of said guilt. Clarke never verbally recognizes this, but she does several times address “rescuing” the Medina, its people, and its culture. By acknowledging the idea of the white savior complex without ever genuinely considering the similarities between it and her actions in Morocco, Clarke appears hypocritical, and it is the book’s deepest flaw. However, as flawed as it may be, it is mostly the result of the lens of Western ethnocentrism that she has spent her life looking through; Clarke clearly does want to help restore the Medina, and by no means does she ever express that only white people are capable of doing this. But by failing to address the efforts of Fassis attempting to do the same things, it unintentionally lessens her memoir.
Despite all of this, A House in Fez is still worth reading.
As much as I dislike certain aspects of Clarke’s narrative, I was drawn to her writing style. She successfully captivated me into reading a 270-page story that at the end of the day is really just a novelized version of HGTV. By incorporating methodically including Moroccan history, the culture of Fes, and stories of all the people she meets along the way, Clarke created a novel that is enjoyable, informative, and accessible. She uses interesting analogies and descriptive language to paint an intriguing picture of Fes, the spiritual capital of Morocco. Clarke’s most redeeming quality was her refreshingly genuine voice that could be felt during the entire novel. She may express the distinctions between culture in the West and culture in the Medina in a somewhat problematic manner, it is a result of her upbringing and clearly communicates her purpose to her audience. This book is not for historians or academics that study culture, but it is for people who want a glimpse at life in Fez from someone who sees the world in a way that resonates with them. So while I disagree with the lack of self-consciousness from someone as apparently conscious as Clarke and believe more could be done to make this a better, more culturally nuanced memoir, I can relate to the author’s perspective and I would argue that the book marginally improved my perspective on life in Fes. It is a book that should only be a minor piece of any tourist’s inquiry into the culture of the city; it should not be the first source someone reads before planning a visit, but it serves as a nice complement to those who already have a fair understanding of the history and culture of Morocco and want to read a unique Western perspective that connects on a human level.
Clarke, Suzanna. A House in Fez: Building a Life in the Ancient Heart of Morocco. Pocket Books, 2008.
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