Far away is the luxury of running water, take-out Chinese, and pre-sliced mushrooms for Australian author, blogger, and part-time remodeler Suzanna Clarke when she embarks on her journey to buy and – with excruciating attention to detail – restore a riad in the medieval Medina of Fez, Morocco. Suzanna Clarke’s A House in Fez focuses on the historical importance of the preservation of ancient buildings in Fez, despite the temptation to modernize certain aspects of the house or to skimp on the restoration process to reduce time and expense. In a city that is developing rapidly due to tourism and technological innovation, maintenance of the ancient Medina is becoming more difficult than ever, especially when considering the cost of restoring a dar or riad to its original state. While Clarke addresses the mounting issues due to tourism and provides valuable insights into of Moroccan culture, she fails to show her perspective through anything but a westernized perspective or to provide a viable solution to the restoration-cum-modernization of the Fez Medina, all while constantly making comparisons between life in the ‘undeveloped’ city of Fez and her westernized life in Australia.
A House in Fez begins with Clarke’s journey to Fez to find a suitable home for her and her husband, Sandy. They eventually decide on a run-down riad in the oldest part of the Medina. After purchasing the home, the grueling restoration process begins, along which Suzanna encounters many trials and tribulations; learning to manage the (sometimes slippery) contractors, find proper building supplies (without being fleeced), and navigate convoluted Moroccan bureaucracy proves to be no simple undertaking. After seven months of nonstop work on the riad– almost to its completion – Clarke returns to the hustle and bustle of her life in Australia, heart heavy with longing to return to her newfound home in Fez.
In recent years, tourism in Morocco has become more common, bringing with it a whole new economy and also a host of problems. Clarke addresses some of the issues wrought by tourism. In the souks, many traditional handmade Moroccan goods are bought and sold, but the emerging market for tourists is leading to many changes. Clarke writes about the souk: “…I realized anew how much it was like being transported back to the Middle Ages, except that many of the goods produced are exported or sold to tourists” (68). Many goods are made to serve as mere trinkets for tourists rather than to serve their original historical purpose. Additionally, foreign nationals are buying houses in the Medina, but then modernizing them so they are converted into something quite unlike their original historical state (83). Clarke makes a valuable point, claiming that since many Moroccans cannot afford to sustain the houses they live in, those who can afford to do so (i.e. foreign nationals) should do so in keeping with the traditional style to preserve the Medina (10).
Throughout the book, Clarke provides insightful passages concerning varying aspects of Moroccan culture. From music festivals to circumcision rituals to a lively pre-Ramadan celebration, Clarke describes an assortment of traditional Moroccan customs. The Fez Festival of World Sacred Music includes performances of types of music from all around the world, culminating into a hodgepodge of Middle Eastern, Asian, Latin American, and Mediterranean culture (145). Clarke highlights the performance of a Sufi group, explaining the history behind their musical performances and describing the feeling of exaltation she, too, experienced when caught in the cacophony of frantic drum-beats and bellowing trumpets (146-147). Clarke also details a boy’s circumcision ritual, an important part of Islamic tradition, since the act of circumcision is supposed to make the boy full of baraka, or blessing.
While Clark may have indicated an understanding of Moroccan traditions in A House in Fez, she fails to fully shed her overtly westernized attitude. When detailing her visit to the electricity company, she questions their resistance to her request for four electrical lines to her house. She acknowledges that many Moroccans only use two lines as they use few appliances, but continues on to question the electricity company’s motivation behind denying her request, claiming, “…if I was paying for it what difference did it make to the electricity company?” (174). Clarke’s privileged lifestyle is painfully evident, especially when she compares hers to the lifestyle of most Moroccans living in the Medina. She also insists on forcing the workers in her home to wear protective face masks due to the health problems that can arise from breathing in dust fragments on the job site (134). The manner in which she addresses the issue is condescending. While she may be in the right for wanting the workers to wear masks, she suggests that the western way is the “right” way and that the workers don’t know any better. This comparison between the “western” way of doing things and the Moroccan way of doing this is a recurring theme throughout the book, detracting from the overarching thesis of A House in Fez– in many instances, Clarke subtly implies (ironically) that the former is superior to the latter.
Though Clarke makes valid points early on about how to preserve the Medina, she doesn’t delve deeper into these points throughout the book. Beyond a superficial paragraph about foreign nationals putting their wealth to good use by restoring and maintaining houses in the Medina, she fails to propose any other solutions to the point in question. I would have liked to learn more about conservation efforts being made either by the city or by individuals (such as Suzanna) themselves. Instead, the end of the book settled within me a sense of dissatisfaction. Clarke could have elaborated on current or future plans, but instead seemed to become complacent.
A House in Fez is an informative book about the restoration process of a riad and contains an overall satisfactory description of daily life in the Medina of Fez. However, Clarke’s ‘white savior’ complex makes it difficult to consider her book an objective read, or even a gratifying one. The lack of follow-through on her points concerning conservation of the Medina is dissatisfying, especially considering this is the main idea of the book. She doesn’t wrap up her book with commentary on the fate of the Medina or another point relevant to her thesis but rather finishes with an anecdote about a celebration of the restoration’s completion. While her presentation is engaging, Clarke’s narrative fails to strike a chord within me. A House in Fez is a sufficient read for someone looking to travel to Morocco, as it illustrates an alluring picture of life in the Medina; however, the book lacks depth for those looking to gain a deeper understanding of the problems surrounding the preservation of medieval Fez.
Clarke, Suzanna. A House in Fez: Building a Life in the Ancient Heart of Morocco. Pocket Books, 2008.
Not all people are interested in changing their lifestyles. Some are comfortable with their lifestyles and their beliefs. They don’t need people from the outside world moving in to turn their world upside down. Life long traditions and beliefs should be left to the inhabitants of a nation even if it is a country away.
Once again someone with the means to make a difference outside of their current state is somewhat forcing the western ideals on people that are less fortunate and live in the area of this great change being influenced. People need to stop and think about the changes that they are wanting to put in place. There are beliefs and lifestyles that should be honored in every lifestyle and nation. I think forcing our beliefs is part of the problem in this world today.
Excellent post! I haven’t read “A House in Fes,” but judging from your post I judge that the book is a very good read for anyone who may visit Fes. However, I hear an oft’ repeated but disturbing theme of foreigners’ attempt to rehabilitate something or someone, desirable or not, to somehow upgrade them to the twenty first century (to western standards). But sadly, as in many similar situations, there’s probably unintended consequences of these well-intentioned, but ill-conceived notions.
Consider, many Moroccans presently cannot afford to maintain their homes in the Medina; consequently, they are forced to sell them. To extrapolate, the more that foreigners come in, buy up properties and rehabilitate them, the less affordable the existing housing will be for citizens–therefore, more native Moroccans become displaced.
I was particularly drawn to and agree with your concern: “I would have liked to learn more about conservation efforts being made either by the city or by individuals.” And, I would add: I think a better outcome will be for the individuals, with help from the city/city planners/historical planners, be empowered to preserve and rehabilitate their own properties, with conservation limited to preserving the best of the traditional Medina while upgrading to more sound and functional structures and many of the most practical modern conveniences–all as the guiding principle(s) for any changes/upgrades. The hope is that the Medina will remain traditionally Moroccan, and without distasteful foreign influence.
I believe that many people from different parts of the world, that perceive themselves to be more fortunate in every way, may unwittingly attempt to modernize the space of others. We don’t realize this isn’t what people want. It’s one thing to help maintain an area or a home, but we must not forcibly change others’ way of life.
It’s wrong! Our ideas and customs are ours, not theirs.