Kulħadd barra Fajża

Author: John P. Portelli. Publisher: Horizons, 2018

Portelli’s novel is set in Canada, his country of residence, but the major characters are Maltese-Canadians. The story starts with a number of news reports stating that a woman called Fajza has been shot and her body dumped near a hospital. Every news station gives further snippets of information on the incident. The introductory chapter is fascinating and manages to intrigue the reader enough to satisfy his or her curiosity and desire to learn what has happened. The book is not a heavy read; I would describe it as a page-turner, entertaining, captivating, and similar in style to Mario Puzo’s The God

father. Each character’s psychological traits, emotions and thoughts are described and analysed in detail and their ra- tionale is usually the result of deep philosophical thought.

The main character Fajza, with the female name in Arabic meaning “successful, victorious, beneficial,” is not given a direct voice. Portelli skirts the possibility of animating Faiza by portraying her character in retrospective or anteceding scenes to achieve distancing and a sense of objectification. Fajza is spoken about, but never speaking, and we get to know her mainly through other characters’ perceptions of her – the title of the novel, Kulhadd barra Fajza is telling in this regard. Everyone except for Fajza, as all the people who have known her in life get a word in the plot except for Fajza herself. Some of the characters love her, others envy her, others hate her and want to ruin her, others want to control her. Each character perceives himself or herself to be responsible for the incident that occurs to Faiza.

The novel is what in Italian is called a “giallo,” that is a crime story with enough mysteries and twists to keep readers flicking from one page and one chapter to another. Federico Orlando, a literary theorist, has stated that whenever we read a book and see a character, we can see an element of “Sono io” thus one selfidentifies with a character but also moments of “Non sono io,” with qualities which are surely not acknowledged since one would not tackle problems in ways they are being presented in the narrative. This being said, sometimes we really have to be careful because the more emphatic we are about being different from a particular character, as Freud clearly states, the more similar we are to that character. One of the characters for example, is called Safja, meaning “pure.” Safja is Fajza’s sister and her name seems to contradict her actions. Without divulging much about the plot, when Safja was young she really loved her sister and would take care of her with love and dedication. Growing up however, they somehow fell in love with the same man, who preferred Fajza, and Safja becomes destructive and requires psychiatric therapy because of her envious nature. Thus we can all somehow see ourselves in this realistic character. There is an element of “sono io,” thus there are instances when we can all see ourselves as loving and caring. But there are instances when we want something to the extent that we are ready to do anything to obtain it.

From a linguistic point of view, I can state that some of the descriptions in Maltese depicted in the novel are simply amazing: « Iltqajna go kafetterija kwieta fuq Lakeshore Boulevard f’Mississauga minn fejn stajna naraw u napprezzaw is-sbuhija tal-Lag Ontario. Kien jum mill-isbah. Issilg kien dab. Ix-xemx tar-reb- biegha donnha kienet waslet kmieni dik is-sena. Il-papri jghumu fuq wicc l-ilma qisu hgieg ihallu rigi zghar li jmewgu bilmod. Fuq in-naha tal-lemin fil-boghod stajna naraw ic-CN Tower. Anke l-visibilita` kienet cara. Donnu kollox kien qed jipponta ghal bidu gdid;” (“We met at a quiet café on Lakeshore Boulevard in Mississauga where we could appreciate the beauty of Lake Ontario. It was a beautiful day. The snow had melted. The spring sun must have made an earlier appearance that year. Ducks floated on the mirror surface of the lake, leaving small wakes in the water. In the distance, to our right, the CN tower was clearly visible. Everything seemed to be heralding a new beginning.”) Similarly the description use to describe Fajza’s frenentic nature: “Faiza twieldet qabel izzmien. Qatt ma kellha kwiet. Dejjem riedet thaffef. F’kollox.” (“Faiza was born prematurely. She was always active, always wanting to hurry things up.”)

The book is a melange of some very good thoughts and reflections on life in general and on its existential reality. Portelli often uses a contained and unelaborate syntax when writing, which style has proven to be very effective. The novel also makes reference to the reality of multiculturalism in Canada. But the multicultural policies in Canada are critiqued by Rona, Fajza’s mother, on the ground that these policies mask the racism in the country. Racism is described as a plague in Canada - I would not hesitate to add, in the whole world. The novel makes also reference to islamophobia. Diversity and inclusion are always a challenge in society and we struggle continuously to reconcile these essential realities. A quick reading of some comments on social media are enough to make one realise that the Maltese are constantly afraid of the other, of the person who is different. Portelli deals regularly with these issues as a leading professor of Social Justice Education at OISE in Toronto. The novel deals with a very real and very pertinent issue to the present Maltese society

Some of the characters exemplify the struggles of the daily life of Maltese-immigrants in Canada, full of nostalgia for the homeland. Having lived myself in Australia, I clearly remember this characteristic in the many Maltese who had left Malta in the 1960s; somehow they all longed to be back here in their old age but could not because of their family.

Kulħadd barra Fajża is a very strong and intriguing debut novel by Portelli. And yes, we definitely need a sequel!