From a warm piazza, the power of stories
From childhood I have always loved stories. They opened my eyes and heart to other worlds, even the boring ones that inhabited — and succeeded in the restricted realism of — Dick and Jane, those neatly groomed exemplars of propriety and exactitude.
I soon graduated to the more wacky worlds of Walt Disney’s comics and stories and the Hardy Boys and on to Sherlock Holmes (Watson: “they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!”), Mark Twain, Jack London and Edgar Allan Poe.
So much more interesting than textbooks. Meanwhile, my wife, Lynn, became a professional storyteller, and I am recommending in the highest terms a book that I believe will not only capture fans of the subject, but also expand its reach and captivate a legion of new readers:
“The Last Storytellers: Tales from the Heart of Morocco” by Richard Hamilton, a BBC World Service reporter, with a foreword by Barnaby Rogerson (I.B. Tauris, 242 pp., $18, paperback).
Barnaby Rogerson: “To this day, no one really knows how the city of Marrakech won its name of ‘Marrakech,’ nor why the scruffy piazza at the heart of the city is called the ‘Jemaa el Fna.’”
As the day warms up, so do the storytellers at the piazza.
The folklore in this book is full of a range of themes and passions, including the charm of “The Three Figs,” told to Hamilton by one of the Moroccan storytellers he met in Marrakech. In it a young lad is charged with taking a gift of three enormous figs to the sultan. On the journey the child eats not one but two of the figs. He figures one fig would be enough for the sultan.
When he confesses to the sultan what he’s done, the sultan exclaims, How did you manage to eat such enormous figs? The boy replies, Ah, that’s simple. I did it like this. And he swallows the last fruit in one mouthful. Remarkably, the sultan realizes the boy was not malicious, and rewards him for the kindness behind the gift.
Rogerson: “Now a more enlightened generation of city planners are falling over themselves to create some of the magic of the Jemaa el Fna in cities all over the world.”
But.
Rogerson, again: “Yet in the square itself, like some awful twist of fate, the craft of storytelling is dying out, as the last masters grow feeble, and their audience moves off to other circles, other entertainments. As I was once told in Marrakech, when an old storyteller dies, a whole library burns.”
What a trip.
(Or not.) Which is why we are grateful for books — and the good stewards who write them.
A literature professor in Rabat, Abdessalam el Hakouni, considers the power of the tale of Scheherazade, who by telling stories for 1,001 nights staved off the anger of her violent husband the sultan. The professor calls her tale, as Richard Hamilton relates, “a parable about the power of storytelling”:
“The moral is that one should not yield to tyranny. You should use your imagination, be calm and think of love rather than hate, hope rather than despair. If Scheherazade could save her neck for one thousand and one nights, that would be long enough for the king to forget his vengeance. But the key was not a physical weapon. Scheherazade had nothing; only good stories to tell and the ability to tell them well. The lesson is that, if you want to survive, you better have a good story to tell.”
If you listen for them, there may be birds singing in the morning.
Dear Answer Angel Ellen: What kind of body shape does a highwaisted jean look good on?
— Jill C.
Dear Jill: I never understood why highwaisted jeans went out of style, and I’m so glad they’re back. That’s because they work for every body type. High waisted, however is a bit of a misnomer. We’re talking about jeans that hit at your natural waistline or just above. Here’s what’s crucial: They’re not those low-rise ones that look good on virtually no one — creating a muffin top, blub spillover on every body type except the leanest among us. Who needs that?
High waists work on curvy women, those with no curves, hourglass figures and anything in between. They’re especially flattering on appleshaped bodies that carry their weight in the stomach because they define (or create) a waistline. They flatten the stomach and actually can be slimming by seeming to elongate the body, making your legs look longer.
They should be worn with a tucked-in top ever so slightly bloused. (Tuck your shirt in tightly, then lift your arms over your head to achieve the right amount of blousy-ness.) They look great with a blazer and a simple T-shirt, too.
Dear Answer Angel Ellen:
What can a 50-something mom come up with that her 20-something daughter would want to borrow because it’s so cool?
— Melissa L.
Dear Melissa: That’s a switch. The moms I know work hard to keep their daughters from raiding their closets. If you and your daughter wear the same size shoes, you already know the answer. She’s just doubled her shoe wardrobe.
A status purse that she likely couldn’t afford is another item she’ll want you to share with her. If you own expensive (designer) sunglasses, trust me, she’d be thrilled to wear them (and perhaps scratch them, so be sure to make her take the case, too).
Angelic Readers
From Alice S.: “Maybe this will help someone else. I was having a hard time with the small tab on a spring ring clasp on a necklace. Then I got the idea to take two paper clips, which are easier to handle. I looped one through the jump ring and one through the clasp part of the clasp, and then linked the two paper clips together. I swung the newly fastened clasp around to the back of my neck. My long hair covers my clasp correction. If I were wearing something with a collar, the clasp could go under the collar.”
Reader Rant
Janice M. writes: “I absolutely agree with you regarding your leggings answer that they leave nothing at all to the imagination. I am shocked at the way especially young girls go out in public with leggings on and short tops. Everything is on display. If they wore longer tops, fine, and the same for men. Plain color leggings PLEASE — not those wild prints that do absolutely nothing for the female figure, especially those that are a bit overly endowed, like myself.
Now it’s your turn
Send your questions, rants, tips, favorite finds — on style, shopping, makeup, fashion and beauty — to answer angel ellen@gmail.com.