The Bookseller of Kabul
By Asne SeierstadBack Bay Books
Copyright © 2004 Asne Seierstad
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780316159418
Chapter One
The ProposalWhen Sultan Khan thought the time had come to find himself a newwife, no one wanted to help him. First he approached his mother.
"You will have to make do with the one you have," she said.
Then he went to his eldest sister. "I'm fond of your first wife,"she said. His other sisters replied in the same vein.
"It's shaming for Sharifa," said his aunt.
Sultan needed help. A suitor cannot himself ask for a girl's hand.It is an Afghan custom that one of the women of the family conveythe proposal and give the girl the once-over to assure herself thatshe is capable, well brought up, and suitable wife material. Butnone of Sultan's close female relations wanted to have anything todo with this offer of marriage.
Sultan had picked out three young girls he thought might fit thebill. They were all healthy and good-looking, and of his own tribe.In Sultan's family it was rare to marry outside the clan; it wasconsidered prudent and safe to marry relatives, preferably cousins.
Sultan's first candidate was sixteen-year-old Sonya. Her eyes weredark and almond-shaped and her hair shining black. She was shapely,voluptuous, and it was said of her that she was a good worker. Herfamily was poor and they were reasonably closely related. Hermother's grandmother and Sultan's mother's grandmother were sisters.
While Sultan ruminated over how to ask for the hand of the chosenone without the help of family women, his first wife was blissfullyignorant that a mere chit of a girl, born the same year she andSultan were married, was Sultan's constant preoccupation. Sharifawas getting old. Like Sultan, she was a few years over fifty. Shehad borne him three sons and a daughter. The time had come for a manof Sultan's standing to find a new wife.
"Do it yourself," his brother said finally.
After some thought, Sultan realized that this was his only solution,and early one morning he made his way to the house of thesixteen-year-old. Her parents greeted him with open arms. Sultan wasconsidered a generous man and a visit from him was always welcome.Sonya's mother boiled water and made tea. They reclined on flatcushions in the mud cottage and exchanged pleasantries until Sultanthought the time had come to make his proposal.
"A friend of mine would like to marry Sonya," he told the parents.
It was not the first time someone had asked for their daughter'shand. She was beautiful and diligent, but they thought she was stilla bit young. Sonya's father was no longer able to work. During abrawl a knife had severed some of the nerves in his back. Hisbeautiful daughter could be used as a bargaining chip in themarriage stakes, and he and his wife were always expecting the nextbid to be even higher.
"He is rich," said Sultan. "He's in the same business as I am. He iswell educated and has three sons. But his wife is starting to growold."
"What's the state of his teeth?" the parents asked immediately,alluding to the friend's age.
"About like mine," said Sultan. "You be the judge."
Old, the parents thought. But that was not necessarily adisadvantage. The older the man, the higher the price for theirdaughter. A bride's price is calculated according to age, beauty,and skill and according to the status of the family.When Sultan Khan had delivered his message, the parents said, ascould be expected, "She is too young."
Anything else would be to sell short to this rich, unknown suitorwhom Sultan recommended so warmly. It would not do to appear tooeager. But they knew Sultan would return; Sonya was young andbeautiful.
He returned the next day and repeated the proposal. The sameconversation, the same answers. But this time he got to meet Sonya,whom he had not seen since she was a young girl.
She kissed his hand, in the custom of showing respect for an elderrelative, and he blessed the top of her head with a kiss. Sonya wasaware of the charged atmosphere and flinched under Uncle Sultan'ssearching look.
"I have found you a rich man, what do you think of that?" he asked.Sonya looked down at the floor. A young girl has no right to have anopinion about a suitor.
Sultan returned the third day, and this time he made known thesuitor's proposition: a ring, a necklace, earrings, and bracelet,all in red gold; as many clothes as she wanted; 600 pounds of rice,300 pounds of cooking oil, a cow, a few sheep, and 15 millionafghani, approximately $500.
Sonya's father was more than satisfied with the price and asked tomeet this mysterious man who was prepared to pay so much for hisdaughter. According to Sultan, he even belonged to their tribe, inspite of their not being able to place him or remember that they hadever met him.
"Tomorrow," said Sultan, "I will show you a picture of him."
The next day, fortified by a sweetener, Sultan's aunt agreed toreveal to Sonya's parents the identity of the suitor. She took aphotograph with her-a picture of Sultan Khan himself-and with it theuncompromising message that they had no more than an hour to make uptheir minds. If the answer was yes, he would be very grateful, andif it was no, there would be no bad blood between them. What hewanted to avoid at all costs was everlasting bargaining about maybe,maybe not.
The parents agreed within the hour. They were keen on Sultan Khan,his money, and his position. Sonya sat in the attic and waited. Whenthe mystery surrounding the suitor had been solved and the parentshad decided to accept, her father's brother came up to the attic."Uncle Sultan is your wooer," he said. "Do you consent?"
Not a sound escaped Sonya's lips. With tearful eyes and bowed head,she hid behind her long shawl.
"Your parents have accepted the suitor," her uncle said. "Now isyour only chance to express an opinion."
She was petrified, paralyzed by fear. She did not want the man butshe knew she had to obey her parents. As Sultan's wife, her standingin Afghan society would go up considerably. The bride money wouldsolve many of her family's problems. The money would help herparents buy good wives for their sons.
Sonya held her tongue, and with that her fate was sealed. To saynothing means to give one's consent. The agreement was drawn up, thedate fixed.
Sultan went home to inform his family of the news. His wife,Sharifa, his mother, and his sisters were seated around a dish ofrice and spinach. Sharifa thought he was joking and laughed andcracked some jokes in return. His mother too laughed at Sultan'sjoke. She could not believe that he had entered into a proposal ofmarriage without her blessing. The sisters were dumbfounded.
No one believed him, not until he showed them the kerchief andsweetmeats the parents of a bride give the suitor as proof of theengagement.
Sharifa cried for twenty days. "What have I done? What a disgrace.Why are you dissatisfied with me?"
Sultan told her to pull herself together. No one in the familybacked him up, not even his own sons. Nevertheless, no one daredspeak out against him-he always got his own way.
Sharifa was inconsolable. What really rankled was the fact that theman had picked an illiterate, someone who had not even completednursery school. She, Sharifa, was a qualified Persian languageteacher. "What has she got that I haven't got?" she sobbed.
Sultan rose above his wife's tears.
No one wanted to attend the engagement party. But Sharifa had tobite the bullet and dress up for the celebrations.
"I want everyone to see that you agree and support me. In the futurewe will all be living under the same roof and you must show thatSonya is welcome," he demanded. Sharifa had always humored herhusband, and now too, in this worst circumstance, giving him tosomeone else, she knuckled under. He even demanded that Sharifashould put the rings on his and Sonya's fingers.
Twenty days after the proposal of marriage the solemn engagementritual took place. Sharifa pulled herself together and put on abrave face. Her female relatives did their best to unsettle her."How awful for you," they said. "How badly he has treated you. Youmust be suffering."
The wedding took place two months after the engagement, on the dayof the Muslim New Year's Eve. This time Sharifa refused to attend.
"I can't," she told her husband.
The female family members backed her up. No one bought new dressesor applied the normal amount of makeup required at weddingceremonies. They wore simple coiffures and stiff smiles-in deferenceto the superannuated wife who would no longer share Sultan Khan'sbed. It was now reserved for the young, terrified bride-but theywould all be under the same roof, until death did them part.
Continues...
Excerpted from The Bookseller of Kabulby Asne Seierstad Copyright © 2004 by Asne Seierstad. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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