topics: |  fiction | bulgaria | german | nobel-1981

Growing up in a German-speaking Jewish household in Ruschuk, Bulgaria,
Canetti emerged with a wonderful eye, one that fills in details and abstracts
away to an all-encompassing vision.  He was obviously a wonderfully
interesting man; Iris Murdoch, his lover for some years,  wrote of him:

    It is midnight. [Canetti] was here for five hours. He fills me with
    wonder and delight and fear. I told him: you are a great city of which
    I am learning now the main thoroughfares, which roads lead to the
    river. Later I shall explore each quarter carefully. He said: will you
    ask for any changes? Do you approve of the cathedral? And what will you
    do with this city? Live in it.

However, he had a remarkably poisoned pen (see, e.g. this view by
John Banville).  Here
he is, inveigling against T.S. Eliot:

    a miserable creature... a libertine of the void, a foothill of Hegel, a
    desecrator of Dante (to which Circle would Dante have banished him?);
    thin lipped, cold hearted, prematurely old, unworthy of Blake or of
    Goethe or of anything volcanic--his own lava cooled before it ever
    warmed--neither cat nor bird nor beetle, much less mole, godly,
    dispatched to England...armed with critical points instead of teeth,
    tormented by a nymphomaniac of a wife....

But in this little excerpt, he is far more gentle, in his ruminations on
the bazars and patient ways of Morocco...

Excerpt: Bargaining in the Souks

The passer-by finds each object obligingly held out to him.  He may hold
it in his hand for a long time, discuss it thoroughly, ask questions,
express doubts, and, if he likes, tell his life story or the history of
his tribe or the history of the whole world without making a purchase.
The man among his wares has one quality above all else: he is composed.
There he sits.  He has little room or opportunity for expansive
gestures.  He belongs to his wares as much as they belong to him.  They
are not packed away somewhere; he always has his hands or eyes on them.
There is an intimacy, an alluring intimacy between him and his things.
He watches over them and keeps them in order as if they were his
enormous family.

It neither bothers nor embarrasses him that he knows their precise value,
because he keeps it a secret and you will never discover it.
This lends a touch of heady mystery to the bargaining process.  Only he
can tell how close you come to his secret, and he is an expert at
vigorously parrying every thrust so that the protective distance to that
value is never threatened.  It is considered honourable in the
purchaser not to let himself be cheated, but this is no easy undertaking
for him because he is always groping in the dark.  In countries where
the price ethic prevails, where fixed prices are the rule, there is
nothing to going shopping.  Any fool can go out and find what he needs.
Any fool who can read figures can contrive not to get swindled.

In the souks, however, the price that is named first is an unfathomable
riddle.  No one knows in advance what it will be, not even the merchant,
because in any case there are many prices.  Each one relates to a
different situation, a different customer, a different time of day, a
different day of the week.  There are prices for single objects and
prices for two or more together.  There are prices for foreigners
visiting the city for a day and prices for foreigners who have been here
for three weeks.  There are prices for the poor and prices for the
rich, those for the poor of course being the highest. . .

Yet that is only the beginning of a complicated affair regarding the
outcome of which nothing is known in advance.  It is said that you
should get down to about a third of the original price, but this is
nothing but .. one of those vapid generalizations . . .

It is desirable that the toing and froing of negotiations should last a
miniature, incident-packed eternity.  The merchant is delighted at the
time you take over your purchase.  Arguments aimed at making the other
give ground should be far-fetched, involved, emphatic, and stimulating.
You can be dignified or eloquent, but you will do best to be both.
Dignity is employed by both parties to show that they do not attach too
much importance to either sale or purchase.  Eloquence serves to soften
the opponent's resolution.  Some arguments merely arouse scorn; others
cut to the quick.  You must try everything before you surrender.  But
even when the time has come to surrender, it must happen suddenly and
unexpectedly so that your opponent is thrown into confusion and for a
moment lets you see into his heart. . .

In the booths that are large enough for walking around in the vendor very
often takes a second opinion before yielding.  The man he consults, a
kind of spiritual head as regards prices, stands in the background and
takes no part in the proceedings; he is there, but he does not bargain
himself.  He is simply turned to for final decisions.  He is able, as it
were against the vendor's will, to sanction fantastic deviations in the
price.  But because it is done by "him", who has not been involved in
the bargaining, no one has lost face.

other reviews

Winner of the 1981 Nobel Prize for Literature, Elias Canetti uncovers the
secret life hidden beneath Marrakesh's bewildering array of voices, gestures
and faces. In a series of sharply etched scenes, he portrays the languages
and cultures of the people who fill its bazaars, cafes, and streets. The book
presents vivid images of daily life: the storytellers in the Djema el Fna,
the armies of beggars ready to set upon the unwary, and the rituals of
Moroccan family life. This is Marrakesh -described by one of Europe's major
literary intellects in an account lauded as "cosmopolitan in the tradition of
Goethe" by the New York Times. "A unique travel book," according to John
Bayley of the "London Review of Books."

"Voices" is divided into 14 short chapters - the first person account of a
visit to the Moroccan city of the title. Canetti tells of encounters with and
observations of camels, beggars, donkeys, merchants, and other inhabitants of
the city. The book is a fascinating record of cross-cultural contact, and
includes an intriguing view into the Mellah, the Jewish quarter of
Marrakesh.

The book is full of vividly rendered scenes; Canetti really brings these
people and animals to life on the page. The book also has a dark edge as he
recounts the exploitative underside of the city. Literacy and linguistic
difference are also key themes.