Arabian Nights: Enriching the world

Arabic folk tales hark back to a golden age, with their origins to have been Persian, Indian, and Iraqi from the 8th century as performances, later formally written in Syrian Arabic script of the 14th-15th and 16th centuries that, thanks to English publisher Andrew Lang, were largely immortalised in 1998, with his publication of ‘The Arabian Nights Entertainments.’ Tracing back to Sanskrit, Mesopotamian, Persian, and Arabic civilisations, they have ensured the names of Scheherazade, Aladdin, Sinbad, Ali Baba and his Forty Thieves will remain with us forever, a culture’s gift enriching all mankind.

Thank goodness for later aficionados who have since perpetuated the legends, the stories and tales, the myths and folklore, of the ‘Thousand and One Nights,’ that have proven so romantically evocative to children, both of yesterday and today. The remarkably exotic Oriental influences, the unrivalled mysterious beauty of the Arabian civilisations of old, the splendour of the Islamic world’s architecture, the pomp and circumstance excesses of the Persians, the religious diversities of Egypt, the wealthy influences of Mesopotamia, featured characters shaped by these convoluted beginnings, brought to life by our imaginations, and now perpetuated through books, stage, cinema, and now superbly enhanced digitally, so nothing is lost or left behind, while still leaving so much to the imagination.

The most handsome, articulate, intelligent and energetic male characters have had their characters drawn, and drawn out so magnificently, their personalities and humour taken to another level, whether animated or real, while never being really real. Does that make sense? Princesses, and concubines alike have ethereal, unmatched beauty, they charm us, delight us, and make us want to dance with them, tease, tempt and fall in love with them, and to protect them from evil. We would lay down our lives for such beauty.

Villains too take on a certain comedic fragility, a buffoonery that shows them for what they are, rather than what they appear to be, which is so refreshing. Djinns, wizards, spirits, and genies abound, good and bad, but with endless powers, while giants, goblins, trolls, and ogres live and hide under bridges to seize the unwary, in the same way that dwarfs, elves, and gnomes inhabit smaller spaces. It appears that the earliest tales were to entertain, unlike their European opposites which were very much of religion and faith, whether poetry, songs, or dances.

The interesting thing about these stories is of their development with the times, and their adaptation to the changing landscapes of social imperatives, as they were pinched, plucked and pulled, tweaked, to meet societal needs particularly in Europe where, for example: the first Cinderella was murderous, manipulative, and narcissistic, but when her characteristics were changed to more virtuous qualities of being victimised by her stepsisters, her saccharine sweetness, beauty and innocence paramount, to fit in with the reformation of French society, she became inescapable.

The rise of puritanism, and German identity, forced an alignment with family values which saw Hans Christian Andersen gain considerable popularity, as the wants and the needs of the populace changed. I guess it was the ‘snowflake’ movement of the time, in the same way that James Bond’s stereotypical racism and misogyny have given way to greater sensitivity in more recent times. This is a textbook form of subtlety that must be admired in some respects, because of how difficult it has proven, historically, to change anything! Respected Japanese author Haruki Murukami writes, “I go back to the reading room, sink down into my sofa, and into the world of the Arabian Nights. Slowly, like a cinematic fadeout, the real world evaporates and I am there, in the world of my story. It is my favourite feeling in the world.”

Another of the ‘literaturna,’ Denise Mina, alludes to the almost primal need of the Arabic world to tell its stories, saying that they are as much about the teller as the listener, which is interesting, as Omanis are absolutely riveting storytellers and poets.

Me, I will not change my old lamps for new ones, but have no hesitation in exchanging my new ones, for some really old ones. Especially those bought in an old, dimly lit, small town souq. I’ll give them a rub... and... (maybe) shazaam!