Leila's Dowry - The Inspiration Behind The Story
Many people have said how much my story Leila's Dowry seems like a historic tale. It is very different to the other stories in the book. I don't always reveal the inspiration for my stories, but on this occasion I will.
For many years my wife and I have spent time in Morocco. We go there at least once a year and our three children grew-up knowing it well. When I first started going there I was fascinated by the fact that you still found storytellers in marketplaces with a crowd surrounding them, transfixed by the telling of some tale or other. The storytellers were usually leather-skinned old men. I did not speak much Moroccan arabic back then, (although often what I was listening to was in fact Berber) but I could usually ascertain the content from gestures and expressions. The tales seemed to predominantly be about love, mystery, and hardship leading to good fortune. There was usually humour too - some bawdy. Old women clutched there sides as they roared with laughter. I used to sit for half an hour at a time trying to decipher what was being said. Leila's Dowry is not one of those stories, but I'm sure it draws upon the style and subject matter. Unfortunately, these days in Morocco you don't often see storytellers.
When my children were young and we went for holidays in Morocco, we often found ourselves on long, hard car journeys. The roads were little more than dusty cart tracks and it took hours to travel twenty or thirty miles to a market in searing heat. The children got bored, despite the stunning countryside and scenes of village life that fascinated my wife and I.
"Could you tell us one of your stories, Dad?" was a common cry from the back seat.
This usually meant they expected me to make something up on the spot, or at least continue a story I'd made up for them on a previous day. One day, driving back to our house by the coast, we got stuck behind a line of overloaded carts on a winding road. There was little chance of overtaking them. The children moaned. It was hot and bumpy and they were hungry, so I began to tell a story.
The story was about a donkey named Hobs. Hobs actually means 'bread' in arabic. I told a story about this poor bony donkey carrying bread to market for his master, the village baker. The donkey longed for a mate and finally he met a beautiful female donkey on the way to market. Later the master discovered that the donkey's owner was a princess. As a result he, a poor baker, married the princess and lived happily ever after.
Clearly the original was a story designed for small children. They really loved that tale and for years afterwards used to pressure me to tell them more stories about Hobs. Over time and as they grew older the tales became more sophisticated and refined. My three children have all but left home now but they still remember those stories. After I formally took on the discipline of being a writer, I found myself seeking inspiration for a story one afternoon and I remembered the stories of Hobs. Since I had never written those stories down, I decided I should do so. Maybe one day I'd have grandchildren and would wish I could remember them, I thought. Very quickly I found myself writing something aimed more at my normal adult readership. The result of that exercise is Leila's Dowry. I still need to get around to writing down the original children's stories. Never enough hours in a day.
If you would like to read Leila's Dowry or any of the author's other stories, follow the links below or enter the title into any internet search engine. Remember you can view an e-book on any computer, tablet or phone, for example by downloading the FREE Kindle Reader App from Amazon or by downloading in RTF format etc from Smashwords.
Buy on amazon
Find 'Leila's Dowry' for all formats on Smashwords
Many people have said how much my story Leila's Dowry seems like a historic tale. It is very different to the other stories in the book. I don't always reveal the inspiration for my stories, but on this occasion I will.
Storytelling was once a daily part of Moroccan life, but times are changing
For many years my wife and I have spent time in Morocco. We go there at least once a year and our three children grew-up knowing it well. When I first started going there I was fascinated by the fact that you still found storytellers in marketplaces with a crowd surrounding them, transfixed by the telling of some tale or other. The storytellers were usually leather-skinned old men. I did not speak much Moroccan arabic back then, (although often what I was listening to was in fact Berber) but I could usually ascertain the content from gestures and expressions. The tales seemed to predominantly be about love, mystery, and hardship leading to good fortune. There was usually humour too - some bawdy. Old women clutched there sides as they roared with laughter. I used to sit for half an hour at a time trying to decipher what was being said. Leila's Dowry is not one of those stories, but I'm sure it draws upon the style and subject matter. Unfortunately, these days in Morocco you don't often see storytellers.
Storyteller in the Djemma el Fna (square of the dead) in Marrakech
When my children were young and we went for holidays in Morocco, we often found ourselves on long, hard car journeys. The roads were little more than dusty cart tracks and it took hours to travel twenty or thirty miles to a market in searing heat. The children got bored, despite the stunning countryside and scenes of village life that fascinated my wife and I.
"Could you tell us one of your stories, Dad?" was a common cry from the back seat.
This usually meant they expected me to make something up on the spot, or at least continue a story I'd made up for them on a previous day. One day, driving back to our house by the coast, we got stuck behind a line of overloaded carts on a winding road. There was little chance of overtaking them. The children moaned. It was hot and bumpy and they were hungry, so I began to tell a story.
The Djemma El Fna in Marrakech has had storytellers for over a thousand years
Image courtesy of www.riadzany.blogspot.com
The story was about a donkey named Hobs. Hobs actually means 'bread' in arabic. I told a story about this poor bony donkey carrying bread to market for his master, the village baker. The donkey longed for a mate and finally he met a beautiful female donkey on the way to market. Later the master discovered that the donkey's owner was a princess. As a result he, a poor baker, married the princess and lived happily ever after.
Clearly the original was a story designed for small children. They really loved that tale and for years afterwards used to pressure me to tell them more stories about Hobs. Over time and as they grew older the tales became more sophisticated and refined. My three children have all but left home now but they still remember those stories. After I formally took on the discipline of being a writer, I found myself seeking inspiration for a story one afternoon and I remembered the stories of Hobs. Since I had never written those stories down, I decided I should do so. Maybe one day I'd have grandchildren and would wish I could remember them, I thought. Very quickly I found myself writing something aimed more at my normal adult readership. The result of that exercise is Leila's Dowry. I still need to get around to writing down the original children's stories. Never enough hours in a day.
If you would like to read Leila's Dowry or any of the author's other stories, follow the links below or enter the title into any internet search engine. Remember you can view an e-book on any computer, tablet or phone, for example by downloading the FREE Kindle Reader App from Amazon or by downloading in RTF format etc from Smashwords.
Buy on amazon
Find 'Leila's Dowry' for all formats on Smashwords
If you would like to read the bestselling travel book 'Long Road, Hard Lessons' by Mark Swain, you can find this and his two collections of short stories on Amazon, Smashwords etc.
