Who among us has not heard of Miss Joumana Baydoun, who came first among all the students of Lebanon and represented her country at the study-forum conference held annually by the "New York Herald Tribune"... It seems that Miss Baydoun grew used to such questions in the United States, where she demonstrated to the children of Uncle Sam that she does not eat grass, does not live in camel's-hair tents, and does not cover her face with a curtain of "nylon"... She began to dictate her views to me, and I caught in them the scent of the West... In her imagination he is wise, sensible, of strong personality, agreeable in company, and widely read; he does not melt away in the current of emotion, nor does he let himself be bound by trifles...
In the alumni club of the American University — the meeting place of the upper class of Beirut families, and particularly of Ras Beirut families — Miss Layla Kourani sat on one of the soft, comfortable seats, leafing through a magazine with great attention, in hopes of finding in its pages a beautiful style suited to a dress for the coming season. The question of The Woman's Voice was in the nature of a sudden problem that clouded the serenity of her thinking; but she bowed to the inescapable fact, and began to depict, in a language rather like a cocktail of Arabic and English words, the ideal man in her eyes... He is cultivated, of strong personality.. of good character, ambitious within reasonable limits, well-mannered, upright in all his dealings, his conduct, and his opinions. And Miss Layla, it appears, is a realist... She mocks Nietzsche and his "superman" theory, and holds that a man, whatever degree of greatness and ideality he attains, is not free of weak points, various and ramified, which prove that he is a human being and not a demigod; and man, by his nature, though he aim at perfection and aspire to it, can never reach it or pass beyond his limit.
The woman's voice does not rise only from sumptuous salons and refined circles; the
great mass of our women are of the common people, living in a milieu far from our milieu and an atmosphere foreign to our atmosphere — and I do not know which of us is the happier??..
I greeted her with a smile as she stood erect at the door of her little shop, watching the passersby — and in the streets there are sights upon sights... Mariam proceeded to assure me that she does not meddle in politics and does not care who will win the battle; what matters to her is to sell what she has of squash and potatoes... In vain I tried to explain to her the true nature of my errand... but then I remembered that woman's obstinacy is a blind folly... sometimes, of course.
The show windows of the ABC stores drew me in, and I entered that wondrous emporium; and there Rose, one of the charming salesgirls, began to describe to me her ideal man — the most amazing Don Juan I ever heard of. He has the beauty of Tyrone Power, the wit of Gene Kelly, the height of
Stewart Granger, and the elegance of Clark Gable.. I was dazzled by this Hollywood cocktail, as if I were not yet accustomed to the marvels of the twentieth century...
In the market of flowers and roses, one of the gentle flower-sellers began to enumerate for me the qualities she prefers in a man; it seems she drew some of them from the shapes and colors of the flowers that hemmed her in on every side — purity, beauty, and vitality — and she did not forget to remark to me that man's roughness is like the thorns of roses...
The journey's end was a veiled woman standing, with visible reserve and modesty, on one of the sidewalks. She answered me in utter astonishment: Mercy on me!... What are you asking me... what molds are you manufacturing for men? Spare me their mention, I beg you... But I have one word for you... my vote is for Rashid Bey, God bless you...
Great indeed is their cunning....