The Black Album

by Hanif Kureishi

  Tahira enters with the aubergine on a silver salver. She places it in the middle of the room and begins circumambulating, followed by streams of others.

  Tahira God has granted me the sight. Thanks to Shahid.

  Hat It’s true, Shahid! You can see the arrow!

  Chad Pointing straight at Islington.

  Shahid How do you know it’s Islington?

  Chad It where the writer live.

  Shahid My room’s going to be wrecked by all these people.

  Riaz enters, as the ‘pilgrims’ begin chanting.

  Riaz As-salaam a-leikum, Shahid. You see how far-reaching is the power of Allah.

  Shahid I didn’t realise Allah was vegetarian.

  Riaz clocks Shahid momentarily, then laughs.

  Riaz You have a good way with your words. (Taking Shahid aside.) Our people, most of them are from villages, half-literate and not wanted here. These miracles give them a voice in this land of so-called free expression. We who are educated, it is our duty to give this miracle a shape. I understand the Ayatollah is getting ready to make a big announcement.

  Shahid Do you know what the fatwa will say?

  Riaz It is a call to all Muslims to defend the faith against blasphemers.

  Shahid What does that mean?

  Riaz Surely it is obvious. The fatwa requires us to take whatever action is necessary. Just like the action we took against the racists. That writer insults us. To be against racism is to also be against blasphemers. I can see this troubles you, Shahid. Let us discuss this openly, like a family. I will tell all the brothers to assemble in your room early in the morning.

  Brownlow enters, eager to talk to Riaz, who draws Shahid further away.

  How is the typing coming?

  Shahid I’ve had to change a few things in your poems.

  Riaz Excellent. Are you having to translate my work into current English?

  Shahid No, it’s more like –

  Riaz Smoothing out?

  Shahid Yes.

  Riaz Good. What did you think of my poem?

  Shahid Which one?

  Riaz ‘The Wrath’. ‘The Wrath’.

  Shahid I – uh – haven’t got to that one yet.

  Riaz Chad says you have had some work published.

  Shahid In a magazine. A while ago.

  Riaz What was it called?

  Shahid ‘Paki Wog Fuck Off Home’.

  Riaz Did they publish it?

  Shahid They were going to. Except my ammi tore up the manuscript. Said no one would want to read such filth.

  Riaz Muslims like us will never get accepted.

  Shahid Oh no, there’s nothing more fashionable than people like us. You, brother, could have a wide appeal if the media knew of you.

  Riaz The media, yes. You must submit an article on this matter of blasphemy to the national newspapers.

  Shahid It’s difficult, with my room now a pilgrimage site …

  Riaz How are you getting on with Tahira?

  Shahid Fine, fine. She’s a good brother – (correcting himself) sister.

  Riaz An example to all our women. Modest. Obedient. She will make a good companion to a true young Muslim leader. And she wears no make-up.

  Shahid What?

  Riaz (reassuring) Let me see what I can do about your room. (Turning to Brownlow.) Welcome, Dr Brownlow to the site of the bona-fide miracle.

  Brownlow I have arranged for Councillor R-R-Rudder to attend.

  Riaz Excellent, excellent. You see, Shahid, all the great powers in the community are gathering in support of our cause. Councillor George Rugman Rudder is Labour leader of the entire elected council here. Will you write down what he says? (To Brownlow.) We need him to deliver a bigger place, Dr Brownlow.

  Councillor Rudder enters, sporting a huge cigar. The crowd gathers behind Riaz and Brownlow, to welcome Rudder.

  Rudder Hello there, people! Hello, all!

  Riaz, Brownlow and Rudder shake hands while Hat takes a photo, and Shahid scribbles furiously.

  Riaz Thank you for coming, Mr Rudder. We knew you would pay your respects.

  Rudder Naturally, naturally. What a marvellous crowd, worshipping the fruit of the earth! What a popular aubergine, top of the vegetable table! What a sound method of communication the miracle is! Thank God a Tory borough wasn’t chosen!

  Riaz Mr Rudder, our sincere thanks again for letting us use a private house in this public way. We understand how illegal it normally is. The whole community is eternally grateful. You are a true friend of Asia.

  Chad (while continuing to circle the aubergine) Friend of Asia!

  Hat (picking up the chant) And of Southall!

  Tahira And of Newham!

  Chad And of Brick Lane – Asia’s best friend!

  Hat and Tahira lead in the chant ‘Friend of Asia, friend of Asia, Asia’s best friend!’ as they continue to circle the aubergine.

  Rudder Yes, and I’ll be rewarded in heaven, no doubt. The Seventh Day Adventists have expressed deep satisfaction, and, it is said, mention my ailments in their prayers. Rastafarians shake my hand as I walk my dog. I am East London’s one true Anglo-Saxon friend! (To Riaz and Brownlow.) Naturally I have been generous enough to use my influence, against very racialist opposition, to open a private house in this way. But you are also smart enough to know, Riaz – and you are a smarty – that it can’t last for ever.

  Riaz Which is why, Councillor Rudder, we have been thinking so much about the Town Hall for the preservation of the sacred miracle in public.

  Brownlow (taken aback) Y-y-yes, the T-T-Town Hall.

  Rudder The Town Hall?

  Riaz Is there a reason why not?

  Chad (while continuing to circle the aubergine) Rudder, Rudder, Rudder – he’s our Asian brother!

  Crowd picks up the chant.

  Rudder Yes, yes, perhaps the Town Hall. There’s plenty of room. Most of it between the ears of the people who work there.

  Riaz It will have to be in the foyer. There is already hanging there a picture of Nelson Mandela. We must not be ghettoised.

  Chad No! No! No! Ghettoisation – no!

  Crowd picks up the chant.

  Rudder Let me first witness this phenomenal example of God’s signature.

  They part to allow him to enter.

  (Aside, to Brownlow.) Of course, revelations are faith’s aberration, an amusement at the most. But whatever helps the Labour Party get re-elected mustn’t be scoffed at. Let’s hope they curry this blue fruit. Brinjal, I believe it’s called. I could murder an Indian, couldn’t you?

  He proceeds to a viewing of the Miraculous

  Aubergine. Music. All disperse.

  Shahid returns to his computer. Night.

  Deedee enters, carrying her bag of books and notes.

  Shahid (excited) I wasn’t sure you’d come, Deedee.

  She sees ‘the miracle’ on the salver.

  Deedee (laughing) God in a pulpy vegetable!

  Shahid Is Prince culture? Or just what you think we darkies understand?

  Deedee I’m prepared to include voodoo as a subject of study because it’s part of the culture of some Caribbean Blacks, but that doesn’t mean I have to believe in it.

  Shahid Please, Deedee. I’ve got to make up my own mind about things! I don’t always want to be on the outside.

  Deedee Don’t ask me to believe in a communicating vegetable – and nor am I going to compete with one either. I’d heard books were on the way out, so now Riaz will want libraries to be replaced by greengrocers.

  Shahid It doesn’t matter any more! The Iranians are involved. They want to ban the book! I need help, Deedee.

  Deedee starts laughing.

  What is it? Deedee?!

  Deedee Give me your aubergine. Stick it in my earth and let me bless it with my holy waters.

  Shahid I’ve forced Riaz into an open debate tomorrow.

  Deedee What are you going to say?

  Shahid Give me a precis? I haven’t got time to
become educated first.

  He gathers his notebook and stands ready.

  Deedee Right then. There’s nothing new in wanting to ban a book. We’ve been down this road before – with Joyce, Lawrence, Miller, Nabokov. They were all censored in their time. And what did it change? People still read the banned books. Censorship’s never been successful. The last time it was tried was during the Inquisition – and that led to the fall of the very Church it was trying to protect. Not what your friends really want, is it?

  Shahid (impressed) Can you take them on instead of me?

  Deedee And what will you do?

  Shahid Cook you dinner?

  Deedee I’ll pass on that. These are your people, remember?

  Shahid I get confused sometimes.

  She hands him a pile of books from her bag.

  Will you stay?

  Deedee You’ve got work to do tonight.

  Shahid It’ll help me focus.

  Deedee The miracle and me aren’t meant to be in the same room.

  She gathers her things and leaves.

  Shahid Fuck!

  Shahid resumes working on his computer, flicking through the books. Chili enters with Strapper.

  What’s he doing here?

  Chili That’s Strapper –

  Shahid I know who he is! I’m working, Chili!

  Chili starts scrabbling about on the floor, hunting for his stash.

  Strapper Come on, Chili!

  Shahid What the fuck’s going on?

  Chili Didn’t think you’d met my partner.

  He finds the stash he’s hidden in the copy of Satanic Verses that Deedee had given Shahid

  Ah, there you are, my beauty!

  Strapper Come on, Chili, I’m dying here.

  Chili Patience, Strap-boy, there’s an art to satiating hunger.

  He carefully unwraps the coke, cuts it up on a page and snorts.

  Shahid (to Chili) Your closest brush with literature, ever.

  Chili (passing the score to Strapper) There you go, Strap – you gotta trust me.

  Strapper snorts.

  (To Shahid.) Got a drink?

  Shahid Fortunately not.

  Chili Been to evening prayers?

  Shahid Go home, Chili. If you can’t, just leave me be. I got things to do.

  Suddenly, two Heavies burst in. Strapper shrinks back in fear. Shahid is frozen in shock.

  Strapper I told you! Chili!

  Heavy 1 (to Chili) So?

  Chili hands over the money. The man counts it, snorts derisively and takes a step forward. Chili hands over his keys.

  Heavy 2 He’s got brains.

  Chili The Beamer parked outside. Full tank, too.

  Heavy 1 Pardon?

  Chili Full tank.

  The Heavies look at each other, and kick Chili repeatedly. They leave. Shahid scrambles over to his brother.

  Shahid What’s happening to you, Chili?

  Chili pushes him away and goes to the still-whimpering Strapper.

  Chili (knocks on Strapper’s head) There’s someone in there. Oh, yes, I know there is.

  Strapper Christ. They … they gone?

  Chili For now.

  Strapper Right. Phew.

  Chili (to Shahid, as he lays Strapper down gently) Floor’s very hard. Where’s your landlord?

  Shahid What’s going on, Chili?

  Chili (ignoring him) I want to complain. He’s a fucker. (Beat.) If Papa were alive, we’d be giving him heart attacks. Which of us, do you think, would he be more horrified by? I’d love to take a picture of you praying on your knees and send it to him in heaven. He’d probably say, ‘What’s my boy doing down there, looking for some money he’s dropped?’

  Shahid, exasperated, resumes work on his computer.

  There you have it, Strap, my hard-working baby brother. Times are moody, I have to admit, but he’ll sort us out, won’t you, bro? Hey, Strap, look at the dreamer.

  Strapper Like me.

  Chili You?

  Strapper Yeah, me, man.

  Chili They ain’t dreams, they’re drug hallucinations!

  Strapper Fuck off, man. You should’ve sorted the cash! You kept sayin’ London was too small a place for ya. Is it small enough for you now, Chili, eh – this small enough?

  Chili Shhh, let the boy work, Strap. Hey, what’s the score, bro?

  Shahid (tetchy) What’s free speech to you, Chili?

  Chili Don’t bend your knee.

  Strapper Windbag! You done shat yourself when those heavies came in for their money!

  Chili That’s just a game, Strap. But this here now –

  He clutches hold of Strapper, as he addresses Shahid.

  – this here is pure censorship. Nothing terrible will ever happen to us, unless we will it. That’s just the way it is. But evil’s been done to Strap, practically from day one he’s been censored. Don’t do this! Stop there! Stay away from that! He don’t deserve to be wasted. If you want to fight for anything, fight for him.

  Shahid I think I want to be a writer.

  Chili What’s wrong with being a travel agent?

  Shahid You try it! Papa left everything to you. Ammi needs you.

  Chili You want me to be like all the other Pakis in their dirty shops, humourlessly keeping their eyes only on the pennies dropping in their palms? Go and work there if you like it so much. I give you my place! But you won’t either. We ain’t ones to make sacrifices, are we, bro?

  Shahid Just go home, Chili, please. Papa worked his arse off.

  Chili remains silent.

  (Insistent.) To give us a decent life.

  Chili And what is that? Do you know?

  He grabs hold of Shahid.

  Why won’t you tell me?

  Shahid Let go of me!

  Chili No one knows!

  He slaps Shahid. Shahid goes to punch him, but Chili slaps him again.

  Now shut it!

  Shahid Fuck, fuck!

  Shahid returns to his computer, as Chili and Strapper lie wasted.

  After a time, Shahid covers his trembling brother with a blanket and continues working.

  Morning dawns. Chili gets up and takes Strapper out with him.

  There is a knock on the door. Shahid shuts down his computer, tidies himself and opens the door to Riaz, Brownlow, Chad and Hat.

  Riaz Salaam a-leikum, Shahid.

  Shahid Wa-leikum salaam.

  Riaz and the others take their seats in the room.

  Riaz Come, remind everyone of the topic you want to debate.

  Chad You call us here for what, when the issue is obvious?

  Shahid I hope it is. John Milton said long ago that he who destroys a good book kills reason itself. The best way to respond to the book is to guard against that.

  Hat Are you talking of that book?

  Shahid Yes, Hat. There’s been a long history of books being banned – Joyce’s Ulysses was burned in New York and then Lawrence, when he wrote Lady Chatterley’s –

  Hat Is that Lawrence of Arabia?

  Shahid No, D. H. Lawrence – he wrote a lot about physical passion – sex –