Decoding the Underlying Narrative in Metro: A Story of Cairo<\/i><\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Amr Abbas<\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Introduction<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n On a surface \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Background<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n Metro<\/span><\/i> has received \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Social Layer and Class Critique<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n The cultural While the \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0Fig. 1. Ringtones depicting different social and age classes of Egyptian society. (Metro, p. 5).<\/span><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n Music has always The Other signs \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Fig. 2. The Nike ripoff t-shirt with the \u201cSwoosh\u201d logo as seen throughout the graphic novel. Page 5.<\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Fig. 3. The Mercedes car. Page 7.<\/b><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n Cultural The \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Interlying Socio-political Critique in Narration<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n After the However, the The demise of
\nlevel, the graphic novel Metro<\/i> — and its English translation Metro:
\nA Story of Cairo<\/i> — presents little more than a secondary critique of the
\nsocio-political and economic status quo of the late Hosni Mubarak (1928 \u2013 2020)
\nera. Yet, with some knowledge of the period\u2019s socio-political context, it
\nbecomes more than a passing critique. The graphic novel borrows from Western
\ntradition when it comes to character design and the narrative course of the
\ngraphic narrative. However, despite the Westernization of the narrative and how
\nit easily translates to a more Western style, particularly American, it is,
\nfirst and foremost, made for an Egyptian audience. Metro<\/i> takes place
\nduring the final years of Mubarak\u2019s regime [he ruled from 1981-2011] and
\nshortly before the beginning of the Arab Spring and the 25th<\/sup> of
\nJanuary Revolution [2011] in Egypt. This paper investigates and decodes the
\nunderlying socio-political layer of the translated narrative through a close
\nreading of the graphic novel with knowledge of the cultural context. It thereby
\naims to contextualize this layer of narration in both El Shafee\u2019s Arabic
\noriginal of Metro (El Shafee, 2008) <\/i>and the English-language translation
\nby Chip Rossetti — Metro: A Story of Cairo<\/i> (El Shafee, 2012), arguing
\nhow familiarity with the socio-political and cultural context in which the
\ngraphic novel is rooted is essential for a more fundamental understanding of
\nit.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\nacclaim from Egyptian and Arab critics and has been translated into Italian and
\nEnglish. However, ahead of that, the comic was ironically banned from
\npublication in 2008. The published copies were suppressed for the inclusion of \u201cinappropriate
\nstatements and pictures,\u201d and the publication was considered \u201charmful to public
\nethics.\u201d (Hanafy, 2016: 421). The comic itself follows the straightforward
\ntrajectory of an Americanized style of the action genre, where Shehab, a young
\ncomputer engineer, is chased after by a loan shark, pushing him to decide to
\nrob a bank using his advanced software. The narrative is structurally divided
\nby landscape markers, particularly in the form of Metro stations. However, the
\nsimple and rather straightforward narrative is not the most intriguing aspect
\nof the graphic novel for a close reading; it is the implied villain that forced
\ncensorship upon the work: corruption. Corruption in the graphic novel involves
\nitself heavily with the context of the late-Mubarak era, particularly during
\nthe peak of police and government corruption. However, the interweaving of the
\ncultural background within the narrative is not clear-cut to the casual reader,
\nsince many elements carry additional weight that capture the socio-political
\nanxieties of the late-Mubarak era. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\nunderstanding of the graphic novel is implied early on with the appearance of
\nvisions of material Egyptian culture, such as the ringing of mobile phones with
\ndifferent songs as ringtones (El Shafee, 2012: 5). While on the surface level,
\nthe ringtones only present the different norms of Egyptian society and Egyptian
\nculture, through a close reading, they present different social and age classes
\nof the individual, something which is almost all but missing in translation in the
\nEnglish version. In Fig. 1<\/b>, the first panel to the left presents a
\nmiddle-aged man who is likely a government employee,1<\/sup> portrayed
\nthrough the way he holds his phone at a distance and the fashion style with the
\nsuspenders, the high-up trousers, and the tucked-in half-sleeve shirt. The
\nchoice of ringtone here is a traditional one, playing with the idea that a man
\nof that lifestyle is technologically challenged. The second and third panels
\npresent younger generations, with the second panel playing a very popular 2006
\nromantic song by Mohammed Hamaky and the third likely playing a 2004 rap
\nboyband song by MTM that was most popular among young men. The fourth panel
\nplays more with the stereotype of the working class or unemployed strugglers,
\noften referred to as tramps in colloquial Egyptian. The final panel portrays an
\nolder woman who visually resembles the stereotypical female government employee
\nor a housewife,2<\/sup> with the stereotypical ringtone \u201cEnta Omry\u201d3<\/sup>
\n<\/i>from 1965 by Umm Kalthoum. This decoding of the visuo-textual messages
\nwithin the graphic novel is re-coded through the translation, and that is where
\nsome of the messages are lost in translation. Hall refers to the
\nmisunderstanding of coded messages and points out the need to understand the
\ncontextual socio-political situations, and even then, he refers to the \u201cdominant\u201d
\nand the \u201cpreferred\u201d code, which can be lost through the \u201cselective perception\u201d
\nof the audience within the same language, let alone in a translated version
\n(Hall, 1980: 512\u2013515). Similarly, Dittmar refers to the symbolic language in
\ncomics and the role of signs in relating and expressing the idea or the concept
\nto the reader (Dittmar, 2020: 31). As Hall\u2019s argument relates to audio-visual
\ncommunication, Dittmar\u2019s focuses on the textual and the visual sequential
\nlanguage of comics, which can be interpreted through the visual and lingual
\ncodes layered within the narrative (Dittmar, 2020: 40\u201341). While the concept of
\nmultiple signifieds on one signifier was originally developed for landmarks
\n(Dittmar, 2016: 209\u2013210), Dittmar has since used the same concept — which
\ndescribes a condition where a single visual and\/or textual signifier
\nsimultaneously carries several meanings depending on the reader\/viewer — in
\nrelation to comics (Dittmar, 2020: 31\u201332).<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\ncultural context and understanding are much easier to grasp for an
\nArabic-speaking reader from anywhere in the Middle East — thanks to the high
\npopularity of Egyptian cultural output in film, song, and art in general — the
\ncontext becomes harder to decipher for a non-Middle Eastern audience, and
\npractically impossible without aid for a non-Arabic-speaking audience. What is
\nlost in translation, in this case, becomes crucial to the overall tone of the
\ngraphic novel and the underlying narrative within the folds of the chapters.
\nFor example, the hardest part to decipher within the five panels is the third,
\nwhich reads \u201cBa-bump-a-bump-bump\u201d in the English translation, yet, in the
\noriginal Arabic, it reads \u201cTerrren terrelem terrelem-lem,\u201d which could be a
\nreference to the music in MTM\u2019s song \u201cMy phone is ringing.\u201d4<\/sup> The
\ninterweaving of the cultural expressions and practices of different individuals
\nand groups in the narrative demonstrates the multidimensional fabric of
\nEgyptian society. The contrast between the younger characters in panels two and
\nthree and one and five is demonstrated both visually, textually, and
\ncontextually. However, situating the cultural context within those panels
\nrequires a certain level of familiarity with the socio-political and
\nsocio-economic dynamics of the period. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n![](\"https:\/\/blogger.googleusercontent.com\/img\/b\/R29vZ2xl\/AVvXsEgRg54r_jIZ-hdrqR5Zdz1KBfqEVeJ9zHCyffLtRtez8n5aUY88rxG2MWsvuxR3v4BWn_XAe-YAQf-iFmsQ1DsBiJofbhh13L7ArnXjFia6ENymofr3H6HTCptXOAhwsMBfEp977FdXiPm-5rEDTdSQrDFyVag4UI6hAq_IkHXgzXBORlcc89tVYPgMjR8\/s925\/Abbas_Fig.%201.jpg\")
<\/a><\/div>\n
\nbeen a symbol of culture, class, and lifestyle. Mobile ringtones during the
\nmid-2000s have also played a role in cultural expression, individuality, and
\nmood (Gopinath, 2013: xx\u2013xxi). In addition to the inaudible lyrical (and
\nmusical) signs, there are also the visual signs clearly present within the five
\npanels in both the way the characters dress and the way they stand (with their
\nmobile phones). For instance, the first panel signals the age of the character
\nthrough his bald pattern and the way he dresses, with suspenders and trousers
\nlifted a little too high. In the second, the pattern of the tight trousers and
\nthe veil present a common critique of the way young women dressed during the
\nlate 2000s, with the contradictory fashion of the hijab<\/i> (veil) to
\nconceal the female, accompanied by tight trousers and tops and high heels,
\nwhich are often pointed out socially as pretentious. The third panel presents a
\nyounger generation with rolled-up sleeves and a patterned shirt that is left untucked.
\nThe fourth, as previously mentioned, refers to a particular layer of society,
\noften referred to as the unemployed, which ironically presents the most
\nworking-class group in the city. The final panel presents a quizzical mixture
\nof upper-middle-class and nostalgic expression in the form of the woman\u2019s
\nskirt, hairdo, and the ringtone in itself. The ringtone song in the fifth panel
\nrefers to what was once considered high culture (Hammond, 2004: 144\u2013146), but
\nit is now regarded as nostalgic.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\ntranslator\u2019s introduction refers to some of the songs that are mentioned in
\nthese panels (El Shafee, 2012: ix\u2013x). However, even with these notes, the
\ncultural context can be misread and misidentified without the relevant cultural
\nknowledge. Additionally, there is a locational layer that plays a part in the
\ndefinition of the socio-economic classes of the characters within the graphic
\nnovel. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\nthat are only recognized within sufficient cultural knowledge, understanding,
\nand background take shape in the visual form that El Shafee focused on in some
\npanels, particularly in relation to the more important secondary characters.
\nMustafa, for instance, is signaled to be of a lower class, particularly by the
\nt-shirt he wears throughout the narrative. It reads \u201cNile\u201d with the Nike
\ncheckmark-like \u201cSwoosh\u201d [Fig. 2<\/b>]. And, the distinction of the climbing
\nsocial class of the villain \u201cHagg Ghareeb\u201d as seen through the Mercedes-Benz he
\nrides. The German automobile has been a strong social identifier of class in
\nEgyptian culture, often shown in TV dramas and films [Fig. 3<\/b>].
\nContextually, the Mercedes-Benz has long been used to signal a stereotypical
\nstatus symbol of a particular social class and is often used to pinpoint the
\nrich villain, such as is the case with the iconic Noor Al Sharif film, \u201cThe
\nShame\u201d <\/span>(1982)<\/span>, where Al
\nSharif\u2019s character drove the same (but older model) vehicle. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/a><\/div>\n<\/a><\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n
\nknowledge is therefore essential to closely examine the different layers of the
\ngraphic novel, aside from the work as a culturally independent work. The
\nsnippet of cultural understanding that Rossetti shares with the reader in his
\nintroduction, particularly in the references to the secondary character, Wannas,
\nis sufficient for the base level of understanding of the comic. Wannas presents
\na crucial strand of Egyptians in many dimensions, which will be further
\ndiscussed in the following part of this paper. Rossetti writes, \u201cWannas is a
\nSa\u2019idi from Sa\u2019id, or Upper Egypt, whose people are considered hicks and are
\noften the target of Egyptian jokes,\u201d which explains the segment on page 19 — that
\nthe translator refers to in his note (El Shafee, 2012: ix) — \u00a0<\/span>but only minimally expresses the interlinking
\nof the social class to the socio-political layer of the comic.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\ninterweaving of social and age norms of the late 2000s in Egypt is not only
\nportrayed in the way those characters are designed, it is played with much more
\nin a socio-political context as a means of critique against the Egyptian
\ngovernment and the stale Egyptian politics and political scene before the
\nEgyptian Revolution of 2011. The political interplay becomes much more evident
\nduring the penultimate section (El Shafee, 2012: 65\u201380), particularly with the use
\nof the protest as a cataclysmic event in the narrative. Whereas the speculation
\nof a revolution was hard to imagine at that point, the comic depicts a much
\nsmaller idea, referring indirectly to the numerous protests against the
\ngovernment that occurred from the beginning of 2006 until the downfall of the
\nMubarak regime on Feb. 11, 2011.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\nopening segment of the un-chaptered graphic novel, the first \u201cstation\u201d appears
\nin the text, signifying a temporal and spatial shift. The stations, following
\nthe title of \u201cmetro,\u201d signal the different \u201cchapters\u201d of the graphic novel.
\nThey also signal shifts of time and space and, more importantly, a succession
\nof events, which is not only crucial to understanding the underlying political
\nnarrative but also refers to a speculation of a then future that already came
\nto be. The use of trains as a metaphor for arriving at a different stage in
\nspace and time has been coded into the visual memory (Kilbourn, 2013: 317\u2013318)
\nthrough other works from film and TV.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\nmetro stations also convey a different narrative of the story, particularly, regarding
\nsocio-economic classes and different levels of political or apolitical
\nengagement during the stale period of the Mubarak regime. Class-critique in
\nrelation to particular areas of Cairo is harder to define without the cultural
\ncontext and the intertextual coding based on various works of different media.
\nThe differentiation of class in the graphic novel serves as one of the many
\ninterweaving layers of the political value of the work. The two secondary
\ncharacters, Wannas and Wael, present two sides of one coin in Metro<\/i>: the
\nsilent majority and the alignment to support or protest when forced to take a
\nside. Both characters take on unethical and illegal gigs: Wannas dislodges
\nhimself from his shoe-cleaning work and opts for begging instead, which in turn
\nprovides him with much more money, whereas Wael takes on a job as a National
\nDemocratic Party thug5<\/sup> to attack protestors during a demonstration
\ninstead of his work as a wedding singer. Both characters, who represent the
\npoor and apolitical, return near the end of the graphic novel in the protest
\nsection on opposite sides. Whereas Wannas finds his true calling in leading the
\nprotest with his voice, Wael finds himself on the same side as before: a thug.
\nThe concluding moments of their lives come in stark opposites despite dying at
\nthe same protest. Wannas says, \u201cIn my life, death is the best thing to happen
\nto me. I\u2019m a free man.\u201d Whereas Wael\u2019s last words are \u201cI wanted to make a video
\nclip [\u2026].\u201d (El Shafee, 2012: 76\u201377). And then, both characters face entirely
\ndifferent endings: Wannas is redeemed, whereas Wael is forsaken by the very
\nparty that caused his death. The significance and futility of the two
\ncharacters\u2019 demise and the aftermath of their deaths show the precariousness
\nand the value of life; while one is celebrated for his moment of redemption,
\nthe other is forgotten.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n
\nWael and his dissociation from the National Party is an act of betrayal and
\nscapegoating that was a common tactic used by the ruling regime and party.
\nWhile the events of the Camel Incident or Battle of the Camel (BBC News, 2012;
\nWikimedia Foundation, 2024)6<\/sup> occurred several years after the
\nrelease (and censorship) of the original version of Metro<\/i>, the same
\ntactic has been repeated by high-up party members. While the signals are clear
\nin both the original language and the translation that the villainous party
\nmembers deny Wael\u2019s involvement and recruitment, socio-political and cultural
\nunderstanding are crucial to connect it to previous encounters between thugs
\nand protestors in Egypt, as well as ones that happened after the writing of the
\ngraphic novel. While readers who are unfamiliar with the relevant
\nsocio-political and cultural context are likely to interpret this segment as
\nspeculative or fully fictional, those who possess the necessary contextual
\nknowledge are allowed deeper insights by drawing a connection with factual
\nincidents.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n