Aunt Safiyya Ch. 1 and 2

One of the qualities of a good book (or, at the very least, a good story) is the ability to bring the reader into the world in which the book takes place, as it gives them a deeper emotional investment into the words they're reading. Baha Taher is well aware of this, and from the very beginning of his novel, Aunt Safiyya and the Monastery, he paints a mental picture of his village, the people, and the monastery. The very first words the reader sees are rough estimations of distance of the village to the monastery, reading like directions a local might give to a stranger.
The guide who leads the readers through the book does not keep us strangers for long, however; we are soon introduced to the narrator's family, their customs and relations to the monastery, drawing us deeper into the story. Soon it is as if we had been there all along, taking in the delectable mental imagery of the treats and foods prepared for the monks by the host family Taher has provided us. It is certainly a relief to read a story where one feels included from the beginning instead of feeling as though a voyeur of sorts as the action unfolds.
Continuing with its very slice of life feel, we join the narrator as he goes to deliver the precious gifts in his 'monastery box,' and also grow to appreciate Taher's writing more. It becomes apparent through Taher's use of language and seemingly unrelated anecdotes what sort of person our narrator is: fiercely independent, well educated, and intensely proud. It is evident that he is just beginning to grow accustomed to being respected, being someone who can be taken seriously, and the structure of the novel reflects this. For instance, he finishes a paragraph talking about how his parents have given him the important responsibility of bringing the precious gifts for the monks, as his sisters are incapable. The next paragraph details his chats with the miqqadis Bishai, a man he clearly respects, revealing a warm pride in himself for being able to chat with such a wise man.
The next chapter is quite a departure from the first in terms of subject matter. The first third of the chapter is devoted exclusively to the titular Aunt Safiyya, who is actually only a few years older than our narrator. Taher spends several passages and truly, the majority of the first part of this chapter detailing her beauty and how very much all the men desired her. Eventually, she is married off to the consul bey, a friend of the narrator's family and also to Harbi, who is also related to the narrator. After rumors are spread that Harbi wants to kill the bey's new son, a feud breaks out between the once close bey and Harbi. Soon, violence escalates, and after torturing Harbi, the bey is killed when Harbi shoots him. Safiyya fills her heart with hate, and it becomes apparent why so much time was spent talking about her beauty.
After her husband's death at the hands of Harbi, Safiyya is described as having undergone a radical change, appearing to the narrator as though she were an old woman. This can be seen as a metaphor for any two families, though, as the book makes it clear that vendettas between families were commonplace. Her beauty reflects the beauty of families living in harmony, and peace over each village. However, when jealousy and lies get between even the closest of friends, reason dies, much like the bey, and soon all that is left is a fragile shell of what used to be so beautiful.
All in all, I've very much enjoyed what I've read of Aunt Safiyya and the Monestary so far. It's very engaging, mentally stimulating, and always entertaining to pick up. Have any of you picked up on any other symbolism that Taher might have been putting in?