Broadly speaking, literary fiction that touches on politics fall in one of two categories: the first make a few sweeping statements, have the (very) occasional paragraphs with a few high-level details, interspersed with the odd general reference; the second is fairly detailed on the political situation - whether historical or unfolding within the context of the novel. Both have their place, serving different purposes in different types of novel. However, the average reader appears to be more comfortable with the former form, rather than the latter, especially when not intimately familiar with the country or countries involved.
Not that I blame them; if the latter kind of novel concerned some obscure South American politics, I would likely feel the same. It is a pity though that this is enough to prevent people from being able to value certain types of books.
Another factor that can trigger reader aversion or fatigue is "foreign names" (think of all the complaints about the Russian patronymics), especially when there is an abundance of them. The death knell in terms of reader opinion to a book seems to be a combination of the two - an (over-) abundance of both foreign politics and foreign names.
The Map of Love happens to have both; it tells two stories, the first of a young widowed English gentlewoman who, at the dawn of the twentieth century on a trip to Egypt becomes enamoured of the country, the culture and its people; the other deals with modern relations of the earlier characters as the end of the twentieth century approaches.
The earlier story is set during the period of the British Protectorate over Egypt, and soon the political situation is seen from the perspective of the educated middle and upper class Egyptians, their aspirations and the British response to their efforts. The modern story, again told from the Egyptian perspective, considers the contemporary state of unrest in Egypt and the changes fundamentalism brought about, frequently ironically (though not overtly) contrasting the situation and its outcome to its former (perhaps naive) expectations. Interwoven is the effect of Western foreign policy on the region.
It is in this contrast, and the honest portrayal of searching people dealing with harsh realities that the strength of this novel lies; the political history Soueif presents is not difficult to follow and is imbued with a sense of urgency and intrigue that served to capture my attention. The portrayal of Egyptian culture is also engaging without descending into sentimentality.
Unfortunately the same can not be said of the love stories for which the above forms at times a backdrop before coming into prominence again. This part of the plot is decidedly sentimental and clicheéd, marring my enjoyment and appreciation of the book.
I find it decidedly ironical then to discover that most readers who disliked the book did so because there was "too much politics" in the book, and too many names and dates.
