The Circular Narrative Structure in the Novel (The End of an Angry Man) by Bassam Shams Al-Deen

Yemenat

Mohammed Al–Mekhlafi

The novel (The End of an Angry Man) is the seventh work among twelve novels by the Yemeni writer Bassam Shams Al-Deen. Its first edition was published in 2020 with a deposit number at the National Library in Sana’a. The author also has two short story collections, in addition to four novels that are ready for publication.

This novel follows (The Prophecy of the Elders) which some readers believed attacked the Republican era. However, its true aim was to portray the fear and injustice experienced by peasants under the authority of feudal lords during the monarchical era, while also hinting at the chaos and corruption that later emerged in the Republican age. The writer intended to present a clear picture of both scenes without favoring one side over the other.

In (The End of an Angry Man) Shams Al-Deen discusses classism, the belief among some jurists in racial superiority, and the extremist ideologies that arise from these beliefs. The novel continues his ongoing project of deconstructing social and intellectual problems as they are, without flattery or equivocation.

Shams Al-Deen emphasizes that his writing does not align with any social or political doctrine and that he stands with ordinary people who are crushed by circumstances. This is his own statement, not an interpretation by others.

From the very first page, the novel moves from the end toward the beginning, as though built on an exhausted memory trying to retrieve the past in order to understand the present. 

This narrative technique reflects the nature of the events themselves. Painful experiences are sometimes narrated in reverse because the narrator cannot confront the trauma directly.

I was captivated by the voice of the narrator, the twelve-year-old child (Zaid). Narrating through a child’s perspective lends the novel special sensitivity, but it also reveals that childhood in that period was far from normal. Zaid is a child in age but mature in thought, as if harsh circumstances forced him to grow up more quickly than he should have.

On the third page, Zaid describes a delicate family situation when he suggests that Hind come to the village to study. The parents’ reactions, marked by hesitation and anxiety, reveal a harsh truth: the scarcity of educational facilities in remote areas. 

The mother’s protectiveness and confusion and the father’s proposed compromise reflect the depth of parental care and the struggle between emotional attachment and the desire to provide better opportunities for their daughter. With calm realism, the text presents the challenges families face in educating their children.

Amid this limited access to education, the environment becomes fertile ground for the emergence of extremist ideas. This appears when the father slaps his daughter Zahra for revealing her legs.

 The event is not trivial, it reflects a mindset that views the body as a source of shame and conflates religion with honor. Violence becomes part of upbringing in an environment shaped by isolation and poverty.

Anger is the exposed nerve of the novel. Its title prepares the reader for a story driven by emotional tension, which is embodied in the character of Malek, described on page 5 as agitated like a damned devil and inclined toward anger and domination.

 He is a young man shaped by contradiction, raised in a kind family yet carrying acquired anger, possibly from his exiled father or the family’s painful history. His violence is not a reaction but part of his identity.

In the scene of reckless driving on pages (7 and 8) where Malek frightens two children and laughs smugly, violence appears as a means of control and the construction of masculine superiority. 

His words, which shame Zaid for screaming, encapsulate an entire concept of manhood in that environment. Manhood is measured by the ability to endure or inflict pain without showing weakness.

Despite the fractured family structure, it is not entirely devoid of tenderness. The aunt, Fawziya, although exiled, appears with a warm heart, as if carrying an emotional refuge that contrasts with the cruelty surrounding the family. 

Her exile reveals the fragility of the family in the face of patriarchal authority, yet her presence confirms that goodness can survive even in harsh environments.

The grandfather appears on page (37) in a moment of deep vulnerability. His initial refusal to accept Hind reveals a heavy burden of shame associated with Fawziya’s past. His silence, his trembling voice, and his eventual change of heart reveal an internal conflict between the principles he inherited and the compassion he suppresses. Step by step, he transforms from a rigid guardian of tradition into a reluctant protector, exposing the emotional logic that underpins the novel’s circular structure, where old wounds continually resurface.

Malek, on the other hand, embodies the angry man. His outward politeness disguises his resentment, and his whispered words reveal deep emotional wounds and a persistent sense of rejection. His hostility is both learned and inherited, part of a legacy of anger passed down through generations.

Hind becomes a pawn caught between competing forces. Her plea to stay with her grandfather reflects innocence and an earnest desire for belonging, confronting the heavy shadows that family reputation casts over personal bonds.

Zaid’s role as narrator and participant intensifies here. His decision to hold Hind’s arm and stand with her reveals expanding moral awareness, marking his transition from observer to active challenger of the adult world’s contradictions.

The scene is rich with unspoken history. The grandfather’s broken question about Fawziya speaks volumes about a severed bond. Malek’s defensive pride in declaring their financial success exposes his need to deny poverty as a marker of inferiority.

This moment illustrates how anger, shame, and rigid social codes distort relationships. Yet it also shows that compassion can break these patterns, even if only briefly. The novel’s circular narrative becomes evident as each present event forces characters to confront unresolved past conflicts.

The story reveals a hidden inheritance of anger. Zaid grows up surrounded by angry men, as though he were destined to become one himself. The novel appears to be an attempt to rescue him from that fate. His father’s death, his fear for Hind, his complicated relationship with school, and his fragmented memories all point toward a child struggling to escape the legacy that haunts his family.

Human emotion reaches its peak when Zaid presents the white bag containing his father’s remains on page (40). This moment symbolizes the collapse of the father’s authority and the end of his anger. It is as if the novel is saying that violence always ends in silent fragility.

The father’s memories of his sister Fawziya reveal a heavy past that haunted him for twenty years. His dream is an echo of an old wound that transformed into enduring anger. The belief that a woman’s disobedience, even in the name of love, is an unforgivable sin reveals the rigid mindset that shaped him. This conflict between tradition and personal freedom fuels anger and psychological turmoil.

Fawziya’s invitation to visit her becomes a new turning point. The father is torn between old anger and familial duty, between love and fear of confronting a painful past. His anger becomes a defense mechanism wrapped in moral and religious justification.

The novel documents the father’s collapse and the beginning of the son’s independent emergence. Upper and Lower Al Kafr are not merely settings but psychological stages.

 Harsh landscapes mirror the brutality of people who sanctified violence until it became part of their identity. From this journey emerges Zaid’s new self, fatherless, disillusioned, and more aware of the world’s truths.

The circular structure plays a crucial role in this understanding. The narrative begins at the end and then returns to the beginning, mimicking the human mind’s attempt to make sense of trauma by searching backward for the moment where everything started to unravel.

 This technique allows readers to experience events as the child himself did: fragmented, overlapping, and filled with unresolved questions.

(The End of an Angry Man) is a significant contribution to Yemeni narrative and to modern Arabic literature as a whole. It is a work worthy of recognition. 

Bassam Shams Al-Deen has succeeded in presenting a novel that reflects continuous effort, accumulated awareness, and the fruit of a long journey toward precision and distinction.