This audacious novel opens with Ayn as she reflects on the act of
writing and wonders if love alone is sufficient subject for a narrative.
Haltingly at first, she weaves the tale of her love affair with Ali with
witty asides about her own writing, and the limits and self-deceptions
that are at the heart of all storytelling. As the story finds its way,
through sea and desert, and the realms of mysticism and magic, we learn
of a passionate, volatile relationship, one severely tested through
countless separations, of Ayn's relationships with other men, including
her intense encounters with a Corsican ex-convict, and of her own desire
to escape the confines of marriage, even to the man she loves.
Disarmingly candid in the telling, So You May See leads us gently into a
revolt, a fierce rebuttal of conventional romantic literature and an
indictment of the sexual mores and unquestioned attitudes to marriage
and relationships in contemporary Egypt.