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I

WOMAN IN MOROVENIA


Morovenia is a state in which both the mosque and the motor-car now
occur in the same landscape. It started out to be Turkish and later
decided to be European.

The Mohammedan sanctuaries with their hideous stencil decorations and
bulbous domes are jostled by many new shops with blinking fronts and
German merchandise. The orthodox turn their faces toward Mecca while the
enlightened dream of a journey to Paris. Men of title lately have made
the pleasing discovery that they may drink champagne and still be good
Mussulmans. The red slipper has been succeeded by the tan gaiter. The
voluminous breeches now acknowledge the superior graces of intimate
English trousers. Frock-coats are more conventional than beaded jackets.
The fez remains as a part of the insignia of the old faith and
hereditary devotion to the Sick Man.

The generation of males which has been extricating itself from the
shackles of Orientalism has not devoted much worry to the Condition of
Woman.

In Morovenia woman is still unliberated. She does not dine at a
palm-garden or hop into a victoria on Thursday afternoon to go to the