"London Fog" by Eman Quotah

4/4/2022

Photo by Andrew Chent

Eman Quotah is the author of the novel Bride of the Sea. She grew up in Jidda, Saudi Arabia, and Cleveland Heights, Ohio. Her writing has appeared in The Washington Post, USA Today, The Toast, The Establishment, Book Riot, Literary Hub, Electric Literature and other publications. She lives with her family near Washington, D.C.

Morgan Kovacs is an MFA candidate at American University. Having both lived in the Midwest and East Coast, Morgan's writing examines and dissects the way geography and environment impact individuals, specifically women. Her fiction often grapples with autonomy, desire, and power. She lives in DC, but will tell anyone who listens, Midwest is best.

Introduction to "London Fog"
by Morgan Kovacs

An outsider might only associate DC with government and policy, fundraisers and lobbyists, but alongside the political energy beats a vibrant and rich literary scene, vital for keeping this city grounded and alive. Inside that community you will find Eman Quotah, who, since arriving in DC nearly twenty years ago, has cemented her place within it.

The image of a writer is often romanticized as one who thrives in brooding solitude, but art lends to art. As writers, we lean on one another for inspiration and support, so when Quotah arrived in DC, she signed up for workshops at The Writer’s Center in Bethesda, Maryland. While there, she met Richard Peabody who later approached her about submitting a story to Grace and Gravity. Quotah wrote her first draft of “London Fog” while at Johns Hopkins as a student in the advanced academic programs master’s in fiction writing concentration.

Born in Jidda, Saudi Arabia, Quotah moved to the US as a child and spent the ensuing years living between the two countries, an experience that no doubt lends to her writing. Given her worldly background, it’s not exactly surprising that Quotah has chosen to call DC home, with its diverse and international influence. Elements of “London Fog” reflect this straddling of cultures and countries: One daughter in London, another in LA; A mother visiting from Cairo, and a father working in Qatar. In her writing, Quotah aims to represent places so that those who’ve been there can recognize it, and those who’ve never been there can see it. Even on a micro-level, Quotah exhibits clear control over setting. I found this especially apparent within the contained structure of “London Fog”. By painting such a vivid image of the daughter’s apartment, Quotah also gives hints about character. The apartment, a writer’s haven, complete with piles of books and newspapers, clothes strewn about and a half-eaten bowl of cereal, is juxtaposed with the mother’s neat appearance in heels and wool. This delicate and detailed setting gives me insight into the characters in a fresh fashion; I know who these characters are without ever being directly told.

In such a tight space, the movements in this story bring the piece to life and give it a texture, so that the experience of reading it feels less like watching the events and conversations unfold, and closer to actually being in the room while it’s happening. The movements add layers to the characters: the mother, unexpectedly dropping in on her daughter, cleans up the books and clothes on the floor. Her actions alongside their tension-filled conversation reveal this push-pull relationship between mother and daughter. It’s intricate, yet familiar to me. It’s care and frustration and love and annoyance bundled into one. This story proves again and again the complexity of familial relationships, how opposing emotions can somehow coexist. And it’s this notion that prompts a bit of introspection on my part. The urge to call my mother, to thank her, swells inside of me.

Though set in England, the roots of this story expand beyond British soil. A mother’s illness applies pressures on a family spread across the globe. The story explores the complexity of family dynamics and the miscommunication that develops when generations and geography factor into the equation. Every writer is a bit obsessed with something and that something inevitably shows up in our work. For Quotah, that “something” is family dynamics. She says she is interested in those dynamics and whether or not she sets out to write about them, they often find their way into her work. Rather than deny those themes, Quotah embraces them with a skillful grace; nothing about this story feels forced.

When Quotah showed Richard Peabody her story, he had only one suggestion: End it sooner – an interesting edit, I tell Quotah, as I found the ending a tad unconventional. If you are seeking a story with a neat, tied-up ending, this is not it, which makes me admire it that much more. She doesn’t follow the typical illness plot line that readers expect (ie diagnosis, treatment, health/death). What risk it takes to deny the readers the anticipated outcome! That confidence and assuredness makes me trust Quotah to tell any story. In skirting our expectations, she forces us to sit in the tension of the piece.

After finishing “London Fog,” I needed a moment to regroup. Quotah writes with a gentleness that gives the story a certain edge. It’s gutting and honest. “London Fog” has the capacity to stir different feelings with each read. Though the situation is unique to this family, the emotions are not.

It is a risky act for a writer to reread a story they have written years ago. Time begets personal growth and change. There is no promise that what we write now, will hold true ten or fifteen years from now. There is no promise that what we write now will hold true even three years from now. Yet, despite the fact that Quotah first wrote the story fifteen years ago, it transcends time. When Quotah reread the story in preparation for its republication, she admits that the story still feels current. Though, reading it now, as a mother, forces Quotah to read it from a shifted perspective and worldview. Quotah was a bit worried about rereading the mother character specifically. Had she been too hard on her? Created too harsh of an image? But the concern is for naught. Fifteen years ago, Quotah created a mother with a depth of love, care, and hope.

One question sticks with me long after I finish reading: Can a daughter fully understand her mother’s love without becoming a mother herself? Because I adore these characters and their humanness, I like to imagine they live on and perhaps, like Quotah herself, if the daughter becomes a mother, she, too, will see her mother in a gentler light.

I’ve spent years studying short stories. Years of investigating my feelings after claiming to love any story. “But why?” I would question myself. What makes one story a great story and another merely a good? The only answer that’s ever satisfied me is that the great stories are those that stick to me. Great stories cling to me like a spider’s web. Even long after I have finished the final paragraph and set it aside, my mind wanders back to it, again and again. Great stories, like “London Fog,” fill an aching in me that I didn't even know I needed filled.