Introduction to Duncan Whitelaw Marsh

In the opening passages of "The Eye," the narrator embarks on a journey to unveil the enigmatic life of Duncan Whitelaw Marsh, an expatriate hailing from Vancouver, Canada. Marsh's tale unfolds in Tangier, Morocco—a place the narrator himself calls home, despite Marsh's demise occurring a decade or so in the past. During the bustling 1950s and 60s, Tangier lured Westerners with its exotic allure and unrestrained freedoms, offering a sanctuary for indulgences deemed scandalous elsewhere. The city was a thrifty haven where one could easily procure illicit substances. Before Morocco's liberation in 1956, it stood as a mosaic of French and Spanish protectorates alongside the cosmopolitan International Zone of Tangier. Predominantly Arab or Berber, the Moroccan populace follows the tenets of Islam.

Unraveling Marsh's Myth

The narrator confesses to having never laid eyes on Marsh himself; instead, whispers of his life are woven through the fabric of expat gatherings and the colorful tapestry of local legends. It was said that Marsh had settled into a fully furnished abode and employed a young Moroccan lad as his guardian through the night. After dismissing the household’s original cook and gardener, Marsh hired his own staff, only to fall prey to a stomach ailment shortly thereafter. He sought treatment in London but, upon his return, the malady ultimately claimed him. Speculation abounded, with many attributing his demise to the slow venom of betrayal by his own staff. Yet, the narrator finds himself captivated by peculiar markings discovered on the soles of Marsh's feet and tales of a mysterious document granting the watchman a stipend for the duration of Marsh's life.

The Curious Case of Larbi

Five years prior, the narrator learned of the watchman, Larbi, who had since embraced a new role as a waiter in a local eatery. Intrigued, the narrator seeks Larbi out, persuading him to reveal the enigmatic paper Marsh entrusted to him. It is a simple note, signed by Marsh, promising Larbi a monthly bounty of a hundred pounds. With his interest ignited, the narrator arranges a rendezvous at Marsh’s former, now deserted, residence.

Secrets of the Deserted House

The narrator and Larbi meet at the once-vibrant house, now watched over by a man clad in a traditional djellaba, a hooded cloak that embodies Moroccan heritage. There, Larbi unfolds Marsh's tale to an impassive narrator. Marsh, forever vexed by clamor, lamented the boisterousness of his cook’s daughter. In a bid to silence her, he snuck up behind her, his brow furrowed with such intensity that she cried out. That very night, the girl was struck by an illness, rendering her unable to walk. Believing Marsh had cast an evil spell—"the eye"—upon her, Meriam, the girl's mother, sought the aid of a fqih, a revered holy man and sorcerer. In a solemn ceremony, the fqih inscribed mystical symbols upon paper before the child. Soon after, Marsh was dragged from his sickbed by Meriam's kin, who held him over a well, etching these symbols into his feet so that his blood would taint the water. When asked if he perceives any link between these signs and Marsh's untimely end, Larbi's demeanor remains unfathomable, offering only the cryptic words, "He died because his hour had come." Contemplating the delicate interplay between crime and intent, the narrator concludes his account, pondering the shadows between action and purpose.