Shahrnush Parsipur, a renowned Iranian writer, died this summer at the age of 80. In Iran her fiction was considered subversive, so much so that she was imprisoned repeatedly (one time for nearly five years) by both the Shah and the Islamic Republic. This year, this novel, Women Without Men, was published for the first time in the UK and was long listed for the Booker Prize. Her prison memoir will be published in 2027.
“Women Without Men” is set in Tehran during the 1953 coup d’stat. It links the stories of five women who seek refuge from patriarchal oppression in a garden. However, before they “find” the garden, their varied lives from upper class to prostitute to rural peasant demonstrate the hypocrisy and oppression toward women in Iran. This novel, like several other Iranian novels I have read, contains elements of magical realism, e.g. mind reading and the ability to fly. Much of the novel also contains elements of satire. I found myself laughing .
With the exception of a somewhat eccentric gardener, the men in the novel are not portrayed in a very favorable light. For example, one 40 year old man insists on marrying a much younger woman because he thinks she must be a virgin and chaste and rejects an older woman who actually cares for him. The real virgin is the older woman, not the one he marries.
Although the novel focuses on Iranian society, many of the themes apply worldwide wherever there are issues of class, women’s rights, oppression of the poor, etc.
Several weeks ago I wrote a post about young people and asked if the problems they are having are global. It is this novel which caused me to ask that question. The author lives in Gran Canario, the largest of the Canary Islands which is the setting of this novel. The novel is written in first person from the viewpoint of Meryem, a twenty-five year old young woman who at the beginning of the novel is still living with her parents because she cannot afford a place of her own. She has a college degree and speaks multiple languages but cannot find a good job even close to what she thought she would be doing at twenty-five when she was younger. She is unhappy and disappointed.
She acquires an internship with Supersaurio, the largest super market chain in the Canary Islands. She finds the work boring and tedious. She cannot stand her boss, a woman 20 or so years older, a woman who will not even look at Meryem when she is talking to her and who never bothers to learn to pronounce Meryem’s name correctly even though Meryem explains repeatedly. Nevertheless, Meryem endures, produces excellent work and never complains–at least not at work. However, as she informs the reader endlessly, she hates her job, feels her colleagues look down on her, and nothing is going ok. To pass time she writes fiction about her work mates, tries to find a nice guy to date, and because she needs the money, keeps working.
As the novel progresses, her life does sort of get better and she adjusts sort of, but you have to read it to find out.
I kept thinking the same thing over and over–how is her life different from that of a lot of young people in the US? Meryem seems to think it is because of where she lives at least in part and because the island is dependent on Spain and tourism, but are these the real causes?? Do a lot of young people in Europe and other places in the world feel as she does, struggle to “make it”?
This novel narrates the lives of two women who became best friends in elementary school in Tehran in the 1950s. One, Elaheh, who has lived in luxury until the death of her father forces her and her mother to move to a poor part of the city. Two, Homa, a rambunctious seven year old who lives nearby. Elaheh’s mother has no choice but to enroll her in the nearby public school where they meet and become best friends against the objection of Elaheh’s mother who thinks the people there are tacky and beneath her. Because Elaheh’s (Ellie) prefers to spend time at Homa’s house where there is an entire family–father, mother, children, who are warm and loving, her mother does various things to keep her from Homa’s family. It does not work and Homa’s mother teaches Ellie how to cook and they treat her as one of the own.
Their happy friendship is disrupted when Ellie’s mother marries her former husband’s brother and they move back to the wealthy part of town and Ellie is enrolled in one of the best schools in Tehran. Ellie works hard at her studies and becoming popular and succeeds. She is very embarrassed when Homa gets a scholarship to this school and shows up. Nevertheless, they reestablish their friendship and everything seems to go well until political turmoil occurs. They finish high school and enroll in the University of Tehran. Then betrayal and disaster ensues.
I could not stop reading because of the story. For those who know little of Iranian history in the last 100 years, through the events in the novel, the reader not only learns how difficult life can be in Iran but also a lot of recent Iranian history. It reveals the determination of Iranians to live the best they can regardless of the circumstances and how life can change instantly because of someone’s misguided words. After I finished this novel, I went to the library and requested Kamali’s other two novels.
The Booker Prize winner from decades ago, I decided to reread it (I read it when it was first published) after reading the author’s recent memoir. It is1969 in the southern Indian state of Kerala where a substantial proportion of the population belong to the Syrian Christian church. Does this keep them from adhering to the Indian caste system? No. Caste, wealth, social status, property–they all still matter.
The main characters are one family: Ammu and her twin children who love the wrong man according to their society, the blind grandmother who plays Handel on her violin, their uncle who was a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford and married and then divorced an English woman, their child, and an ex-nun grandaunt who is not a nice person and cannot get over her love for a priest. And then there are their servants and the man, an Untouchable, who is the brilliant carpenter, mechanic, fixer of everything. When the half English child and her mother come to visit after her new husband’s untimely death, everything changes in a day.
Even though written decades ago, the novel is definitely worth the read. Although the details and cultural representations are true to one particular area of India and its culture, the novel’s themes ring true for all cultures and countries, themes of Love, Joy, Hate, Prejudice, Hope.
Note: I also decided to research how much the caste system has changed life in the decades since it was written. In urban areas with new laws there is more leniency regarding rights especially for work and education, but people still usually marry those from the same caste. Rural areas have not changed much to the point that many villages still have a specific area where the Dalits (Untouchables) have to live.
This is a murder mystery set in Lafayette, Louisiana. The main character is an older Black lady who spends Sunday afternoons after church at the local coffee shop helping gamblers with their sports betting. While there, she learns that her best friend, a nun, has been found dead in her apartment. The police insist it is a suicide, but Glory knows that cannot be and sets out to find out what really occurred and who the murderer is. Her daughter, a classy NYC attorney, is visiting. She is very reluctant to join her mother’s quest but eventually agrees to help. Together they begin to investigate. After Glory is bitten by a pit bull under scary circumstances. receives a package full of bees which sting her and send her to the hospital, and other unexpected occurrences, Glory’s daughter realizes her mother may be correct about this being a murder, not a suicide. Their investigation leads them to the trailer house of a priestess, the grounds of a notorious drug dealer, etc.
Glory has grown up during segregation and is used to being overlooked and dismissed. Although she is in many ways a very traditional woman with traditional values, she is determined to do right by her friend. This leads her to places she would never n normally go and encounter people she would normally avoid.
I rarely read murder mysteries but since this is a book in a book club to which I belong, I read it anyway. It was an enjoyable read, sometimes funny, and certainly a glimpse into bayou culture about which I know little. I think there is a sequel so might look for it since I enjoyed Glory’s spunk and determination.
As I mentioned in a previous post, his books on delights were mentioned to me by two different people in two totally different settings so I decided to stay sane in all the seriousness of my life, reading something lighter might be a good thing to do. I guess I was thinking delights like flowers, food, etc. but this is more like a series of short essays about life all written in the span of one year–his gardening, experiences strolling around his neighborhood and favorite coffee shops, food, his parents, his wife, some personal history, his experience as a college professor, children. However, he also addresses serious issues–his meeting a homeless veteran just out from a stint in a mental facility and how he was compelled to help out after first driving off, racism he has experienced, his issues with the government and social media, family death, and life in general. And above all, what it means to him to identify as a poet.
As a person who works with high school students mostly non-white, many of whom have family members who are undocumented, I worry and need to find daily delights to stay sane. I decided to make a list of some of the past week’s delights:
-afternoons 70 degrees, sunny, no wind
-hummingbirds sipping nectar from both flowers and the two feeders
-singing a song the lyrics of which come from a poem by Langston Hughes where he dreams a world with no racism
-sitting on the back patio, listening to birdsong while I read a book about delights
-learning that all the rains have eliminated drought in California
-appreciating all the colors of the flowers blooming in my yard
Neftali Ricardo Reyes Basoalto, a country boy who grew up in a remote, rainy, forested area in southern Chile, an area called Araucania, an indigenous name, became Pablo Neruda, a name he created so he could publish poetry without his father’s knowledge. His father and mother, who died less than a month after his birth, originally came from the wine country of central Chile. His father became a conductor for a ballast train in this southern region. His descriptions of his childhood are of a shy boy who loved nature in all its forms and books. Later, he wrote letters to girls for his friends. Yet, he says he wrote his first poem when he had barely learned to read. Overcome with emotion, he wrote a poem to his stepmother, the only mother he knew. When he showed it to his father, his father asked to know what he had copied it from.
Later, he moves to Santiago to attend university, always poor, always wearing black, always carrying books. He joins a Student Federation and becomes acquainted with other young poets. He writes, “I saw a refuge in poetry with the intensity of someone timid.” After he struggled paying for the printing of his first book, he wrote, “…the writer’s task…must be a personal effort for the benefit of all.”
He wins a literary prize at school, his books are popular, and he finds himself acquiring a job at a Chilean consul in Rangoon but to get there he and a friend end up in France and Portugal, then Japan, then Singapore, before finally arriving at his destination. Thus, began his life as a consul official in places all over the world, including Spain just before and at the beginning of Franco’s rise to power.
After witnessing so much poverty, so many conflicts benefiting the rich, he becomes an avid supporter of the Chilean Communist Party–a form of communism unlike what most think of when they think of communism. The communism he and his friends support includes working on behalf of the poor, the common laborer, the disenfranchised against the wealthy elite who controlled most Latin American countries during his lifetime and in many cases still do.
He states, “I want to live in a world where beings are only human with no other title but that, without worrying their heads about rules, a word, a label…I want the great majority, the only majority, everyone, to be able to speak out, read, listen, thrive…I have taken a road because I believe that road leads us all to a lasting brotherhood…an inexhaustible goodness…”
Later, he chose to live at Isla Negra, a sort of hideout especially in winter where he could write. Then he returned to Chile. He helped his friend Salvatore Allende campaign for the presidency of Chile. After Allende became president, he appointed Neruda to be ambassador to France. In 1971, Neruda won the Nobel Prize. In 1972, the US blockaded Chile and Neruda returned and completed the final edit of his memoirs. He was welcomed back with a ceremony at the National Stadium in Santiago with a huge crowd in attendance. In 1973, a military coup, supported by the US, overturned the government and assassinated Allende. Less than one month later, Neruda died. Shortly thereafter, news spread worldwide that his two houses in different parts of Chile had been ransacked and vandalized by the new government and its forces.
Recently, at a party I attended, someone claimed young people these days are lazy, don’t want to work, feel entitled. Sometimes I can keep my mouth shut, just listen, and disagree inside. Not this time. When I hear comments like this about young people, comments with which I vehemently disagree whether it is in person or on social media, I feel compelled to speak up.
During at least half the year, I spend one day a week at an inner city high school. Granted the students I work with are high achieving, students who are the opposite of lazy, some almost to the extreme. When I mentioned this, the person said, “Well this is because they are recent immigrants.” In most of these cases at this school, that is true. Then I explained that I had taught more than 20 years at two Title I high schools where nearly no one was a recent immigrant. Of course, like throughout history, there are some lazy young people. That, however, does not describe the majority. I’ve had homeless students who took the hardest dual credit classes and prevailed. I’ve had students who spent extra time at school because it was safer than being home. I’ve had students whose parents were in jail or drug addicts but still made it to school, did the required work, and graduated. I’ve had students struggling with mental health issues but no matter what managed to do the work required.
Reasons to be lazy abound. Reasons to feel hopeless about the future abound. Look at the present economy, look at the wage cap between the rich and poor, look at how many struggle to find a decent job. Young people are aware of all this, acutely aware. Yet most do the work required and press on no matter what.
writingontherim 