A Persian Requiem (thoughts)

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I came across A Persian Requiem by Simin Daneshvar (originally published in English under the title Savushun) in my library catalogue when I was looking up something else. As I already mentioned, as soon as I saw that it was a translation (and thus probably written by an Iranian) and that the author was born in 1921, I wanted to read it! I was hoping it would evoke the feeling of an earlier Iran (it’s set during the early 40s), and it completely did. From the first page, I was right there in Shiraz with Zari, and I experienced her ups and downs as my own. There isn’t any deliberate sharing on Daneshvar’s part, as if this was written with a foreign audience in mind. Instead, it simply matter-of-factly references aspects of Iranian life (it seems like there were still countryside estates with ‘peasants’ even then), which helps with the insider feeling. She creates the setting so well that despite my lack of background knowledge of Iran before, say, the 1960s I never felt lost. The story at the book’s heart is universal, and Zari and the people in her world are so well drawn that they were easy to identify with.

The book, especially in the beginning, has a comedy of manners flavour, with hints of Austen. It’s on a bit grander of a scale (with the intrigues of war intruding more and more frequently as the story progresses) and definitely darker in tone, but some of the characters, especially one particular manipulative older woman and a the most powerful family in town, seemed cousins to characters you might find in Austen’s world. And since the book is told form Zari’s point of view, it is primarily domestic. She must navigate through those difficult social obligations, and the tension between her love of her husband and children and her need to keep others appeased in order to keep her family safe was well-drawn. In contrast to Zari, her husband is more idealistic (in the ‘committed to an ideal’ sense): he believes in Justice regardless of the consequences to himself. He’s out in the ‘larger’ world, swept up in the ‘great game’ being played in Iran at the time, which is another great difference compared to Zari’s more circumscribed sphere of influence.

Daneshvar’s treatment of all this is wonderfully subtle; Zari herself is perfectly content as a wife and mother (with a strong marriage), and the book isn’t driven by gender contrasts (although, as a feminist reader, it was obvious to me that Daneshvar is a feminist). Instead, there are so many aspects of Iranian life at that time that this is just one of them! There’s also the tension between the old ways and the new, hints of Western world manipulation (then being carried out by the British), and a lot of everyday life for a privileged Shiraz family. I was particularly interested in Zari’s visits to an asylum for women whose families have committed them there. The exploration of sanity v. insanity, and of the gender issues related to that, fit right in with a sudden curiosity I have for the topic! (I’m in the middle of Mad, Bad, and Sad right now.) And there’s such scope for a kind of quiet courage in Zari’s life, including her visits to the asylum (she also visits a prison): her willingness to leave her comfort zone for the sake of her beliefs, that echoes her husband’s actions. I haven’t even mentioned Zari as a mother! But it’s a big part of the book, and her relationship to her children (in particular her oldest son, who she had at a young age) was marvelously done. I accidentally returned the book to the library without copying out notable passages, which is the only reason I haven’t been sharing them. So you’ll just have to trust me that she’s a magnificent writer!

I’m sure A Persian Requiem could be the focus of some fantastic discussions in college, but it’s also a page-turning read: I had to know what would happen with Zari and her family. Isn’t that what we all want from our fiction? Daneshvar seems like a fascinating woman, and I wish she had written more fiction (or that more of her fiction had been translated!). The only other book I could turn up in English was a collection of her short stories, Daneshvar’s Playhouse, which I’m hoping I’ll be able to ILL. I’d highly recommend this one to a wide variety of readers; if you’re interested in other cultures, or women’s issues, or domestic-focused stories, or a WWII buff, or just delight in good prose, this should be a treat.

I really want to read more Iranian lit now! I read Women Without Men ages ago, and it blew me away as well. Any suggestions for where to go next?