A book review Part II

I'd been receiving the Powell's "Review-a-day" emails for less than a month and hadn't seen a single familiar name or title come through yet. This was exciting but I was starting to feel like a faker in the literary world.

I was being bombarded everyday by articles that made every work of fiction and non-fiction alike completely gripping. But why hadn't I heard of any of these great works? I read! I'm interested! I like books! "But oh"-a little voice would say-"if you were truly interested you would have heard about Mario Levio's Is God a Mathematician? and Yiyun Li's The Vagrants." It was becoming easy to doubt my interest in books. I hadn't heard of any, definitely not read any, didn't own any, and hadn't even read any works by any of the authors.

And so, it was with a growing despair that on March 9th I received a review about an author I had read! I was excited. I like this author. I thoroughly enjoyed her previous book, plus this is a new release; I could pick up a first edition possibly. I'm going on Spring Break trips soon where I know there will be English bookstores. I could actually get it! My excitement had grown quite out of proportion before I even started reading the review, but for me it was more than just a book. It was the whole experience, the passing of one mildly interested in books to one pursuing books with intent and desire.

The review was about Azar Nafisi's Things I've Been Silent About: Memories and I was able to pick it up in Amsterdam. I first became familiar with Mrs. Nafisi a few years ago when I read Reading Lolita In Tehran. This memoir is an excellent story and historical and social commentary about life in Tehran, Iran. I had never before had much interest or concern about this part of the world but the book was a fascinating journey through regime changes, and a historical period that I have only a vague cursory knowledge of. Azar Nafisi was a professor of western literature at the University of Tehran during the 1970s and had a first hand account of the social and religious uprising and changes that drastically affected the country. She seamlessly wove her experiences of literature in with her life at the time and created a brilliant, captivating narrative.

With enthusiasm, I purchased her new book, ignoring the obvious question about how good a second memoir could possibly be. The book itself is nice. Not beautiful, but pleasing. The dust jacket has a nice gloss to it, the front has a very intriguing picture of the author as a young lady and the back holds a collage of family pictures from different decades. This is what the back says:

I started making a list in my diary entitled "Things I Have Been Silent About." Under it I wrote: "Falling in Love in Tehran. Going to Parties in Tehran. Watching the Mars Brothers in Tehran. Reading Lolita in Tehran." I wrote about repressive laws and executions, about public and political betrayals, implicating myself and those close to me in ways I had never imagined.

But what she doesn't say is that she is going to complain about her mother for 300 pages. Now, I'm sure everyone can complain about their mothers just a little (not me, though. my mom is great!) but it got to the point where I had lost interest in the book. Nafisi vilifies her mother, Nezhat. She paints Nezhat as the wicked witch and wicked stepmother combined. Her mother is malicious, manipulative, and plain mean. Even when Nafisi tries to show her mother's tender side, Nezhat seems to have some ulterior selfish motive. But it wasn't the cruel mother that bothered me the most. It was Nezhat's complete denial of every criticism. According to Nafisi, her, her brother, and her father could do no right while Nezhat could do no wrong in her own mind. The book became this constant battle of Nezhat's family and friends trying to control her and correct her when she could see no reason for such things.

There were high points throughout the book. Nafisi still weaves the history of Iran in and out. This time she retold ancient Persian stories and poems that her father used to tell her when she was a girl. These vignettes were wonderful, though it became difficult to process and remember the characters in these stories due to their very foreign names. In these scenes, and many others, her father almost become the hero of the book while her mother serves as the villain. Nafisi could not speak about her father in a more kind and loving way. She even confesses that her father pulled her into his conspiracy as he cheated on his wife with a few different women.

And yet, these moral failings were some of the most interesting parts of the story. Nafisi's father was, for a time, the mayor of Tehran. Her mother served in the Iranian parliament. Her family was secular and socially entrenched in Iranian life and to read about the affairs and liberal lifestyle came as a surprise to me and was a vivid juxtaposition to the regime that instituted mandatory head-to-toe coverings for women and legalized marriage for 9 year old girls.

Ultimately, the memories of her family just aren't that interesting. Many families have problems and quirks. Many families have members with terrible personal flaws. In many ways, these are the universal characteristics of family so she isn't able to offer any new insights on the issue. Instead, her experiences of moving between Tehran, England, and the US are the highlights of the book. Her perspective on freedom and history are unique and well worth listening to, given the political situations she has been through. They just aren't enough to redeem this memoir. If you want to read a truly interesting story pick up Reading Lolita In Tehran but don't worry about missing anything in Things I've Been Silent About. There are too many other possibilities to spend time on this one.