‘This story came to me and entered my soul. It did not need a key or an invite, for it already belonged. It walked in, shook my foundation and set my heart on fire. We danced around the flames and with every twirl, I grabbed a few words until I was burnt to ashes.’ Tishtar runs a small legal practice in Melbourne where he has a new client, Habiba, who seeks to bring her orphan nieces to Australia from war-torn Somalia. He is also a migrant, having left the civil unrest in Iran to find a new life in a new country.
As Tishtar becomes consumed with Habiba’s tales of war-torn Somalia, his own childhood memories return and he reflects on the time he spent at his grandmother’s house to escape the atrocitities that unravelled post the Islamic Revolution. While at his grandmother’s house he comes to know Gretel, another lost soul who has experienced a community torn apart by division. Tishtar embarks on a journey in search of peace – for Habiba, for Gretel, for himself. Spanning continents and centuries, Forty Nights is a tale of the ongoing effects of dispossession and dislocation – a struggle humankind has faced long into its past. Ultimately it is the story of finding home, wherever that might be.
"Last night I dreamed that the angels knocked on the cellar’s door. They made the human clay and sipped on wine. The heavens could not bear the burden of the trusted gift. My wandering soul was chosen to fulfil the task."
Tishtar is an Iranian immigrant living in Melbourne, Australia. He works as an immigration lawyer and begins work on a particularly heartbreaking case, Habiba who works downstairs from his office is trying to get her Somalian nieces to Australia. He is also haunted by a woman from the past, Gretel, and we are transported across centuries and continents to see the life of the relocated and dispossessed.
What I liked:
The historical aspect - we are transported to Iran in the 1980s, Visby in the 14th century, and to Africa in modern day. The horrors faced by the Iranians by not only their devout Muslim government but by the western supported invaders from Iraq, is harrowing to say the least. The Scandinavian element was an interesting side plot, bringing in the idea that refugeeism has always been in existence. And the sisters escaping Somalia is a reminder that humans still face the terrors of corrupt nationhood.
What I didn't like:
The magical realism. I literally did not understand the ending. I don't want to post spoilers but that ending just went whoosh over my head. I think if this component was done differently this would have been a book I liked more. I need someone to discuss this with in real life!
I think the execution needs a little working on and there were a couple of inconsistencies in the narrative that jumped out at me.
Ultimately, this book gives us a glimpse into the complex and often inhumane bureaucratic systems that refugees must jump through to gain refuge in Australia (likely a hard process in most countries I imagine). It made me want to learn more about the history of nations outside the western world. It makes me want to read more refugee stories and actually investigate what our process in NZ looks like. So while this book didn't completely hit the mark for me, it has created a direction for me to follow.
"I imagine historical records related to Iran collecting dust on the shelves of libraries and in damp, dark historical archives. We are just like actors; we stand on stage and okay our roles and then, before we know it, the curtains come down. When they rise again there is a whole new cast of characters, and we are forgotten."
I received this book from the publisher for an honest review.
Hard to believe that this is a debut novel. The author is a gifted writer. It did have the authentic feel of a memoir with some ghostly dreamlike sequences. I was completely captured by the story and I felt like I grew to know all the characters. A really authentic feel of a migrants experience both before and after migrating away from violently troubled war-torn countries manly in Iran and touched on in Somalia. Not to mention the trouble that it takes to escape to a more peaceful country. I do feel like I missed something with the title. I kept confusing the title with 1001 Nights and (Ali baba and) The Forty Thieves (A tale that was added to 1001 Nights well after it was written). I did enjoy the narration, however, the narrator had a strong Australian accent which I suspect the Iranian main character wouldn't. I enjoyed the narration despite that inconsistency.
I was lucky enough to receive a proof copy of 'Forty Nights' by Pirooz Jafari from Ultimo Press
First of all, the writing in this book is beautiful - visually rich and poetic. I felt immersed in Tishtar's world, from his daily life in Melbourne to the wonders of his childhood in Iran to the horrors he saw during its invasion. Present and past are seamlessly woven throughout this story that explores migration and the feeling of home
'Forty Nights' is a confronting read in many ways - the hardships those seeking asylum in Australia face and the discussing the impact of war to name a few. It reminded me a little of Trent Dalton's work, with the hard-hitting descriptions of things like war atrocities mixed with the magic-realism of Greta, a character Tishtar is constantly searching for who disappears as silently as she appears
Stunning writing and a poignant read - thank you to Ultimo Press for allowing me the privilege of reading this story, and a huge congratulations to Pirooz Jafari for writing such a powerful book 💕
Forty Nights by Pirooz Jafari is an incredibly rich and vibrant novel focussed on migrants to Australia and their ties to home. In it we meet Tishtar who is running a small legal business in Melbourne. As a migrant himself, Tishtar often helps others to bring family members to Australia. His new client is Habiba who is desperate to bring her now orphaned nieces to Australia from Somalia. Tishtar becomes consumed in his quest to help her and her nieces.
Over the book we learn more about Tishtar’s past life with stories told during his childhood in Tehran in the late seventies, through the Iranian revolution and the unrest that followed. We learn about his family, his culture, the changes in society felt with a change in political regime. During these flashbacks we also learn how he meets Gretel, a woman who has also experienced unrest and a loss of family connection.
This book definitely gave me a history lesson on the Iranian revolution which I knew nothing about. I found the commentary on how cultures are changed over time as countries are invaded and religions are influenced fascinating if a little depressing. It was also an uncomfortable read when it came to descriptions of the refugee experience.
I love reading about other cultures and the rituals families carry out and especially how key the food is to the celebrations. Here descriptions of food were so vibrant they made me hungry! There were memories of Yalda night celebrations which in Persian culture is a celebration of the winter solstice which I found touching.
The story was engaging but the one area I felt it fell down was the inclusion of Gretel’s story which felt disjointed to me. Her character brings in an unnecessary magical realism element to the story. That’s two books in a row where I felt this way I promise I actually adore magical realism! But in this case I didn’t feel it was needed or made sense to the story. There was much to enjoy with this book – the writing and the cultural stories were lovely. I just didn’t fall completely in love with it.
I couldn’t finish this book. I wanted to but for me it just wasn’t working on so many levels and instead of being swept into a story with characters who are caught in life changing events beyond their control that I could care about. I felt like I as the reader was being educated, there was a constant undertone of assumption that the reader is ignorant and the writer was going to tell the reader in what they need to know about Persia, religion and refugees. (If you want to know about Persia I highly recommend reading Persepolis). The real problem for me is that a story first and foremost has to work as a story with subtlety and nuance and a reader has to be treated with respect. I didn't like the one sidedness of this book. For example we are told that refugees have to have a date of birth and sometimes don't so often choose 1 January and this is given as a sample by the writer of an unfair expectation on the refugee they will assimilate into the new country. The author writes 'so people are like cars - we give them a number plate? Is this the start of the "assimilation" for refugees. To fit into the system they must have a date of birth.' There is no other side to this presented. No suggestion that the new country has a right to know the age of a refugee or that when you move to a new country you should assimilate to some degree with that countries culture and norms. There is the constant complaint that the new country is hard and this complaining permeates the book and detracts from what could have been a good story.
I'm in two minds about this book, and honestly it probably doesn't deserve such a low review. But it got to the point where I was dreading reading and nearly dnf, so here we are.
The recounts of life in modern Somalia and Melbourne's west very informative about the refugee experience and both horrific and fun to read. But the little attempts to "educate" the reader were really off-putting and a bit ham-fisted. Probably my (least) favourite line in the book is something along the lines of "and I can't help but draw comparisons between the suffering migrants face, and how Aboriginal people must feel navigating white Australia" without any explanation of character might have felt this or follow up with any Aboriginal characters/content.
I also really disliked how Jafari wrote women, particularly Gretal. We never learn anything about what she thinks or feels about anything going on in her life. Even when she finally gets together with her true love, all we hear is "I wanted to let him enter me" (eww) and then a detailed depiction of how HE felt about it all. Humans shouldn't be reduced to plot points like that imo. Then again, we didn't learn very much about how the protagonist feels about anything either, and lots of his choices don't really make sense.
I didn't feel that any of the characters (except Habiba and her husband, and Madar) were particularly sympathetic, mostly because we don't learn about their motivations or internal world and their behaviour seems mostly random.
I wish more was done to integrate the Gotland arc into the story, but I didn't mind the ending. I liked how the author tried to weave the themes of personal stories, and violence and disruption through the different settings, but this book could be a slog at times.
This was a really beautiful book with parallel plot lines and universal experiences that kept me engaged throughout. Jafari’s writing was the perfect balance between informative and accessible, and I will definitely follow the rest of his work and career. However, the ending of Forty Nights was incredibly abrupt and out of place with the rest of the novel. I was so taken back by how flat and irrelevant it was that my rating significantly dropped. A solid read nevertheless.
'The longer you live in your new country, the more the thread stretches, until finally it breaks,” Tishtar reflects. “When you visit your old home you realise that you don’t belong there anymore.'
A haunting story that spans centuries and continents, weaving together themes of dispossession, dislocation, migration, war and the enduring power of love.
a book about displacement, refugees, longing for home. what is home, where is home. and then there are the ghosts who follow us home. wonderfully written , set in 3 continets, 3 cultures & 3 time zones. never dull. beautifully narrated. audiobook
I'm a bit torn on this review - I liked the book, but found the magical character of Gretel simply interfered with the story (maybe I'm missing some deeper meaning there?). And having seen the author interviewed as part of MWF, I realise the parts set in Iran & to some extent Australia are almost biography - this may explain why the central character felt a bit weak & two dimensional (a bit hard for an author to admit all their faults in a novel?)
Longlisted for the Miles Franklin Literary Prize 2023
Forty Nights is the story of Tishtar who runs a small legal practice in Melbourne where he has a new client, Habiba, who seeks to bring her orphan nieces to Australia from war-torn Somalia. He is also a migrant, having left the civil unrest in Iran to find a new life in a new country.
As Tishtar becomes consumed with Habiba’s tales of war-torn Somalia, his own childhood memories return and he reflects on the time he spent at his grandmother’s house to escape the atrocities that unravelled post the Islamic Revolution. While at his grandmother’s house he comes to know Gretel, another lost soul who has experienced a community torn apart by division. Tishtar embarks on a journey in search of peace – for Habiba, for Gretel, for himself.
Spanning continents and centuries, Forty Nights is a tale of the ongoing effects of dispossession and dislocation – a struggle humankind has faced long into its past. Ultimately it is the story of finding home, wherever that might be.
This was a gently told story taking us on a journey from medieval Gotland (Sweden) to 1950’s Iran to current day Somalia and Australia. I enjoyed the literary time travel and learning more about the Iranian revolution in the late 1970s and learning for the first time about the Battle of Visby fought in the town of Visby in the Swedish island of Gotland in the 1300s. It was also a heart wrenching eye-opener learning about Somalian refugees in Dadaab refugee camp (Africa’s largest refugee camp). The parallels drawn between these occurrences in history and in the different, varied parts of the world is what forms the heart of the story.
Interestingly, Tishtar, the protagonist arrives in Australia to study at the University of Wollongong (my alma mater) and it was a walk down memory lane for me to read about the familiar places on campus and in the city of Wollongong.
Pirooz Jafari has created a poetic world in his debut novel and I invite you to embark on this journey with me.
I heard about this book in an episode of Published or Not at 3CR (3cr.org.au/publishedornot/episode/pir...) and borrowed it from the library but didn't have time to finish it.
The author is an Iranian refugee who came to Australia and became a lawyer. The book is both advocacy for refugees and a nostalgic representation of the home and family left behind.
For readers who've kept up, that is, read widely from books by about refugees and migrants, Forty Nights strays into being too overtly educational. But we know that very many Australians have not kept up (and we know this because they would not use their vote to support Australia's treatment of refugees if they knew more about it.) So the 'educational' aspects of this book are valuable.
For readers who'd like to try some of the tempting dishes described in the book, I recommend Pomegranates and Roses, My Persian Family Recipes, by Ariana Bundy.
For fiction which explains the reasons why people flee Iran, I suggest The Colonel, by Mahmoud Dowlatabadi, translated by Tom Patterdale and The Enlightenment of the Greengage Tree, by Shokoofeh Azar, translated by Adrien Kijek.
There is a lot packed into this reflective novel: three separate time narratives, storylines which are all too real and those shrouded in mysticism. Jafari brings three wars into his narrative in an attempt I think, to show how universal war and trauma are. The Western Melbourne/Outer Geelong scenes sing here, though, the briefly but beautifully sketched portrait of a community bound by hope and love and fuelled by sadness. This was one of the heartachingly real portrayals of the modern refugee experience: Zoom calls and sexual assault, abductions and DNA tests, the mundanity of evictions amid the ever-present possibility of annihilation. We ask refugees to show their stories in a particular way - not just culturally but legally. We expect helplessness, poverty and, increasingly, a disconnected experience that is simply a relic of an earlier era. Although not at all centred on this, Jafari's book shows the full fury of the randomness of who gets to live in a peaceful society and who does not, who *belongs* and who doesn't.
Este libro narra tres historias interconectadas que tienen en común el efecto de los conflictos que marcan la vida de personas refugiadas. La historia de Tishtar, un abogado que vive en Australia y debió salir de Irán tras los cambios por la Revolución Islámica. Habiba, una mujer de Somalia que quiere llevar a sus sobrinas de un campo de refugiados a Australia. Y Gretel, un alma perdida que Tishtar ve desde niño, y que le cuenta cómo la división afectó a su familia en Suecia.
Lo que me gustó: Como una persona que ha trabajado por años con refugiados, me pareció que el libro está muy bien hecho. Es interesante cómo el autor muestra procesos de diferentes épocas y continentes, así como los puntos en común (que son básicamente la violencia gratuita contra los civiles, la destrucción de familias, y la perseverancia de los refugiados). Me parece un libro agradable, pero también emotivo.
Lo que no me gustó: No entiendo muy bien el rol de Gretel en la historia de Tishtar. La interacción entre ambos personajes se me hizo lo menos interesante.
🏡 If you are interested in the exploration of the meaning of family, and the meaning of home especially for those who have been persecuted or displaced this book will be for you. 💡 It is also a poignant reminder that violence and persecution has been occurring for centuries, and the notion of seeking "refuge" is not new, and has not only impacted people from places like the Middle East or Africa (which is an idea that seems to permeate many Australians' understanding of refugees and asylum seekers...) 💫 If you enjoy a splattering of magical realism, and/or stories that cross centuries, you will love this. 📖 And, importantly, this novel is full of beautifully written observations and details, but is also very readable, it's not bogged down in unnecessary language and despite some serious themes and occasional descriptions of violence, it is very easy to get through!
Gave up a third into the book. Every character comes off extremely wooden -- like exposition robots. Additionally, the narrator doesn't feel like a fleshed-out character but rather a mouthpiece for the author. There is very little sense of time/place or narrative drive; things just seem to happen. The three narratives felt unrelated as well as lacking substance.
I loved the design of the book; good job Ultimo Press. It was a shame the novel didn't live up to the cover.
A fascinating book giving insight into the experiences of migrant stories, those who come to study and those who are using the refugee visas to bring family to Australia. The story give an understanding of life in countries affected by war, take over by violent regimes and civil unrest. Part of the story involves a thread that initially was confusing, but given the Persian heritage of the author matches another book I have read by a migrant to this country and I think may be more common in their literature. An Iranian immigration agent is helping someone he knows try to bring their orphaned nieces to Australia. Through the book his past experiences are revealed as are some of the experiences of the nieces from Somalia. The third thread is in the past and present, and involves an area in Europe.
An ambitious weaving of three stories and time lines. The writing is a little clunky but forgivable.
The Australian section, the struggle of refugees stuck in camps and the legal hurdles they face is eye opening.
Life in Iran and descriptions of family life is enjoyable. However, I strongly disagree with the author that years under Shah's dictatorship (there was nothing about the brutality of his secret police, Savak, and the press censorship) was a period of enlightenment in Iran.
I was initially intrigued but grew increasingly baffled by the ghost and the medieval chapters.
Loved reading this book by a local author. I didn't know much about Iran in the 70s and 80s, and so it was a huge learning experience reading about how things changed for so many people. Humans are cruel, what we forget in our daily lives is that humans continue to be cruel, and things can change any moment. Bad things may happen somewhere far away, but the power of story is that the reader gets a glimpse into that place and it's people. I thank the author for sharing his pain, it is not an easy feat but it opens doors and ignorant eyes.
The book is irritating on many levels. The tone of the narrator is preachy, with little generosity to the country that gives sanctuary from tyranny. In his universe bureaucracy is only cold and unremitting; while Australians are uniformly racist and philistine, too dim-witted too appreciate superior Persian culture.
Reading this story, that centers Persian winter traditions, during an Aussie Christmas, lent this powerful story more context. Beautifully and simply written, this conveyed so much feeling. Should be read by everyone, Australians in particular, to extend much needed understanding to the journey so many have made before they reach our shores.
i’m so sad but this put me in the biggest reading slump of my life. look how long it took me to finish it. i have such a bad habit of continuing a book i don’t even like just because i want the satisfaction of finishing it but i’ve wasted SM TIME. the story was interesting, writing was good, but it just dragged like omfg.
I wanted to like this book and I wish I could have finished it, but I wasn't particularly swept away. There was rich storytelling but it was slow and I didn't feel any real emotional connection to the characters.
Well written and enjoyed the first 3/4 of it but languished a bit at the end as the story meandered and felt a bit self indulgent? In any case not that interesting for me at the end. Thoroughly enjoyed the telling of life in Iran. Ultimately uneven for me, but glad I read it!
more: islamic revolution, factual recounting, doing good for a community less: medieval sweden, i wonder if [common sense] means [common sense], "i was dreaming"
A beautifully written complex tale of love, loss, freedom, and family. Jafari weaves a story with parallels to the writing of Khaled Hosseini that is heart-breaking and uplifting at once.
An incredibly moving and heartbreaking novel that is imbued with such compassion and love it took my breath away. I will be thinking about this book for a long time.