« La Promessa », un bar à cocktails des années 1970 est sur le point de rouvrir au coeur de Téhéran. Pas comme le lieu glamour qu'il fut un temps mais comme un vague showroom tourné vers l'art, la mode et les réceptions “corporate”, selon un mélange douteux de culture, de profit et de “branchitude”. Le narrateur, neveu de la mythique créatrice des lieux et aussi imbu de sa pseudo culture que plongé dans la cocaïne et le “name droppping”, est chargé de superviser sa réouverture. Il se retrouve vite mêlé à un maelström incontrôlable où grands manitous de l'art contemporain, mollahs enturbannés, gouvernements étrangers, organisations terroristes, “socialites” internationaux et même les stars du rock n'roll jouent leur propre partition mais sur des tempi différents.
It took me months to read this 209 page book; every chapter was a struggle, reading scores of adjectives and (up-to-date Fashion, Designer, and Brand Name) proper nouns. This book was recommended by a friend who knows a thing or two about Iran, and suggested this book, adding "It's important to note that this book is written by an Iranian for a Western audience." With that in mind I am slightly forgiving on the infinitesimal annotation of the author's product familiarity; I took on the perspective that he was trying to say, as a writer for many contemporary art magazines//curator//co-founder-of-Iranian-feminist-magazine//educator-at-Bard-in-NY//etc, "Hey guys, your concept of the world around you is extremely warped by, among other things, peer pressure and media overstimulation. I am going to flaunt my elitist prowess several tiers above your head to place you into an inferior position; perhaps then you may listen?" Had he cut out all that obnoxious and overstimulating material, the book would be less than half its length.
Read at your own risk, but that's what I take from it.
abbastanza divertente e molto pop, il lato positivo è che è ambientato a Teheran, se fosse ambientato a Milano sarebbe tutta una altra cosa e sarebbe praticamente illeggibile. Miracoli della geografia.
Not very good. Zolghadr is obviously clever and worldly but he has no skill as a writer of fiction judging on the basis of this novel. I only really read this to broaden my fictional horizons by reading a work of contemporary Iranian fiction but I was disappointed.
I couldn't finish it. I found the author's "style" aggravating. One could call it 'observant,' as he focussed mainly on describing the characters' accoutrements and surroundings. There was, however, little-to-no character development and not much of a plot, while the structure seemed highly distracted. Whenever the main character began to delve deeper into his thoughts or feelings, or even into a topic, the story would veer away to something else entirely, which it only dealt with superficially. A recurring character like his great aunt Zsa Zsa remains an enigma, because the author does not flesh her out, except to list her wild adventures. Much of the book appears to me to be lists of observations strung together. I would say I was disappointed, if the book had engaged me on any level emotionally, but since it didn't, well....