In a direct, frank, and intimate exploration of Iranian literature and society, scholar, teacher, and poet Fatemeh Keshavarz challenges popular perceptions of Iran as a society bereft of vitality and joy. Her fresh perspective on present-day Iran provides a rare insight into this rich culture alive with artistic expression but virtually unknown to most Americans.
Keshavarz introduces readers to two modern Iranian women writers whose strong and articulate voices belie the stereotypical perception of Iranian women as voiceless victims in a country of villains. She follows with a lively critique of the recent best-seller Reading Lolita in A Memoir in Books , which epitomizes what Keshavarz calls the "New Orientalist narrative," a view marred by stereotype and prejudice more often tied to current geopolitical conflicts than to an understanding of Iran.
Blending in firsthand glimpses of her own life--from childhood memories in 1960s Shiraz to her present life as a professor in America--Keshavarz paints a portrait of Iran depicting both cultural depth and intellectual complexity. With a scholar's expertise and a poet's hand, she helps amplify the powerful voices of contemporary Iranians and leads readers toward a deeper understanding of the country's past and present.
Fatemeh Keshavarz is an Iranian scholar, poet, and academic specializing in Persian studies and the works of Rumi. Since 2012, she has been the Roshan Chair of Persian Studies and Director of the Roshan Institute for Persian Studies at the University of Maryland. Previously, she taught for two decades at Washington University in St. Louis, where she chaired the Department of Asian and Near Eastern Languages and Literatures. Born and raised in Shiraz, Iran, Keshavarz earned her B.A. from Shiraz University before completing her M.A. and Ph.D. in Near Eastern Studies at the University of London. Her scholarship includes works such as Reading Mystical Lyric: The Case of Jalal al-Din Rumi (1998), Recite in the Name of the Red Rose (2006), and Jasmine and Stars: Reading More than Lolita in Tehran (2007), which critiques Western portrayals of Iranian society. She has also written poetry in both Persian and English. A vocal advocate for peace and cultural education, Keshavarz received the Hershel Walker 'Peace and Justice' Award in 2008 and spoke at the United Nations General Assembly on the role of cultural education in world peace. That same year, she was featured in the Peabody Award-winning NPR program Speaking of Faith: The Ecstatic Faith of Rumi.
4.5 stars Keshavarz wrote this as a response to Reading Lolita in Tehran (RLT) and I have read the two books together. She was concerned that Nafisi had misrepresented Iran and Iranian culture, but especially Iranian women. As Keshavarz says herself: “The greatest omission in the content of Nafisi’s book is that it overlooks the agency and presence of Iranian women in the social and intellectual domain. That is ironic particularly because the book’s main claim is to tell the untold story of women in post-revolutionary Iran. If Reading Lolita in Tehran is the only book you have read about Iran, you would not be able to imagine that vibrant Iranian women writers such as Shahrnush Parsipur, Simin Behbahani, and Simin Danishvar ever existed, let alone imagine that they wrote during the same period that Nafisi’s book covers. You would not guess that post-revolutionary Iranian cinema has women writers and directors as outspoken as Tahmineh Milani and Rakhshan Bani-Etemad, or that women activists such as the Peace Nobel Laureate Shirin Ebadi spoke and wrote about women and children’s rights during the same period. And these are only a few examples.” This is not a negative book. Keshavarz looks at Iranian culture and literature pre and post revolution including poets and mystics. There is a close reading of Shahrnoush Parsipur's Women Without Men (1989), she describes the effect on her classmates of the early death of the poet Forrough Farrokhzad. There are poets, mystics, novelists, film makers, philosophers and many more. The arguments are convincing and she goes through RLT in detail pointing out inconsistencies and the flatness of many of the players. Keshavarz draws on New Orientalism perspectives to make her point; she also points to the Westernization of goodness in RLT, an unqualified attribution of good things with the West. One of the problems is that readers, especially in the West, tend to bring many preconceived ideas with them about Islam and the situation in the Middle East and RLT just reinforces them with no thought or analysis. Keshavarz sets the record straight and as a result my to be read list has suddenly grown a little longer!
I was kind of gratified on reading the introduction of this book that I had spotted some of the issues with Reading Lolita in Tehranmyself, despite being a white ‘western’ person accustomed to relying on native/insider voices when thinking about other cultures. Keshavarz sets out to provide something of an antidote to what she identifies as the New Orientalist narrative espoused by Reading Lolita..., The Kite Runner (which I felt no temptation to read after seeing the film) and other recent(ish) works. She provides a detailed critique of Reading Lolita, but this is actually given in the penultimate chapter. She prioritises material that she feels Azar Nafisi left out of her memoir – positive aspects of life in Iran.
She introduces her aims by telling about how her family would sleep on their roof terrace on summer nights in Shiraz, under the bright starry sky, and how her grandmother would leave a jasmine flower by the nose of each sleeper early in the morning. Occasionally, swarms of grasshoppers made sleeping outdoors uncomfortable for Fatemeh as well as causing problems for local farmers. If I only told you about the grasshoppers, she says, you would never have imagined the jasmine and the stars. So since Nafisi has given us grasshoppers, she sets out to offer the missing starlight and fragrant blossom, pointing out the problems of the New Orientalist narrative on the way.
New Orientalism is the old Orientalism except, Keshavarz says, it often has a native/seminative/insider voice, as is the case with Reading Lolita. This makes it more credible, especially to white people, who are rightly told to learn by listening to native voices and accepting what we hear. The native voice element attempts to neutralise Said's by now well known critique. New Orientalism “explains almost all undesirable incidents in the Middle East with reference to Muslim men’s submission to God and Muslim women’s submission to men” and “does not hide its preference for a western political and cultural takeover” also, it assigns valuable aspects of Muslim culture to a past golden age, sadly lost, and presents the locals as uncomplicated, incapable of innovation, stubborn, hateful, sexually repressed or perverse, and so on.
One of Reading Lolita’s assertions is that Iranian culture does not recognise or value literary merit. Even I could see that this is absurd and directly counter to the truth. My image of Iran is of a culture where virtually everyone, even teenage boys, recite poetry to each other for recreation. Keshavarz confirms that Iranians don’t just value literature ‘we live it’; for example when feeling low, she would visit the tomb of Hafez. She introduces us to two modern Iranian women writers – Forough Farrokhzad and Shahrnush Parsipur – in detail. She also refers to other Iranian writers, especially poets, both classical and contemporary, but it’s the work of these women she explores in depth. In the face of this it’s impossible to maintain a fiction that contemporary Iranian literature does not exist or that its only value or validity comes from imitating the west. She mentions that when her high school physics teacher announced, with deep distress, that Forough Farrokhzad had died, the whole class was distraught. Everyone knew her.
Another topic is ‘my uncle the painter’, literally. Fatemeh shares some thoughts about her lovely uncle and father and other folks in her life who are nothing like the stereotypes presented by the New Orientalism. It’s telling that such a simple strategy can be effective – the totalising vision presented by Reading Lolita and its ilk makes invisible the realitiies that Fatemeh is able to reconjure by simply sharing a few anecdotes. In addition though, she offers profound insights both about the functioning of New Orientalism (for example, how the extremist stance is boosted by its dominant image abroad), its mode of literary criticism, about Islam and Muslims. She draws on discussions with family members, poetry lovers and her own knowledge.
Increasingly I think the most useful form of academic work draws on personal sources, analysing moments that resonated in the author’s own life. The loving activism Fatemeh Keshavarz has done in creating this book is a beautiful, lifesaving thing. It’s completely accessible, and since it makes use of extended poetic metaphor to string its illuminating anecdotes and sharp ideas together, it’s also a sensual delight.
I'm glad to have read this. I've only read free samples of Reading Lolita in Tehran (RLT), which Jasmine and Stars criticizes. But, it will probably be years before I get around to it, and so I'll capture my reactions to this book while they're fresh:
* Jasmine and Stars argues that RLT demonizes Iran and Islam; oversimplifies the complex individuals who make up modern Iran; ignores the country's proud Persian heritage and vibrant modern literary culture; and presents Western literature as a salvation for confused and benighted young Iranians. I'm sure that's not what Azar Nafisi, RLT's author, understood herself to be doing at all. I suspect RLT is better understood as the work of an author who has experienced painful oppression and is writing about how literature has helped her and her students understand their experiences and take greater control of their internal lives.
* Keshavarz's book includes some moving and very personal anecdotes; one of her overt purposes is to offer herself as an alternative window, for an American audience, of what it can mean to be Iranian. She grew up with loving, moderate male relatives, deep exposure to Persian poetry, and no apparent difficulty reconciling (Islamic) faith and modernity. That's great as far as it goes, but doesn't invalidate Nafisi's experience.
* Perhaps more problematically, all of Keshavarz' stories reflect well on herself, which I take as a bit of a red-flag when an author is using techniques of memoir to persuade a reader.
* Keshavarz doesn't address a couple of topics that I wished she had: the distinctions that set Persian culture and faith apart from pan-Islamic culture and religion; and the ways the 1979 Revolution has changed or obliterated aspects of modern Iranian culture and cultural institutions. These might illumine a difference in frame between RLT and Jasmine and Stars. My hunch is that in RLT, Nafisi pours out her scorn on the Revolution in part because of the damage she has seen it do to the Persian cultural heritage and current artists. But Keshavarz appears to read RLT as an attack - or, at least, a dismissal - of not just the Revolution, but of everything Iranian, and I'm wondering how clearly Keshavarz sees the distinction.
* If one discounts Keshavarz' critique as failing to engage RLT on its own terms (and again, I haven't read RLT and so can't tell for certain), Jasmine and Stars still has several points to offer: a picture of Keshavarz' childhood; an introduction to a modern poet (Forough Farrokhzad) and a modern novelist (Shahrnush Parsipar) that Keshavarz reveres; and a reminder of the importance of love as a force that transcends conflict and is very much at home in Persian culture.
I found most of her criticism of Nafisi's Reading Lolita in Tehran didn't line up at all to what I saw from the book. She seemed to read it as an attack on the Iranian people, but Nafisi loved the Iranian people. What she hated was the political institution and the human rights violations it implemented after the revolution. The book was a mourning for what she knew Iran could be, and all the injustices being committed against the Iranian people by the oppressive regime.
I also didn't walk away thinking the west needed to "save" Iran, or that foreign powers should get involved. Iranians are the only ones who can change Iran outside of destruction and war - and the situation has been slowly improving. It left me hoping that Iran will continue to open up and that their women will get more and more equality.
Nafisi's RLT read as a deeply personal and sincere memoir of her life, one that of course showed her biases, but it was not meant to be impartial. What kind of sincere memoir is impartial? It was meant to explore her thoughts and feelings and show what it is like to try to reconcile your beliefs in a place where everything seems to have turned against them. And I thought how much she cared and bonded with her students was beautiful.
Keshavarz uses examples of Nafisi's "discrimination" against the Iranian people by pointing out how she used the word "mob" to describe Iranians at a crowded concert, and how she didn't use that language to take about Westerners. The thing is, she NEVER talks about westerners - even the chapters that take place in the USA, it is mostly confined to the Iranian community at her university. OF COURSE both the negative and positive words will pertain to the people who are actually in the book - and there are many very positively portrayed characters.
I walked away from RLT with an interest in learning more Iranian culture and heritage, a lot of reflection on the value of literature, and reflecting on the discussions that were had with her students in their class - how they reflect on the complexities of life.
This book (Jasmine & Stars) reads like an academic essay, I couldn't get sucked in. Even when Keshavarz describes her own memories of Iran, it is written in the clear goal of proving her thesis, not in honest reflection. The thesis-evidence feel to the book make the stories feel dry and insincere, or at least not as heartfelt.
I was disappointed. I wanted something that would captivate me and make me both think and feel, and motivate me to read more books on Iran - like RLT did by leading me here.
Seeking a better balance of light, fun, and beauty to offset the darkness that is emphasized in many accounts of her Iranian motherland, Keshavarz offers a highly enjoyable tour of literary pleasures. She highlights the great female literary artists of the modern age, with tributes to poets like Forugh Farrokhzad, Parvin E’tessami, or Simin Behbahani, novelists like Shahrnoush Parsipour or Simin Daneshvar, or film makers such as Tahmineh Milani and Rakhshan Banietemad. Above all, she provides personal glimpses into the poetry-soaked world of the family and friends she grew up with in Shiraz, who loved to share beautiful lines of tenderness and insight from Sufi mystics such as Rumi, Hafez, or Sa’di, like Rumi’s line “You have come to connect.”
İt's more a 2.5 than a 3. İ'm feeling a bit conflicted about this book: it set out to talk about Orientalism in the media treatment of İran in the present day, but then changed towards trying to convince the american reader that iranians are human beings, which 1) should be clear anyway 2) makes it feel like the position she's arguing against has any merit to it and 3) prevents her from being critical with the iranian government in order to not risk the objective of the book. Her claim to stay out of politics and ideology felt somewhat disingenuous – you can't talk about the iranian revolution & global politics about islam without positioning yourself politically in some way. İt was, however, an interesting insight into her own social group, which is iranian americans who can afford to be politically neutral, which is why İ ended up giving 3 stars instead of 2. İt's still a very interesting read, the points she makes about New Orientalism are good points, but it has to be read critically. Also very nice if you'd like an introduction to persian literature & poetry.
It was great to hear some good stuff about Iran. The Jasmine flowers of the title are very lovely, and I was happy to be reminded of the stars in Iran. They are especially gorgeous from the deserts around Kerman. But... I felt this book was uneven - and more than a little confused about whatever it was doing. Is it a dissertation she did on RLT that has some of her family memoirs mixed in? If so, I felt that the literary analysis was much blander than it might have been. I felt like she was a teacher repeating her point to a class of dullards. As to her (privileged) family: I felt the female members were somewhat glossed over. Or is the book actually about New Orientalism? If so, why such a focus only on RLT? The big deal about Orientalism (of all sorts) is surely that it is so pervasive. There are lots of other books out there to demolish. Why didn't she say more about this? Some comparisons (including some positives) would have improved the literary analysis too. Or perhaps the book is supposed to give some idea of what Iran is "really like"? If so, why so upper class? I wished the "illiterate" man who knew all the poems had been gifted more of a voice. What did he actually think of the poems? How were his opinions different to hers? She silenced him more effectively than his lack of reading skills had deafened him. And although she spoke against the idea of Islam only being negative, she didnt flesh this out at all. It's surely a challenge catering for an audience of variable knowledge and varied opinions. So maybe I should be kinder. Overall, though, I think it was a wasted opportunity.
Although the scholarly premise intrigued me, I found the writing tedious and the content non-illuminating. Prof. Keshavarz's premise is that "Reading Lolita in Tehran," "The Kite Runner," and a few other novels popular among 20th U.S. readers misrepresent modern Iranian culture and its people. I can accept that as probable, but found that her approach to supporting it rather tedious to read. What support she gave seemed (to me) from a privileged class perspective; many of her examples are from her own family environment, her parents and grandparents. Still, I don't question her argument, partly because of having read other books and having learned from an Iranian friend.
Sounds interesting! I want to read it since I just read Reading Lolita in Tehran. However, I don't think anything in this book will negate Nafisi's experiences or the truth that she speaks.
Author Keshavarz is absolutely spot-on with her review and criticisms of Reading Lolita in Tehran (RLT). RLT came out with a firm point of view, suggesting that women in Iran were not allowed to develop mature thinking unmolested. This sparked a debate within the literary community in Iran which Keshavarz engages, opening for readers a look into other hearts and minds within the wider literary community in Iran. But the book has a scholarly and instructive feel, and one is put in mind of grading a bright student's master's thesis. She would have gotten a A- I think. An A for making the effort to refute the sloppy thinking in RLT and a minus for not making me want to read it.
The book is written as a critical response to Azar Nafisi's Reading Lolita in Tehran. I agree with the arguments Keshavarz tries to make, however, the book needs serious editing in terms of language and style. Not all the points she makes are clearly explained. And there are some irrelevant vague ideas that should have been discussed in detail.
I stumbled upon this text rather unexpectedly, but the premise intrigued me enough to push it straight to the top of my reading list. After spending some time with this book, I cannot help but feel slightly let down by it. Other reviewers have already mentioned some of the potential issues here: a rather clumsy prologue sets us up for a scattershot approach to critiquing New Orientalism through memoir and literary criticism. While the prose improves significantly after the frankly bumbling introduction, and though the memories of various family members provide some beautiful and interesting portraits, they end up feeling rather limited, dare I say nostalgically rosy. And that, in fact, permeates the description of Iran as a whole. Without a doubt, Keshavarz set out to provide a counternarrative to Nafisi's Iran, which is perfectly fine and, indeed, necessary. However, setting up a white fram next to a black one does not create a full picture. The most glaring example, for me, is the chapter on Parsipur's 'Women without men'. Keshavarz does an admirable job describing the novel's many characters and symbolic power, trumpeting it as a feminist tour-de-force of Iranian fiction. She does not, however, waste any words on the effect this had on Parsipur's life and livelihood, the persecution she had to endure, and the reason for her eventual exile. Indeed, the fact that this book was banned in Iran gets a most fleeting mention somewhere between two plot points. AS such, thsi book can at times feel intellectually dishonest, guilty of the same corruption as the very book it is critiquing.
That being said, I think Jasmine and Stars has its heart int he right place, and besides its almost 40-page beatdown of Reading Lolita in Tehran, it features some wonderful discussions of Persian literature and Islamic tradition and culture that are well worth your time despite the rose-colored glasses. Indeed, it would've been nice to see Keshavarz flesh out these themes more; it seems like she is perpetually in a rush to move us to the next topic, making this book feel like a review of Reading Lolita in Tehran with a bunch of digressions put in to pad the book. That cannot have been the intent. At the very least, in my case, Keshavarz has achieved her objective, as I have found more candles to illuminate the elephant, and for that I am appreciative.
Prof Keshavarz' expertise in Persian Literature is clear throughout - to a degree that I wonder why, to oppose New Orientalist narrations, she did not devise a book entirely dedicated to the promotion of 20th century Iranian intellectual production. Her critique of RLT, instead, is as punctilious (and resentfully so, I'm afraid) as often irrelevant and ineffective - mainly because Keshavarz uses personalistic views (references to friends, relatives, acquaintances) to oppose the personalistic views of Nafisi, or because she pleads the argument that 'such things happen anywhere there is a war/revolution'. I agree that RLT is not a good book to learn about the revolution and post revolutionary Iran, but the reason for this is precisely that it is a memoir, not intended to be an objective documentation. Despite Keshavarz' being very aware of this, as well as of the background and education of Nafisi, she recognises a 'confusion of genres' in Nafisi's book, and seems to point to it as if it were a deliberate tool for Nafisi to criticise Iranian society as she sees fit. However, Keshavarz' critique shows how much she loves her country and how proud of Iranian creativity (and resistance) she is - but it is a pity that she decides to criticise so punctiliously the bestseller instead of producing an alternative narrative, or exposition. An interesting read on Iranian memoirs and memoir features, by Roxanne Varzi (2008): https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v30/n... On the commodification and ‘propagandisation’ of memoirs, see Gillian Whitlock, Soft Weapons: Autobiography in Transit. Chicago 2006.
Thank you to Fatemeh Keshavarz for writing this book! She did a wonderful job not only analyzing and refuting many of the claims laid in Reading Lolita in Tehran, but also introducing the reader to many inspiration, talented, and, sadly unmentioned in the previous book, Iranian figures and people worthy of note. She is on point when she says New Orientalist narratives, including but not limited to Reading Lolita in Tehran, only serve to reinforce in western readers' minds what they already "know" about Iran, the middle eat, and Muslims when in fact these books are often "political commentary with a very personal bent" (21). These New Orientalist books (and movies) often have a native or semi-native insider tone to them and "replicate the totalizing -- and silencing -- tendencies of the old Orientalists by vuritue of erasing, through unnuanced narration, the complexity and richness in the local culture" (3).
Please, if you have read Reading Lolita in Tehran or any of these other New Orientalist narratives, such as the wildly popular books by Khaled Husseini, please read this book as an accompaniment to them. I beseech you to do so. If your entire knowledge of the middle east, of Muslims, of Iran, etc. comes from what you read about in the newspapers (or online) and from these books, if you think you "know" what it's all about, please read this book. And don't just read this book, please read others about these same subjects because, as Keshavarz says, we need to see the elephant as a whole, we need more candles and more light.
One wonders if this book would have garnered much interest if it wasn't such an unabashed critique of Nafisi's more popular Reading Lolita in Tehran.
In a way, I do thank Azar Nafisi for writing RLT because if she didn't, Keshavarz would not have had such tantalizing fodder that inspired her to write her book.
I get what Ms. Keshavarz was trying to say. That there is danger in the way Iran and Iranians are being depicted by Nafisi in her book. But even in the reading of RLT, I knew that these men and women were not reflections of the majority. Even I as someone not from Iran, can tell the difference.
So will it be utterly catastrophic that so many RLT readers will form such woefully wrong impressions about Iran and Iranians? Does not the author trust that maybe some of the readers may not be so myopic?
I'm not saying that this book wasn't necessary. Jasmine and Stars is a fine counterbalance to RLT. But in reading the book, I felt as if I'm being chided for wrongfully liking the book RLT and that I had formed ill-conceived notions as to what and who Iran and Iranians really are.
Oh, and by the way, I thought that quote about "standing on shoulders of giants" on page 67, belonged to Isaac Newton. Not Darwin.
This was an interesting book but I think it would have benefited from extensive editing. It was written by an Iranian woman who is a poet and professor at Washington University. She was offended by the portrayal of Iran in "Reading Lolita in Tehran" and some other books about Iran, because they reflect a Western prejudice which sees Iranian men as evil, women as submissive, and the modern culture lacking any contribution to the arts. She describes her childhood in Iran lovingly, the kind Iran men she has known in her life, and gives extensive examples of modern Iranian women poets. She also has an entire chapter devoted to a detailed description of the prejudice reflected in "Reading Lolita". I skimmed this chapter.
I had loved "Reading Lolita" so I was caught short by this author's perspective. I am glad to have had my mind broadened by this book, but while each chapter was fairly well organized, I thought the chapters didn't flow one from the other very well.
The book accomplishes two objectives. One, gives an alternative picture of Iranian culture since the 1979 revolution; two, is a memoir of her family life during her early years in Shiraz. The author teaches medieval Persian literature in the U.S., so that subject informs this memoir, especially her childhood's learning of classical stories and poems in reading with her father Baba. Several chapters refute the "New Orientalist narrative" packaged for western consumption. Keshavarz's voice definitely needs to be heard and her memories of fragrant jasmine and of starry nights to be savored.
I am about done reading this book, and it is great! Yes, there is a quite a bit of literary criticism, but that is precisely why I like it. It is quite critcal about statements and assertions made in "Reading Lolita in Tehran", and this is necessary as there were some things said in RLT that were quite incorrect in terms of "most Iranians". I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to know more beyond the rather negative tone of RLT.
An interesting and also puzzling book. I have NOT read 'Reading Lolita in Tehran' so I cannot really assess Keshavarz's criticisms of it, or know whether it really says what she reads there or whether she's arguing with a series of strawmen.
RLT, as she calls it, is not as central to her book as I expected. This is more like a group of essays inspired by her different disagreements with RLT - about her favorite Iranian poets and writers, about members of her family and about aspects of Iran's history and culture, all of which disprove what she takes to be the assertions of RLT. As a small introduction to some of Iran's literary heritage it was very interesting. I don't know whether the oppressive aspects of Iranian society, which we always hear about, are less prevalent than westerners are led by our media to believe, or whether she's saying that in spite of the repression of the government and its minions Iranian people maintain their liberty of mind and a thriving culture of writing and film. I'm also not informed enough to know whether for every filmmaker or author she cites, there are others who are not permitted to write and publish? I don't know. The novel she spends a lot of time talking about is "now banned in Iran" according to the Goodreads page for it; she does not say this, implying that such a voice is welcome to speak in Iran. Has it been banned since this book was written? I don't know that either...
The most important part of the book, for me, is her positing of a "new Orientialism" in western writing about the Muslim world - books written by denizens of that world, but clearly catering to us because they set the west up to be so much better than the 'east.' Besides RLT, she cites "The Bookseller of Kabul" and "The Kite Runner" as examples of this literature that obscures or denigrates Muslim culture and history in an effort to cater to western readers. This is something that we should all be wary of if we want to understand the world outside our borders, and it is the main point of this book.
This is where my puzzlement came in. Azar Nafisi is Iranian. The author of Kite Runner is Afghan. Do these people really hate their cultures enough to present them in such negative and skewed ways? I presume that they have been through struggles that make them angry, but I can assess neither what they write nor how it relates to their own experiences, not having read the books (and now not planning to). So I'm left with puzzlement... I did think briefly of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, though, while Keshavarz quotes over and over from Nafisi. There's one who is happy to demonize Islam and deify the west, in order to sell well here and be a pet Muslim of a right wing think tank...
(Small typo: the first time Henry James is mentioned in conjunction with his concerns for the US entering a world war, it says world war II, which is obviously wrong as he died in I think 1916; later, it's correct, so this is just a typo.)
Read by the author, the structure of this book is entirely different than any I've come across. Keshavarz wanted to defend her Iranian and Persian culture from misrepresentations, so she did so from many angles. She brings in her personal experiences of growing up in Iran, and she reflects on her studies as a literature professor. This means that she presents us with bits of history, poetry, short stories,visual arts, philosophy, and social observations. One thing that often comes up when someone is defending her culture is a sensitivity to how damned sensitive people are. Authors often have palpable restraint in protesting negative portraits of their culture, knowing that readers are quick to call someone bitter, or to bring out that silly complaint of "reverse racism." Keshavarz doesn't hold back how hurt and angry she feels when books like "Reading Lolita in Tehran" come out. She quite pointedly tears apart its Western Savior viewpoint, and more delicately points out that the author uses certain narrative styles and tropes that make the book's authenticity highly suspect. In the audio version, we can hear her contempt in her own voice for the misplaced fear of an entire religion based on the horrors we hear about, vs. the ordinary people who aren't villainous enough to get in the news. For me, it felt like she was respecting her audience to truly listen to WHY she feels angry and maligned.
Besides all this, it made me incredibly sad to hear her talk about how much poetry had shaped her upbringing, and how she defended literature in general. It reminded me of how much we've lost by not valuing our arts studies, globally speaking. It is so frequent to hear people dismiss liberal arts as useless, that even as an English teacher, I've had to adapt a great deal in how much time I can spend on literature studies. If I can cover three poems in one year, it's a dip into extravagance. If we fully read two novels, I have to really rush and prioritize, because the drumbeat of nonfiction and technical reading cannot be ignored. All I can really do in response is continue to value good reading in my own time and hope that there are enough fellow fans to keep that art alive.
I have always disagreed with Nasifi's interpretation of life in Tehran post Revolution. I disagreed because the people and images she showed did not fit with the people and images I had seen in multiple deployments to the Mideast pre 911. Now I know that my personnel images were more correct than I thought they were. Another disagreement with Nasifi was her subject matter. If I was to choose a Nabokov novel it would not be Lolita. The Luzien Defense is better by a mile. Lolita is really a book that will sell by titillation of American senses and therefor make a pile of money. But I digress.
Jasmine and Stars shows a truer picture of people in Iran and by extension the Mideast. We have poets, bureaucrat, teachers, and the whole panoply of types of people that make up any society. I also discovered some new writers and poets from Persian literature that might be worth exploring. To fully understand our enemies we have to know them well. The best way to know them is to read and digest there literature. By digesting there literature one finds out why they believe the way they do and one can also find that he has been sold a bill of goods that fits a political agenda, but is not truthful or accurate. Rather an agenda that is convenient and uneducated. One of the main problems with our country today, and for many years, we like convenient and simple explanations about people, races, science, economics, etc. The problem is that simple is not necessarily correct and convenient may be a broad brush that shoves the majority in with the minority. Just a thought on our current situation.
If you want a better understanding of how people in Iran actually think, this is a must read.
I decided I needed another view of the narrative so after I read "Reading Lolita in Tehran" by Azar Nafisi I decided to read this book. This is really an academic paper, a critique/memoir, if you will but it is the best damn academic paper I have ever read in my life. The name the author uses "New Orientalist" brings about a different image to me which made reading this book confusing but I think everyone should read this after reading RLT because having only one side told/read is not good at all. We should make an effort to hear all points of view. This book brought up a lot of questions and concerns about RLT that I did not have while reading RLT. I was super sucked into RLT and now I see I need to take what Nafisi writes with a grain of salt. The factual errors the author found in RLT and rebuked on page 138 stood out to me the most. Keshavarz is right, RLT tells a narrative/ adopts atone regarding Iran that does not leave anything positive for the reader to read (138-139). There cannot all be bad, there must be good too and that is exactly what Keshavarz proves.
I liked how the author challenged the stories/events in RLT and the way she wrote what she did. I enjoyed the author's stories about jasmine and stars and particularly the one at the end of the book regarding the author's father and reading and reciting poetry together.
This book did what it set out to do: be a candle to enable me to see more of the "elephant" in the dark room. Keshavarz's discussion on Neo Orientalism confirmed what I already sort of knew about modern works portraying entire countries and cultures as backwards/violent/brutal. I was lucky enough to read a few books centered on Iran/Persian culture in the past that did the good thing of avoiding brutal stereotypes and western/savior type characters. So in my mind, I related Persian culture with poetry/tea and philosophical grown ups.
I appreciate that this author didn't just tell her own story, but also did an argument and dissection of a wildly popular work (Reading Lolita in Tehran) so as to arm the reader with the ability to recognize Neo Orientalism in writing. However, the parts I most enjoyed were the author's stories about her kind, curious male and female role models, the importance of poetry and poets to her/her family/her classmates' education, and her anecdotes from working in America and challenging her sometimes misguided colleagues. Giving four stars because 1. Sometimes the criticism of RLT felt like it was line by line, quote by quote, which was less persuasive than it could've been. 2. I'm still a bit in the dark about "how things changed" after the Revolution.
Regarding Jasmine and Stars: Reading more than Lolita in Tehran, I should have read this book years ago; it’s been sitting on my shelf for at least six years. In fact, I should have read this book as soon as I saw the Stephen Kinzer blurb on the back. It’s a book about literature, it’s a book about poetry, it’s a book about life, it’s a book about geopolitics, it’s a book about gender relations, it’s a book about a particular place (Iran), and it’s a book—surprisingly enough—about Scripture. Dr Fātemeh Keshāvarz has a remarkable gift for anecdote; and it’s her warm, personal voice that elevates this book from merely ‘good’ to remarkable and sublime.
It is not, I hasten to add, easy. It is in fact quite a challenging text. While you are reading it, you can get the distinct impression that you are reading three books at once. That impression is not, on its face, wrong. Jasmine and Stars is all three: a devastating and trenchant critique of a particular book (Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi, which she refers to by its acronym of RLT); a literary survey of modern Iranian cultural output, with a studied emphasis on female poets and novelists; and a touching personal memoir of the author and her family in Iran...
I’m only a quarter of the way done with this book but love it! Too many times, we as westerners, want to go into a country and “fix” things in our own way. It doesn’t work and often ends up quite hurtful and inconsiderate of the culture of the country. Apparently from this book, that is the problem with “Reading Lolita in Tehran” (RLT). The difficulties described in the book were products of a recent revolution and not representative of the thousands of years of culture and love of all literature that Persia was cultivated, curated. I haven’t been to Iran, but studied it in my undergrad. And the difficult approaches the US and others have taken in approaching countries in war or other tenuous situations. Our approach has been to “make them safe for (Western) democracy.” Ha!
Off my political soap box, and back to the book. The author is a professor of Persian literature in the US and I would love to be able to learn more from her of the rich literary history of Iran.
She makes another point that not only is RLT forbidden in Iran, but many people struggle with the actually illegal actions (in most countries) described in the book.
2.5⭐️ Автор критикует другую книгу (под авторством Нафизи), пересказывает содержание мистической новеллы иранского/персидского автора-женщины и рассказывает о своей семье и детстве в Ширазе, пытаясь дать читателю «правильный» взгляд на Иран. Для меня это сработало бы гораздо лучше по отдельности: критическое эссе, автобиографические зарисовки и рекомендация книги иранского автора. А так Кешаварз стоит на плечах других авторов, опираясь на чужие тексты в каждом абзаце. Подробный пересказ сюжета другой книги? Серьезно? Критика, основанная на сплошных эмоциях? Как можно всерьез относиться к критике работы Нафиси в следующем ключе: у всех шум за окном - это символ текущей жизни, а вот ей [Нафиси] оттуда слышится детский шум и зов их матерей с угрозами о наказании за непослушание. Солнце ей, видите ли, обманчиво светит. И прочее в таком же духе. Странная и даже детская позиция: если наши ощущения и взгляды не совпадают, то у тебя они неправильные. Рассказы о семье были теплые и полные света и любви. Хотя сравнение обоих дядюшек-военных со святыми смущает, конечно. Предвзятая работа.
Silly and fluffy at best, and dangerously optimistic about the state of Iran and Islam ar worst, this book is still worth a read for those who have already completed the work it purports to refute. The author conveniently ignores many of the more troubling aspects of Shiite Islam, blaming it all on culture and forgetting that much of what she claims isn't true Islam can be found in the Quran and Hadith. Her picture is much too rosy to be realistic, and I hope that no one reads her work alone and without a proper context and understanding. In her efforts to portray Iranians as normal human beings, she falls into factual inaccuracy.
I enjoyed reading about Fatemah Keshavarz's stories and reflections from her childhood in Shiraz, Iran: how she learned about poetry/literature and love from her family members, and what a significant part poetry played in her community (apparently Shiraz is called the City of Poets, among other things!).
I haven't read Reading Lolita in Tehran (RLT), but if indeed the book has the caricatures of revolutionaries and Muslim people that Keshavarz says it does, I would say 1) the author of RLT, Azar Nafisi, has the right to write whatever she wants but also 2) Keshavarz has the right to criticize the book for making false generalizations and recommend that people not continue to read the book to learn about Iran. And I can understand her sometimes doing a line-by-line tear-apart of the book because that's the kind of evidence you have to bring when you're arguing a point that counters what your audience currently thinks (and RLT is extremely popular).
I can completely understand the frustration she feels about RLT being most people's picture of Iranian life, so it was refreshing to read about that. As a Chinese American, I'm accustomed to people in the US taking for granted that China is a backwards, repressive place, 100%, due to the US mainstream media only telling negative stories about "Communist" China. I think that the Chinese government needs to be better, but I honestly don't want to hear it from people who have never lived there, don't really know or care about people who have, and who think that the US is in contrast totally free and democratic which it is definitely not (since we have more people in prison per capita than any other country). I bet it's annoying as hell for Keshavarz to meet US readers of RLT who think they need to save Iran. Her point is that plenty of people in Iran are smart, politically active, and strong. They experience love, joy, pride, and triumph, and they are working to make their country better.
I docked Keshavarz one star for spoiling the entire plot and everything that happens in the book Women without Men -_-