Shahrnush Parsipur: Touba And The Meaning Of Night

[LAreader]

I am currently reading Touba by Iranian writer Shahrnush Parsipur and would appreciate discussing this unusual novel with anyone who is familiar with it.

[Omo]

I read it a while ago, but I'm afraid I won't be able to discuss it with you - it doesn't seem to have made much of an impression on me. I only remember that it was very depressing - in the end everything came down to: so what? Has anything changed? Was all this fighting and bearing of any use?

It was a very readable book, gave insight into Iran's culture and the women in there, and how society changed from traditional over a short period of political liberty to strong religious restrictions. In my mind it's closely related to Kader Abdolah's House of the Mosque. In what way do you think it is unusual?

[LAreader]

Thanks for your comment. To what extent is there a fatalist stream in Iranian literature that embraces or seems to find meaning in futility and suffering? I came across something similar in the novel The Last of the Angels by Fadhil al-Azzawi, set in Kurdish Iraq. It appears again in novels about the impact of the 1948 partition on displaced Palestinians.

When I described Touba as "unusual," I was speaking more of the way the story is told. For at least the first 100 pp., as I'm reading it, the point of view is entirely that of the character Touba herself - which in the gender-segregated world of the early 20th century in Iran means that the story is contained entirely in the sheltered world reserved for women. There is no larger context - social, political, etc.

At the same time, there is that distance between narrator and character I have found in Middle Eastern storytelling. Western fiction by comparison seems much more intimately personal, maybe less respectful of privacy. The reader is invited to share the character's experience, whereas in cases like Touba, the role of the reader is to be an observer - more detached. This may not make any sense, but it's an aspect of fiction from that part of the world I've noticed since I first read Naguib Mafouz years ago.

For someone steeped in Western literature, this is both "unusual" and intriguing. I would appreciate any further thoughts on this subject.

[Amoxcalli]

This may not make any sense, but it's an aspect of fiction from that part of the world I've noticed since I first read Naguib Mafouz years ago.


Interesting. I've read a number of Mahfouz' works and I've never experienced this. I shall have to look for it next time I pick up something by Mahfouz.

Respected Sir, especially, I found to be quite the opposite actually, very personal and confronting. Are there any works in particular you're referring to?

[LAreader]

If we're talking about Mahfouz, I have read only the first two volumes of the Cairo Trilogy, and it has been maybe three years, so my memory is going to be selective. The vision of his characters, what they do, and what happens to them is to my way of thinking somewhat comic - they get into predicaments, even painful ones, that are often ironic and amusing. But Mahfouz observes them from a distance, and even while we may care about them, we feel little of their distress or their pain. So it seems to me.

[Omo]

I'll add some thoughts.


When I described Touba as "unusual," I was speaking more of the way the story is told. For at least the first 100 pp., as I'm reading it, the point of view is entirely that of the character Touba herself - which in the gender-segregated world of the early 20th century in Iran means that the story is contained entirely in the sheltered world reserved for women. There is no larger context - social, political, etc.

We are speaking of a novel by a female author with a female main protagonist - there cannot be larger context because there is no public female life there, right? Public life is men's sphere. The distinction between public and private life is much bigger than over here, the family is a unity against the world, and all of a woman's life plays between these borders or is at least supposed to take place there. And isn't this the source of Tuba's sorrow? She is in-between due to her liberal father who wants to offer her more possibilities (I hope I remember this right, don't count on it.) but it is society that doesn't accept and draws her back into her lines. She is an outsider due to the initial open-mindedness of her father.


Thanks for your comment. To what extent is there a fatalist stream in Iranian literature that embraces or seems to find meaning in futility and suffering? I came across something similar in the novel The Last of the Angels by Fadhil al-Azzawi, set in Kurdish Iraq. It appears again in novels about the impact of the 1948 partition on displaced Palestinians.[..]
At the same time, there is that distance between narrator and character I have found in Middle Eastern storytelling. Western fiction by comparison seems much more intimately personal, maybe less respectful of privacy. The reader is invited to share the character's experience, whereas in cases like Touba, the role of the reader is to be an observer - more detached. This may not make any sense, but it's an aspect of fiction from that part of the world I've noticed since I first read Naguib Mafouz years ago.

For someone steeped in Western literature, this is both "unusual" and intriguing. I would appreciate any further thoughts on this subject.

I think you are generalising way too much. You are speaking of Middle Eastern vs. Western, can you define these terms? I think: Mahfouz is Egyptian (Arabian, Maghreb), you mention the Palestenians (Arabian, Near East, though I guess the English have adopted the US-American term "Middle East" for I don't what huge a region - but where's the Near East then, Europe?) and a Kurdish novel (again, Near East) and we try to talk about a Persian novel (Middle East). Those are very different cultures and I would be wary to sum the up in one term like you do. The same goes for Western, naturally.

Re the "find meaning in futility and suffering": Do you know Nizami's Leila and Madshnun (probably transliterated differently to English)? In this classical Persian love story the male protagonist (forgot the name) becomes crazy due to love to Leila and his incapabiltiy of being with her. He gets insane, a Madshnun, and this insanity is a religious ecstasy for him - he finds meaning in his sorrow, he tastes his despair and becomes addicted to it, by making this love the sole reason for his existence he heightens it from mundane realms to a universal feeling - he de-personifies it until it's not Leila that he loves but the whole world that is inherent in Leila.
So yes, I think you are right in your observation - suffering seems to be seen as something purgatorial, who suffers is auratic, a blessed person, like Job.

Re distance between narrator and character: it's true that literature here is much closer to the person, but this has also only been developed quite recently (in the last few decades) I believe. What's private and what's public is more and more blurred, and this is reflected in literature.

[Amoxcalli]

Since I've only read his later works, chances are that it's just a change in style Mahfouz underwent. I've read that somewhere after The Cairo Trilogy, he had a pretty radical change in style.

[LAreader]

We are speaking of a novel by a female author with a female main protagonist - there cannot be larger context because there is no public female life there, right? Public life is men's sphere. The distinction between public and private life is much bigger than over here, the family is a unity against the world, and all of a woman's life plays between these borders or is at least supposed to take place there.



I understand this. My expectation maybe was that an author writing today would reconceptualize that world so that it was revealed in a larger context. I also understand that Parsipur is not obliged to do that. It may well be that the portrayal of this sequestered world is exactly her intent.




Re the "find meaning in futility and suffering": Do you know Nizami's Leila and Madshnun (probably transliterated differently to English)?



I'm still a novice in regard to Near/Middle Eastern cultural differences. While I'm aware that they exist, I find myself looking for patterns across them, and so it is easy to over-generalize. I appreciate the reference to Leila and Madshnun. When I see the name Layla in literature, is that a possible allusion to this same legend?

[LAreader]

Since I've only read his later works, chances are that it's just a change in style Mahfouz underwent. I've read that somewhere after The Cairo Trilogy, he had a pretty radical change in style.

Would you care to recommend a title that would be an example of this?

[Amoxcalli]

I thought Wedding Song was very good, although I haven't nearly read enough to give you a definitive suggestion as to which novel would be "best". I don't think you'll regret reading Wedding Song though.

@Omo, I've come across it as Layla and Majnun. Coincidentally, I finished reading Nizami's version (albeit translated to prose) just two days ago.

@LAreader, probably, yeah. I know Clapton's Layla is a reference, at least. It's quite a household story in the Middle East anyway.

[Omo]

[...]I'm still a novice in regard to Near/Middle Eastern cultural differences. While I'm aware that they exist, I find myself looking for patterns across them, and so it is easy to over-generalize. I appreciate the reference to Leila and Madshnun. When I see the name Layla in literature, is that a possible allusion to this same legend?

Yes, it's quite likely that this is an allusion to this legend. I also don't know much about Iran, my main focus is German literature, and then several European literatures, before I come around to read something from other parts of the world, so I'm the last person to give you advise in this regard, as I've read very little and books I've only randomly picked myself.

For quite a bit of time I also wanted to read Chosrou and Schirin (again, certainly transliterated differently to English), another love story by Nizami.