Weekend Reading

Recollections of books carried back and forth on the elevated train -- in a long-term, though belated, attempt to learn something about the world.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Ferdowsi : Shahnameh

Rustam  (dying) shoots his half-brother who built the spear-pit that trapped him (1482)

300 years after Sasanian civilization was transformed by 7th Century Jihadists, the  poet, Ferdowsi, devoted his adult life to the world's longest epic poem in celebration of its emperors and heroes.   Unfortunately the entirety of that epic remains untranslated, but a substantial amount is now available, and it makes a fascinating contrast with the Hamzanama , the Indo-Persian epic that followed it.

For one thing -- it's not goofy and there's no low humor.  For another, there's no celebration of "the one true religion.  All speeches and correspondence begins with an invocation to God- but the arrival of Islam at the end of the poem is marked only by the line "and so the throne was replaced with the pulpit."  And, of course, rather than offering the enemy the options of "convert or die", that option was offered by the Muslim warlord  to the Sasanian's last great hero, who,  knowing that he was fated to lose the battle, chose "Hell and a narrow grave"

But there's also plenty that the two epics have in common, as they write about a world that celebrates bling, partying, and brute strength.  There's no warrior like Kongming ("Three Kingdoms") who triumphed by strategy. (though there is a clever vizier who learns how to play chess by simply looking at the pieces)

 Funeral of Isfandyrar  (tragically killed by Rustam) , 1330's

Qadimi (1520-1560), Turanians attack drunken Iranian camp

It's been many decades since I first saw illustrations like the above at the Met - but this is the first time I've finally read the stories they were based on.


There's only one fantastic/magical creature in the story -- the giant, benevolent, all-knowing Samurgh - and it, plus some other magical events is included in the stories of Rustam and his father, Zal.

But in the final centuries of Sasanian rule, the stories become more realistic, more about character and human behavior - especially the recurring problem of a battlefield hero serving an unwise and ungrateful ruler - a relationship  that also set the table for the Hamznama.

Of special note is the appearace of the egalitarian prophet, Mazdak who is presented as converting a gullible ruler until he and all his followers are buried alive, upside down in a garden by a wise prince.

But what about the prophet Mohammed ?

The introduction tells us that Ferdowsi was unquestionably Muslim -- but this epic poem seems markedly non-Islamlic.  The good kings, all pre-Islamic,  are presented as pious, true believers in one God, and the great tragedy of the entire poem is the arrival of the Prophet's armies.  It's leaders are not presented as monsters -- but their clothing is unfit for the Persian court - and as subsequent pictorializations confirm, physical appearance was highly cultivated.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

The Hamzanama

It feels like I've just spent as much time in the land of Indo-Persian mythology as poor Hamza spent wandering through the magical land of Qaf killing demons and siring half-human children.

It did get a bit tiring at times -- being based on a disparate oral tradition, there are multiple variations on the same stories - with each new giant a little bit bigger and each new monster a little bit meaner.

At it's core, is the contrast between the gullible but unstoppable mighty Hamza and his loyal companion, the clever, vicious, and equally undefeatable Amar the Ayyar.

Even though the Prophet does not appear until the few final pages, Hanza has spent the previous 800  converting warriors and kings to the one-true-faith --- by defeating them in battle and then making them an offer they cannot refuse.  If you needed any further documentation of Islam as a warlike creed, these popular stories would provide it.  In addition to declaring their new found faith, the defeated or rescued kings would also often offer Hamza their daughters in marriage -- so Hamza ended up with dozens of wives and super-hero sons (though I don't recall that he had more than one daughter).

One thing that's memorable is just how nasty his companion, Amar, could be.  As a child he poisons his teachers - as an adult he lies, cheats, steals, kills, poisons, and likes to play humiliating tricks on his enemies after he has sneeked into their tent and drugged them senseless.  For example, he might strip a father and son, and then place the one into the other's lap so that they will awake to discover themselves having anal sex.  A large section of the book involves him protecting Hamz's beautiful fiance while Hanza is gone -- and he does this by repeatedly entering a foritified city in disguise -- gaining the trust of the rulers -- and then killing them and moving into the castle with his followers.  He's about as repulsive as a man can be -- his loyalty to Hamza and Islam being his only positive features.

Also memorable are some of the women - they can be quite powerful and headstrong - most notably Hama's wife in Qaf, Aasman Peri, the daughter of a king saved by Hamza.  She doesn't want Hamza to ever leave her, so she threatens death to whomever tries to help him escape.  One might also note that the only woman whom Hamza ever fights is the only warrior who can defeat him, as she does in the final chapter, using a poison spear and then beheading him.

When he isn't killing men, Hamza is usually partying or honeymooning with one of his many wives.  He does like women - though he had to drown one who demanded too much attention.

Another extreme character is the Emperor of the Seven Climes who is saved by Hamza early in the epic, but tries to kill him ever after.  His resources seem to be as unlimited as his treachery, stupidity, and futility. They exemplify the antagonistic relationship between king and super-hero  (like Arthur and Lancelot) .

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Roy Mottahedeh : The Mantle of the Prophet

This is a curious book

Each chapter has two parts:  one that follows the life of a semi-fictional imam named Ali Hoshemi -- and the other that sketches out 1400 years of Iranian and Shia history.

Neither part is very satisfactory.

The story of Hoshemi is frail because he is almost completely outside the drama of the Iranian Revolution. Presumably, as a Shia jurisconsult, he benefits from the establishment of a theocratic state. But he doesn't participate in the rebellion beyond anonymously writing a pamphlet or two against the Shah that gets him thrown in jail for a few months. Nor does get involved with protecting anyone within the many political or religious factions persecuted and murdered by the Khomeini regime.

Like Mottahedeh himself -- he considers himself just a scholar.

He may be based on a real iman whom the author knows, but in the  necessary effort to keep his identity unknown, all of his possibly interesting peculiarities have been scrubbed away.  There is not one word about his extended family.

So there is hardly any story to tell about him beyond the following:

Smart boy wants to be a professional religious scholar (just like dad) --  he studies hard --- he gets a nice clerical position -- story over.

Likewise -- the author is so dispassionately lite-headed  about religious and political history,  I had some difficulty  not nodding off.  He is a little too concerned with projecting a positive attitude towards his subject.

As he explained in the introduction,  he wanted to write about the Shia higher clergy because their training and practice is so involved with logic -- applied, of course, to the interpretation of the Koran and subsequent authoritative texts.

He seems far less concerned with political power -- it's acquisition and  consequences.  That kind of story about the Iranian Revolution will have to  be found elsewhere.

The one thing I received from his book, however, is a greater appreciation for the Shah.  Most of his political prisoners survived -- while the Ayatollahs didn't make the same mistake.

Monday, September 09, 2013

Marjane Satrapi : Persepolis

Above is  Marjane Satrapi's depiction of  her first marriage -- and I can't imagine how words might better describe the discomfort of being close but distant with a mate one finds attractive.

Though given her self-centeredness, I am wondering how she could  stay married to anyone.

This is a fascinating book -- because Satrapi is self confident enough to depict  herself as a very difficult person, despite her many advantages.

She's really smart -- in math, languages, and graphic art.

Her parents are modern, prosperous, and well-educated but apparently immune to persecution by Muslim fundamentalists. (reminds me of some very smart industrialists who survived Maoism in China)

Her parents adore and support her -- as the only child of a quite distinguished family (her mother's father was royalty)

And yet -- her parents don't cling to her -- they encourage her to seek her destiny outside Iran, even if it means they will hardly ever see her again.

At the center of her story is the culture war between open-secular-permissive modern culture and closed-theocratic-restrictive fundamentalist Shia Islam.   Obviously she's a poster girl for the former, and just as obviously, she's not going to live in Iran.

And yet --- the picture she draws of herself is not very pretty.  Her primary virtue is how succinctly and honestly she reveals herself..  While it's surprising that she gets away with as much as she does -- the most glaring example being the mullah who approves her entry into university -- despite her sharp tongue.  ("if Allah were so concerned with women showing their hair, he would have made them bald")

I don't think her intransigence would have been quite so tolerated by the doctrinal purists who conducted the very secular Cultural Revolution in China.

As she suggests, some of these religious leaders actually are spiritual people who are uncomfortable with the hypocrisy that is the inevitable consequence of linking religion to politics -- and that has accompanied Islam ever since the Hijra.

If only she could have given us a more complete picture of her mother, father, and grandmother -- all of whom seem to be quite interesting.

But modern young person that she is -- her attention is all about  me-me-me.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Paigham Afaqui : Makaan

This celebrated Urdu novel is practically unreadable in an English translation that reads like it was  executed by  word-for-word software.  (even if the translator relates that he spent 9 nine years contemplating it)

But then maybe the original is just as difficult - because most of the text consists of  interior dialogues, and God knows that people usually don't think very grammatically.

The basic story is very simple.

A young medical student, Neera, living at home with her parents, is confronted by the tenant who lives upstairs. Soon after the death of her father, the tenant stops paying rent and decides that he would like to have the entire house for himself.  As I learned in "Pakistan: a Hard Country", the police and judicial systems of South Asia are notoriously corrupt -- so all the tenant has to do is pay them off, and then he can assault, terrorize, and even legally challenge his landlord until he gets what he wants.

The novel focuses on Neera's psychological growth -- as she must overcome feelings of fear, weakness, and despair.  She sends her aging mother away to live with distant relatives, and then she hunkers down to deal with all the challenges - which include graduating from medical school getting married. (her fiance was scared off by the tenant)

For the first hundred pages I kept wondering why she didn't just ditch the house and get on with her life. Was it really worth all that effort? But now I realize that it's about her identity as a woman - not her bank account - and this book is celebrated as a unique example of feminism in the Urdu language. (even if it was written by a man)

There are pages and pages of tedious, semi-religious interior dialogue in broken English, and concern for resolution was all that kept me reading --- so now I now must issue a Spoiler Alert.  If you intend to begin reading this book, it's time to stop reading this post. (though actually, it becomes clear early on that the soul of the intrepid young lady will emerge triumphant, even if she loses the house)


Regarding Neera:  Her ethnicity is indeterminate - at least to me - but her name suggests that her background is Hindu and Bengali.  And as her interior dialogues develop throughout the story, her inner life does seem to be Gods-are-in-me Hindu. She's the last person you'd ever expect to say "It is the will of Allah". But as a medical student, she has to be immersed in science-based  modern secular culture.  The triumph of her will could almost fit into an American  self-realization program like that of Tony Robbins - except that it seems to arise spontaneously within her - without any coaching.

Regarding the author: It's fascinating that he had a career in law enforcement. He experienced public corruption from within.  Possibly this book is his response to meeting a young woman like Neera and feeling the need to help her even if it cost him his job. He created a law enforcement character, Alok (also a Hindu name) who is fascinated by his need to help Neera.  But despite his high-mindedness and self-confidence in self control, he is easily drawn into the web of those who are attacking her.  He's wined - and dined - and fucked - and videos are made of his indiscretions.  By the logic of the narrative, it's not really important that he help her or not -- everybody who meets Neera wants to help her, eventually even the gangster kingpin. But still I'm bothered that his story is left unresolved.  When shown the tape, he reacts with curiosity rather than dismay - or as the gangster put it "I have shown that cassette to Alok. I could see what waves had been rising on his face. Instead of collapsing , they kept rising up, drawn tight like a bow string"

And now -- here are Neera's final words in her climactic confrontation with Ashok,  the gangster kingpin:

Ashok... I’m with you. Don’t be disturbed by the darkness that you have entered now after coming out from the radiance of the darkness. I’m there with you. I’m with you. You know well that I hadn’t come here to ask any help from you. I’d just come here to fight with you. I’d just come here to tell you how you had only been sitting contented here in your darkness. There is lots of room here for lights. Don’t be disturbed by the strange and unfamiliar dales (sic)  that you have to get largely involved with. You just remember me and my talks. The bushes will get cleared up by themselves and paths will get formed too. Even the slight changes in your attitude will take on the forms of big changes in the people. I’ll now wait for you. Will keep observing the things analytically. Of the journey that you set off toward. It’ll give me intense happiness. I’ll feel whatever you have been doing, isn’t being done by you at all. Rather, I'm the one who have been doing it. Believe it from today onward whatever you do.

As Ashok learns --- you don't mess with Neera!

Sunday, August 04, 2013

Manto : Kingdom's End and other Stories

This collection of short stories includes "Toba Sek Singh" which came highly recommend by the author of "Pakistan - A Hard Country".

That story got no further than its clever concept: the post-partition exchange of "lunatics" between India and Pakistan -- leading one to ask how lunacy might be determined in such a broken, crazy world.

Saadat Hassan Manto (1912-1955) was a journalist and Bollywood script writer who eventually moved to Pakistan -- and like many journalists, he seems to have been immersed in the daily grind of street life of bums, whores, madmen, junkies, and criminals -- on top of which, he lived through the sectarian riots that accompanied the 1948 Partition.

So his view of life is rather bleak- with a  gentle soul's sense of despair regarding life in a cruel, crazy, violent world. Not surprisingly, he became an alcoholic, accounting for his early death, as recounted in the final story as written by his nephew.

Most memorable was "Mozail", the story of a flirtatious young Jewish woman who teased and tormented her Sikh boyfriend before finally using her wits, and possibly sacrificing herself, to save him and his fiance from a murderous Muslim mob.  She may be the only positive primary character in the book -- and of course it's ironic that her ethic identity lets her move freely in a world where Hindus, Muslim, and Sikhs are all trying to rape, plunder, and murder each other.

I got the feeling that Jews and Sikhs were only superficially known by the author - so he shows us stereotypes.

The title story, which must have been the editor's favorite, concerns a Bollywood director who has retired  to live on the streets off the charity of friends.in the business. His self centered isolation is interrupted by an anonymous phone call that he receives while temporarily staying in the apartment of a friend. The female caller is apparently fascinated by his cheerful and inventive sense of loneliness -- and as they build a telephonic relationship his lonely kingdom is threatened.  The author resolves that problem by having him collapse and possibly die in some kind of paroxysm.  Like most of his stories, this one ends suddenly, grimly, surprisingly, and not very satisfactorily.

Just like the author's own life.

Most of these stories would appeal to a reader searching  for "just how bad can it get?"

And it can always get worse.

When he died, Manto was contemplating his next story as inspired by a newspaper account of a young woman and her child who were found naked and dead by the side of a road,  the victims of gang rape.

Extending for 26 pages, "Mummy" is the longest story in this collection -- and happily it concerns the gentler world of actors and writers in Bollywood.  Mummy is a widow who takes struggling creative people under her wing - but is eventually accused of pandering by the police and driven out of  town.

A farewell party is held for her - and in the final sentence one of her admirers is weeping: "Tears flowed in his eyes like corpses in a river"

How horrible to live where such an  image is so readily accessible.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Oxford India Ghalib

Mirza Ghalib (1797 - 1869) was an aristocratic Urdu/Persian poet who lived through the collapse of the Mughal empire and addressed himself to love and other personal concerns.

This compilation of essays sets the historical and literary context.

The history part is especially fascinating because Ghalib lived in Delhi when it was captured by the Sepoy mutiny and then later recaptured by the British.

He was defiantly non-political, and more than willing to solicit the patronage of either a Mughal Emperor or Queen Victoria. (the British queen thanked him politely, but paid him nothing)

Obviously, whatever got him recognized as one of the great poets of world literature, is going to be lost in translation

But here are a few of his couplets that I enjoyed:

 Simplicity so full of wiles! Such unaware awareness! When beauty shows indifference, then comes the testing time.

Now I must mourn the sacking of a city of desires. You broke the mirror that reflected all I looked to find.

The steed of life runs on. None knows where it will stay its course. The reins have fallen from our hands, the stirrups from our feet.

Our creed is "God is one", our cry "abandon rituals!" So that communities dissolve to constitute one faith.

Each of us is a world in which all kinds of fancies throng. I sit in an assembly even though I am alone

Though proud of his Islamic culture, he was defiantly anti clerical -- and only partially observant. (he drank wine, but he avoided pork)

His romantic world is that of a pleasure district very similar to the one in Shanghai described here

Apparently, his heart was broken in his twenties when his young courtesan/lover died - and he never quite got over it. I wouldn't be surprised if his life was something of a model for this novel , which is also set in a declining Delhi and features a dying young courtesan who breaks the heart of her aristocratic lover.

Not to be too judgmental of that lifestyle, but it does seem that his love poetry is hermetically self-centered on his own grief or disappointments, rather than any serious involvement with the life of the beloved.

There's not too many interests that we have in common

But he was mightily attracted to delicious, ripe mangoes - and though we never get such things in Chicago, I do love Trader Joe's mango sorbet.

Anatol Lieven - Pakistan, A Hard Country

Anatol Lieven is a professional journalist turned policy-wonk, and this book is his passionate plea for Americans to get out of the Islamic world or at least leave Pakistan alone.

So it focuses on the Taleban, currently the most successful fundamentalist Sunni militancy in the Islamic world.

As Lieven details it, Pakistan is such an ethnically and religiously fragmented country, the Taleban's only chance of toppling the national government is an American invasion -- and even then, their chance of replacing it with themselves is about zero. So there would just be chaos, similar to the collapse of Yugoslavia.

A summary of his argument can be found here

I never could figure out the landscape of political parties or dynasties that he maps out -- that would require a second reading accompanied by many searches on the internet.

Suffice it to say that the country is a crazy-quilt of local and sectarian interests. Islam offers the most widely shared kind of idealism, but its profoundly anti-democratic nature makes it more compatible with the warlords who first established it 1300 years ago than with the dynamics of a modern economy.

Pakistan seems to exemplify what a country would look like if it were run by competing Mafia dons. It certainly gives me a greater appreciation for the Chinese revolution -- which may have left 30 million dead, but at least left a united, prosperous, relatively peaceful body politic.

It also gave me a better appreciation for the Partition, which also left up to a million casualties, but also left a strong central power in Pakistan, the army, and something like a central government in India. As Lieven suggests, if Muslims had not had the opportunity to create their own neighboring state, India's national government would be much weaker than it is. BTW - most of the local corruption that he describes in Pakistan he attributes to India as well.

Most depressing is his description of the utterly corrupt condition of the Pakistani judiciary. It's so bad that even the unofficial courts of the Taleban are better. Every case is decided by money and political influence. And then there's the professional journalists who proliferate conspiracy theories as enthusiastically as the craziest American nut case.

The central government is also helpless to improve infrastructure -- every project is a scam -- so the electrical grid is a disaster and nothing is being done to fend off the even more serious disasters of drought and flood, the consequences of climate change and deforestation -- all while the population continues to skyrocket.

The best part of this book is its anecdotal detail, accumulated over 20 years of periodic visits.

For example the last ruler of the princely state of Swat is still remembered as doing a much better job of ruling than the Pakistani bureaucrats who replaced him. He was definited not the febrile, womanizing idiot described in this novel