For a semester now we have visited once a week this course called Iranian Culture in Translation. In this relatively short time we have been exposed to an enormous amount of material regarding modern Iran, and although it has been daunting, it has also been fun and incredibly informative. Though I feel we've only really scratched the surface of this experience, I think that we've gotten a good taste of the complexities of both Iran culture proper, and the translation of that culture out of its native Farsi and into other languages.
For me, translation more than any other aspect of this class is the defining issue of a course such as this. Within any language interpretation is a constant stumbling block to understanding, and a constant re-negotiation is necessary to come to common ground in any exchange. Add to that the complexity of navigating completely different words, phrases, and idioms all conditioned by vastly different world-views and you have a recipe for major confusion and doubt. Still, when all is said and done we do manage to come to a general understanding, and enlightenment despite cross-cultural difficulties, largely because art is the meta-language of the human species, and it is through the artistic mediums explored in our course that these various, authors, filmmakers, musicians, and poets have presented their world to us.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
"The Wind Carpet"
The difficulty of cross-cultural translation and navigation is the persistent theme of Kamal Tabrizi's 2003 film "The Wind Carpet" (Kaze no Juutan). Acbal and Makoto, two old college friends, find themselves enmeshed in a clash of cultures as Acbal and his cadre of family and friends try to complete the production of a persian rug designed by Makoto's wife shortly before her death. The making of the rug which was entrusted to Acbal, is initially left undone. Greatly complicating the matter is the looming deadline of the carpet's return to Japan for display in a major Japanese festival, and the enormous sentimental value of the rug to Sakura, Makoto's daughter who was particularly close to her mother and was present at her sudden death.
Acbal, worried for his friend's sanity and safety is reluctant to tell him that the carpet has not been completed as promised and assuages Makoto's growing suspicion with a constant brage of "daijoubu, daijoubu" (Everything's fine. No worries).But all is not "daijoubu" and forced by his wife to fess up Acbal proceeds to reassure Makoto that all will be "daijoubu"though he has no clue how he can rectify the problem.
It is the young love of a boy, Ruzbe, that sets in motion the process of getting the carpet completed. Ruzbe and Sakura make a meta-linguistic connection the moment they set eyes on one another, and for a time he is the only one who seems to provoke a positive response from this despondent young girl.
The overarching message of 'love can conquer all' seems to be the point of this film. It is engaging, funny, and sad though a bit over-the-top in terms of sentimentality. Humor is affected through the myriad of cultural misunderstandings that inevitably happen as Japan and Iran clash, but it is love that both bridges the gaps of understanding and saves the day in the end.
Acbal, worried for his friend's sanity and safety is reluctant to tell him that the carpet has not been completed as promised and assuages Makoto's growing suspicion with a constant brage of "daijoubu, daijoubu" (Everything's fine. No worries).But all is not "daijoubu" and forced by his wife to fess up Acbal proceeds to reassure Makoto that all will be "daijoubu"though he has no clue how he can rectify the problem.
It is the young love of a boy, Ruzbe, that sets in motion the process of getting the carpet completed. Ruzbe and Sakura make a meta-linguistic connection the moment they set eyes on one another, and for a time he is the only one who seems to provoke a positive response from this despondent young girl.
The overarching message of 'love can conquer all' seems to be the point of this film. It is engaging, funny, and sad though a bit over-the-top in terms of sentimentality. Humor is affected through the myriad of cultural misunderstandings that inevitably happen as Japan and Iran clash, but it is love that both bridges the gaps of understanding and saves the day in the end.
Friday, April 18, 2008
The Tragedy of Sorhab and Rostam
The Tragedy of Sorhab and Rostam is a thoroughly engaging tale told in the epic style. Its dates of origin are indeterminate but we know that it is just one episode in a much larger story of the Iranian national epic commonly referred to as the Shahname. The Tragedy of Sorhab and Rostam, boiled down to its most elemental state, is the story of a great warrior father who meets his equally great warrior son in battle and, after a fierce engagement of arms father mortally wounds son. The two combatants do not come to know of one another's true identities until it is too late, and the son reveals his name and heritage to the father shortly before he passes over to the other side. The actual story is, of course, more detailed and despite the prose form of this particular translation the story is nonetheless beautiful. I would really like to find a good verse translation to see how differently it might read.
My favorite part of this tale is that it so closely resembles the tale of Cuchulain and Conlaoch, an ancient Celtic myth chronicling the same tragedy of a father and son who meet in battle and, after long drawn out confrontation father triumphs over son. Go to http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cuch/lgc21.htm for the full story of Cuchulain and Conlaoch. If I had the time I would research the connections between these two myths and the larger epics in which they reside. It would also be interesting to see how many other cultures have a similar tragedy as part of their lore.
My favorite part of this tale is that it so closely resembles the tale of Cuchulain and Conlaoch, an ancient Celtic myth chronicling the same tragedy of a father and son who meet in battle and, after long drawn out confrontation father triumphs over son. Go to http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cuch/lgc21.htm for the full story of Cuchulain and Conlaoch. If I had the time I would research the connections between these two myths and the larger epics in which they reside. It would also be interesting to see how many other cultures have a similar tragedy as part of their lore.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Nafisi in Context
My first reading of Azar Nafisi's "Reading Lolita in Tehran" was my introduction to Iranian culture, the Iranian revolution of 1979, and the Iran/Iraq war. It was also one of the factors that influenced my choice to enroll in the Iranian Culture in Translation class. Having done a second (partial reading) of Nafisi I am struck by the consistency that her story has with those of some of the other writers we have read this semester. Especially in light of the comments made by Seyed Mohammad Marandi (see my last 2 blog entries) regarding there veracity of some of the claims made (specifically) by Nafisi and Marjane Satrapi in "Persepolis" these consistencies bring into question the claims of Marandi as well as open up the additional question of what other perspectives might we be missing in the West vis-a-vis modern and contemporary Iran. Whether we agree or disagree with Marandi's claims against these authors he does at least offer the possibility of a significantly different point of view regarding the current government in Iran.
That said, the fact that so many authors report such similar facts surrounding the revolution, government practices before and after the revolution, and the execution of the Iran/Iraq war leads me to place even more faith in Nafisi's account than I might have initially. For those of us in the Iranian Culture class who have had the opportunity to read a breadth of works on contemporary Iran Nafisi does not offer much new in terms of information. As stated above her accounts are pretty consistent with the likes of Satrapi, Hakakian, and Ebadi. What is of value in "Reading Lolita in Tehran" is Nafisi's ability to zero in on particular people and bring them to life for us. It's hard to come away and not feel a personal acquaintance with her "girls" and the particular issues consuming their individual lives, and that, more than what it tells us about contemporary Iran, is a what makes this book worth the time invested.
That said, the fact that so many authors report such similar facts surrounding the revolution, government practices before and after the revolution, and the execution of the Iran/Iraq war leads me to place even more faith in Nafisi's account than I might have initially. For those of us in the Iranian Culture class who have had the opportunity to read a breadth of works on contemporary Iran Nafisi does not offer much new in terms of information. As stated above her accounts are pretty consistent with the likes of Satrapi, Hakakian, and Ebadi. What is of value in "Reading Lolita in Tehran" is Nafisi's ability to zero in on particular people and bring them to life for us. It's hard to come away and not feel a personal acquaintance with her "girls" and the particular issues consuming their individual lives, and that, more than what it tells us about contemporary Iran, is a what makes this book worth the time invested.
Friday, March 21, 2008
A Man With a Country
Currently I am the process of rereading Azar Nafisi's "Reading Lolita in Tehran" with an eye toward writing a short blog review of it, but today my attention was directed toward an interview conducted by the online magazine Guernica (http://www.guernicamag.com), of Iranian professor Seyed Mohammad Marandi head of the North American Studies graduate program at the University of Tehran. In this interview Marandi is particularly critical of both Nafisi and Marjane Satrapi's "Persepolis", specifically accusing both of "gross distortions of Iran", and being "deeply flawed and contain[ing] dubious material". Pressed by the interviewer Marandi goes on to list a couple of the inaccuracies in these memoirs and asserts that no standard of verification seems to be required by the writers or editors.
There are many comments one might make in regard to Mr. Marandi's assertions, but what most intrigues me is how reality is woven and rewoven with words. Marandi's comments implicate not only the authors of these memoirs, (and like memoirs) of willful distortion, but explicates a collusion amongst American publishers to only represent Iran in a certain way, thus reinforcing the distorted view we have cultivated here in the west. But the tenor of his comments leads me to believe that he cultivates his own distorted view of America among his students in Iran, focusing on America as a simplistic political entity and not recognizing it's rich cultural variety, or the ability of it's citizens to hold complex and multiple ideological views of Iran. I don't know if this is a fact but it certainly is the impression his comments leave me with.
The point here is that all accounts of reality are edited to fit the intent of the author. Individual experiences are just that, individual, and will therefore always have a particular slant or bias. Mix in the selective nature of memory and we have a recipe for distortion. Editorial is inevitable and ALL history/story is a distortion. The best we can do in lieu of a personal experience is read broadly and across ideological spectrums, and try to ferret out the 'facts' and weave together the common themes. This is the closest we ever come to historical "truth".
There are many comments one might make in regard to Mr. Marandi's assertions, but what most intrigues me is how reality is woven and rewoven with words. Marandi's comments implicate not only the authors of these memoirs, (and like memoirs) of willful distortion, but explicates a collusion amongst American publishers to only represent Iran in a certain way, thus reinforcing the distorted view we have cultivated here in the west. But the tenor of his comments leads me to believe that he cultivates his own distorted view of America among his students in Iran, focusing on America as a simplistic political entity and not recognizing it's rich cultural variety, or the ability of it's citizens to hold complex and multiple ideological views of Iran. I don't know if this is a fact but it certainly is the impression his comments leave me with.
The point here is that all accounts of reality are edited to fit the intent of the author. Individual experiences are just that, individual, and will therefore always have a particular slant or bias. Mix in the selective nature of memory and we have a recipe for distortion. Editorial is inevitable and ALL history/story is a distortion. The best we can do in lieu of a personal experience is read broadly and across ideological spectrums, and try to ferret out the 'facts' and weave together the common themes. This is the closest we ever come to historical "truth".
Check this out
The following is an excerpt from an interview on the online magazine Guernica with Seyed Mohammad Marandi head of the North American Studies graduate program at the University of Tehran. You can find the full interview here: http://www.guernicamag.com/interviews/506/teaching_north_american_studie/. I copied this excerpt because it refers to some of the content in "Reading Lolita in Tehran" and "Persepolis". Checkout the entire interview if you get the chance. Enjoy!
Guernica: Can you give an example or two of distortions that you believe are found in books like Reading Lolita in Tehran or Persepolis?
Seyed Mohammad Marandi: I don’t know where to begin. Nafisi is one of the few people, including Saddam Hussein, who claim that the Iranians were the “perpetrators” of the war (page 209). She makes the ludicrous claim that ten- to 16-year-old Iranian military combatants carried out “human wave” attacks (208) and were promised “keys to a heaven where they could finally enjoy all the pleasures from which they have abstained in life” (209). As a veteran of that war, in which Saddam Hussein, with the backing of western powers, invaded Iran and used weapons of mass destruction against Iranian civilians and combatants, I would like to see some of these keys or other evidence to support these absurd claims.
She also claims that in Iranian prisons they married the virgins off to the guards, who would later execute them. The philosophy behind this act was that if they were killed as virgins, they would go to heaven (page 212). Of course, such systematic acts of rape never took place, but more important is the fact that no such philosophy exists except in the mind of Nafisi and other like-minded people.
What makes these bizarre accusations especially significant and dangerous is that Nafisi falsely associates them with Islam and the ideology of those whom she opposes. She does not feel the need to provide evidence to support her accusations. In fact, many of the quotes in her work are inaccurate, misleading, or altogether nonexistent, as a search through the complete works of Ayatollah Khomeini will reveal. It seems that people such as Nafisi are so sure of the unexamined reception of anything even smacking of opposition to the Islamic Revolution and Islam in general or any kind of hype about Iran, that they do not deem it necessary to give at least a touch of credibility to their claims… The same is true about Persepolis.
By dehumanizing others these people are aiding the neocons and other forces of darkness to justify more war...
Guernica: What kind of evidence can you offer to back up these distortions you cite? I’m particularly interested in the “keys to heaven” (depicted in the new movie Persepolis) and systematic rape of female prisoners. Has there been any serious historical research into these claims?
Seyed Mohammad Marandi: There is no need for historical research. The war didn’t take place a thousand years ago. Over a million Iranians served at one time or another in the war fronts and most of them are living ordinary lives today and are available for interviews. These stories are largely unknown in Iran and when I tell them to my friends or students they usually laugh. If one were to claim that the U.S. occupation forces in Iraq have been provided with “keys to heaven” by the Pentagon, would that need historical research to be disproved or would you just say, “That’s just propaganda”? Indeed, how can you disprove the claim that U.S. soldiers have such keys? Or why should you disprove such ridiculous claims? It is the accusers who must provide the evidence. However, unlike some of my friends and students, I don’t think it’s a laughing matter. I think it is frightening to see what outrageous stories can be told in the United States and then are accepted by many educated people and academics as facts. Movies get awards, books become best sellers, heroes are made, and people become wealthy as a result of dishonest caricatures of Iranian people and society. By dehumanizing others, among many other things, these people are also aiding the neocons and other forces of darkness to justify more war, more suffering, and more destruction.
Guernica: Can you give an example or two of distortions that you believe are found in books like Reading Lolita in Tehran or Persepolis?
Seyed Mohammad Marandi: I don’t know where to begin. Nafisi is one of the few people, including Saddam Hussein, who claim that the Iranians were the “perpetrators” of the war (page 209). She makes the ludicrous claim that ten- to 16-year-old Iranian military combatants carried out “human wave” attacks (208) and were promised “keys to a heaven where they could finally enjoy all the pleasures from which they have abstained in life” (209). As a veteran of that war, in which Saddam Hussein, with the backing of western powers, invaded Iran and used weapons of mass destruction against Iranian civilians and combatants, I would like to see some of these keys or other evidence to support these absurd claims.
She also claims that in Iranian prisons they married the virgins off to the guards, who would later execute them. The philosophy behind this act was that if they were killed as virgins, they would go to heaven (page 212). Of course, such systematic acts of rape never took place, but more important is the fact that no such philosophy exists except in the mind of Nafisi and other like-minded people.
What makes these bizarre accusations especially significant and dangerous is that Nafisi falsely associates them with Islam and the ideology of those whom she opposes. She does not feel the need to provide evidence to support her accusations. In fact, many of the quotes in her work are inaccurate, misleading, or altogether nonexistent, as a search through the complete works of Ayatollah Khomeini will reveal. It seems that people such as Nafisi are so sure of the unexamined reception of anything even smacking of opposition to the Islamic Revolution and Islam in general or any kind of hype about Iran, that they do not deem it necessary to give at least a touch of credibility to their claims… The same is true about Persepolis.
By dehumanizing others these people are aiding the neocons and other forces of darkness to justify more war...
Guernica: What kind of evidence can you offer to back up these distortions you cite? I’m particularly interested in the “keys to heaven” (depicted in the new movie Persepolis) and systematic rape of female prisoners. Has there been any serious historical research into these claims?
Seyed Mohammad Marandi: There is no need for historical research. The war didn’t take place a thousand years ago. Over a million Iranians served at one time or another in the war fronts and most of them are living ordinary lives today and are available for interviews. These stories are largely unknown in Iran and when I tell them to my friends or students they usually laugh. If one were to claim that the U.S. occupation forces in Iraq have been provided with “keys to heaven” by the Pentagon, would that need historical research to be disproved or would you just say, “That’s just propaganda”? Indeed, how can you disprove the claim that U.S. soldiers have such keys? Or why should you disprove such ridiculous claims? It is the accusers who must provide the evidence. However, unlike some of my friends and students, I don’t think it’s a laughing matter. I think it is frightening to see what outrageous stories can be told in the United States and then are accepted by many educated people and academics as facts. Movies get awards, books become best sellers, heroes are made, and people become wealthy as a result of dishonest caricatures of Iranian people and society. By dehumanizing others, among many other things, these people are also aiding the neocons and other forces of darkness to justify more war, more suffering, and more destruction.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
"Embroideries"
No suspense or deep revelation of the human condition are presented to us in Marjane Satrapi's "Embroideries". Just an afternoon of frank conversation between a group of "experienced" Iranian women over after-lunch tea in post-revolution Iran. Unlike her better known "Persepolis" and "Persepolis 2", in "Embroideries" there is no plot to pull the reader along as Satrapi instead holds the readers attention through interesting and humorous dialogue between the group of women who make up her mother's and grandmother's cohort. Imagine if the producers of the hit television show "Desperate Housewives" commissioned Satrapi to write an episode for it's international pilot. That's "Embroideries".
In this work Marjane Satrapi essentially swaps the wide-angle lens of "Persepolis" for a zoom lens, focusing on a particular aspect of her life in Tehran, detailing the racy conversations the women partook in after the men went to there post-meal naps, and rest assured"Desperate Housewives" has nothing on these women in terms of language or subject-matter. Comparing the tenor, subject-matter, and sometimes the ruthlessness of the conversation of these women to the gossip sessions and kaffee klatchen of western women one can only conclude that the lives of women in Iran bare more similarities than differences to their counterparts in the West. Perhaps there is one revelation of the human condition presented after all; women everywhere need to carve out a space of their own to fully express themselves and be understood.
In this work Marjane Satrapi essentially swaps the wide-angle lens of "Persepolis" for a zoom lens, focusing on a particular aspect of her life in Tehran, detailing the racy conversations the women partook in after the men went to there post-meal naps, and rest assured"Desperate Housewives" has nothing on these women in terms of language or subject-matter. Comparing the tenor, subject-matter, and sometimes the ruthlessness of the conversation of these women to the gossip sessions and kaffee klatchen of western women one can only conclude that the lives of women in Iran bare more similarities than differences to their counterparts in the West. Perhaps there is one revelation of the human condition presented after all; women everywhere need to carve out a space of their own to fully express themselves and be understood.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Café Transit (Border Café)
The text or story of Café Transit is pretty straightforward: Reyhan is newly widowed with two young children and wants nothing more than to be left to her own devices and run the restaurant left behind by her husband. However, Nasser her brother-in-law desires Reyhan to leave her home and move into his house, as is the custom of the village. Reyhan has no desire to relent to this tradition and continually declines the offers of her brother-in-law, angering him and his younger brother Karim.
Reyhan eventually reopens the restaurant with the help of her husband’s business partner and, to the consternation of Nasser it soon becomes a great success. Many regulars and interesting characters are touched by their experience with Reyhan and for a short while she is happy. The story comes to a head when Nasser appeals to the law of the community to close down Reyhan’s restaurant. Despite her best efforts the judge appointed to decide between the disputants rules against Reyhan and the restaurant is shut down.
At its core Café Transit can be seen as a commentary on control. It can be seen as the struggle for feminism in Iran. It can be seen as a love story, or as the clash of old and new world values. One of the measures of a great work of art is its ability to evoke multiple meanings and invite new readings with each new exposure. Café Transit lends itself well to the post-modern inclination of granting to the audience the privilege of reading into a work of art whatever they believe to be it’s purpose or intent. Of course there is a limit to what one can legitimately claim as the telos of a work of art, but great art has the ability to resonate on some wavelength with the particular experiences of a multiplicity of audience members, illuminating some truth for any given individual. So, depending on where we are in our own life’s journey we may see in Café Transit a love story, or a feminist struggle, or a story of domination and control, or a clash of cultures.
When all is said and done Café Transit is above all an entertaining, moving, and thought -provoking film. It is well acted, well written, and smartly directed. It has the beauty and economy of a Hemingway novel, never going for the easy sell of pulling in the audience through over-wrought sentimentalism or heightened suspense. Instead, like all great storytelling it trusts in its humanity to resonate across languages and cultures, connecting to us through the universality of authentic human experience.
Reyhan eventually reopens the restaurant with the help of her husband’s business partner and, to the consternation of Nasser it soon becomes a great success. Many regulars and interesting characters are touched by their experience with Reyhan and for a short while she is happy. The story comes to a head when Nasser appeals to the law of the community to close down Reyhan’s restaurant. Despite her best efforts the judge appointed to decide between the disputants rules against Reyhan and the restaurant is shut down.
At its core Café Transit can be seen as a commentary on control. It can be seen as the struggle for feminism in Iran. It can be seen as a love story, or as the clash of old and new world values. One of the measures of a great work of art is its ability to evoke multiple meanings and invite new readings with each new exposure. Café Transit lends itself well to the post-modern inclination of granting to the audience the privilege of reading into a work of art whatever they believe to be it’s purpose or intent. Of course there is a limit to what one can legitimately claim as the telos of a work of art, but great art has the ability to resonate on some wavelength with the particular experiences of a multiplicity of audience members, illuminating some truth for any given individual. So, depending on where we are in our own life’s journey we may see in Café Transit a love story, or a feminist struggle, or a story of domination and control, or a clash of cultures.
When all is said and done Café Transit is above all an entertaining, moving, and thought -provoking film. It is well acted, well written, and smartly directed. It has the beauty and economy of a Hemingway novel, never going for the easy sell of pulling in the audience through over-wrought sentimentalism or heightened suspense. Instead, like all great storytelling it trusts in its humanity to resonate across languages and cultures, connecting to us through the universality of authentic human experience.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Queens and Kings
Substance is King. Style is Queen. When their rule is shared equally, tranquility reigns. When one is privileged over the other, balance is thrown off and discord arises. A deception takes place. So, as I reflect on Roya Hakakian’s “Journey from the Land of No”, I would do well to remember that it is both Art and Journalism - manifestations of style and substance. In terms of it’s content “Journey from the Land of No” presents a picture of the Iranian revolution of 1979, its antecedents, and subsequent outcomes, consistent with similar texts on the subject such as “Persepolis”, “Funny in Farsi”, and “Reading Lolita in Tehran”. This is all the more amazing because all of these books are so divergent in style.
“Journey from the Land of No” is a stylized presentation of reality. Roya Hakakian filters her story through a romantic lens, presenting us with a perfect family residing in a perfect community, nestled in a perfect country. Then, chapter-by-chapter the perfection slowly erodes, the surface beauty is peeled away until we suddenly find ourselves in the least wonderful place on earth. We begin in a child's utopia and end in an unspecified circle of Dante’s Inferno. Throughout the tour Roya never removes the romantic filter through which she views and conveys her experience. What she chooses to omit is as important as what she choose to highlight. Style is shaped through a careful sculpting of substance, and we are left with a highly refined vision of life in pre/post revolutionary Iran. Like an adult re-living her past through the eyes of her childhood, quotidian and mundane encounters are re-presented as sublime and fantastic, resulting in a distortion of the Iranian experience such that the reader is forced (or fooled) into interpreting the life of all Iranians as idyllic romance or perilous adventure. Hakakian gives us melodrama, which makes for great story telling but leaves the true nature of Iranian life to be told by fiction writers.
“Journey from the Land of No” is a stylized presentation of reality. Roya Hakakian filters her story through a romantic lens, presenting us with a perfect family residing in a perfect community, nestled in a perfect country. Then, chapter-by-chapter the perfection slowly erodes, the surface beauty is peeled away until we suddenly find ourselves in the least wonderful place on earth. We begin in a child's utopia and end in an unspecified circle of Dante’s Inferno. Throughout the tour Roya never removes the romantic filter through which she views and conveys her experience. What she chooses to omit is as important as what she choose to highlight. Style is shaped through a careful sculpting of substance, and we are left with a highly refined vision of life in pre/post revolutionary Iran. Like an adult re-living her past through the eyes of her childhood, quotidian and mundane encounters are re-presented as sublime and fantastic, resulting in a distortion of the Iranian experience such that the reader is forced (or fooled) into interpreting the life of all Iranians as idyllic romance or perilous adventure. Hakakian gives us melodrama, which makes for great story telling but leaves the true nature of Iranian life to be told by fiction writers.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. We orient our hopes toward an endless series of tomorrows and root our dreams in an irretrievable return to yesterday, and somewhere between our rising and sleeping we sail through Today, scarcely paying heed or due respect to Today's rightful dominion. And yet, the presence of Today is all that we have. It is all that is, the only thing approximating true reality. Only in those rare instances when we allow ourselves the indulgence of friends and festivity do we fall into accord with the moment, Today's handmaiden. Throughout the span of human history our occasional awakenings to this moment in time are often accompanied by Dionysus's gift of Wine. In the Bacchanalian spirt of giving ourselves over to the moment we are enjoined; "Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring, The Winter Garment of Repentance fling", and thus we are granted a brief reprieve from our Sisyphean labors, momentarily allowing life! to intrude upon our living.
Edward Fitzgerald's translation of The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám reads as an ode to the son of Zeus and Semele, imploring us to seize the moment and indulge. Wine, Women and Song are the order of the day as Khayyám commands: "Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup, Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry." Omar Khayyám understands the transience of life and sets his sights on awakening his readers to the importance of not now, but "right now".
Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultán's Turret in a Noose of Light.
Like cold water to the face Khayyám's opening quadrille jolts us: "Awake!" Here the poet makes manifest to us the recognition that we are sleeping our way through our waking life, and the pervasive sentiment of the poem is that life passes quickly, so grab a goblet, quaff a dram, and enjoy the moment!
But beware! Reading The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám might just inspire a weekend debauch from which you may not recover.
Edward Fitzgerald's translation of The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám reads as an ode to the son of Zeus and Semele, imploring us to seize the moment and indulge. Wine, Women and Song are the order of the day as Khayyám commands: "Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup, Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry." Omar Khayyám understands the transience of life and sets his sights on awakening his readers to the importance of not now, but "right now".
Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultán's Turret in a Noose of Light.
Like cold water to the face Khayyám's opening quadrille jolts us: "Awake!" Here the poet makes manifest to us the recognition that we are sleeping our way through our waking life, and the pervasive sentiment of the poem is that life passes quickly, so grab a goblet, quaff a dram, and enjoy the moment!
But beware! Reading The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám might just inspire a weekend debauch from which you may not recover.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Idealism and Coercion
Idealism is the first form or iteration of coercion. Why is it that the intellectuals are always the first to be purged after a revolution? Because intellectualism invites questions, questions raise skepticism, and skepticism pierces the fragile skin of over-blown ideals releasing the hot air and bringing the whole enterprise crashing down to earth. Close inspection of the remains of a failed ideal reveals the impossibility of its mechanics for practical purposes.
Coercive idealism is beautiful in its stealth; a devil in angles vestment. The halo shines so brightly that the horns are hidden in the beam of its rays. Thus garbed the messenger can deliver his directive without suspicion of coercion. Indeed, the subjects are all too willing to act bringing into question whether a coercion is taking place at all. So the question arises: when the victim has a hand in his own tragedy through a willful suspension of skepticism, who bears responsibility, the dupe or the duper?
Persepolis brings this question to the fore as it presents to us a nation of a willing many swept up in the fervor for change, all too eager to buy into the rhetoric of an idealist and ideologue, suspending reason for hope. When oppression is ripe and revolution is in the air it is all too easy to be lead astray by the beauty of words, and the power of words, and one can lose ones sense of practical reason. Marjane’s father exemplifies this when he dismisses the possibility of a repressive theocratic regime in the face of rhetoric that leads to that logical conclusion. Instead, lulled by his Marxist belief in the good of revolution, and the zeitgeist of the moment he erroneously concludes that all will work out well for Iran and Iranian freedom.
Hindsight has shown that the Iran so many wanted and wished for during the revolution was not realized. One yoke of oppression was thrown over at the service of a new oppressor. Whether the new oppressor is better or worse than the old one is up for debate. But, what is not debatable is that as we inspect the remains of the Iranian revolutionary apparatus, the ideals and hopes of people like the Satrapis were never realized.
Oh History, are we forever doomed to ignore your lessons?
Coercive idealism is beautiful in its stealth; a devil in angles vestment. The halo shines so brightly that the horns are hidden in the beam of its rays. Thus garbed the messenger can deliver his directive without suspicion of coercion. Indeed, the subjects are all too willing to act bringing into question whether a coercion is taking place at all. So the question arises: when the victim has a hand in his own tragedy through a willful suspension of skepticism, who bears responsibility, the dupe or the duper?
Persepolis brings this question to the fore as it presents to us a nation of a willing many swept up in the fervor for change, all too eager to buy into the rhetoric of an idealist and ideologue, suspending reason for hope. When oppression is ripe and revolution is in the air it is all too easy to be lead astray by the beauty of words, and the power of words, and one can lose ones sense of practical reason. Marjane’s father exemplifies this when he dismisses the possibility of a repressive theocratic regime in the face of rhetoric that leads to that logical conclusion. Instead, lulled by his Marxist belief in the good of revolution, and the zeitgeist of the moment he erroneously concludes that all will work out well for Iran and Iranian freedom.
Hindsight has shown that the Iran so many wanted and wished for during the revolution was not realized. One yoke of oppression was thrown over at the service of a new oppressor. Whether the new oppressor is better or worse than the old one is up for debate. But, what is not debatable is that as we inspect the remains of the Iranian revolutionary apparatus, the ideals and hopes of people like the Satrapis were never realized.
Oh History, are we forever doomed to ignore your lessons?
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Hello everyone
I am Chuck. Or Charles if you prefer. NEVER Charlie. For general personal info check out the profile thingy on my blog. Aside from that scintillating profile I don't think there's much else of interest to share. Questions? just ask. peace.
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