Letters

Letters 08-31-2015

Inalienable Rights This is a response to the “No More State Theatre” in your August 24th edition. I think I will not be the only response to this pathetic and narrow-minded letter that seems rather out of place in the northern Michigan that I know. To think we will not be getting your 25 cents for the movie you refused to see, but more importantly we will be without your “two cents” on your thoughts of a marriage at the State Theatre...

Enthusiastically Democratic Since I was one of the approximately 160 people present at when Senator Debbie Stabenow spoke on August 14 in Charlevoix, I was surprised to read in a letter to Northern Express that there was a “rather muted” response to Debbie’s announcement that she has endorsed Hillary Clinton for president...

Not Hurting I surely think the State Theatre will survive not having the homophobic presence of Colleen Smith and her family attend any matinees. I think “Ms.” Smith might also want to make sure that any medical personnel, bank staff, grocery store staff, waiters and/or waitress, etc. are not homosexual before accepting any service or product from them...

Stay Home I did not know whether to laugh or cry when I read the letter of the extremely homophobic, “disgusted” writer. She now refuses to patronize the State Theatre because she evidently feels that its confines have been poisoned by the gay wedding ceremony held there...

Keep Away In response to Colleen Smith of Cadillac who refused to bring her family to the State Theatre because there was a gay wedding there: Keep your 25 cents and your family out of Traverse City...

Celebrating Moore And A Theatre I was 10 years old when I had the privilege to see my first film at the State Theatre. I will never forget that experience. The screen was almost the size of my bedroom I shared with my older sister. The bursting sounds made me believe I was part of the film...

Outdated Thinking This letter is in response to Colleen Smith. She made public her choice to no longer go to the State Theater due to the fact that “some homosexuals” got married there. I’m not outraged by her choice; we don’t need any more hateful, self-righteous bigots in our town. She can keep her 25 cents...

Mackinac Pipeline Must Be Shut Down Crude oil flowing through Enbridge’s 60-yearold pipeline beneath the Mackinac Straits and the largest collection of fresh water on the planet should be a serious concern for every resident of the USA and Canada. Enbridge has a very “accident” prone track record...

Your Rights To Colleen, who wrote about the State Theatre: Let me thank you for sharing your views; I think most of us are well in support of the first amendment, because as you know- it gives everyone the opportunity to express their opinions. I also wanted to thank Northern Express for not shutting down these types of letters right at the source but rather giving the community a platform for education...

No Role Model [Fascinating Person from last week’s issue] Jada quoted: “I want to be a role model for girls who are interested in being in the outdoors.” I enjoy being in the outdoors, but I don’t want to kill animals for trophy...

Home · Articles · News · Books · Secret Studies -- The Hazards of...
. . . .

Secret Studies -- The Hazards of Reading Lolita in Tehran

Nancy Sundstrom - August 19th, 2004
Recently released in paperback is a book that deserved more attention than it earned when it was released in hardcover late last year. The tome has the provocative title of “Reading Lolita in Tehran,” and it has been rightfully hailed by other critics as a powerful and moving merge of memoir, political commentary and literary criticism. Though it is hardly a beach read, the fact that it is now available in paperback might help bring this insightful and provocative book the audience it should have had from the onset.
The author is Azar Nafisi, an intelligent female (two strikes right there) professor who resigned from her job at the university in Tehran in 1995, primarily as a form of protest to the institution’s remarkably repressive policies in regards to just about everything.
Once she became free of the Orwellian environment under which she had worked and attempted to educate her students, she secretly organized a group of seven of her brightest and most open-minded female students to gather with her once a week in her home to study and discuss classic works of western literature that had been banned from even mentioning in her classroom. For the next two years, under a fair amount of appropriate paranoia, they devoured works by the likes of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Henry James, Jane Austen and Vladimir Nabakov, the author of the aforementioned “Lolita” in the title.
In the first chapter, Nafisi immediately engages the reader by describing the tension under which she began her risky literary enterprise:

“In the fall of 1995, after resigning from my last academic post, I decided to indulge myself and fulfill a dream. I chose seven of my best and most committed students and invited them to come to my home every Thursday morning to discuss literature. They were all women -- to teach a mixed class in the privacy of my home was too risky, even if we were discussing harmless works of fiction. One persistent male student, although barred from our class, insisted on his rights. So he, Nima, read the assigned material, and on special days he would come to my house to talk about the books we were reading.
I often teasingly reminded my students of Muriel Spark’s “The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie,” and asked, which one of you will finally betray me? For I am a pessimist by nature and I was sure at least one would turn against me. Nassrin once responded mischievously, you yourself told us that in the final analysis we are our own betrayers, playing Judas to our own Christ.
Manna pointed out that I was no Miss Brodie, and they, well, they were what they were. She reminded me of a warning I was fond of repeating: do not, under any circumstances, belittle a work of fiction by trying to turn it into a carbon copy of real life; what we search for in fiction is not so much reality but the epiphany of truth. Yet I suppose that if I were to go against my own recommendation and choose a work of fiction that would most resonate with our lives in the Islamic Republic of Iran, it would not be “The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie” or even “1984” but perhaps Nabokov’s “Invitation to a Beheading” or better yet, “Lolita.”
A couple of years after we had begun our Thursday-morning seminars, on the last night I was in Tehran, a few friends and students came to say good-bye and to help me pack. When we had deprived the house of all its items, when the objects had vanished and the colors had faded into eight gray suitcases, like errant genies evaporating into their bottles, my students and I stood against the bare white wall of the dining room and took two photographs.
I have the two photographs in front of me now. In the first there are seven women, standing against a white wall. They are, according to the law of the land, dressed in black robes and head scarves, covered except for the oval of their faces and their hands. In the second photograph the same group, in the same position, stands against the same wall. Only they have taken off their coverings. Splashes of color separate one from the next. Each has become distinct through the color and style of her clothes, the color and the length of her hair; not even the two who are still wearing their head scarves look the same.”

Just about any American would take for granted Nafisi’s fervent desire to have this weekly book discussion group, and even more incomprehensible that it should have had some of the more nightmarish elements that it did for her dream to actually come true. Everyone who came to her home to read and debate these forbidden works did so at considerable risk. All were former students, though some were conservative and others more progressive minded, and some were as religious as others were secular. All were “shy and uncomfortable at first, unaccustomed to being asked to speak their minds,” but as soon as they began to open up, the world of ideas introduced to them through the art of literature led to self-discovery, a growing sense of esteem and, most remarkably, the ability to see themselves in the stories they devoured, be they “Pride and Prejudice,” “Daisy Miller” or “Lolita.”
Nafisi’s remarkable story incorporates fascinating details of the early days of her country’s revolution, tracing events from the students protests at the University of Tehran to a time when a radical Islamist in Nafisi’s class questioned her decision to teach “The Great Gatsby,” which led to a strange trial where the character of Gatsby was actually put on the stand. Her perspectives on the Iran-Iraq war give the reader a very rare look into a country and way of life that is still elusive to most of us.
In the end, what the reader takes away from this luminous book is that art (and in this case literature) is not only necessary, it also can save lives, open minds and expand hearts. The books these women read, as the author says, not only became “essential to our lives: they were not a luxury but a necessity.” Any work that shares that sentiment with such moral imperative and emotional clarity should be treated the same way. Don’t miss this one.
 
  • Currently 3.5/5 Stars.
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
 
 

 

 
 
 
Close
Close
Close