Pages 1-88

The combination of all the names of all the different characters and all the literary criticism of books I've never read at the beginning of the book made it difficult for me to get through. While plowing through was initially challenging, I still found it interesting and have been having an easier time of it since I hit the end of the first chapter when she starts telling the story of the squad that came into her home and when the book generally gets less literary criticism-y and more narrative-y. This story (and all of her depictions of real life in Tehran in terms of what it's like for the women and families and stuff like that) engaged me most so far.

This story (squad entrance) in particular reminded me of a section of my friend Seth's book that I just read (Can I Bring My Own Gun: an Israeli Soldier's Story) in which Seth describes his unit's pursuit of a "bad guy" in a town in the West Bank. Essentially they sped around town in the back of an army vehicle for 15 hours trying to follow this guy. It was late and they needed rest, so the commander went into one of the biggest homes in the town, told the family who lived there to get into their basement, locked them in the basement, and instructed the soldiers to sleep on the floor in the spacious living room.

Seth explains that the soldiers were not allowed to touch anything or take anything, and that they didn't. He also illuminated (but did not validate) the reasons for why the commander made his choice (mainly there didn't seem to be another option--they couldn't stay outside or in the vehicle because they would be a sitting target, couldn't return to base without accomplishing mission, etc), but also didn't shy away from describing the impact that the experience must have had on the family living there and on the next generation of children coming out of the home. An oppressive force came into the family's home and exerted its power with a sense of disregard for the people on the other end of the oppression.

The right to property and privacy on that property is paramount in American culture and society. From what it sounds like, before the revolution, Iranians shared this value as well. The story of the violation of this basic right in both these stories captures the same feelings of humiliation and helplessness that Nafisi describes in her discussions on Lolita's relationship with her captor.

As far as I can tell, Lolita hasn't any choice in her life. She is dominated and essentially enslaved to a man who can intrude on her basic rights (such as when he comes into her school to receive what appears to be a hand-job in the middle of her class...though maybe I misunderstood that part...double check me here). Worse, this man is the narrator of her story. Yes, he exercises his power every moment that he holds her captive, but perhaps even more horrible is that he has the power and the right to shape what others think of her. He is the charismatic attorney arguing that she is a terrible girl. She will never get to tell her story, to explain what it was like for her, to convince others that maybe she did the terrible things she did because of her entrapment or that it wasn't the way he told it at all. The world will never know because she will never have the opportunity to explain. Instead, her oppressor will narrate for her; others will remember Lolita through her oppressor's eyes but never as who she thought herself to be. She, like the women of our author's story, is stripped of her right to authority over her history and choices.

The women in our book notice the similarities and seem to gain some sense of empowerment from discussing and comparing their own predicaments to those of characters from the books they read. What I find ironic is that without Reading Lolita in Tehran our women would never be remembered as anything other that who thier oppressors thought they were. This memoir gives the world a chance to see a group of women through the eyes, heart, and pen of someone who loves them. Nafisi gives them a voice that their oppressors sought to take away. To me, this is true power.

These are my initial thoughts on the novel. At first it was challenging to be analytical with a book I'm reading for pleasure, but I've written this over the course of a few days and enjoyedthe process of developing my ideas immensely. I'm finding that I'm even more excited to read the book that I was before! Get posting ladies!

The other thing I wanted to bring up was a question that Mitra asks in the book (page 44): "Why is it that stories like Lolita and Madame Bovary--stories that are so sad, so tragic--make us happy? Is it not sinful to feel pleasure when reading about something so terrible?" What do you all think about this? What is so special about fiction that it can make us feel so may things at once?

Oh, and also, I think the magician is a really interesting character who I want to learn more about. I also think her dad is cool.

Love!