Finding Light in a Dark World

Lisa Patten

November 13th, 2017

My Sister, Guard Your Veil; My Brother, Guard Your Eyes  -  Lila Azam Zanganeh, editor
“The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of” -  Azar Nafisi

I found the reading this week to be compelling, painful and inspiring to read.  It reminded me again of how much I have to learn about other cultures and other voices.

In “The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of,” Azar Nafisi combines memoir, journalistic technique and metaphor to describe the devastating impact that the political, social and intellectual suppression of women has had on Iranian women.   Drawing from lessons learned in her own life, she exhorts Iranian women to resist the government oppression by preserving and strengthening their imagination and intellect, thereby holding onto their own unique identity in a society that demands uniformity and submission.

In this piece Nafisi tells us a parable about light and dark, between that which is out in the open and that which is hidden.  Beginning the piece with “The story I want to tell you begins . . .” the author establishes a didactic tone, and invites the reader to read this story as a parable – a narrative containing a lesson or parable.

Throughout the piece, Nafisi uses images of light and dark to subtly illustrate the necessity of imagination for individual survival.  Here, the metaphorical worlds of “light” and “dark” aren’t clearly delineated as separate entities as we might expect.  Here in contemporary Iran, light and dark coexist in the same space, intermingled.  It’s up to the reader to discern and seek out the light that exists surrounded by darkness in order to attain their own “enlightenment.”

Nafisi illustrates this with an example from her own life.  When she is first sent to England to study, she feels homesick and out of place in her strange new surroundings, with its dark, moody climate, and confining educational institutions.  She’s homesick for Tehran and the sunny environment and freedom that she loves.  During that time, however, she discovers the imaginative world of literature, and the invaluable lessons about individual and collective identity, as well as self-determination that the literature has to offer.  She becomes absorbed in the world of these books, and finds her new home there.  She even resumes a childhood habit of reading in bed at night, huddled under the covers with her books and a light, creating her own magical world of light and imagination amidst the dark of night.  The world of books and imagination have enabled her to survive and thrive in an unfamiliar world.

Later, when describing the necessity of maintaining an active intellect and imagination in order to resist and survive government oppression, Nafisi alludes to the inner world of the imagination as an oasis of light and hope in the midst of a dark, brutal world.

The author also uses the concept of “home” throughout the essay to help redefine that place where we belong.  At school in England, Nafisi is homesick for Tehran.  At one point in her education, she even goes to the American Southwest in an effort to experience a climate similar to Iran.  The Tehran that she misses is the Tehran that existed before the overthrow of the Shah, and before the imposition of Sharia law that confined and punished women in order to suppress their independence and identity.

When she returns to Iran and experiences the government’s suppression of women first-hand, she comes to realize that this is no longer “home” for her.  “Home” is no longer a geographic location or even a specific group of people.  “Home” is now is in the landscape of her mind, where she is free to think, free to determine her own identity, and free to imagine all of the possibilities for her present and for the future.  It is this “democracy of thought” that has been so brutally forbidden by Iran’s government, but which is so crucial to Iranian women’s survival and fulfillment as human beings.

This home is not tied to any one location, but is with her always wherever she is, regardless of country or regime, whether she lives in freedom or confinement.   It is the “portable home’ of her imagination

It is “the stuff that dreams are made of”.



Comments

  1. UnknownNovember 14, 2017 at 9:28 PM

    Lisa,

    I like your point about the effectiveness of starting the short essay with, "The story I want to tell you begins..." This choice by the author pulled me in right away as well. With starting a story or essay like that it gives the narrator or author a lot of social power (or the willingness for the readers to follow the author or narrator.) And I think it gives the author or narrator a lot of power because they're kind of like, "hey, no bullshit... this is what happened... this is how it happened... here's the effects and repercussions." Gives the author credibility, but could also go a different way if the essay was about something no so serious and with clear repercussions.

    Jameka

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  2. AryaNovember 14, 2017 at 10:58 PM

    I love how you focused on how Nafisi's personal story was threaded throughout the essay. Opening the story by grounding us in an airport, on a particular date of importance, was such a compelling and personal way to begin a piece that is about such huge social, ethical, and political questions. The personal definitely serves as a hook/lead into the piece and by page 3, the author's personal story has been absorbed by larger historical narratives and questions. This is so skillful and deft and something I want to learn how to do: threading the personal with the political.

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