Writing Fluid: My Sister, Guard you Veil
Melody
Both The Stuff that Dreams are Made of and Death of a Mannequin are similar essays in a collection of diverse writing gathered together in My Sister, Guard Your Veil; My Brother, Guard Your Eyes. Both are structured around an object, literature in the first, mannequins in the second, to describe Iran and it's state of feminism before and after the revolution.
Before reading these essays, I had no idea how drastically Iran changed immediately after the Shah was overthrown. Before, Persian women were considered some of the most progressive in the world (p.4) and were making huge strides in education and politics. After the demise of the Shah, women demanded more rights. But then, Khomeini took power, and started to roll back progressive policies and started to enact his own, starting with the mandatory wearing of the veil (p.4). Both authors seem to hold this as the beginning of the repression, as the symbolic representation of oppression of women. When the mannequins were forced to wear the veil, women didn't believe it could happen to them, too (p.30). But then it did. And it got worse. They also had acid thrown in their faces and were beaten by groups of men trying to enforce the law. The authors show how quickly a complete 180 occurred, and the take home message for me is how easily that could happen to us in America, as well.
Both essays are also beautiful examples of writing fluid. In The Stuff that Dreams are Made of, literature and novels provide the through-line linking the author's experience of being an expatriate with the political repression against women in Iran and the powerful role of literature in uniting varrious voices against tyranny. Seamlessly, we learn about both Nafisi and the history of Iran, with each paragraph effortlessly drawing the connections between seemingly disparate topics. Just as a novel's success comes from it's ability to resonate with people from various backgrounds, linking them together across divides, her essay's power comes from it's ability to transcend circumscribed boundaries.
Although some academics might claim that there is no role for an author's voice or experience when telling of feminism in Iran (i.e. That a personal essay is not the best format) because it might introduce too much bias, I believe the perspective gained by sharing her personal story is key to the essay's thesis. Her experience lends credibility to her depth of understanding. Her stories and language build empathy in the reader. We experience our shared humanity.
In Death of Manneqin, Kar uses the progression of enforcement over store mannequins' appearance as a metaphor for the worsening oppression against women. "The ideal women for fundamentalists was a woman who did not have eyes to see, a tongue to speak, and legs to run away." She also layers the theme of a "schizophrenic existence" throughout the essay, contrasting what is visible on the surface (the mannequins and compulsory black garb) with what is occurring behind closed doors, a uniquely Iranian form of feminism.
Similar to Nafisi's view of feminism, Kar describes how feminism is grounded in the daily behavior or Iranian women in their everyday lives (p.36), regardless of whether the women lean towards Islamic or Western philosophies or have ever heard of the term "feminism." The next revolution will be built from the ground up, in the home, by those who have suffered the most, from "the pain, sorrow, and bruises of our revolution." And the arts will help lead the way.
Both The Stuff that Dreams are Made of and Death of a Mannequin are similar essays in a collection of diverse writing gathered together in My Sister, Guard Your Veil; My Brother, Guard Your Eyes. Both are structured around an object, literature in the first, mannequins in the second, to describe Iran and it's state of feminism before and after the revolution.
Before reading these essays, I had no idea how drastically Iran changed immediately after the Shah was overthrown. Before, Persian women were considered some of the most progressive in the world (p.4) and were making huge strides in education and politics. After the demise of the Shah, women demanded more rights. But then, Khomeini took power, and started to roll back progressive policies and started to enact his own, starting with the mandatory wearing of the veil (p.4). Both authors seem to hold this as the beginning of the repression, as the symbolic representation of oppression of women. When the mannequins were forced to wear the veil, women didn't believe it could happen to them, too (p.30). But then it did. And it got worse. They also had acid thrown in their faces and were beaten by groups of men trying to enforce the law. The authors show how quickly a complete 180 occurred, and the take home message for me is how easily that could happen to us in America, as well.
Both essays are also beautiful examples of writing fluid. In The Stuff that Dreams are Made of, literature and novels provide the through-line linking the author's experience of being an expatriate with the political repression against women in Iran and the powerful role of literature in uniting varrious voices against tyranny. Seamlessly, we learn about both Nafisi and the history of Iran, with each paragraph effortlessly drawing the connections between seemingly disparate topics. Just as a novel's success comes from it's ability to resonate with people from various backgrounds, linking them together across divides, her essay's power comes from it's ability to transcend circumscribed boundaries.
Although some academics might claim that there is no role for an author's voice or experience when telling of feminism in Iran (i.e. That a personal essay is not the best format) because it might introduce too much bias, I believe the perspective gained by sharing her personal story is key to the essay's thesis. Her experience lends credibility to her depth of understanding. Her stories and language build empathy in the reader. We experience our shared humanity.
In Death of Manneqin, Kar uses the progression of enforcement over store mannequins' appearance as a metaphor for the worsening oppression against women. "The ideal women for fundamentalists was a woman who did not have eyes to see, a tongue to speak, and legs to run away." She also layers the theme of a "schizophrenic existence" throughout the essay, contrasting what is visible on the surface (the mannequins and compulsory black garb) with what is occurring behind closed doors, a uniquely Iranian form of feminism.
Similar to Nafisi's view of feminism, Kar describes how feminism is grounded in the daily behavior or Iranian women in their everyday lives (p.36), regardless of whether the women lean towards Islamic or Western philosophies or have ever heard of the term "feminism." The next revolution will be built from the ground up, in the home, by those who have suffered the most, from "the pain, sorrow, and bruises of our revolution." And the arts will help lead the way.
I completely agree with your statement about the power these personal essays hold, a power impossible to generate via any other means. I certainly hope you are right and that "the arts will help lead the way." I think this is closely related to the role of art and artists to challenge and cajole and push society to progress when it is always easier to stand still, or seems it.
ReplyDeleteI too found myself frustrated that I did not know how many political freedoms Iranian women had access to prior to and immediately post the removal of the Shah. I suspect part of that is being exposed to feminism primarily through a white lens. I am also curious about orientalism and how it has shaped my own viewpoint regarding the rights and abilities of Middle Eastern women, as well as how it has shaped media coverage and what is taken for "knowledge" in the Western world by many white people. It seems to me that much of the coverage of the burqa, whether it validates policies towards the burqa or critiques it, falls into this basic illogical trap. The women behind the burqas are often depicted, or have been in literature and media coverage I've been exposed to, as unknowable and lacking in self-knowledge, mysterious and uncommunicative. It occurs to me that Iranian women have been speaking for a long time, and I have not been paying attention.
Lots to talk about. Really nice job with your blog post. I think you did an excellent job of remaining open and curious and not pushing too hard for a conclusion the authors might not endorse.
I derived a lot of value from the way you broke down the connections between these two essays so easily. Centering their focus around one object was a powerful craft tool that I also thought contributed to the overall success and effectiveness of these essays. However, because these essays focus so heavily on apparent themes/symbols, I'm not sure that they make for great examples of writing fluidly. Maybe I'm just not so sure what writing fluidly even means. Either way, I enjoyed reading your take and find your last line to be uplifting. As per my own reflection this week, I do think artists have an important role to play in creating change. I think they are leaders, but in a different way than activists. Some people are able to both, but I'm learning that that might not be possible for everybody. Can't wait to discuss more in class!
ReplyDeleteHello, Melody
ReplyDeleteI appreciate how you analyze what you call the "through-line" in Nafisi's work and how you discuss the metaphor and themes of Kar. Both authors craft personal stories of their experiences of oppression and liberation, while incorporating their stances on feminism and the arts. I appreciate the use of a through-line and metaphors because as the reader I was able to connect to their experiences through a shared understanding of what literature means to me and what it means to me to express my femininity outwardly in my dress. Although I may not fully understand the intricacies of political oppression unique to their region of the world, I am able to connect to them and relate to their human experience, because they use these particular craft choices to discuss political oppression.