Snow - to page 237

Guess having a long weekend helped. I actually managed to get caught up in both classes. Go me!


The book is picking up speed. While I'm enjoying it, I have to remind myself it's not a romance novel. I'm going to blame this romance mind-set on my current WIP (I'm 87K words into the novel now and obsessing about getting the hero and heroine back together). I have to remind myself that even though Ka's main goal - in his mind - is all about the woman, the story is really about something completely different.

So some random thoughts/observations so far:

1) The Revolution didn't come as a surprise - the political tension pretty much took a front seat in this book in Chapter One. What did come as a surprise was the location of the first revolutionary act. I figured something would happen at the theatre, just not that the actors on the stage had such a big role to play.

2) Another surprise was Blue and Kadife. I'm not sure I like the interpersonal exchanges between them. It feels...forced...faked...misleading. It probably isn't, but right now they just seem like a very odd couple despite their similiarities.

3) Although I'm beginning to worry a bit less about Ka's survival, I'm still not convinced he's going to come away unscathed. Probably the suspicious reader in me having issues with the narrator is the source of this unease..

4) The poetry. I talked a bit about this in class, but I really do feel like he's channelling the opinions of those he associates with during the course of the book. This is not to say his creativity is in question or his passion suspect, but I find it interesting how the voice of the common people ends up incorporated into each poem, sometimes word for word.

Pamuk's Snow

We started our first and only piece of fiction this week. I'm not exactly sure how we're supposed to analyze this story because of that. Everything else we've read so far has been non-fiction and we were judging the value of the disclosed information as well as making educated guesses about the autobiographer. That won't work here. At least, I don't think it will.

So, what then is left to analyze? The story and the author's presentation.

I like that the story is told in 3rd person. What is a little disconcerting, at least at first, is the realization there is an active narrator telling the story to the reader. The fact the author felt it was necessary to use a narrator makes me wonder why. Is he reliable? That's the first question. If he is, then does that mean the main character (MC) is unable to tell his own story? Is this a form of foreshadowing?

Those questions won't be answered for awhile yet, so I guess we should look instead at what our main character is up to and why. His motivation for returning to his hometown has two different faces: the public and the private. He says he's there as a journalist, looking to write stories on the head scarf girls who are committing suicide and the upcoming election. However, he's really there in hopes of convincing Ipek to marry him.

What starts out as a simple story becomes more of a cultural journey or exploration. Matters of religion and politics become a central focus when the MC begins his interviews of the girls' families. The noose tightens when he happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. After he witnesses the execution of a teacher who upheld the secular laws prohibiting the girls into the school if they refused to remove their head scarfs, the MC is drawn into a situation he never could have anticipated.

I'm only 80 some pages in and there's a lot of book left, but I expect things are about to get much worse for the MC. In truth, I'm anticipating he may not survive the story, which is why the narrator is necessary.

Assignment #5

Comparing Brooks & an essay by Ashraf Zahedi regarding the "Contested Meaning of the veil and political ideologies of Iranian regimes".

In Geraldine Brook's book, 9 Parts of Desire, the author becomes engrossed in the status and rights of Middle Eastern women. When I ran across Zahedi's essay, it seemed the two would tie in nicely together. After all, Brooks starts her narrative off by introducing Khomeini, a prominent figure in the Iranian revolution of 1979, who in her opinion was responsible for persuading "women that wearing of a medival cloak was a revolutionary act". (Brooks, p. 16) Strangely, Zahedi doesn't mention Khomeini once.

However, the Revolution does get its own little section in in Zahedi's essay. The credit - or blame - for what happens during this timeframe is laid at the regime's feet, which found support in both the clerical and secular camps. "Conservative clerics had a vast network of mosques through which they were able to propagate the importantce of traditional roles for women. Secularists supporting women's causes glorified the revolution as the ultimate means of advancing women's rights." (p. 8)

Of course, one of the main points of contention revolved around the veil. Zahedi does a nice job of giving a brief but well-told history of the veil and how it developed into its modern symbolism. Unlike the very disjointed and almost incomprehensible presentation Brooks gives on the subject, Zahedi's essay is easy to read and very informative. Perhaps narrowing the focus to one nation makes all the difference.

One of the more interesting things Zahedi mentions regarding the revolution is that the "women who had symbolically taken up the chador to support vieled women and the revolution came to the realization that they had no control over the meaning of the symbol and its instutionalization" (p.8) After reading that statement and taking a moment to reconsider Brooks' book, I can see this echoed in 9 Parts of Desire.

Brooks does provide examples of both the veiled and unveiled Muslim woman. While her own prejudices are unavoidable, she does try to present the two sides of this emotionally charged topic.

In many ways I much prefer the straightforwardness and matter-of-fact presentation of Zahedi's essay to Brook's wandering style. I didn't have to continually try to figure out where the author had relocated to or what point she was trying to make. Zahedi's essay is structured and easy to follow. There's no guess work involved.

While Brooks' book contains some of the same historical data, I don't know I could have pulled it out in a cohesive manner. However, to her benefit, her book offered a more personable approach. Whereas Khomeini is lumped - name unmentioned - into the regime Zahedi focuses on, Brooks is able to give the reader some insight into the man behind the revolution. She allows his family to speak of him as a man, a father, and even a grandfather. He is given a personality and some depth.

I think this is one of the main differences between travel writing and essays: the personal element. Essays like Zahedi's tend to be very academic in flavor, whereas travel writings allow for more introspection, subjectivism, and real life experience. So while I would prefer to read Zahedi's if I'm looking for a concrete, cohesive history lesson, I'd rather read Brooks' book to catch a glimpse of what's behind the facts.

Article Source: Zahedi, Ashraf. "Contested meaning of the veil and political ideologies of Iranian regimes.(Essay)." JMEWS: Journal of Middle East Women's Studies 3.3 (Fall 2007): 75(24). Academic OneFile. Gale. University of Michigan Flint. 15 Nov. 2007 . .

The Prince of The Marshes

I'm so much better with the older travel writings. I find them more interesting than our more modern readings. This doesn't surprise me. I often find it very difficult to get into current events, whereas history fascinates me. This makes reading books like 9 Parts Desire and The Prince of the Marshes more work than pleasure.

I really can't blame the authors, though. I think is more about me than about them. Their writing styles and voices are easier to absorb than those of earlier generations. Their topics are relevant to the world I live in. No, the fault is entirely my own.

That being said, I have tried to read more of Rory Stewart's book than we've been assigned. I wanted to read it all, straight through, because I figure this might give me a more solid foundation upon which I can base my opinions of what's going on over in Iraq. I've made it more than halfway through the book. I've learned a lot. However, I'm going to have to skip ahead and read the assigned reading today if I want to partcipate in class tonight.

I'd like to say I'm going to go back and read the whole book, but we'll see.

9 Parts Desire - Finished

The end of this book was quite interesting. I have to give the author credit for at least realizing her own prejudices and hang-ups regarding women in the Middle East. When she talks about how her memories are a mixture of good and bad impressions, I find that honest.

However, I still have some issue with how the book was put together. I almost wish the last chapter had been first. I think it would have given me some perspective to work with that didn't leave me such a bitter assessment of this journalist-turned-author.

It takes a lot of courage to admit you have prejudices. I'm not sure if my overall reaction to the book would have been different had the organization been a little more "up front", but I'd like to think so. If she had opened with an admission to her inability to accept the state of women in Islam based upon the experiences she was about to relate, I might have found her a bit more sympathetic. After all, she is the "main character" in this book and most authors want the reader to feel some kind of kinship for the protagonist.

Granted, this wasn't a work of fiction, so perhaps the same rules don't apply.

Overall, I'd say this book feeds into the Western stereotypes already so dominant in the US and like-minded countries. It confirmed our darkest suspicions about how Muslim women are treated in the Middle East. What it didn't do - and I believe this is intentional - is present any kind of insight into the benefits that might be found or the admirable reasons why so many women actually defend this lifestyle.

After all, the women were often some of the first to protest "westernizing", which in some ways underminds the image of the overbearing male tyrant.