My Forbidden Face -- initial response

I have started to read a memoir written by a teenager who lived through the Taliban occupation of Kabul in 1996. The memoir is called My Forbidden Face: Growing Up Under the Taliban: A Young Woman's Story by Latifa. This is not her real name, but a pseudonym which she used to protect her family -- still living in Afghanistan.

The picture at the side is from Flickr and was uploaded on January 3, 2009
by cidimuzio. I want to be careful to give credit to the photographer. I selected this photograph from all the others after searching chadri because it was taken recently. I also like the picture because the woman is balancing a cage with two birds on her head and it reminds me of an episode in the memoir.

After the Taliban established itself in Kabul, they took over the radio station (renaming it Radio Sharia) and started broadcasting their edicts and rules. One of the rules includes "It is forbidden to keep dogs or birds" (41). The narrator and her family have a yellow canary and a greyhound. The greyhound is secretly taken out of the city and given to their uncle who has a country house. The canary has a different fate. The narrator lets the canary fly away -- saying that at least one member of the family will be free from the Taliban.

The narration is powerful and immediate and direct. The writer uses a journalistic style -- which suits since her ambition was to become a reporter until the arrival of the Taliban made that impossible because women were forbidden to work, to study, to walk alone. All women had to be accompanied by a male relative, called a mahram in order to leave the house. This means that even just to go shopping for groceries or to run an errand, a woman must have a male escort. How inefficient! That would mean everyone would have to stop work to get a loaf of bread or vist a friend. Nothing would get done!

Latifa also made quite real the long-term consequences of such constrictions and systematic suppression. Her mother, a trained nurse, a professional, an educated woman, could not work in a hospital finally because she reported malpractice (when a Russian nurse used the same needle to innoculate multiple children), because she argued for women's freedom. Now after the invastion of the Taliban, Latifa's mother just stays in the couch, ignores her daughters, and takes drugs to sleep soundly and deeply through the night.

The Taliban also forbade pictures, music, bright colors, high heels. Latifa and her family packed away all forbidden objects, hiding them in boxes in closets or in cupboards. Latifa's father had to surrender an old World War I weapon and saber of his father in accordance with the Taliban edict that all weapons must be surrendered. Her father wraps both in a blanket and leaves them in the mosque.

The Taliban take away symbols of freedom and autonomy in the name of religion. According to the narrator, they say their authority derives for the Koran but she insists that the edicts misrepresent and distort the Koran. She advers that her family follows the Koran and Islam faithfully.

Latifa also asserts that many members of the Taliban are not true Afghans, but come from other countries under the pretext of establishing religious purity. She makes it clear too that Afghans hate outside influences and power and control and fight and will fight for indepedence and freedom. She says, "One thing, and one thing only, unites Afghans in spite of their ethnic divisions: resistence against all foreign invaders, be they British, Pakistani, Arab -- or Soviet, of course" (24). This makes me think how futile may be American plans to try and stabilize Afghanistan by sending in more troops. The soldiers will be viewed as an invasionary force. And what will be their stance upon the Taliban?

This memoir is raw and unvarnished. But it reads as truth -- from one girl's perspective.

Great Arab Conquests (again)

I have read a couple more chapters in this book -- which is thick with detail. I cannot honestly remember all the names of people and places. But what I take away is that the expansion of Islam was facilitated by unanticipated factors -- such as the weakness of Rome, the devastation of the plague, etc.
Also I find fascinating how far Christianity had spread by the mid 630s. At one point, Kennedy asserts that most of the people of the Sasanian Empire were Christian and only the ruling elite practiced Zoroastrianism, which was the state religion.

Princeton and Florence: Treasure Hunter Novel

n short succession I read two books focusing on the same fascinating time period -- the late fifteenth century Renaissance.

The first was a novel by the collaborating authors Ian Caldwell and Dustin Thomason was a mystery set in contemporary Princeton but having roots in the Renaissance. The mystery centers on how to interpret and understand a massive and puzzling Renaissance text called "Hypnerotomachia Poliphili." The first-person narrator is a senior undergraduate English major at Princeton, who struggles with questions of loyalty, identity, and love. The action of the novel moved swiftly and once in a while I stumbled upon a magnificent analogy which encapsulated the narrator's emotions and reactions.

From this novel, I went to a biography of Machiavelli -- famous for writing "The Prince" -- and who was a contemporary of the purported author of the "Hypnerotomachia Poliphili." King writes a lively and humorous prose; he rather enjoys focusing on the more scurrilous aspects of Machiavelli's career which seems to be his method for offsetting Machiavelli's rather black reputation for deception, treachery, and aggression.

After reading both books I was struck anew how my selections of books are almost predetermined. I picked up the Machiavelli book because of "The Rule of Four." I picked up "The Rule of Four" because I had read a review of it last summer in the "New York Times" and remembered seeing it on my son's bookshelf.

Sometimes what I read is just by happenstance, but that is what I love about summer reading -- I can go anywhere inclination and Fortuna leads.

John Donne and Doubt

Browsing the books shelves of our local library, I found a new biography about John Donne, who wrote intellectually muscular poetry. I took down the hefty book and remembered that Donne struggled with his conversion to the Church of England, and tried to defend that conversion as not made for expediency but for true righteousness. I also recalled that when King James I appointed him Dean of St. Paul's Cathedral in 1621, some controversy existed because of Donne's background (his family was Roman Catholic), his early poetry (rebellious, erotic, and unconventional), and his marriage (he married his patron Lord Egerton's niece in secrecy). But I remembered Donne as a great doubter and questioner -- who defended suicide in one tract, who questioned the existence and presence of God. And also he lived at a time when England was dominated by religious antagonism and hatred, because the official religion of the state was Protestantism and Roman Catholics were persecuted and shut out of public offices. Everyone had to attend Protestant services and if someone did not, that person was suspected of being a Catholic and subject to questioning.

As I remembered these broad characteristics of Jacobean England, I was reminded of a NPR program, Krista Tippet's "Speaking of Faith" in which she interviewed Deborah Michael Hecht who wrote a history of doubt. Hecht argues that doubt has a great and long history beginning in Ancient Greece and that doubt about God and questions about God coincide with periods of cosmopolitanism and social upheaval. That description certainly seemed to fit England during Donne's lifetime and so I decided to read this biography by John Stubbs.

Stubb's biography of Donne is not written for the casual reader, but the reader who likes a challenge. In fact, his biography seems modeled on one of Donne's poems -- it demands patience as the narrative unfolds but the reader is rewarded by wonderful pictures of everyday life in London -- in the city, in the country, at the court, and among the poor and persecuted. Stubbs has written one of the most readable accounts of the tense relationship between Protestants and Roman Catholics in Jacobean England. He also shows how fine the line of distinction could be between the two religions.

Stubbs had to weave in Donne's own words -- from poetry, letters, sermons, etc. Given that all of Donne's poetry is undated, he takes a conservative and balanced approach to matching certain poems with certain events in Donne's life. For example, he matches "The Flea" to the time he was seeing Anne More clandestinely before their marriage. He assigns most of the Jack Donne poetry to Donne's twenties before he met More while serving as secretary to Lord Thomas Egerton. I guess the greatest tribute I can give Stubb's analysis and contextualization of Donne's poetry is that I have gone back and reread some of the poems he analyzes and I want to read Donne's essay "Biathanatos."

So if I had not heard Hecht's theory about doubt thriving in a cosmopolitan, questioning setting I might not have decided to read Stubbs' biography -- and I would not have met again one of my favorite poets.

Tolkien and Liszt

Within the last week, I have read two diametrically opposed books.

Marjorie Burns published a book in 2005 titled Perilous Realms: Celtic and Norse in Tolkien's Middle-earth. This scholarly book published by University of Toronto Press is based on the reasoned premise that Tolkien used both Norse and Celtic mythology, folklore, and epics to give his own texts a resonating depth and energy which makes his ostensibly simplistic characters and plot ambiguous and allusive. Burns argues about how Tolkien combines both Norse and Celtic elements to create a balance between the the pragmatic and realistic Norse and the mystic and spiritual Celtic. In her list of works cited, most of the texts Burns gives are translations from the Old Norse or the Celtic or scholarly commentary.

For Celticists intrigued by echoes of Welsh and Irish folklore in Tolkien, Burns deals head-on with a troublesome issue. Tolkien always denied any affection for Irish literature -- considering the land alien and the folklore off putting. But on the other hand, he always expressed a fascination with the music and orthography of Welsh. Burns neatly sidesteps Tolkien's own denials of the Celtic -- as any decent scholar should do -- and goes right ahead arguing that Tolkien employed the model of the Celtic sovereignty goddess when imagining Galadriel, or the Irish sidh mounds when describing the Elvish hidden kingdoms. As I read Burns' study, I wanted to go back and reread certain section of Lord of the Rings as well as my copies of various Old Irish sagas.

The other book I finished was a ballast to the scholarship. This was a novel set in early nineteenth-century Paris by Susanne Dunlap. The title is scurrilous -- Liszt's Kiss. It is a combination of a historical romance, mystery, and musicology. The setting is a rather interesting time when Paris was the center of culture and famous artists and composers lived in close proximity and knew each other -- Chopin, Paganini, Liszt, Delacroix. Dunlap's description of this intense concentration of talent reminded me of early twentieth-century Paris . And Dunlap includes the historically accurate drama and pathos of a cholera outbreak. One of her characters is a medical student who serves at the city hospital. In the course of the novel, he performs emergency surgery. I asked my husband to read that scene to assess the historical accuracy of the description. He agreed it was horrifically accurate and we then had a conversation about the miracle of anyone surviving a surgery before antibiotics or sterile procedure.

I ate up Dunlap's novel in just a day. It was not a demanding read but Dunlap has a marvelously restrained prose when narrating an assignation or a kiss which is refreshing after the otherwise torrid descriptions in contemporary fiction.

Caesar: Within His Time -- Still Extraordinary

When I was traveling back from Turkey, we stopped in Heathrow, London for a 5 hour layover. There I found Adrian Goldworthy's biograpy of Julius Caesar, titled simply Caesar.
He writes in a lively, engaged tone instead of the dry, objective tone of a historian. He weighs the contemporary evidence -- letters, commentaries, histories -- and always keeps emphasizing that Caesar was not inevitably successful in politics or war.
If you have watched HBO's series Rome, you might find this biography worthwhile.