Review: Reading Lolita in Tehran

Reading Lolita in Tehran, by Azar Nafisi (Random House 2003)

First line: “In the fall of 1995, after resigning from my last academic post, I decided to indulge myself and fulfill a dream. I chose seven of my best and most committed students and invited them to come to my home every Thursday to discuss literature.”

This book has been on my shelf for years and I’m not even sure how it came to me. I probably stole it from my mom, if I’m being honest. When looking for a book to fulfill my #19Nonfiction challenge prompt of a book set in a culture other than my own, I decided it was time to give this one a try.

I was pleasantly surprised by its format — broken into four major sections, each focusing on a different classic author or work, Nafisi told her story in short vignettes, a page or two here, a handful there, in a way that I find immersive and compelling. Her storytelling on a sentence level was immersive as well, reading almost like stream-of-consciousness at some points, infusing dialogue without quotation marks sometimes, but in standard format others. It edged on the side of philosophical and poetic, even as she included stark details to ground us in reality. I did find myself craving a more chronological thru-line, or at a chronological timeline in the front perhaps, as she jumped from year to year, as someone without a lot of knowledge of recent Iranian history, but I know this wouldn’t bother all readers.

I have only read two of the four classic works she includes, Jane Austen and The Great Gatsby, but that didn’t keep me from being engaged with the others as well. She gave enough context that I was interested the entire time. I found her perspective to be a captivating one: in a country in constant turmoil, from external wars and internal cultural battles, where she was fired from her university position for refusing to cover her hair, where her students were arrested, jailed, killed, for protesting the government or for wearing lip gloss, it might seem strange to spend so much time considering, debating, and discussing the works of white, western literature. It was fascinating to see how they made connections to their lives, the relevance that can be found among these stories. I would hope and assume that if she was conducting such classes now, she would also include works by non-white authors as well, but as it was, it does show the tremendous value of being able to share and discuss stories, no matter your circumstances.

Glad to have finally read this modern classic.

Review: The Widows of Malabar Hill

The Widows of Malabar Hill (Perveen Mistry #1), by Sunjata Massey (Soho Press 2018)

First line: “On the morning Perveen saw the stranger, they’d almost collided.”

One of my closest friends is a big-time mystery reader and always has excellent under-the-radar recommendations, which is where I received this one! Although I’m not sure how under the radar this book is, as just recently I’ve been seeing it come up frequently!

Set in 1921 Bombay (and the years prior as it flashes back), The Widows of Malabar Hill tells the story of Perveen Mistry, the first female solicitor (lawyer) in India, who is employed by her father’s well-known firm. The book begins as she reaches out to the three widows of one of her father’s clients who recently passed away. The women live in purdah, a strict seclusion in their home in which they cannot speak to any men outside their family. But when she learns that all three women have signed over their inheritance to a charity (making their futures very precarious), she gets suspicious and investigates. The case quickly becomes even more troubling when a member of the household ends up murdered.

What makes this book so special is the simultaneous exploration of Perveen’s personal story, which holds just as much tension as the murder mystery in the forefront. This book was lengthy, and I sometimes felt the length, but the slow burn suspense in both storylines was incredible. I felt so much building dread while reading this, primarily while learning about Perveen’s past, and the widow’s mystery just added to that. It reminded me of the Inspector Gamache series for this reason — the novel’s murder mystery is truly enhanced by the main cast’s personal stories. Also like Three Pines, I felt so immersed in the culture of the setting, in this case 1920s Parsi culture in India. I’ve been intrigued by Indian culture since taking an Indian Literature class in college, and I loved learning more about this earlier time in the country’s history.

While I don’t feel an urge to immediately jump back into this series, I do think I’ll pick it up again eventually. Massey’s storytelling is excellent. The fourth volume of the series is expected to publish next year.