Text of Paradise Lost Book 1 ( M.A Eng. 1st sem.)

Text
OF MAN’S first disobedience, and the fruit		Hey there Muse, can you tell me about Man's first Sin? It had something to do with that fruit, right?
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste		I know it was forbidden, but in Adam and Eve's case it was for-biting.
Brought death into the World, and all our woe,		It brought the possibility of sin and death to our world, it was a rotten apple!
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man		It made our Paradise Lost (Hey...that's the title of this thing!), until Jesus Christ came to the rescue
Restore us, and regain the blissful Seat,	5	To help us get better.
Sing, Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top		So Muse, let me have some inspiration, like you gave
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire		Moses inspiration. Give me whatever you gave him.
That Shepherd who first taught the chosen seed		Moses was a pretty cool guy, he taught a lot of people
In the beginning how the heavens and earth		And I want to do the same.
Rose out of Chaos: or, if Sion hill	10
Delight thee more, and Siloa’s brook that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God, I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventrous song,		I need your help in creating this epic
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues	15
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.		I want to create something that has never been done before
And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer		And I want to learn from you
Before all temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me, for Thou know’st; Thou from the first		You were there in the beginning
Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread,	20	Your wings were spread and
Dove-like sat’st brooding on the vast Abyss,		You were like a dove who turned
And mad’st it pregnant: what in me is dark		the darkness into light. And you can do the same for me.
Illumine, what is low raise and support;		I want to be enlightened where I am ignorant and I want to reinforce and strengthen my abilities
That, to the highth of this great argument,		So I can properly explain what has happened
I may assert Eternal Providence,	25
And justify the ways of God to men.		I want to explain God's great plan and purpose
Say first—for Heaven hides nothing from thy view,		Since you probably know everything about Heaven
Nor the deep tract of Hell—say first what cause		as well as what happens in Hell, I want to know...
Moved our grand Parents, in that happy state,		Why and how did Adam and Eve screw things up? I mean they must have been so happy in Eden
Favoured of Heaven so highly, to fall off	30	Heaven was really into them and gave them everything they needed
From their Creator, and transgress his will		from God, but they couldn't do ONE SMALL THING
For one restraint, lords of the World besides.		They only had one rule that they just had to follow
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt?		Who made them drop the ball? Of course I can't blame them, they just didn't know what they were doing!
The infernal Serpent; he it was whose guile,		It was that snake! He's quite the trickster
Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived	35	He was driven by jealousy and revenge, and went after
The mother of mankind, what time his pride		our beloved Eve. That snake's blind pride
Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host		got him kicked out of Heaven along with his entourage
Of rebel Angels, by whose aid, aspiring		of rebel Angels. Those Angels followed Satan
To set himself in glory above his peers,		and his blind ambition. Satan was able to convince them to support him in his quest to glorify himself above everyone,
He trusted to have equalled the Most High,	40	and even to the extent of waging war against Heaven
If he opposed, and, with ambitious aim
Against the throne and monarchy of God,
Raised impious war in Heaven and battle proud,		The inevitable result was war
With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power		But Satan's quest for victory was already decided, and he was meant to fail.
Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky,	45	He falls from grace
With hideous ruin and combustion, down		Ruined and on fire
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell		Down to his prison in Hell
In adamantine chains and penal fire,		Imprisoned in fire
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.		Why bother fighting someone who already knows the outcome? Get better, Satan! Sit down and have a beer and stop complaining!
Nine times the space that measures day and night	50	Satan and his homies were lying defeated in Hell.
To mortal men, he, with his horrid crew,
Lay vanquished, rowling in the fiery gulf,		They were sore losers
Confounded, though immortal. But his doom		Confused, angry, and a multitude of other bad feels. Even though they can't really die, just living with these feelings sucked.
Reserved him to more wrath; for now the thought		This just made Satan even madder and bitter
Both of lost happiness and lasting pain	55	as he thought of all the pleasures he may never have and the never-ending pain
Torments him: round he throws his baleful eyes,		He looked at the Hell around him and he saw
That witnessed huge affliction and dismay,		All the suffering that his gang was going through,
Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate.		But he was feeling even more hatred.
At once, as far as Angel’s ken, he views		Everywhere he looked
The dismal situation waste and wild.	60
A dungeon horrible, on all sides round,
As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames		was fire and the fire didn't burn like ordinary flame does
No light; but rather darkness visible		it burned with a dark fire instead of light
Served only to discover sights of woe,		and they only revealed more
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace	65	suffering
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes		and hoplessness
That comes to all, but torture without end		and unending torture
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed		It's like a roaring fire
With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed.		that doesn't seem like it will ever go out
Such place Eternal Justice had prepared	70	This place was made for people like Satan and anyone
For those rebellious; here their prison ordained		else who decides they want to try to fight Heaven.
In utter darkness, and their portion set,		They are sent to this fiery darkness
As far removed from God and light of Heaven		Which is the furthest away from Heaven and the light of Heaven
As from the centre thrice to the utmost pole.
Oh how unlike the place from whence they fell!	75	This place is the complete opposite of where they fell. No kidding!
There the companions of his fall, o’erwhelmed		This is where he and his defeated followers have to
With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire,		live, they have to live with fire.
He soon discerns; and, weltering by his side,		Satan finds a familar face next to him
One next himself in power, and next in crime,		His "2nd in command/assistant"
Long after known in Palestine, and named	80
Beëlzebub. To whom the Arch-Enemy,		His main man: Beëlzebub.
And thence in Heaven called Satan, with bold words		Satan finally spoke
Breaking the horrid silence, thus began:—		You can call it an ice-breaker
“If thou beest he—but Oh how fallen! how changed		"Hey! Is that you? Oh man, you've changed a lot!
From him!—who, in the happy realms of light,	85	You lost your shine, that 'Heavenly shine,'
Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine		You were brighter than
Myriads, though bright—if he whom mutual league,		everyone else!
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope		You joined me and helped me plan
And hazard in the glorious enterprise,		in my attempt to overthrow Heaven,
Joined with me once, now misery hath joined	90	But now we're here, together again in misery
In equal ruin; into what pit thou seest		and defeat
From what highth fallen: so much the stronger proved		We fell pretty far though, and I guess we were a little over our heads
He with his thunder: and till then who knew		Who would have known how strong they could be?
The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those,		But it's whatever to me,
Nor what the potent Victor in his rage	95	I don't care that we lost.
Can else inflict, do I repent, or change,		Heaven can throw everything at me, but I'm not going to change
Though changed in outward lustre, that fixed mind,		I may look different now, but my mind is still the same.
And high disdain from sense of injured merit,
That with the Mightiest raised me to contend,		I still have fight in me
And to the fierce contention brought along	100	I still have the same confidence
Innumerable force of Spirits armed,		that stirred up everyone to join me
That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring,		to fight the unfair Heaven
His utmost power with adverse power opposed
In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven,
And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?	105	So what if we lost?
All is not lost—the unconquerable will,		Nothing is lost, I still have my free will
And study of revenge, immortal hate,		my revenge and hate
And courage never to submit or yield:		my courage to never to give up
And what is else not to be overcome.		I still have all that! What did Heaven win?
That glory never shall his wrath or might	110
Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace		I'll never bow down,
With suppliant knee, and deify his power		and kneel for mercy and forgiveness from him
Who, from the terror of this arm, so late		I just made it known through my aggressions
Doubted his empire—that were low indeed;		that his empire really can be challenged.
That were an ignominy and shame beneath	115	To beg for mercy and forgiveness would be the worst shame than the defeat we just had.
This downfall; since, by fate, the strength of Gods,
And this empyreal substance, cannot fail;		We can't really die anyway,
Since, through experience of this great event,		but through such an experience
In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced,		we have definitely learned a lot from this.
We may with more successful hope resolve	120
To wage by force or guile eternal war,		We can keep fighting forever, through battle or some more devious and sneaky way.
Irreconcilable to our grand Foe,
Who now triumphs’, and in the excess of joy		Heh, I bet they're all up there in Heaven, just celebrating with their party hats and streamers"
Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven.”
So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain,	125	Satan said these things even though he was in pain
Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair;		and deep despair
And him thus answered soon his bold Compeer;—		Beëlzebub responded
“O Prince, O Chief of many thronèd Powers		"Oh Prince, my brave Prince,
That led the embattled Seraphim to war		you rallied the rebel Angels together for war,
Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds	130	with your leadership,
Fearless, endangered Heaven’s perpetual King,		against the tyrant in Heaven
And put to proof his high supremacy,
Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate!		But we were defeated, due to Heaven's greater strength or good luck
Too well I see and rue the dire event		Now this is where we are.
That, with sad overthrow and foul defeat,	135	Wallowing in defeat.
Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host		We've lost Heaven and all of our comrades are in bad shape
In horrible destruction laid thus low,		Our pride is hurt
As far as Gods and Heavenly Essences		But we are like Gods and we cannot die,
Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains		Our minds and spirits cannot be destroyed
Invincible, and vigour soon returns,	140	We are invincible, and our courage and strength will return
Though all our glory extinct, and happy state		even though our glory and joy are probably gone forever
Here swallowed up in endless misery.		while we're stuck in this miserable place.
But what if He our Conqueror (whom I now		Now I just think Heaven
Of force believe Almighty, since no less		really is almighty, I mean,
Than such could have o’erpowered such force as ours)	145	how else could he have defeated an army like ours?
Have left us this our spirit and strength entire,		Maybe he just left us alive to let us suffer
Strongly to suffer and support our pains,		So that we can live with misery
That we may so suffice his vengeful ire,		and he can be satisfied with our suffering
Or do him mightier service as his thralls		or make us slaves to do whatever
By right of war, whate’er his business be,	150	he wants us to do down here in Hell
Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire,
Or do errands in the gloomy Deep?
What can it then avail though yet we feel		What good is it if
Strength undiminished, or eternal being		we remain alive by Heaven's hand and immortal if it's
To undergo eternal punishment?”	155	only to live in suffering?"
Whereto with speedy words the Arch-Fiend replied:—		Satan the a.k.a. the Arch-Fiend replied with
“Fallen Cherub, to be weak is miserable,		"I know it sucks right now, and we're pretty miserable down here
Doing or suffering: but of this be sure—		but hear me out:
To do aught good never will be our task,		We will never do good deeds again
But ever to do ill our sole delight,	160	We will instead do evil deeds and gain pleasure from doing that
As being the contrary to His high will		We will do the opposite of what he wants
Whom we resist. If then His providence		And if Heaven
Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,		tries to turn our evil deeds into something good,
Our labour must be to pervert that end,		we will work hard to find another way
And out of good still to find means of evil;	165	to turn them evil again.
Which ofttimes may succeed so as perhaps		We'll succeed sometimes and
Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb		that will upset God even more
His inmost counsels from their destined aim.		We can do these things to thwart his plans
But see! the angry Victor hath recalled		But look at our enemy! He called back
His ministers of vengeance and pursuit	170	his troops
Back to the gates of Heaven: the sulphurous hail,		and went back to Heaven
Shot after us in storm, o’erblown hath laid		so right now we're in the calm of the storm
The fiery surge that from the precipice
Of Heaven received us falling; and the thunder,
Winged with red lightning and impetuous rage,	175
Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now		They're probably regrouping at the moment and waiting
To bellow through the vast and boundless Deep.
Let us not slip the occasion, whether scorn		I think we should take advantage of this opportunity, whether our enemy is ignoring us or if
Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe.		their anger has been quenched
Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild,	180	Look at that dark plain over there
The seat of desolation, void of light,
Save what the glimmering of these livid flames		Let's get out of these flames over here and
Casts pale and dreadful? Thither let us tend		find a spot over there because it has less flames (there's just a lot of fire down here!)
From off the tossing of these fiery waves;
There rest, if any rest can harbour there;	185	Let's just go over there and see if it's a bit better than this spot, yeah? It's worth a shot
And, re-assembling our afflicted powers,		We can gather everyone up
Consult how we may henceforth most offend		and talk about how we can recover and see what we can do
Our Enemy, our own loss how repair,		to mess with our enemy more
How overcome this dire calamity,		I'm sure we can get better.
What reinforcement we may gain from hope,	190	We still have some 'hope' left to muster
If not what resolution from despair.”		And maybe we can also come up with a way to make our current situation tolerable."
Thus Satan, talking to his nearest Mate,		Satan replied
With head uplift above the wave, and eyes		with his head and eyes above the flames
That sparkling blazed; his other parts besides		sparkling and blazing bright
Prone on the flood, extended long and large,	195
Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge		His body was large; he's apparently a huge deal down here in Hell.
As whom the fables name of monstrous size,		Imagine a really large bouncy house, like the ones at children's parties, only this one is made of fire and envy and lies.
Titanian or Earth-born, that warred on Jove,
Briareos or Typhon, whom the den
By ancient Tarsus held, or that sea-beast	200
Leviathan, which God of all his works
Created hugest that swim the ocean-stream.
Him, haply slumbering on the Norway foam,
The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff,
Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell,	205
With fixèd anchor in his scaly rind,
Moors by his side under the lee, while night
Invests the sea, and wishèd morn delays.
So stretched out huge in length the Arch-Fiend lay,		Anyway, Satan is pretty high and mighty and huge.
Chained on the burning lake; nor ever thence	210	Satan may have never gotten out of the burning lake of fire,
Had risen, or heaved his head, but that the will		or even lifted his head up,
And high permission of all-ruling Heaven		if God didn't decide to allow it.
Left him at large to his own dark designs,		Satan can do whatever he wants
That with reiterated crimes he might		like more crimes and stuff like that
Heap on himself damnation, while he sought	215	because it would only damn him more
Evil to others, and enraged might see		by being evil and horrible to others
How all his malice served but to bring forth		Satan would only find that the result would be God's goodness in the end
Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy, shewn		grace, and mercy given
On Man by him seduced, but on himself		to man. While Satan must suffer God's punishment
Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance poured.	220	over and over again.
Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool		So Satan got up out of the fiery lake
His mighty stature; on each hand the flames		His large person separating the flames around him
Driven backward slope their pointing spires, and, rowled		leaving an empty void where he had been lying
In billows, leave i’ the midst a horrid vale.
Then with expanded wings he steers his flight	225	He then spread his wings and flew
Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air,		up into the polluted air
That felt unusual weight; till on dry land		until he landed onto dry land
He lights—if it were land that ever burned
With solid, as the lake with liquid fire,
And such appeared in hue as when the force	230
Of subterranean wind transports a hill
Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side
Of thundering Ætna, whose combustible
And fuelled entrails, thence conceiving fire,
Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds,	235
And leave a singèd bottom all involved
With stench and smoke. Such resting found the sole		This was the kind of land meant for
Of unblest feet. Him followed his next Mate;		those who are unblessed.  Satan followed Beelzebub
Both glorying to have scaped the Stygian flood		praising each other about getting out of the lake of fire
As gods, and by their own recovered strength,	240	because of their strength and power,
Not by the sufferance of supernal power.		and not because God had let them.
“Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,”		Satan then said, "Hmm, so this land of fire that we get
Said then the lost Archangel, “this the seat
That we must change for Heaven?—this mournful gloom		in exchange for Heaven? This gloomy desolation
For that celestial light? Be it so, since He	245	in place of Heaven's light? That's fine by me! God
Who now is sovran can dispose and bid		can have his dictatorship and reign of tyranny up there
What shall be right: fardest from Him is best,		and the further away from him the better!
Whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme		We had equal rights, but the power of his force was stronger, so he gets to be 'king'
Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields,		So farewell Heaven
Where joy forever dwells! Hail, horrors! hail,	250	and hello horrors of Hell! Hail!
Infernal World! and thou, profoundest Hell,		This is our world and we (I mean 'I') can do anything!
Receive thy new possessor—one who brings		Welcom your new master, the one who brings
A mind not to be changed by place or time.		a mind that does not change by place or time
The mind is its own place, and in itself		As long as you have the attitude,
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.	255	you can make Heaven feel like Hell or Hell feel like Heaven!
What matter where, if I be still the same,		Why does it matter where I am if I'm still the same ol' Satan?!
And what I should be, all but less than he		I'm as great as God in every way except for his power.
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least		Here we can be free.
We shall be free; the Almighty hath not built		God didn't build this place for anything else!
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:	260	I doubt he can drive us out of here
Here we may reign secure; and, in my choice,		so we can call this place our new home. And for me,
To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell:		to be a ruler is a worthwhile ambition, even if it is Hell to rule.
Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.		I'd rather be a king in Hell than to be a slave in Heaven.
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,		But hey, let's not leave the rest of our buddies
The associates and co-partners of our loss,	265
Lie thus astonished on the oblivious pool,		over there in that burning lake.
And call them not to share with us their part		We might as well have them join us
In this unhappy mansion, or once more		in our misery and
With rallied arms to try what may be yet		regroup to see what we can salvage
Regained in Heaven, or what more lost in Hell?”	270	from our fall from Heaven, or whatever bad news still waits for us here in Hell."
So Satan spake; and him Beëlzebub		Beëlzebub replied to Satan
Thus answered:—“Leader of those armies bright		"You know, nothing less than Heaven could have beaten this army!
Which, but the Omnipotent, none could have foiled!
If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge		If our fallen can hear your voice, the same voice that gave them
Of hope in fears and dangers—heard so oft	275	hope during battle
In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge		and our struggles
Of battle, when it raged, in all assaults
Their surest signal—they will soon resume		I'm sure it will renew their strength
New courage and revive, though now they lie		and courage. Talk to them! Give them strength!
Grovelling and prostrate on yon lake of fire,	280	No wonder they're all still lying around in this lake of fire
As we erewhile, astounded and amazed;		all confused and flustered from defeat
No wonder, fallen such a pernicious highth!”		and falling from Heaven!
He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend		Beëlzebub didn't even finish speaking when Satan
Was moving toward the shore; his ponderous shield,		started heading towards the shore with his huge shield
Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round,	285	that was large and round,
Behind him cast. The broad circumference		on his back
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb		It looked like the moon
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views
At evening, from the top of Fesolè,
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands,	290
Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
His spear—to equal which the tallest pine		Satan's spear that was long
Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast		and seemed like the mast of
Of some great Ammiral, were but a wand—		a ship,
He walked with, to support uneasy steps	295	He used it to help balance himself
Over the burning marle, not like those steps		as he walked on the fiery ground of Hell that was so
On Heaven’s azure; and the torrid clime		different than the ground of Heaven. The air
Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire.		was hot and it burned him as he walked towards the shore.
Nathless he so endured, till on the beach		Satan stood on the beach,
Of that inflamèd sea he stood, and called	300	and he called out to his fallen army
His legions—Angel Forms, who lay entranced		His army was lying about
Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks		like autumn leaves on a shady brook
In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades
High over-arched imbower; or scattered sedge		or like seaweeds floating
Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion armed	305
Hath vexed the Red-Sea coast, whose waves o’erthrew
Busiris and his Memphian chivalry,
While with perfidious hatred they pursued
The sojourners of Goshen, who beheld
From the safe shore their floating carcases	310	next to the corpses of fallen soldiers
And broken chariot-wheels. So thick bestrown,		and broken chariot wheels. The fallen angels were just
Abject and lost, lay these, covering the flood,		scattered everywhere,
Under amazement of their hideous change.		in a state of shock. Their bodies just covered the lake.
He called so loud that all the hollow deep		Satan called out, and his voice echoed and reverberated around.
Of Hell resounded:—“Princes, Potentates,	315	He announced, "Rebel angels, Princes, and Warriors!
Warriors, the Flower of Heaven—once yours; now lost,		You were once rulers of Heaven! You guys better act like it!
If such astonishment as this can seize		Look at all of you! What happened to you?
Eternal Spirits! Or have ye chosen this place		Are you just going to lie around and accept where you are?
After the toil of battle to repose		Is this where you choose to rest after battle?
Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find	320	Maybe you find this place to be comfortable enough
To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven?		to rest as you did in Heaven?
Or in this abject posture have ye sworn		Or maybe you just want to kneel to your conqueror
To adore the Conqueror, who now beholds		in Heaven? And then he'll just see you
Cherub and Seraph rowling in the flood		in this weakened state and take advantage

Historical Contexts & Summary of Reading Lolita in Tehran ( M.A Eng. 3rd sem)

Historical ContextsMohammed Reza Shah succeeded his father to the throne in 1941 and ruled Iran until his overthrow in 1979. Although many acknowledge him for his efforts to industrialize and modernize the nation, his rule was both dictatorial and oppressive, thus fomenting opposition from a wide spectrum of the religious and secular populations. Chief among his critics was the powerful Shia scholar, Ayatollah Khomeini. Although the Shah exiled Khomeini in 1964, the Ayatollah still maintained a powerful core of disciples dedicated to the deposition of the Shah. Increasing political unrest throughout 1978 reached its zenith by the end of the year and the Shah fled the country on January 16, 1979. Later that year, the Shah entered the US seeking treatment for cancer (he died two years later in Cairo, Egypt). Because the US would not extradite the Shah to Iran for trial, the US became a target of revolutionary ire, resulting in the taking of hostages at the US Embassy by a motley group of students. The hostage crisis finally came to an end after 444 days. 

Meanwhile, the Ayatollah Khomeini had returned to Iran after his long exile spent in Turkey, Iraq, and France. On April 1, 1979, Iranian voters cast their ballots in a national referendum establishing an Islamic Republic. However, this did not make for a stable and fluid political transition. Throughout the year, rival political groups, ranging from conservative Islamic to communist, struggled to create a new nation, to write a constitution, and to determine a foreign policy; indeed, the whole identity and set up of the nation was up for debate. The Islamic Republican Party’s conservative agenda was most successful and strict policies and new laws were implemented. For women especially, the influence on their daily lives was immediate and intense. Although Reza Shah had “unveiled” Iranian women in 1936, they were forced again to adopt what the new regime defined as proper Islamic dress: either a chador or a long dark robe. 
(For more on women’s issues see the summary of section three).

During this same period, Iran was besieged by its neighbor, Iraq. Throughout 1980, Iran and Iraq fought over a border which had been in dispute since the modern nation of Iraq was created at the close of World War I. This culminated in September 1980 with Iraq staging a full-scale military invasion of Iran, which ushered in eight years of armed conflict. Iraq thought it could take advantage of the political instability within Iran, and secure gains easily. However, Iranian resistance proved far greater than was expected; for their part, the new Iranian leaders used the war as a test for its own citizens’ loyalty to the Islamic Republic. Anyone expressing dissent could be accused not only of counter-revolutionary activities, but treason. In this way, many were sent to fight in the front, jailed, or executed 

The effects of this war were widespread and deadly: not only was poison gas used against troops, but civilians were routinely targeted with missile and rocket attacks. The war caused the death and injury of more than a million people. Despite all this destruction and death, the war did not resolve the border dispute. 

Since the late eighties, a reform movement has tried to change Iran’s political, cultural, and religious environment. Indeed, since a majority of the population was born after the 1979 revolution, many young people in Iran are eager for such reforms. Leaders such as Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani and Mohammed Khatami have advocated for more tolerance in cultural and political affairs, have opposed censorship, and arbitrary government. Their efforts have frequently been thwarted by conservative leaders, most notably, the Council of Guardians, which has the power to disqualify candidates for office. 

Section IThe very earliest paragraphs of Reading Lolita in Tehran not only establish the general context of the book, but also introduce its key terms and themes.

Azar Nafisi begins with a description of a dream she fulfilled in her final years of life in the Islamic Republic of Iran: to hold a private literature workshop with a select group of dedicated students. Over the course of this first section, Nafisi introduces us to the seven students in the group and recreates their discussions about two primary texts: Nabokov’s Invitation to a Beheading and Lolita. In so doing, she makes both implicit and explicit connections between these novels and the lives of these women living in the Islamic Republic of Iran, and by extension, explores the links between literature and reality generally.

Nafisi characterizes her seven students one by one as they enter her home on their first workshop; for instance, Mahshid is distinguished as one who willingly wore the veil before the revolution, and who was jailed for five years because of her “affiliation with a dissident religious organization” (13), whereas Azin is described as sporting a kimono-style robe, and wearing large golden earrings and pink lipstick. The contrast between these two women demonstrates that a great deal of heterogeneity among Iranian women’s dress, attitudes and beliefs yet prevails, despite the regime’s attempts to define them only as Muslim women (28).

The discussions pertaining to Nabokov’s two novels highlight their exploration of the relationship between the individual and tyranny: “What Nabokov captured was the texture of life in a totalitarian society, where you are completely alone in an illusory world full of false promises and where you no longer differentiate between your savior and your executioner” (23). Since the Islamic Republic is just such a totalitarian regime, the students and Nafisi are insightful readers of Nabokov’s book; they experience similar aspects of arbitrary rule and find relief in the reading of such experiences.
Although the new Islamic rules of behavior affected all Iranian citizens, Nafisi explains that after the revolution, women’s position in society was significantly curtailed specifically due to the implementation of the so-called Islamic dress code; indeed, “the streets have been turned into a war zone, where young women who disobey rules are hurled into patrol cars, flogged, fined…” (27). Perhaps the most powerful illustration of this life under tyrannical rule is the unfortunate experience of Sanaz. Without any justification, she and a group of friends are arrested, subjected to “virginity tests”, forced to sign “confessions” and sentenced to 25 lashes for vague accusations of vice (72-4). The sense of frustration, violation, and helplessness in the face of such abuses of power would be unbearable if it were not for the escape made possible in literature. This points to the book’s major theme of the relationship between literature and reality. Although it is true that literature provides solace, escape, and joy it also inexorably leads back to reality: “Curiously, the novels we escaped into led us finally to question and prod our own realities about which we felt to helplessly speechless” (38-39). Thus, art not only serves to enhance life through the experience of beauty, it helps us to understand our own reality.


Section IIIn the second section, Nafisi goes back in time to recount her return to Iran in 1979 after many years of living abroad. She experiences an uncanny feeling of unfamiliarity while awaiting her luggage at the airport. Although happy to be home, the changes wrought by the revolution give her a sense of uneasiness. When going through customs, a young guard “picked up [my books] disdainfully, as if handling someone’s dirty laundry” (82). Although she notes that the guard did not confiscate her books, Nafisi warns us that this would come later. Such an observation indicates that the revolution for which they had such high hopes, would result in a more closed off society.

In September 1979, Nafisi began teaching at the University of Tehran, a year which concurred with the critical events of the Islamic Revolution, including the rise of Khomeini, the American hostage crisis, and the forced veiling of women. Nafisi decries the summary trials and executions of religious, political and cultural leaders. During this time, many of her colleagues were purged from the university, and her own position was in jeopardy, especially with regard to the content of her courses and her public stand against the veil. 

Although Nafisi’s classes were routinely interrupted by major revolutionary events, she managed to lead the group through readings of important literary works, most notably F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. According to Nafisi, this novel, while seemingly apolitical, has an important revolutionary quality. Many of her students however, object to it as immoral and decadent because its characters are adulterous. One might argue that the high point of this section is the “trial of Gatsby” which Nafisi organizes and her students stage. The trial discussions not only express a valuable reading of the novel itself, but also demonstrate what kinds of lines of inquiry or interpretation are appropriate in literary analysis.
In her closing remarks on the novel, Nafisi seeks to channel her students away from a narrow condemnation of the characters’ immorality, and instead to have them focus on the theme of the dream. Although one might say that Gatsby’s theme of the dream is quintessentially American, Nafisi eventually demonstrates the link between his dream (and its destruction) and the destruction of the revolutionary dream of many Iranians.


Section IIIIn the third section of Reading Lolita in Tehran, Nafisi narrates the events of the years 1980-1988, which included not only ongoing revolutionary activities but also the war with Iraq. On the personal front, in 1980, Nafisi was expelled from the University of Tehran for refusing to wear the veil; she subsequently pursued an independent writing career, bore two children, and, after a long hiatus from teaching, she took a full-time job at Allameh Tabatabai University where she resumed the teaching of fiction.

The coming of the war directly upon the heels of the revolution impacted life in Iran thoroughly. The new regime used the war as a weapon against anyone expressing dissident political views; anyone critiquing the government was labeled a traitor. In addition to traditional military battles, the civilian populations of Tehran and Baghdad were subjected to a brutal campaign of missile and rocket attacks. In much of this section of the book, Nafisi describes their experiences of blackouts, sirens, air raids and deaths as well as the psychological impact and coping mechanisms of living under such pressures; e.g. after missile attacks there would be a regular round of phone calls amongst family and friends confirming everyone’s safety. Nafisi and her husband struggled to decide the safest location in the apartment for their children to sleep, and moved them several times. For entertainment and diversion, many people watched movie videos procured on the black market or from banned satellite dishes. The anxiety and threat of constant attacks were frequently compounded by the pro-war propaganda of the regime. For instance, Nafisi specifically describes the revolutionary motorcycle squads who would circle missile attack sites, sometimes barring help to the victims, so that they could chant victory slogans.

Nafisi’s return to teaching was both a compromise and a thrill for her. In leaving her position at the University of Tehran, she had taken a moral stand against the regime’s mandatory policy of veiling. However, many saw this as a moot point since the imposition of the veil affected all women in all walks of life: in short, Nafisi would soon be wearing a chador or robe anywhere in public anyway. In a meeting with her student, Mr. Bahri, he asked her why she wanted to jeopardize the revolution for a “piece of cloth” (164). Nafisi protests the regime’s confiscation of the veil as a symbol for its fight against “Western Cultural Imperialism” by refusing to wear it in her official capacity as a professor, despite the fact that she must wear it as a private citizen. It is for this reason that her return to teaching is so fraught with difficulties for her. Although some advise her to teach because the spreading of ideas is a useful form of resistance to the oppressive policies of the regime, she struggles with the fear that she is compromising her moral position, and being a hypocrite. 

Nevertheless, after much soul searching, Nafisi agrees to accept the position at Allameh Tabatabai University where she teaches Henry James among her other novelists. This section resembles others of the book in that Nafisi introduces us to a few key students and recreates for us some of their responses to two main texts. In this case, we have the return of some of the same students, such as Nassrin and Mahshid, as well as some new ones, such as the virulent and uninformed Mr. Ghomi. Two texts take center stage this time: Henry James’s Washington Squareand Daisy Miller, novels which challenge her students very much. The character of Daisy Miller in particular became an obsession with the students; she is both an example of courage and misbehavior, and, like Gatsby, some readers see her as immoral and believe that she actually deserves the death she suffers in the end. 

Although James’s prose is difficult, Nafisi shows that his world, or “counter-reality,” was a powerful antidote to the ugliness of the world that he saw in both the American Civil War and World War I. Nafisi shows that the students, citizens of Iran, could thoroughly understand and appreciate his dramatization of lack of empathy because that is what they experienced everyday at the hands of those currently in power. According to Nafisi, James illustrates the way in which compassion is central to the novel as a genre and lack of it defines the villain. Moreover, like the protagonists of James’s novels, the people of Iran can strive to achieve an “aura of victory” by maintaining “self respect,” even though this may not also include “happiness” (225). 

The end of the war unfortunately does not bring relief to the people of Iran. For those not in the war it was a kind of anticlimax. Although the ceasing of missile attacks was certainly good, there was a prevalent feeling of “disillusion and disenchantment” (239) since Iran lay in ruins, and the nation suffered from rampant unemployment. For many of those young men who truly believed in the war, it was even worse. This fact is illustrated in the final chapter of the section. Nafisi narrates a typical day in class. As she is making her final comments on the theme of courage in James’s work, a student in another class immolates himself. Although he was a veteran of the front, little was known about him. Nafisi wonders whether he was privately mourned since there was never any official commemoration or memorial. He represents the average young man who had gained a sense of “purpose and power” with the war, but who “lost all that as soon as he returned from the front” (252).


Section IVIn the final section of the book, Nafisi returns to the description of the literature workshops with which the memoir began. Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice is the primary novel that acts as a touchstone throughout the section. The reading of Pride and Prejudice offers interesting insights into the nature of love and communication, as Nafisi and her students cope with the challenges peculiar to women living under the regime’s oppressive interpretation of Islamic tradition. The author thoroughly develops this theme in this section, although it has an important presence throughout the memoir, in repeated stories of vice squads’ arbitrary powers, the sexual molestations that pass for security searches, and the arguments about the veil itself. It seems that the regime is intent on controlling all aspects of their sexuality. In one provocative statement, Nafisi observes that: “Living in the Islamic Republic is like having sex with a man you loathe” (329).

Of course, one key issue is the veil. In section three Nafisi had referred to her grandmother’s wearing of the veil as a special pious act which defined her personal relationship with God and which was not political in nature. In the fourth section, she elaborates on this theme by discussing Mahshid’s relationship to the veil: she willingly wore it before the revolution, and yet after it becomes mandatory for all women, it is oppressive to her. Although this may seem confusing if not downright contradictory, the reason is clear: in making it mandatory for all, the special significance of it in her life as a choice has been nullified. No one in looking at her could tell if it were her desire to veil or if it were simply thrust upon her. This results in self-doubt, depression, and self-loathing.

Because mandatory veiling (either in the form of a robe or a chador) is so important, it has tended to overshadow the debate about other issues that are equally important to women; for example, marriage, divorce, and child custody laws, and access to education and health care. Indeed, some have argued that keeping the veil in the forefront of women’s issues has been an effective way to detract attention away from other issues of grave importance to women.
Nafisi gives a brief history of marriage laws in Iran to make the irony of women’s position in Iran clear. The main point is that they are living in a time warp, where four generations of women have had wildly different experiences. In the early twentieth century the age of marriage had been raised to 18; women were being elected to parliament, and women enjoyed rights comparable to those of women in Western democracies. However, after the revolution, the family protection law was repealed, thus negating many of the rights of women both at home and work. The age of marriage was lowered to nine, the punishment for adultery and prostitution was stoning, and women were considered to have half the worth of men (261). Whereas Nafisi and her mother enjoyed a relative degree of freedom, her young daughter’s position in society has regressed. In fact, it is more akin to that of her own great-grandmother.

Throughout this section, the author presents many other problems commonly faced by women. She demonstrates the difficulties of open courtship through the experiences of Sanaz and Yassi (263, 269-70, 278-80, 283-88) and they all voice their frustration that then-President Rafsanjani, hailed by many as a liberal reformer, had advocated the ridiculous rule of “temporary marriage” (259). The narration of the plight of Azin exposes the discriminatory divorce and child custody laws (272, 286). Nafisi even touches on the ambiguous psychological effects of Iran’s oppressive laws by describing Nassrin’s fundamental alienation from her own body (295-96). 

Multiple personal anecdotes illustrate Nafisi’s own frustration with the situation in Iran; for example, she notes that menopause is little discussed or understood among many women and their husbands (302). In another scene she is in a café with her friend known as “the magician” when the Vice Squad arrives for a raid. Since they are not related, it is illegal for them to be together like so, however, Nafisi initially refuses to part from her friend since they are not doing anything wrong. It is the constant pressure of this level of control by the government that she and the women of the group find unbearable. 

Despite the current deplorable situation, there is still hope for reform and improvement. Nafisi notes that although the younger generation did not have the chance to benefit from the earlier establishment of women’s rights, the knowledge that such rights existed in the not-too distant past, inspires them to work for more in the future. It is precisely for this reason that the question of leaving Iran for the West is so tantalizing, and yet vexing for these women. Not only Nafisi, but nearly all the girls in the group, struggle with the question of whether to flee the country to attain greater personal freedoms, or stay and fight for change at home. 

In this section Nafisi does not make as many explicit connections between the literary text (Pride and Prejudice) and their lives as she did in previous sections; for instance, in section two she made a very explicit connection between Gatsby’s dead dream and those of the Iranians. Nevertheless, in several passages here (265; 266-69; 304-07; 315) she devotes her attentions to a thorough reading of Pride and Prejudice, highlighting how Austen incorporated a multiplicity of voices which coexist within the texture of the novel, and which need not cancel any other voices out. This stylistic technique is mirrored in the novel’s plot, in which characters “risk ostracism and poverty to gain love and companionship and to embrace that elusive goal at the heart of democracy: the right to choose” (307). Naturally, there is an implicit connection between this and Iranian women’s struggle to regain the right to choose how to live their lives.


EpilogueIn the memoir’s brief epilogue, Nafisi tells us that she left Iran on June 24, 1997 and now lives and teaches in the US. She concisely describes the efforts of some of the younger generation to reform and liberalize the political system in Iran and she provides a few parting sentences about each of the women from the literature workshop, many of whom have since immigrated to the West.

Azar Nafisi

Professor and writer Azar Nafisi was born in 1955 in Tehran, Iran. Her father Ahmed Nafisi was the mayor of Tehran and her mother Nezhat Nafisi was one of the first women to serve on Iranian parliament. The Nafisi family had a passion for literature and exposed young Nafisi to stories of Persian classics during family walks and before bedtime. At an early age, Nafisi developed an appreciation for literature that would ultimately be the focus of her literary career

Nafisi was educated in Switzerland but returned to Iran when her father was imprisoned. She later attended the University of Oklahoma, earning a PhD in English and American Literature. At the University of Oklahoma, Nafisi joined the Iranian student movement, but was more interested in the opportunity to examine revolutionary writings such as Engels' Origin of the Family, Private Property, and the State and Marx's The 18th Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte. Nafisi felt conflicted as a member of the Iranian student movement because she appreciated Western literature despite protesting against Western imperialism.

After obtaining her PhD and her fellowship at Oxford University, Nafisi returned to Iran in 1979 and taught American literature at the University of Tehran. 1979 was a crucial time in Iranian history; it marked the rise of Ayatollah Khomeini, an influential figure of the Islamic Revolution. His vision was for Iran to be ruled as an Islamic state. The veil was enforced for Iranian women and strict regulations were implemented in order for women to have conservative roles. Nafisi was enraged by the restrictions placed on women. She felt that the rules stripped women of their individuality. Being educated in the West, Nafisi was exposed to the political and personal freedoms of Western women, and growing up in pre-Revolutionary Iran, she had known women to have more freedom.

In Tehran, Nafisi taught Western classics such as The Great Gatsby, Daisy Miller, and Pride and Prejudice, books that were banned by the Iranian government because they contradicted the values of Islam. Some revolutionary students reacted negatively to the books she taught, believing that the characters acted immorally and justified the selfish views of Western civilization. In 1981, Nafisi was expelled from the University of Tehran for refusing to wear the veil. She taught at the Free Islamic University and Allameh Tabatabai University until she quit her teaching positions in 1995. She then formed a reading book group with several of her best female students where she secretly taught Western novels, such as Lolita, Invitation to a Beheading, and Madame Bovary. Nafisi challenged her students to establish a connection between the novels and contemporary Iran. Nafisi's secret reading group was the inspiration for her critically acclaimed novel, Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books.

Nafisi left Iran for the US in 1997. She wrote op-ed articles for publications such as The New York Times, Washington Post, and The New Republic about the political relevance of literature and culture as well as human rights for Iranian women. Also, some of her articles focused on the relations between the United States and the Middle East and how people can avoid misconceptions of the Middle East portrayed by the West. In her article, “The Veiled Threat,” the cover story for the February 22nd 1999 issue of the New Republic, she criticizes the Iranian government for the harsh restrictions placed on women. She also talked about the importance of Iranian women historical figures and how the restrictions prevent Iranian women from having a history. Nafisi asserts that making the veil mandatory for women conflicts with their Islamic faith. “For some traditional women, the imposition of the veil was an affront to their religiosity—changing what had been a freely chosen expression of religious faith into a rote act imposed on them by the state. My grandmother was one such a woman. An intensely religious woman who never parted with her chador, she was nonetheless outraged at those who had defiled her religion by using violence to impose their interpretation of it on her grandchildren. ‘This is not Islam!' she would insist.” Nafisi presented her grandmother's testimonial as a rebuttal to those who believed that imposing the veil on women was an affirmation of Islam. She used this argument to point out that the extreme actions under Khomeini's rule were against the values of Islam.

Biographical information about Azar Nafisi (M.A Eng 3rd sem)

Biography 
There are certain works of western literature that most students in the United States will probably read at some point in their college careers. Pride and Prejudice. The Great Gatsby.Lolita. On American shores, these books are generally considered classics -- must-reads for anyone with the slightest interest in literature. Of course, this is most assuredly not the case in the Tehran, Iran. Since the 1979 revolution that brought Ayatollah Khomeini to power and began the anti-Americanism that caused Western culture to essentially be purged from Iran, such titles became all but forbidden. To teach them in the classroom -- especially one containing female students -- would be a genuine and punishable act of rebellion.
When Azar Nafisi was teaching literature at the University of Tehran, her syllabus was the least of her problems. Imagine living in a society in which it is an offense for a woman to show so much as a strand of hair in public. Now imagine how a woman who was encouraged by her father to explore her own personal history and engage in the art of story telling as a young girl might react to such a society. Nafisi was an independent, free-thinking woman living under a repressive regime. She was also an avowed fan of western culture: the films of the Marx Brothers, the plays of Shakespeare, the music of the Beatles, the literature of Jane Austen, Henry Miller, and Vladimir Nabokov. No longer able to adhere to the stringent rules of Islamic society, Nafisi refused to wear her veil in class and was summarily expelled from the University in 1981.
However, Nafisi's dismissal did not put an end to her teaching career. She returned to her profession in 1987, but had not lost her taste for testing the limits of the system. She would ultimately resign from her post for good in 1995, seeking a more creative means to educate. Nafisi secretively gathered a group of seven women, all former students of hers, to read and discuss those very novels that were deemed inappropriate for women in Iran.
For two years, Nafisi and her small class gathered together at her home on Thursday mornings where they would study Pride and Prejudice, Washington Square, Daisy Miller, and, of course, Lolita. And as the women explored and analyzed these classics, discussing the books in an open forum with a teacher who encouraged the women to express themselves freely, they also opened up about their own lives. Together they talked about their dreams, their failures, and the changes for which they wished.
Azar Nafisi's literary experiment would become the subject of her breakthrough debut memoir, Reading Lolita in Tehran. The book poetically recounts both those liberating Thursday mornings and the Ayatollah's rise to power fifteen years earlier.
Reading Lolita in Tehran has deservedly become something of an instant classic. Due to its lyricism, and the courage at the core of the story, the book has won Nafisi nearly universal praise. The New York Times called it "an eloquent brief on the transformative powers of fiction -- on the refuge from ideology that art can offer to those living under tyranny, and art's affirmative and subversive faith in the voice of the individual."
Since 1997, Nafisi has lived in the United States, where she continues to teach. She also continues to write, having op-ed pieces and articles published in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, The Los Angeles Times, The Baltimore Sun, and The New Republic. Meanwhile, Reading Lolita in Tehran continues to inspire readers, grateful that Azar Nafisi had the courage to step out from behind the veil.
  (Mike Segretto)

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Good to Know 
In her interview with Barnes & Noble.com, Nafisi talked about some of her favorite memories, interests, and the ways she likes to unwind:
"When I was barely five, every Friday (Iranian weekend) morning my father would take me for a long walk, near the suburbs of Tehran. Our destination was a small fountain. He had bought me a special cup, which I would fill once we reached there. All through our walk he regaled me with stories. We also made up stories, sometimes about our own lives, and sometimes about fantastic creatures and worlds. This ritual, which lasted for a few years, still shines in my memory. Every once in a while in my imagination I search for that very small fountain that had seemed to me so enormous and bountiful."
"My father's especial way of relating to us influenced the relation between my brother and me. My best memories of my brother are when we took our books to fancy parties my parents made us go to and the way we whispered and created a magical edge to the pattern of everyday reality. We carved a private intimate world of our own to which no one could enter without knowing our secret magic word. It remained with me when I had my own children. My best hours in Iran were spent with my husband and two children, teasing and making up stories. We spent long hours during the war watching films by the Marx Brothers and laughing until we cried."
"When I was in college I, like so many other students, became involved in the student protest movements, but somehow I could never rid myself of certain 'bourgeois' habits: reading works by those authors called 'bourgeois,' or seeing 'bourgeois' films were among some of my unforgivable sins."
"The first time I visited Washington, D.C., was during one of the antiwar demonstrations. At one point a painter friend of mine and I stole our way toward the National Gallery. There was tear gas in the streets and the museum was to be closed early. My friend and I were playing hide-and-seek, trying to evade the guards and prolong our stay, when suddenly I came across Dali's The Last Supper. There I stood, transfixed until I was forced out of the museum.
"Years later, when I made another pilgrimage to the National Gallery, I found many other paintings that I admired more than The Last Supper, but I almost always make a point of paying a special visit to that particular painting. Dali is not my favorite painter, but that day, and that moment, I realized with a shock of the existence of a sense of beauty and dignity that went beyond any transient concern, especially a political one. Through what other means can we reaffirm mankind's highest sense of individual integrity and strength, overcoming not just life's obstacles but death's absolute dominion?"
"Whenever I am really nervous and sometimes unhappy, I take out some scoops of coffee ice cream, mix it with coffee and nuts (either walnuts or almonds) and immerse myself in the soothing cool of the coffee ice cream going down my throat. When an idea comes to me for writing, this nervousness reaches its heights and along with it my consumption of ice cream, coffee, and nuts."
"After a particularly hard day, I like to watch Seinfeld, Law and Order, (not Criminal Intent) and mystery films, especially the British mysteries. The most reliable news show I watch is The Daily Show with Jon Stewart! I also love the classic movies on Turner Classic Movies."
"I love paintings. Sometimes I steal an hour or so and go to the Phillips Collection, which is close to my work, and watch and watch. I like to watch only a few paintings at a time and focus on them for a while and then move on to others. Every once in a while I go to the National Gallery in D.C. to pay homage to the one Da Vinci they have. In order to remember a painting or a view, I look at it for a long time, then close my eyes and try to reconstruct the image in my mind, then open my eyes and look again."
"I love going to theater, especially with my family, and three friends with whom we share a great deal. I also love reading poetry and sometimes Shakespeare aloud when I am alone. I hold the book in my hands and move around the house, reading and reading, thinking, If this is not a miracle I don't know what is."

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Interview 
In the spring of 2003, Azar Nafisi took some time out to answer some of our questions.
What was the book that most influenced your life ?
This is an almost impossible question! If I have to answer it, I would say One Thousand and One Arabian Nights, especially its frame story about the cuckolded king whose kingdom is on the verge of annihilation by his decision to wed a virgin every night and kill her in the morning, thus avenging himself on womankind. His murderous hand is finally stayed by the wise and beautiful Shahrzad, who offers herself as his bride and keeps him entranced for one thousand and one nights by her stories until he is finally cured.
To me -- as to many of my nationality and age -- this is one of those stories one seems to have been born with. I think I heard it first when I was about four, and my father each night would choose to tell me a story from the treasure trove of Persian Classical literature, and the last time I read it was for a private class I had with seven of my female students in 1995.
I love Shahrzad's tale, because like all great works of imagination, it is simple and yet profound, opening so many windows to the luminous worlds hidden in the depth of what we call everyday reality. To me this story contains a hidden theme -- old and timeless -- about the power of stories to reshape and redefine reality. It reminds me of what Vladimir Nabokov called the third eye of imagination, helping us to see and envision the world and ourselves through fresh and new eyes.
What are your ten favorite books, and what makes them special to you?
When it comes to books, I am very promiscuous, so many are my favorites -- it does not seem fair to choose only ten. If I don't mention more contemporary books it is not because I do not have favorites among them but because I have chosen the books that I have lived with the longest, having never-ending love affairs with them. They are books most of which I have read at different periods in my life, and yet every time I read them, they seem fresh and new, offering me a hidden gift I had not discovered before. I have already mentioned One Thousand and One Nights, and I have many favorites among the works of Classical Iranian poets and writers, such as those by Rumi, Hafez, and Ferdowsi.
These books have opened my eyes to the relation between the reality of my world and the alternative worlds fiction offers:

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll -- I always start my classes on literary criticism with Alice stories. Alice shows us how curiosity, a desire to go beyond our everyday habits and routine, can open up wondrous worlds to us and give us the power to turn the most ordinary into the most extraordinary. What would have happened had Alice not run after the white rabbit and had not had the courage to jump down the hole?

Nabokov's Lolita and Pnin are adult wonderlands filled with sorrow but also with faith in the power of individuals to overcome grief through their integrity and originality.

Denis Diderot's Jacque the Fatalist is also about the relation between reality and fiction. I love its humorous, playful wisdom. Laurence Sterne's Tristram Shandy is another quirky, teasing masterpiece.

Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice is, as she herself claimed, sparkling -- brimming with the fairy-tale magic of stories. Yet it has so many things to say about reality: the individual's right to choice. The plot in Pride and Prejudice is developed around the issue of choice: Elizabeth Bennett's decision to marry the man she loves. She rebels against both parental and social authority, subverting the most accepted norms of her times.These novels are amazing because of their poignant beauty, creating such inarticulate longings and passions:

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Wuthering Heights by Emily BrontëThese stories and novels have shaped so much of our modern sensibilities:

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James

The Trial by Franz Kafka

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark TwainAnd finally, I love the unique sense of humor in:

Tom Jones and Shamela by Henry Fielding

Italo Svevo's Confessions of Zeno

And a forgotten novel by Herman Melville: The Confidence Man.What are some of your favorite films?
Again with films I will mention the classics, the ones that have endured over a long period of time: films by the Marx Brothers, some Woody Allens like Love and Death, Federico Fellini's films, many of Howard Hawks's and Alfred Hitchcock's.
Favorite music?
Beethoven, the blues, the Doors, the Beatles, and Miles Davis.
If you had a book club, what would it be reading?
I would like to shape and design my book club according to the needs and particular tastes of its members. The most exciting thing about a book club is that each person can bring to it her own colors and flavor.
I enjoy mixing and matching the old and the new, biography and fiction as well as history, and poetry. It is amazing how seemingly irrelevant books and themes illuminate one another. Here are some suggestions:
For discussion about the subversive role assigned to women in the novel and issues related to individual choice: Austen's Pride and Prejudice side by side with Zora Neale Hurston'sTheir Eyes Were Watching God, George Eliot‘s Middlemarch, Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin, and of course, Muriel Spark's Loitering with Intent.
I would study Jean Rhys's Wide Sargasso Sea alongside Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre and Emily's Wuthering Heights.
This is a good time to reread books about what we call the American Dream and related subjects:

Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby

Henry James's The Europeans and Daisy MillerSome interesting perspectives from the Middle East:

Nuha Al-Radi's Baghdad Diaries

Iradj Pezeshkzad's My Uncle Napoleon

Marjane Satrapi's PersepolisOther ways of mixing and matching around an interesting theme:

Katherine Kressman Taylor's Address Unknown

Anne Frank's The Diary of a Young Girl

Primo Levi's books

Herzog

Julie Salamon's Net of Dreams

Parts of Tsevan Todorov's Moral ExtremesBooks by the Russians:

Tolstoy, Chekhov, and Dostoevsky from among the classics

Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita

The memoirs of Nadeshda Mandelstam

Ann Applebaum's Gulag

Vladimir Nabokov's Pnin, and works by other Russian dissident writersI would love to read the great mystery novels in my book group, from Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler to more contemporary writers like Patricia Highsmith.
I would like to emphasize that the main goal of any book group, in my opinion, should be sharing the pure and unadulterated pleasure peculiar to the act of reading and nothing else.
What are your favorite books to give -- and get -- as gifts?
I do have a rule regarding gifts, especially gifts of books: They have to be custom made according to the personality of the recipients. Sometimes I am so desperate for friends to read a book that I buy it for them to force them to read. Once in Iran I bought all the copies of Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita and gave them out to friends, one of whom translated it into Persian.
I also like to be surprised by the gifts I receive. I have often discovered great books through others who had eyes for books I had missed. I have a friend who is a fantastic historian, and she is constantly buying me books in her field that she thinks would interest me. It is exciting to get books from fields about which you know so little. I'd love to buy myself a copy of Vincent Van Gogh's letters.
Who are your favorite writers, and what makes their writing special?
As I have mentioned I am very promiscuous in this regard, so it is very difficult to choose favorites. I respond under protest.
I admire originality and passion in my favorite writers. No matter what their political ideas and ideals and individual backgrounds, they are all loyal citizens of the Republic of Imagination. I can list so many, each very different from the other, for example:
Leo Tolstoy (for his innate sense of time and tempo of life -- despite his tiresome preaching), Vladimir Nabokov, Gustave Flaubert, Henry Fielding, Denis Diderot, Henry James, Stendhal, Italo Svevo, Italo Calvino, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gogol, Jane Austen, Emily Brontë, Franz Kafka, Jean Rhys, Peter Taylor, Carol Shields, Saul Bellow, Philip Roth, Zora Neale Hurston, Mark Twain, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Raymond Chandler.
Some great short story writers:
Cynthia Ozick, Carson McCullers, Alice Munro, Raymond Carver....
And then what can one say of Shakespeare that would not become a cliché?
I have left out so many that I love, but it is impossible to mention all of them.
What are you working on now?
I am still recovering from my recent book. But I am also working on the ideas for a new book, which I have wanted to write for a long time, especially since my mother's death (January 2003), which has colored my attitude toward both life and death. It will center on the lives of three women, each living at a different period in time: the beginning of the 20th century, the middle of that century, and the present time. The theme will be focused on the idea of loss, of feeling like an exile in one's own home, and how each of these women deals (or does not deal) with it. I would like to mix their personal lives with the historical, cultural, social, and political events.

literary terms

Definition of Simile

A simile is a figure of speech that makes a comparison, showing similarities between two different things. Unlike a metaphor, a simile draws resemblance with the help of the words “like” or “as”. Therefore, it is a direct comparison.

(e.g. as brave as a lion ).

Definition of Mataphor

1.  a figure of speech in which a word or phrase is applied to an object or action that it does not literally denote in order to imply a resemblance, for example he is a lion in battle.

HUMOR

The quality of being amusing or comic, especially as expressed in literature or speech:his tales are full of humour
Satire

the use of humour, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people's stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues.

"the crude satire seems to be directed at the fashionable protest singers of the time"

IRONY 

the use of words to convey a meaning that is the opposite of itsliteral meaning: the irony of her reply, “How nice!” when I said I hadto work all weekend.