I thought this was an interesting read on several fronts, and the length fit well into my schedule. Thanks Jesse for picking it out. My book's already back at the library, so you'll forgive me for doing this from memory...
Did she Suffer? So for me, the most shocking part of the book was not any part about smelly guards, being beaten, isolated, or convicted without a trial. I was genuinely surprised when her sentence was pronounced at... 30 days in prison. The desert of despair she seems to have traversed, the heights of her pain, the depths of her introspection, her professed insight into human nature and the response to torture... all of this had me thinking in terms of months at least, possbly more. 30 days seems, well, short.
Don't get me wrong; I am not condoning what was done to her, and she did certainly teach me a lot about living in an Islamist state.
But I'm wondering what she would have made of the 35 days I spent as a Surgery intern last October. It was all there... sleep deprivation, verbal abuse, mental anguish, one's convictions called into question nearly with every moment. There was even a room barely large enough for a bed, with blankets stained by previous users, where you were relieved to be - if only for a 15-minute period before being dragged back to the Emergency Room by your pager. There's a great guy in my program who did surgery this month, and it's amazing the transformation in his countenance. This is the most trying month of his life, and it shows.
The thing is, it was still only 5 weeks and I left that month with 1)gratitude that I'm not one of these guys living that life for 5-7 years, and 2)an appreciation of how short 5 weeks really is. I had the same experience this January in the Intensive Care Unit - minus the verbal abuse.
After hearing the 30-day number, I began to reconsider whether Zarah is the one who really suffered that much. I was like "Wait a minute! It really isn't that big of a deal to have your head shaved, is it?" I thought mostly about all of the other people in the prison who don't have rich friends, those who probably suffered the torture Zarah only feared. Those are the people I would like to liberate.
Who is the Hero? I am intrigued by Peter's comments about the boyfriend (Benham?) being perhaps the most laudable of the characters. He certainly seems to have spared our protagonist the worst of what could have been. Benham and his peers probably do have the only course to lasting reform in a country like Iran; it seems a revolt/revolution would only lead to the next oppressive and dogmatic regime. Zarah clearly outlines the history of this very dynamic in Iran. Zarah also makes something of a hero (if not an effective reformer) for her willingness to do what she believes, no matter the obvious consequences which await.
I don't know what this says about me, but my hero became the prisoner upstairs - Sohrab. Assuming his story is completely true (wrongfully accused prior to the murder etc.) I find myself sympathetic with his plight. Well not the part where he goes out and kills a man, but right up to that. He was going to prison for no reason other than trying to do the right thing. Now here's a guy who has been in the prison far, far longer than Zarah's -- wait for it... -- 30 days, and he does still have enough humanity to help the inexperienced girl downstairs get through it all. Plus he's a doctor. Somehow for me, the most emotional part of the book was when she was leaving and she promised she would never forget him. I'm sure he's still in there, periodically shouting at the guards so he can change life's pace with a beating or two. He is also the character that leaves me wondering about what we do in America with killers, but perhaps that's a topic for another day.
I learned a lot about Iran, whatever else you might say about the story. This is mostly because I am starting from no understanding at all.
Zarah's Morality has already been eloquently described by previous posts. I can only say Amen. I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that pink shoes and pretty hair are really just symbolic of the hidden wishes of an oppressed people who have seen nothing but tyranny and war. But her "let's all be friends and stop pretending there's a God" attitude does fail to resonate with me. I also don't sympathise with her desire to sleep with the professor any more than I do with Americans who want to have fun getting pregnant but keep babies out of it (also a topic for another day). I'm not going to impose any "laws against a man's beliefs," but Zarah's moral agenda in this book didn't change my belief that there is joy in living according to Christ's teaching - joy that can be enjoyed by anyone who will partake. I'm sure if I told her about this joy, she would answer as did so many French people who told me happiness (and spirituality) is a many-sided mountain, with many routes to the top.
Overall, I had a great time reading this book and am glad it was chosen. I guess my comments are mostly negative, but you don't need me to point out all of Zarah's good points - she already made them herself.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Nathan Hale she Ain't
Zarah as paper hero
I think this was the most surprising thing about the book to me. When Jesse chose it, I thought, "Great! A book about courage and the indomitableness of the human spirit." Yeah, that's not it at all. An uncharitable side of me thinks if Zarah's pink-shoe rebelliousness was really so important to her, why was she so able to throw it by the wayside? There are people who have suffered far worse torture than she did and yet remained true to their ideals. For me, it made the book an interesting story, but actually weakened my sympathy for the cause of Iranian dissent.
Of course, the more charitable side of me is simply horrified by what happened to her. This, I'm sure, was the intended reaction. By casting herself as just a normal person with normal likes and dislikes; just a college student who did nothing more than collect a few signatures, Zarah makes herself into the common (wo)man. She is at pains to do this throughout the book, from her descriptions of her family life to her infatuations with various boys to her adolescent admiration for her teachers. While this makes her more relateable, to me it defeated her larger purpose, which I think was to decry the injustice of her situation. Instead, it just made me pity her for making such naive, bad decisions. For someone apparently so naive to enter a collision course with a brutal regime seems, I don't know, inexcusably stupid. There I am being uncharitable again.
Value of suffering
I was talking about the value of suffering with a friend yesterday. I was comparing the different reactions of two families in my ward to diagnoses of terminal cancer. The first family lost a 14-year-old son, after years of sickness. Our ward really supported them, financially and emotionally, throughout the illness; but afterward they simply weren't able to get over the unfairness of the death. They drifted (back) into inactivity. On the other hand, there's a family now facing a similar trial; the father, who's probably five years older than me, has terminal cancer. In their case I've been astounded at the depth of change in their outlook on life. He and his wife both bear their testimonies of the beauty and truth of the Plan of Salvation.
Suffering is a crucible, and a refiner's fire, but I wouldn't agree that it's pointless for those who don't yet have wisdom, or courage, or faith as Zarah says. I don't believe such things are binary, that either you have them or you don't. Rather, suffering can develop your wisdom, courage and faith, or it can diminish them. And I believe that what it does to you is largely your choice. Not entirely, but largely.
Am I my Iranian brother's keeper
You know who I think was the hero of the book? The erstwhile boyfriend who got her released from prison and protected her while she was there. I wish there were a book about him. He's the one who supplied the student movement with funds; he's the one who actually demonstrated an ability (if not a will) to change things. Zarah casts him as blithely amoral, willfully blind to the injustices perpetrated by the regime, tacitly complicit. But he did more to advance their cause than the would-be revolutionaries did, and I think given the chance, he and his class will do more to actually change Iran.
So what does this have to do with being our brother's keeper? I guess I feel like we do have a duty to alleviate pain and suffering and injustice where we meet it. But as outsiders, to have any effect we need allies within the culture. If I were choosing an ally, it wouldn't be Zarah and her friends; it would be the moderate Iranians, like the boyfriend, who (pragmatically) have the means to effect a change and (ideologically) have the groundedness to understand how a change can best be effected.
I guess what I'm saying is this book didn't call me to the barricades like I expected it to. Rather it demonstrated to me the futility and the emptiness of the barricades. Of rebellion and transformation, I'll take transformation nine times out of ten.
Moral relativism
Zarah's mild embrace of Zorastrianism reminded me very much of the secular morality of our society. Try not to hurt people, enjoy beauty, don't be too sure of your own rightness. This is how people get along in a diverse society. They certainly aren't bad things. But when they are the only things, when there is no private conviction deeper than a superficial dedication to being polite, I think something's wrong. And I don't honestly believe that's the case in Zarah's situation; she has a dedication to those poets. They are her deeper morality. She glosses over what she really believes in, but I think you can back it out to some degree. She's a sensualist, dedicated to the beauties of the world around us. This shows up in her repeated references to Omar Khayyam, as well as more overt things she says. I guess it's really at the heart of her pink-shoes rebellion. Maybe it's more evident than I at first thought...but I felt like she chose to bury it to some extent (even though it's right there on the page) in order to make herself more common, more like everyone else (particularly the reader).
I think this was the most surprising thing about the book to me. When Jesse chose it, I thought, "Great! A book about courage and the indomitableness of the human spirit." Yeah, that's not it at all. An uncharitable side of me thinks if Zarah's pink-shoe rebelliousness was really so important to her, why was she so able to throw it by the wayside? There are people who have suffered far worse torture than she did and yet remained true to their ideals. For me, it made the book an interesting story, but actually weakened my sympathy for the cause of Iranian dissent.
Of course, the more charitable side of me is simply horrified by what happened to her. This, I'm sure, was the intended reaction. By casting herself as just a normal person with normal likes and dislikes; just a college student who did nothing more than collect a few signatures, Zarah makes herself into the common (wo)man. She is at pains to do this throughout the book, from her descriptions of her family life to her infatuations with various boys to her adolescent admiration for her teachers. While this makes her more relateable, to me it defeated her larger purpose, which I think was to decry the injustice of her situation. Instead, it just made me pity her for making such naive, bad decisions. For someone apparently so naive to enter a collision course with a brutal regime seems, I don't know, inexcusably stupid. There I am being uncharitable again.
Value of suffering
I was talking about the value of suffering with a friend yesterday. I was comparing the different reactions of two families in my ward to diagnoses of terminal cancer. The first family lost a 14-year-old son, after years of sickness. Our ward really supported them, financially and emotionally, throughout the illness; but afterward they simply weren't able to get over the unfairness of the death. They drifted (back) into inactivity. On the other hand, there's a family now facing a similar trial; the father, who's probably five years older than me, has terminal cancer. In their case I've been astounded at the depth of change in their outlook on life. He and his wife both bear their testimonies of the beauty and truth of the Plan of Salvation.
Suffering is a crucible, and a refiner's fire, but I wouldn't agree that it's pointless for those who don't yet have wisdom, or courage, or faith as Zarah says. I don't believe such things are binary, that either you have them or you don't. Rather, suffering can develop your wisdom, courage and faith, or it can diminish them. And I believe that what it does to you is largely your choice. Not entirely, but largely.
Am I my Iranian brother's keeper
You know who I think was the hero of the book? The erstwhile boyfriend who got her released from prison and protected her while she was there. I wish there were a book about him. He's the one who supplied the student movement with funds; he's the one who actually demonstrated an ability (if not a will) to change things. Zarah casts him as blithely amoral, willfully blind to the injustices perpetrated by the regime, tacitly complicit. But he did more to advance their cause than the would-be revolutionaries did, and I think given the chance, he and his class will do more to actually change Iran.
So what does this have to do with being our brother's keeper? I guess I feel like we do have a duty to alleviate pain and suffering and injustice where we meet it. But as outsiders, to have any effect we need allies within the culture. If I were choosing an ally, it wouldn't be Zarah and her friends; it would be the moderate Iranians, like the boyfriend, who (pragmatically) have the means to effect a change and (ideologically) have the groundedness to understand how a change can best be effected.
I guess what I'm saying is this book didn't call me to the barricades like I expected it to. Rather it demonstrated to me the futility and the emptiness of the barricades. Of rebellion and transformation, I'll take transformation nine times out of ten.
Moral relativism
Zarah's mild embrace of Zorastrianism reminded me very much of the secular morality of our society. Try not to hurt people, enjoy beauty, don't be too sure of your own rightness. This is how people get along in a diverse society. They certainly aren't bad things. But when they are the only things, when there is no private conviction deeper than a superficial dedication to being polite, I think something's wrong. And I don't honestly believe that's the case in Zarah's situation; she has a dedication to those poets. They are her deeper morality. She glosses over what she really believes in, but I think you can back it out to some degree. She's a sensualist, dedicated to the beauties of the world around us. This shows up in her repeated references to Omar Khayyam, as well as more overt things she says. I guess it's really at the heart of her pink-shoes rebellion. Maybe it's more evident than I at first thought...but I felt like she chose to bury it to some extent (even though it's right there on the page) in order to make herself more common, more like everyone else (particularly the reader).
Friday, March 27, 2009
Doug Signing In!
Hi guys! I have Facebook to thank for finding Alvin, who pointed me to the site. I have enjoyed reading everyone's thoughts and updates. It's amazing how 1 year together has translated into a lasting comraderie. I'm glad to take part. So here's me...Family - I married Becky Payne December 18, 1998; 3 months after getting off the mission. It's been a great decade since then. The kids are 7, 5, 3, and 7 months. They're a lot of fun.
Calling - Ward Organist and Perpetual Nursery Worker. None of my kids has been through nursery without my having been the teacher.
Job - Currently a first-year medical intern; Five years of radiology training is forthcoming.
Geolocation - Columbus, Ohio since 2004; will be Durham, NC until 2014.
Last 13 years in 100 words or less: I finished freshman year and moved back to my hometown for one last summer of work and wooing Becky before heading on my mission to Paris, France. (I did have Ryan Larsen as my zone leader for a few months while I was in the office.) As mentioned, I was married 3 months after the mission and back at BYU.
I graduated from BYU in Chemical Engineering , and took a job in Portland Oregon with Intel. I worked in their manufacturing branch on flash memory for cell phones, then later with the Pentium 4 when it was new. Sometime in there, I decided that medicine was really what I wanted to do with my life, so after 3 years we moved out to Columbus for medical school at Ohio State. Besides developing an understanding of what true college sports fanatacism is, I got a good medical education.
I now find myself at the end of the "intern" year, grateful for the legislation of an 80-hour workweek. I don't know how this was done by earlier physicians, at least not by those with a family. I will be moving in July to Durham, NC for Radiology training at Duke University. I have a 5-year course of study at Duke.
More About Me: In my luscious amounts of free time, I still get out for the occasional run, or spend some time at the piano. Our family enjoys road trips and visiting family and friends. Oh, and treats with Family Home Evening.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Traitor!
A quick read. I have a few small thoughts. I tend to skip over gruesome details, so every other chapter was a skim.
On writing:
I am sure that this book was written in two parts—one inside the prison and one before. Then the two parts were spliced together. I thought it made the book more palatable because the stories were so different. I wondered about chiasm. But the point? Maybe the following: Iran under “the primitives” is bad, torture is bad, but we can keep our humanity.
Was this book written by Hillman or by Zarah Ghahramani? I felt that, while the content of the book was obviously Zarah's, the writing was Hillmans. It almost seemed like the language had been forcibly simplified.
Suffering definitely eats away at her humanity. Jesse's quote, "It's OK if you already have character and wisdom and courage, but if you don't, suffering won't build such things in your heart and soul. It will consume what little courage you have, and then you are left with nothing." While she was left feeling empty, I think the refiners fire left more than nothing. I don't know if she emerged ennobled. I do think it's typical for suffering to mature/weather us. I think she grew up—not that she was immature before, only that the prison aged her, tempered her activist rage into a more intelligible emotion that will likely serve to influence more people than otherwise.
This book “made me sad.” I suppose that was the goal, but I wish it had made me more angry. When I'm saddened, I usually don't do anything—depression for me leads to inaction. I have to be mad to take action against injustice.
On writing:
I am sure that this book was written in two parts—one inside the prison and one before. Then the two parts were spliced together. I thought it made the book more palatable because the stories were so different. I wondered about chiasm. But the point? Maybe the following: Iran under “the primitives” is bad, torture is bad, but we can keep our humanity.
Was this book written by Hillman or by Zarah Ghahramani? I felt that, while the content of the book was obviously Zarah's, the writing was Hillmans. It almost seemed like the language had been forcibly simplified.
Suffering definitely eats away at her humanity. Jesse's quote, "It's OK if you already have character and wisdom and courage, but if you don't, suffering won't build such things in your heart and soul. It will consume what little courage you have, and then you are left with nothing." While she was left feeling empty, I think the refiners fire left more than nothing. I don't know if she emerged ennobled. I do think it's typical for suffering to mature/weather us. I think she grew up—not that she was immature before, only that the prison aged her, tempered her activist rage into a more intelligible emotion that will likely serve to influence more people than otherwise.
This book “made me sad.” I suppose that was the goal, but I wish it had made me more angry. When I'm saddened, I usually don't do anything—depression for me leads to inaction. I have to be mad to take action against injustice.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
My Life as a Traitor
Great reading recommendation Jesse! I found it well worth my time and I enjoyed the information I learned. I had to go online several times to learn about the historical events and religions and ethnicities I never had heard about before. I wish I knew exactly what Zarah's contributions to this book are versus what Robert Hillman's influence must be.
I felt sympathy for Zarah's imprisonment and torture and great joy in her release. I was grateful she was not raped. I admired the humor and relationship she had with Sohrab in spite of the circumstances. At times I was annoyed by her "I'm a princess"-attitude. A few times I was disappointed for her weakness and willingness to cave in to the interogators. Just like her, I imagine myself strong and unbreakable in the face of torture, but perhaps it is all a fantasy in my mind and I would succumb too.
A couple of recurring themes brought her complex story to simple terms, for example the issue of her desire for pink shoes and feeling the sun on her hair. I sense her desire was far far deeper, perhaps to the point of complete sexual liberation. Although the book led me to love her and want to protect her, I still wonder if she would be one of the girls in the LDS church who mock, in attitude and in practice, the old-fogey church leaders and the standards in the "For the Strength of Youth" pamphlet. Here is what she said:
A couple of recurring themes brought her complex story to simple terms, for example the issue of her desire for pink shoes and feeling the sun on her hair. I sense her desire was far far deeper, perhaps to the point of complete sexual liberation. Although the book led me to love her and want to protect her, I still wonder if she would be one of the girls in the LDS church who mock, in attitude and in practice, the old-fogey church leaders and the standards in the "For the Strength of Youth" pamphlet. Here is what she said:
"...in the Iran I grew up in, respect for Islam, admiration of its philosophical and spiritual core, was not quite enough. One was asked to practice superpiety. If I had grown up in a Calvinist state, in an orthodox Jewish state, in a fundamentalist Protestant state, (insert LDS state here) in any state that insisted on a severe expression of belief, I would have faced the same problems. ...I couldn't make myself believe that my salvation depended on following an ironclad set of rules that had the effect of placing the thrill and wonder of being alive at such a remote distance from my natural appetites."
That yearning to fulfill her "natural appetites" is what bothers me as I have been indoctrinated from my youth and I have a spiritual conviction that overcoming the natural man is godliness...yet thankfully our true religion also teaches that many "natural appetites" are God-given and are to be used in the right place and the right time, not completely avoided. She explains why she preferred the Zoroastrianism of her mother of the Islamic religion of her father: "There was nothing hard-line about them, nothing dogmatic. Zoroastrianism is not a proselyting religion." She simply wanted a religion that is easy to live that didn't make her feel guilty.
I disagree with the moral relativism I find in some of her statements. For example,
"The stories I read to my children will not by stories of martyrs. The rules I lay down for them will have nothing to do with sacrifices, nothing to do with an afterlife; the rules will only insist on courtesy, tolerance. Their obligations will be to find happiness, and preserve it."
I disagree with the moral relativism I find in some of her statements. For example,
"The stories I read to my children will not by stories of martyrs. The rules I lay down for them will have nothing to do with sacrifices, nothing to do with an afterlife; the rules will only insist on courtesy, tolerance. Their obligations will be to find happiness, and preserve it."
Perhaps her perspective is to be expected when she has been "forced" to believe in certain ways and to do certain things. My gratitude is renewed for a free country and a religion that recognizes the eternal principle of agency.
Her admiration of Western welfare systems turns my stomach.
This book satisfied my curiosity about the inner workings of Iranian leaders. They are what I expected them to be. The torture I expected. The hypocrisy I knew existed.
"Hypocrisy became a special hatred of ours - the hypocrisy of a government that awarded all sorts of treats to the people who endorsed its ideology, whether or not the endorsement was sincere, and withheld favors from those who voiced even the mildest criticism of those in power."
Her admiration of Western welfare systems turns my stomach.
This book satisfied my curiosity about the inner workings of Iranian leaders. They are what I expected them to be. The torture I expected. The hypocrisy I knew existed.
"Hypocrisy became a special hatred of ours - the hypocrisy of a government that awarded all sorts of treats to the people who endorsed its ideology, whether or not the endorsement was sincere, and withheld favors from those who voiced even the mildest criticism of those in power."
Over the last several years I had given up hope that liberty and democracy in the middle east would spring from the hearts of the people just as in the American Revolution. Zarah renewed some hope that there are people in the middle east that have some vision of liberty...maybe, just maybe there will be a Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Franklin, or Madison among them.
Interested at the conflict of being raised in a political environment opposed to her families beliefs. I wonder if my kids will grow up forced to embrace socialism at school and in public while at home I teach them about true liberty from the writings of the founding fathers, Bastiat, Ayn Rand, Ezra T Benson and J. Rueben Clark.
Interested at the conflict of being raised in a political environment opposed to her families beliefs. I wonder if my kids will grow up forced to embrace socialism at school and in public while at home I teach them about true liberty from the writings of the founding fathers, Bastiat, Ayn Rand, Ezra T Benson and J. Rueben Clark.
"I knew that all was not right when liberties I enjoyed at home vanished the moment I walked out our front door. A habit of questioning took root in me." "...the danger is that you will become what you do; that your silent sympathies will wither for lack of expression."
On the Culture of Grief
"Iranians feel grief very deeply, regardless of religion. Grief has its roots deep in our Persian past. The depth of our grieving has to do with the importance of love in our culture. ...And a death in the family was a catastrophe."
At first I asked myself, "What about their religious beliefs in the afterlife? Doesn't that give them comfort?" I quickly recalled that grief really is a cultural thing. In Argentina people really know how to grieve - long, hard, and passionately. I remember when one teenage kid in the ward got shot by other kids who stole his shoes. He was shot in the mouth with a .22 caliber and it blew out some teeth and exited his cheek. He was fortunate that the bullet didn't have a deadly aim. The ward testimony meeting the week this happened turned out to be a three hour funeral-like service with every member of the ward getting up and trying to out-do each others demonstration of grief. I saw more grief then than I ever saw related to 9-11. We Westerners just have a completely different grief culture. Admittedly ethno-centric, I like western grief better...it is far more productive. Perhaps our lack of western grief is a reflection of our lack of deeper love.
Interesting Quotes:
When discussing courtship in Iran, Zarah makes the statement "the essence of romance is often better preserved by constraints than by license."
"...the real theme of good poetry is liberty. I have never read a fine poem or story that condoned repression and rejoiced in the unfettered power of the mullahs."
"...as with almost all nations in time of war, those in power defined and redefined patriotic behavior."
Interesting Quotes:
When discussing courtship in Iran, Zarah makes the statement "the essence of romance is often better preserved by constraints than by license."
"...the real theme of good poetry is liberty. I have never read a fine poem or story that condoned repression and rejoiced in the unfettered power of the mullahs."
"...as with almost all nations in time of war, those in power defined and redefined patriotic behavior."
Monday, March 23, 2009
Am I my (Iranian) brother's keeper?
I do apologize for the delay in writing this post, and appreciate everyone's patience. Hopefully no one interpreted the delay to mean I would have anything particularly insightful to say here...
I generally liked the book. It was recommended to me by a friend of mine along with several others about Iran. I selected this one as it seemed most appropriate for this forum (in content, readability, length---yes this is a swipe at you, Karl). I didn't find it particularly well written, but that almost made it more endearing as it seemed more likely to actually have been written by the Zarah we get to know in the text.
My scattered thoughts:
1. Zarah as paper hero
I enjoyed the honesty with which Zarah confronts her own inability to live up to the hero she'd hoped she was or would be. As she is first brought to prison she romanticizes the strength with which she will maintain her composure, her clear head, her ideals and loyalties. She quickly learns how shallow her resolve truly was, and returns to this idea throughout the book. I of course couldn't help wonder how I would fare in such a situation, and how quickly I would forsake those same things. Her experience is far beyond anything I have endured of course and I do not wish to trivialize it. Yet even she "was not yet as Job". I am left feeling less secure in my own "core" beliefs and values and also more in awe of those who have endured much and yet remained true. And of course grateful that I have not yet had to find out the true strength of my convictions.
2. Impact of suffering
This is in part a follow-on to #1. Zarah writes about suffering:
"It's OK if you already have character and wisdom and courage, but if you don't, suffering won't build such things in your heart and soul. It will consume what little courage you have, and then you are left with nothing."
It was interesting how quickly Zarah turned from dreams of escape and freedom to dreams of revenge and violence. I don't think this is just suffering---she was subjected to massive mental stress designed to "break her"---but suffering is certainly part of it. But the point of course is that suffering need not be ennobling. It is merely a "refiner's fire" that brings true substance to the surface. Is it an accident that when Zarah was alone she had nowhere to turn but her pain and her deranged friend in the cell above? Zarah throughout the book espouses a view of the world that is basically "humanist"---no God, just "be nice to everyone". Had she a relationship with God would it have helped sustain her in her trials?
3. Am I my (Iranian) brother's keeper?
The most difficult part of the book for me was to envision these events occuring today while I lounged about my comfortable house reading. Obviously there is suffering in the world, but there is something particularly troubling about suffering directly caused by men to other men. Some suffering "will always be with us"---that is the nature of this life. But this suffering need not be.
At one point in the book Zarah loses her blindfold while out in the hall and gets a brief glimpse at the size of the prison. She describes it as a "city within a city"---hundreds of doors leading to hundreds of cells populated by hundreds of people like Zarah. What obligation do I have to those people? Obviously there is a political dimension here: Bush saying that "freedom is God's gift to mankind" came to mind as I read. Do we as citizens have an obligation to direct our government to fight against the injustices perpetrated within other countries? As one who strives to generally separate my own morality from public policy this is not an easy question.
But the political dimension was secondary. Most primary I was left with a sense of alternating guilt/selfishness and helplessness. I wonder how naive I must be that I find this book troubling when I know its content to be representative of what occurs in so many parts of the world. Will I not one day have to answer when asked what I did for those like Zarah?
Looking forward to your thoughts.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Mid-march and I'm mad
I'm sure Alvin is reveling in March Madness, despite BYU's early exit. Are there other college basketball fans among us? I'm at best a passive consumer of the NCAA tournament, prefering to focus on preseason baseball (18 days until opening day! hot dog!)
Anyway, I saw this news article on an Irani journalist who killed himself (or was killed? who knows) inside Evin prison recently. It reminded me that we're middle of the month and no discussion of our book. I know Jesse's been very busy (how did that deal with the contractor work out, BTW?), so I'm willing to cut a little slack. But I'm still really interested in having the discussion; I liked My Life as a Traitor a lot, and I'm interested in people's thoughts.
So anyway, since we haven't had a "meeting" yet in March, and since East of Eden is, you know, LONG... I propose we just push the April discussion of East of Eden to May, and shove everyone back a month. Everyone okay with that?
Anyway, I saw this news article on an Irani journalist who killed himself (or was killed? who knows) inside Evin prison recently. It reminded me that we're middle of the month and no discussion of our book. I know Jesse's been very busy (how did that deal with the contractor work out, BTW?), so I'm willing to cut a little slack. But I'm still really interested in having the discussion; I liked My Life as a Traitor a lot, and I'm interested in people's thoughts.
So anyway, since we haven't had a "meeting" yet in March, and since East of Eden is, you know, LONG... I propose we just push the April discussion of East of Eden to May, and shove everyone back a month. Everyone okay with that?
Monday, March 2, 2009
April 2009: East of Eden
Being now a resident of California, and having spent a little touring/camping/driving time in Monterey and the Salinas Valley, I've decided it's time for me to revisit John Steinbeck. So I've decided upon "East of Eden" for our April book. Yes, I know it's long. Sorry. Deal with it.
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