The Nights Are Quiet in Tehran

#RivetingReviews: Mandy Wight reviews THE NIGHTS ARE QUIET IN TEHRAN by Shida Bazyar, translated by Ruth Martin

by Mandy Wight, #RivetingReviews, European Literature Network

This is the story of a young Iranian couple, Behzad and Nahid, who flee Iran after the 1979 Revolution and settle and have a family in West Germany. Their story is told in four sections – each one narrated by a different member of the family – taking place at ten yearly intervals, often coinciding with significant events in Iran, and capturing both Iranian and German society at particular moments in time. Behzad is a revolutionary, and political developments in Iran are very much at the forefront of the narrative, yet these are interwoven with the characters’ personal lives, family relationships and the experience of exile and loss of culture. 

We first meet Behzad in 1979, when the Shah has been deposed, and progressive political activists are on the streets campaigning for a fairer society. Behzad and his comrades dream that portraits of the Shah in each schoolroom will be replaced by those of Che and Castro, of Mao and Lenin. For all the heady revolutionary fervour, the allusions to street fighting and blood, Behzad at twenty-seven still lives at home, enjoying observing the womenfolk prepare stuffed vine leaves, aware his mother watches him intently as he leaves to join the protests ‘as if she’s trying to memorise my face’. He’s also aware of a young woman amongst their group with serious, clever eyes – Nahid. As the revolution progresses it’s clear that religious elements are taking control, and within a short space of time, the revolutionaries have been outdone by Ayatollah Khomeini. The Revolutionary Guard starts carrying out the torture and executions of political opponents, and Behzad and his comrades start fearing for their lives.

Filmmaker Homa Sarabi maps her place in the world

Sarabi's inscribed pieces of parchment drape down to the floor in her office at the Boston Center for the Arts. Courtesy Jesse Costa/WBUR.

by Khari Thompson, WBUR

On the wall of Homa Sarabi’s office at Boston Center for the Arts hang three pieces of parchment, so long they drape down to the floor. Tracks of black and red calligraphy snake up and down the paper. Those who read Farsi will notice words for “right” and “left” repeating on the pages, corresponding with the transcription's changes of direction.

These murals are journeys etched in ink.

Each sheet tells the story of a walk the Iranian-born artist and filmmaker took with a friend, which she transcribed afterward. The catch: the two walkers were thousands of miles apart — usually with Sarabi in Boston, her walking partner in Tehran, and nothing but a phone and their voices connecting them.

“I was on a call with a friend one day, and I was like, 'What if we tried going on a walk together?' Because that's a thing we would do in Tehran was just walk for hours and hours. And I really missed that,” Sarabi told WBUR of the project's roots.