Of the four novels Nafisi describes in Reading Lolita in Tehran (Nabokov's Lolita, Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, James' Daisy Miller and Austen's Pride and Prejudice), I'd read them all except Henry James. As such, this was my least favourite part of the book. But the others? Outstanding.

Azar Nafisi was an absolute joy to read and she brings her rich experience of living in post-revolution Iran to life on the pages. It'll take me a while to get over those gorgeously written passages where she describes the wind or the sunlight, but the true gem of the book is how she describes people. All names (except those of the dead) were changed to protect people's identity, and yet I feel so close to the girls described. Through the real joys and intense, awful hardships, this book is a diamond in the rough.

To read a book about women who read Lolita in Tehran is to open the window to a world of dismay, in which even an act so pure and simple as enjoying fiction is considered treason, punishable by the wrongly proclaimed authorities in your life. I am constantly on the lookout for books which challenge my view of the world, or who have the power to paint a picture of another way of life, that I have been fortunate enough to never experience. "Reading Lolita in Tehran" is one of those books.

By no means am I stating that this is a perfect book. Far from it. A five star rating does not excuse shabby writing or clichee moments; it rather includes them. A good writer must, beyond everything else, convey a message by way of building a world. Azar Nafisi is a good writer.

This work forces you to take your clothes off at the door, just as her students did their chadors when they entered her Thursday classes in her house. You cannot walk through it if you are clothed in all of your opinions, beliefs and thoughts as if they were an armor. This is not the place to stand up and voice your point of view - this is the place to sit down and listen attentively as someone else teaches you about their way of life.

The timeline of this work encapsulates most of Nafisi's life as a liberal literature teacher in Tehran, living under constant pressure and threat because of the audacity she had to teach works of fiction that didn't support a political agenda: Nabokov, Austen, James, Fitzgerald, the list goes on. She encouraged her students to discuss the works of fiction not as if they were supposed to have real ties to the world, but as if they were only an exercise of imagination, directed at making us better people by increasing our ability to empathize with others. Nafisi was lucky - although here, as she says, the concept of fortune receives a very weird meaning - because she kept her life and integrity in a time when so many lost theirs. She paints a picture for the reader of the life she led, as well as the different lives of her female students who ended up following her in her home after she gave up formal teaching. In that room with a mirror in which the reflection of the mountains was hanged like a painting, they drank coffee, ate pastry and discussed their situation by discussing the characters in all of the books that had been denied by the regime.

I've read some reviews on the book and many readers were put off by the 'tone' which Nafisi uses, giving herself more importance than maybe she had, speaking of her acts as if they were revolutionary. Yes, she does. Because yes, they were. In a world where reading fiction can get you killed, reading fiction becomes a revolution in itself. I only read and felt the voice of a woman who, without thinking about the consequences, tried to keep as much of her integrity as possible, whilst pursuing her passion: teaching. Her situation had been different than the other girls', and she had been more fortunate in growing up in a liberal family. But the courage to act in a repressive system does not base itself on who you were in the past: it has everything to do with who you choose to be in this very second. A good teacher must show you what you yourself can be capable of. Nafisi was a good teacher.

I'm confident that this should be read by women all across the world, especially in the times that we live in. For someone who has a better-than-average knowledge of the social and cultural system of Islam in relation to women, I still found it a wonderfully eye-opening read.

On its surface, this book seems to show Iranian women being forced to seek their intellectual freedom in the secrecy of a private female space. But Nafisi also shows the pre-developed depth of these women’s reflections in relation to the whole world. As Cassius Peck observed, “None of the women in Nafisi’s class fits the American stereotype of Iranians … Nafisi’s students represent seven different attitudes toward Islam, toward the regime, and toward the future.” It is one of the most thought-provoking book clubs yet recorded.

Many fellow ethnic-Iranian scholars, such as Nesta Ramazani, have protested that Nafisi’s love of Western literature seems to eclipse all consideration for contemporary Persian literature. Concerning "Reading Lolita in Tehran," she wrote "A reader unfamiliar with Persian literature will reach the last page of [Nafisi’s] book without any inkling that there exist many contemporary works written by Iranian women, the reading of which could have been an equally subversive act as reading Nabokov ... Nafisi thus seems to make the reading of Western literature the necessary requisite for redemption and liberation of the mind."

Ramazani has a point—the number of published female novelists in Iran has risen since the 1970s, from about 12 up to 370 by around 2010. But other critics read a more ideological agenda into Nafisi’s vocational role of teaching Western literature. Columbia University scholar Hamid Dalashi accused Nafisi of serving the interests of “U.S. ideological warmongering,” and showing “unfailing hatred of everything Iranian.” As usual with ideological polemics, that sort of rhetoric overlooks a lot of love.

"Il mio soggiorno si trasformò per tutte noi nel regno della libertà più assoluta. Un vero paese delle meraviglie. Sedute intorno al tavolino, coperto di mazzi di fiori, entravamo e uscivamo dai nostri romanzi. Guardandomi indietro, mi stupisco ancora di quanto abbiamo imparato, e senza nemmeno accorgercene. Nabokov lo aveva descritto, quello che ci sarebbe successo: avremmo scoperto come il banale ciottolo della vita quotidiana, se guardato attraverso l'occhio magico della letteratura, possa trasformarsi in pietra preziosa."

Il potere salvifico dell'astrazione tramite la letteratura.
In un Iran schiacciato da una società totalitaria, con il mullah al potere, e dove i diritti civili vengono calpestati ogni giorno, un gruppo di ragazze e la loro insegnante creano un angolo di libertà, per poter affermare la propria identità, confrontarsi e crescere, istituendo un gruppo di lettura condivisa tra le mura domestiche confortevoli e sicure.

In quel rifugio, per qualche ora, possono sognare di essere diverse. Possono abbandonare le maschere che sono costrette a portare ogni giorno per sopravvivere. Possono fingere che non ci siano pregiudizi e prevaricazioni.

Un libro coinvolgente, che offre anche tanti spunti di approfondimento per future letture.

Ora più che mai sono convinta che un libro possa salvarti.
Che qualcosa, al di lá di quelle pagine, ti viene a cercare.
Non ti tende la mano, perché a volte, esprimersi in questi termini sarebbe riduttivo, persino sterile di fronte all quel tipo di emozione che ti attanaglia lo stomaco senza più lasciarlo andare.
È più come ricevere una trasfusione. Sangue puro, che irrora le vene come un fiume in piena e le ripulisce dal veleno che ti macchia l’anima, ti dilania il cuore brano a brano.

Ci penso da giorni, è come un’aria che non svanisce e che mi avvolge come una bolla di sapone intrisa dei coloro dell’iride.

Dire che questo libro è un inno alla letteratura sarebbe fin troppo semplicistico. Io penso che questo sia un inno a tutt’altro, a qualcosa di fondamentale e trasparente: È un inno alla VITA; alla fantasia, all’immaginazione, al CORAGGIO di lottare per i propri sogni nonostante i propri limiti interiori, al coraggio di amare davvero, facendosi male, nonostante gli ostacoli esterni...

I libri possono salvare.
È Azar Nafisi te lo dimostra.

Cara Azar, dopo aver letto questo libro, con l lacrime agli occhi penso solo una cosa: avrei voluto che fossi la mi professoressa.

Solo chi ama la letteratura come la ama un lettore potrà capire la pazza emozione con la quale non smetto di fissare la copertina che stringerò fra le mani, alla fine di questo grande viaggio che mi ha ricomposto l’anima che sentivo in pezzi.

People with courage and character have my greatest admiration and respect.

این کتاب آذر نفیسی را به دو دلیل دوست دارم. مثل هر کتابش به چندین کتاب دیگه اشاره کرده و کاملا مشخصه نویسنده، خواننده حرفه ای هم هست. دلیل دوم اینکه این قصه قصه ی هوایی ست که من درش نفس کشیدم و با این دختران همذات پنداری میکنم. نقد من به این کتاب هم به همین دلیله. یادم نمیاد کتابهای جین آستین و نوباکوف هیچ وقت در ایران ممنوع بوده. یا دلیلی نمیدیدم که این دختران یک جای امن و مخفی را برای جلسات کتابخوانی پیدا کنند. به راحتی در یک فضای عمومی میشد جلسه کتابخوانی برای کتابهایی که ممنوع نبودند برگزار کرد. من هیچ و هیچ زمان نمیگم وضعیت عالی بود که صد البته نبود و خاطرات تلخ آنروزها را هیچ زمان از یاد نمیبرم ولی انصافا کتابهای جین آستین همیشه در قفسه کتاب فروشی ها موجود بود. نکته دیگه اینکه چرا نفیسی در هیچ کدام از کتاب‌هایش از نویسنده های ایرانی نامی نبرده؟ چندین جمله از نویسنده های خارجی نوشته که نویسنده های ایرانی بسیار زیباتر توصیف کرده اند. نمیتوانم باور کنم کسی که از بهترین کتابخوانهای ایرانیه از این متون بی اطلاع باشه. همه حرف من اینه که خیلی غم انگیزه اگر این کتاب را در قفسه “کتابهایی که برای رضایت مخاطب غربی نوشته شده.” بگذارم. پر فروش بودن عجیب این کتاب هم این سئوال را پررنگتر میکنه.

I bought this book years ago and let it sit on my shelf collecting dust until recently. I am so glad I finally picked it up! Aside from the one-sided reports I’ve seen on the news, I’ve always been ignorant of all things Iran. This book educated me on the history of the country and opened my eyes to the beauty and fortitude of the people (specifically the women) who call it home. Nafisi writes about her life before, during, and after her time in Iran through the lense of the Western classics she read and taught for so many years. Reading Lolita in Tehran is a beautiful testament to the human spirit and the transformative power of literature. — Kate Scott



From The Best Books We Read In March: http://bookriot.com/2015/04/01/riot-r...

3 نجمات على مبدأ انتهاج الوسطية !
محير هذا الكتاب الذي عمل على 3 محاور ايضاً ...

تحاول السيدة نفيسي ان تقرأ ايران من خلال روايات الادب الامريكي تقرأ لوليتا ، ولـ جويس، اوستن.
تتحدث عن ايران ما بعد الثورة: ايران الجمهورية الاسلامية، وعن الرقيب الاعمى، وعن شخصنة السياسة لدرجة يتحول فيها طلاء الاظافر الى خيانة.

كان يمكننا ان تعاطف جداً مع السيدة نفيسي وعن النساء الجميلات الثائرات اللواتي يحاولنا قول لأ ... كان يمكننا ان نفعل ذلك لو ان السيدة نفيسي توقفت فعلاً عند منتصف الكتاب، ولم تحاول ان تعيده في الجزء الثاني بطريقة مملة.

لم تكف عن الشكوى، ومحاولة الهروب لا المواجهة، لم تكف عن تعليق المشاكل على شماعة واحدة، سعدت جداً انها لم تتردد في نقل هذا الشعور الذي اصابني على لسان ساحرها.

اتخذت نفيسي الحجاب هدف ممتازاً لتوجيه قذائفها ضد النظام، بطريقة بدت سطحية، وتجلى ذلك عندما تبنت قول ابنتها نيغاز عند موت الخميني "لا لم يمت ما زالت النساء يرتدين الاشاربات".

المرعب في هذا الكتاب ان احداثه تعيد نفسها الآن في مكان آخر مع أناس أخرين، كم سخيف هذا التاريخ حين لا نستفيد منه، ان نظن أننا اكثر حنكة من الأخرين لنقبل بكل جرأة على تكرار تجربتهم وتوقع نتائج مغايرة لأننا فقط مختلفون !!

Popsugar Challenge 2021 - A book by a Muslim American author

Going into this book I never thought I'd get emotional but this is a tough read.

This is the author's memoir of her book club and literature teachings in Iran. Here we follows the lives of a group of women who slowly have their human rights stripped away from them. We watch these ladies go from full freedoms we take for granted to being entirely controlled by their government.  Women being stoned to death because of men reporting they are getting sexually aroused because they saw the tiniest part of a woman's neck. Women being executed because of the way they walk. The way they eat.

We see girls that have only known a restricted and controlled life under the regime who read the works of Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte and the whole concept of love not being something they can relate too.

As a women this was a hard read and knowing this regime continues to this day hurts uncomfortably. The last UN report I saw mentioned Iran is 152/157 country for women's rights. Its unreal this is happening right now. Still.

The women who get up everyday and live this bullshit, who are trying their best to get by, full of fear of their own governments and still have hope for a better tomorrow, I honestly can not get my head around the depth of their inner strength.

This memoir about the power of books in a time of crisis and oppression definitely falls short of the transitive powers the novels it details possess. Though the overall message of the book is a powerful one, its disjointed narrative structure, organized by theme rather than true chronological order, left me more confused than inspired and did not help in my understanding of the bigger picture.

For someone fairly out of the loop as far as politics and world issues go, especially issues that started before I was born, I was very confused as to what was going on with the regime in Iran during the book. I could never tell what the separate groups were fighting for, who was in power, or who, if anyone, the author supported. The disjointed structure of the narration, skipping backwards and forwards in time at random intervals, also caused me to lose track of what events were influencing other events and how the people she discussed fit into the grand scheme of things. I feel like some sort of timeline or at least direction to a website for further information would have really helped clear things up in that regard, if an un-chronological narrative structure was necessary to the story.

Also unhelpful to the clarity of the memoir was Nafisi’s inconsistent dialogue notations. At some points she used quotation marks, and at other points she dropped them all together. Whole conversations were contained in single paragraphs, making it difficult to tell who was saying what. This uncertainty left me in doubt about the characters’ personalities and voices.

It was interesting to see how the moral debates in the novels the students read in Nafisi’s classes fueled the debates about what was going on in their own government at the time. Though the best novels always allow the reader to make personal connections, sometimes it is difficult to see how the people in places as vastly different as Henry James’ America and late twentieth century Iran can have so much in common. However, as one of Nafisi’s students comments in her journal, “‘[I]t was good to know that even in a decadent society like America there were still some norms, some standards according to which people were judged’” (199). Though those standards were certainly not the same in Iran as they were in America, the fact that there are rules and conventions in any place at any time indicates that there will be people there to rebel against such rules. Nafisi and her favorite students are the real life reflections of those who defied society in the novels they so cherished.

I found the information and analyses of the books they read in class to be enlightening, provided I had read the book they were discussing. However, in the case of probably half the books they discussed I was lost without a plot synopsis and missed many of the points they were making about the connections to their own culture. I suppose this is less of a negative about the book and more of a reflection on my reading habits and a sign that I should improve them.

More than a combination of literary criticism and memoirs of living through the totalitarian ruthlessness of Islamist-ruled Iran, this book essentially examines how the author and a group of friends took refuge in literature from the totalitarian nightmare.
And at the same time using that literature to make sense of life under Islamo-Nazi repression.
The women in the group are able to make analogies of the works of Vladimir Nabokov, Jane Austen, Henry James and F Scott Fitzgerald with the society in which they live.
The villain of Nabokov's Lolita, Humbert, rapes a twelve year old girl and thus the book is about the confiscation of one individuals life by another.
Humbert has tried to shape another soul according to his own hopes and dreams.
So the author is taking revenge on the Ayatollah and the Mullahs for confiscating the lives of the people of Iran, for their war against women.

This is a society in which girls are punished most brutally for wearing coloured shoe laces, running in the school yard or licking ice cream in public. Where women are flogged for wearing nail polish.

Marxist and left wing feminists in the West pour scorn on taking up the cause of oppressed women in Iran, as the Iranian Marxists did at the beginning of the Islamic Revolution of 1979, before they themselves became victims.
"They claimed that there were bigger fish to fry' the author explains "That the imperialists and their lackeys need to be dealt with first. Focusing on women's rights was individualistic and bourgeois and played into their hands"
"What imperialists?" asks the author acting as a much needed voice of true conscience 'Do you mean those battered and bruised faces on television confessing to their crimes? Do you mean the prostitutes they recently stoned to death, or my former school principal Mrs Parsa, who like the prostitutes was accused of "corruption on earth", "sexual offences", and "violation of decency and morality" for having been the minister of education. For which offenses was she put in a sack and then shot or stoned to death. Are those the lackeys you are talking about, and is it in order to wipe these people out that we have to not protest?"

Azar Nafisi has been indeed accused by leftist and Islamist radicals in the West of serving the 'imperialist' or 'neoconservative' cause by writing this novel.
So once again the dreams of the people of Iran to enjoy the same freedom , Nafisi's leftwing critics in the West enjoy are denied.
Like Humbert in Lolita, the Western Left want to confiscate the lives of the long-suffering people of Iran and shape them according to the formers own hopes and dreams.
Like Humbert and like all great myth makers they try to fashion reality of their dream and end up destroying reality and their dream?
Nafisi is a true feminist who really cares about the rights and welfare of women unlike so many left wing self-styled feminists in the West, who want people moulded according to their ideals, and have never spoken up for the persecution of women by Islamists, for their own selfish reason