La mia fantasia ricorrente è che alla Carta Costituzionale dei diritti dell'Uomo venga aggiunta la voce: diritto all'immaginazione. Ormai mi sento convinta che la vera democrazia non può esistere senza la libertà di immaginazione e il diritto di usufruire liberamente delle opere di fantasia.
Per vivere una vita vera,completa,bisogna avere la possibilità di dar forma ed espressione ai propri mondi privati, ai propri sogni,pensieri e desideri; bisogna che il tuo mondo privato possa sempre comunicare col mondo di tutti.Altrimenti come facciamo a sapere che siamo esistiti?
"I fatti concreti di cui parliamo non esistono, se non vengono ricreati e ripetuti attraverso le emozioni, i pensieri e le sensazioni."


Cosa fareste voi se vi si impedisse di vivere come avete sempre vissuto? Se tutto ad un tratto foste costretti a sottostare a regole che vi sembrano incomprensibili e senza senso? Se cercassero di soffocare la persona che siete?
Non cerchereste forse un luogo dove rifugiarvi?
Io ,personalmente, non conosco rifugio migliore della letteratura; e se perfino questa divenisse illegale?

"Fino al giorno in cui mi minacciarono di non lasciarmi più leggere, non seppi di amare la lettura: si ama, forse, il proprio respiro?"

Scout ne: "Il Buio oltre la Siepe" ci aveva visto giusto...

P.S. Grazie a te per avermi regalato questo libro, è stato come un sorso d' acqua per un assetato, come sempre ci hai visto giusto,e sei arrivata con le parole giuste quando ne avevo bisogno, seppur per bocca di un' altra. :)

I'm not sure I can finish this book. It's just so boring and self-important. And poorly written. My eyes keep crossing. It makes me angry because I think this COULD really be a good book. It has a good premise, a lot of potential, and it's about a topic I'm actually very interested in and would like to know more about. But instead it's dry as hell and doesn't follow any cohesive pattern--it just feels like a lot of random moments in the life of Azar Nafisi strung together by some run-of-the-mill literary criticism. And maybe worst of all, it doesn't make me feel any more empathetic to the Iranian people than I already did and it doesn't give me any additional insight into Islamic culture that I haven't already gotten from Western media sources.

Why did this get such good reviews? Do people never read books and judge them for themselves? Or do they just say what they think they're supposed to say because they were told this is a terribly important book about a terribly important topic by a terribly important person? *sigh*

أن تقرأ لوليتا في طهران
تخيل أيها القارئ ( عبارة ستصطدم بها كثيرا في هذا الكتاب تأتيك كصفعة أحيانا خصوصا حين تكون معارضا للنفيسي) تخيل أنك تجلس على مكتبك و أمامك كتب أدبية منتقاة بعناية فائقة و كتاب واحد سياسي يتحدث عن الثورة الاسلامية الايرانية و شذرات من أوراق حياة أستاذة جامعية ..تخيل نفسك تقرأ من هذا و ذاك مستمتعا بهذا و رافضا ذاك..فتتداخل الأفكار في عقلك ووجدانك مسببة فوضى و صداع و أحيانا صراعات قد تنتهي بقرارات قد ترضيك و قد لا ترضيك ..تخيل اذن لو جمعت كل تلك الفوضى أمامك في كتاب واحد هو أن تقرأ لوليتا في طهران..
تخيل أن تحمل هذا الكتاب و تعبر به نفق مظلم و في يدك شمعة تنطفئ أحيانا تحت سطوة نسمة عابرة مجبرة اياك أن تحيا في ظلمة قصيرة تفكر في بعض ما جاء في الكتاب و باحثا في ذات الوقت عن عود ثقاب لتشعل تلك الشمعة مجددا و تكمل المسير ..هذا ما قد يحصل لك كما حصل معي أثناء قرائتي لهذا الكتب.
فلنتوقف قليلا عند العنوان" أن تقرأ لوليتا في طهران' لما أختارت النفيسي هذا الكتاب دون غيره عنوانا رغم انها ذكرت كتبا أخرى كغاتسبي العظيم و اعمال جين اوستن..وجدت أن اختيارها قد يكون نابع من سببين أولها ربط الثورة الايرانية بالثورة الروسية و ثانيهما و هو الأقرب في نظري الصدمة التي قد يحدثها العنوان كنوع من الدعاية للكتاب لهذا أنصح الراغبين في قراءة هذا الكتاب ان يعرجوا قليلا على أعمال نابكوف خاصة لوليتا لتتضح له الرؤية فالنفيسي أرادت ان تضع نفسها بجانب ناباكوف و هي المغرمة بهذا الكاتب لحد الجنون أرادت أن تربط بين غضبها و رفضها للثورة الاسلامية و رفض ناباكوف للثورة الروسية ...
فلنعد الآن للمضمون..سيرة النفيسي تعالج فترة جد مهمة من تاريخ ايران قد ابالغ ان قلت تعالج فالمعالجة السياسية بالتأكيد تحتاج الى خبرة أكثر و حيادية أعم لم نجدهما في هذا الكتاب لأنها تحكي وجهة نظر شخصية حتى لو استغلت حكايا تلميذاتها أو بناتها كما تناديهن..فلنستبدل كلمة معالجة و نقول الكتاب يشير الى فترة ما بين 1979-1997
بين اندلاع الثورة الايرانية و خروجها من ايران متجهة نحو امريكا الهروب من الضد نحو الضد ..يا للمصادفة
أعترف أني لم أكن حيادية أحيانا في القراءة و وجدت نفسي مضطرة أن اهمس للنفيسي متفقة معك تماما .. فالثورة الاسلامية الايرانية لها من الأخطاء ما يكون عادة لكل الثورات فليست الثورة منزهة و تكفي نظرة واحدة لواقعنا المعاصر لنتأكد من الأمر..و لم أمنع نفسي من الضحك الأسود الغاضب و النفيسي تقتبس عن كتاب الخميني" المباديء السياسية والفلسفية والاجتماعية والدينية" يقول : إذا مارس رجل الجنس مع دجاجة فهل يجوز له أكلها بعد ذلك؟ الإجابة : كلا لا هو ولا أي أحد من أفراد أسرته الأقربين ولا الجار القريب يجوز له أن يأكل من لحم تلك الدجاجة، ولكن لا بأس مع الجار الذي يسكن على بعد بابين ..
بالله عليكم ...فلنصمت و نعود للكتاب قلت ساندتها أحيانا..لكني رفضت نظرتها الشخصية- و يجب التأكيد على هذا الأمر الشخصية- لمسألة الحجاب كما استهجنت أيضا أريحيتها في الـتأكيد على حبها للحم الهام "لحم الخنزير " و كأن ايران تخلو من لحم غيره و أضف لهذا الخمر بكل انواعها هذا كله كان موجودا في ايران تحت حكم الخميني ...غريب هذا الربط الحتمي بين المثقف و المفكر و بين كل ما يحرمه الدين فهل الخمر و التدخين و لحم الخنزير و أن اعري كتفي و صدري يجعل مني مثقفة و مفكرة منطق غريب على العموم النقاش حول مسالة الحجاب هل هو مفروض أم غير مفروض يبقى جدل بيزنطي لن يخرج بنتيجة فالأمور واضحة و المرأة المسلمة لا تحتاج لمن يدافع عنها و عن اختياراتها خصوصا من كتب تنشر من خارج الدول الاسلامية من بلاد تنتظرأية فرصة لضرب الاسلام فهذا شيء غير مقبول بتاتا...
على العموم فقراءة النفيسي لايران تحت الحكم الثيوقراطي لم يستهويني جدا بل ما دفعني لأتمم هذا الكتاب هو قراءتها لعدة كتب أدبية و هي قراءة بالتأكيد على درجة كبيرة من الخبرة الاكاديمية تحسب للنفيسي..قراءة جعلتني أغير بعض من أحكامي السابقة على كتب قرأتها أو أهملتها لكني الآن بالتأكيد سأعود اليها بحماس أكثر و رؤية جديدة لا يسعني الا أن أشكر النفيسي على هذا الأمر..الحديث عن الروايات و النقاشات التي تمت في الحرم الجامعي بين النفيسي و الطلبة و بينها و بين طالباتها في الصف الخاص شيء مثير ذكرني بنا نحن رواد هذا الموقع فالنقاش بالتأكيد يثري جدا فلكل منا أسلوبه الخاص في القراءة و مبادئه التي تعكسها ملاحظاته و تعليقاته و نظرته للحياة عموما و هو شيء أجده حيوي و مشجع فكم من كتاب لم أكن لأقرأه لولا تشجيع البعض و كم من فكرة خاطئة أعتبرتها من المسلمات فأجد من يعارضني فيها و يأتي بضدها فاعيد التفكير من جديد ..النفيسي في كتابها هذا بغض النظر عن المسألة الايرانية تدعونا الى اعمال الفكر حين نقرأ و أن لا نكون مجرد عبيد للكلمة نبكي حين تفرح البطلة بل أن نسأل ما سبب الفرح و ما الغاية منه ...لهذا السبب أشكر النفيسي على هذا الكتاب...و أدعوها الى قراءة الاسلام بين الغرب و الشرق لعزت بيغوفيتش ( فهو الكتاب الوحيد الذي يخطر ببالي الآن ومن يجد غيره فليخبرنا به لتعم الفائدة) ادعوها أن تقرأه لتفهم الفرق بين الثقافة و الحضارة فالاسلام ابدا لم يكن دين يجمد الفكر بل على العكس تماما ..و لنا عودة في الموضوع
قراءة ممتعة
نسيت أمرا مهما تحية للمترجمة ريم قيس كبة

I have tried twice. I tried reading Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books and ended up putting it down. Then I tried listening to it on audiobook and I always prefer audiobooks when the author narrates. But I can't finish it. It is going back to the DNF pile. I may try it again in 2024.

What I like about the book:
* I am a huge fan of Azra Nafisi and consider her book, Read Dangerously: The Subversive Power of Literature in Troubled Times, as one of the top books I have read.
* I like women who buck societal norms and I cheer them on!
* I love literature as a way to teach different ideas, instill rebellion, and create change.

What I didn't like about the book:
* I haven't read Lolita and feel that if I had read it, perhaps I would better understand Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books. Perhaps it should be a prerequisite.
* The information and references seemed repetitive.
* The pace was too slow to keep me engaged.

I feel so mixed about this one. I've wanted to read this memoir for a few years since I heard of it, but I didn't begin reading it until it became one of the required texts in my class.

Most of all, I feel uncertain and maybe a little afraid to let Nafisi's experiences and thoughts influence my opinion about Iran and probably Islam in general - she seems to write this memoir for Westerners, especially educated Westerners, and therefore comes off as more than just a little defensive. Also her own Western background (having been raised and educated in the US) makes her quite one-sided, not really giving us the perspective of the ordinary Iranian or Islamic woman living in Iran... Maybe it's not fair to her that I was looking for that in her memoir, and I shouldn't judge it for the picture of Iran she creates. But I was also not very impressed with the way she weaves literature into her story. She sounds like she's actually teaching the novels to us readers, stating clearly and authoritatively just how she thinks we should read those books...

She writes beautifully, I won't deny that! But when I read reviews saying she sounds very self-important, I can see where they are coming from.

I have to do a presentation on this for class, and I'd like to mention some readers' reactions to this novel to go along with my topic. If anyone who reads this review and has read this novel, if you would be so kind, please leave comments about what you felt reading this, and your opinions about Nafisi's view and treatment of literature and the act of reading :)

Non so forse sarò diventata troppo esigente ma se un libro non ha un suo taglio narrativo un suo stile, una impronta, un suo design univoco - se fosse un prodotto - a prescindere che sia alta o bassa letteratura non è questo l'approccio che mi sta a cuore, non riesco a godere della lettura.
Se un libro non lo penso durante la giornata anzi, peggio o al contrario, se lo penso con quel moto di fastidio di quando ti ricordi che tornata a casa devi pulire il bagno o svuotare la lavastoviglie o fare una telefonata che non ti va di fare, leggere diventa come andare in palestra per mantenersi belli fuori ma annoiarsi a morte dentro, attività infruttuosa, dispiacere più che piacere.
Ho deciso che per me la forma sta sopra il
contenuto, sopra l'intreccio, sopra il plot, la suspence, il coinvolgimento, sopra l'argomento nobile aulico o banale, sopra la simpatia o meno verso i personaggi.
Dopo anni di letture posso dirlo con quasi totale certezza.
Nabokov lo esprime meglio di me:

Il banale ciottolo della vita quotidiana, se guardato attraverso l’occhio magico della letteratura può trasformarsi in pietra preziosa

Narrami di un ciottolo ma fallo in modo da diventare per me un ciottolo indimenticabile, il ciottolo della vita.

Perché deve crearsi quel patto invisibile tra lettore e testo scritto che qui non c'è stato.
E non perché io non sia sensibile alle vicissitudini che uomini ma soprattutto donne in una dittatura (islamica iraniana) hanno dovuto subire in termini di privazione della propria libertà, obbligati a condividere un unico slogan religioso e politico, a vivere in un perenne stato di polizia, non solo ma soprattutto attraverso il controllo di aspetti esteriori minimali come un sovversivo smalto colorato sulle unghie, una ciocca di capelli che scappa fuori dal velo, o la promozione in aula di un romanzo che venga là dall'Impero del male (occidente / Usa) fino a giungere ad un controllo degli affetti, del pensiero, soppressione della libertà, carcere, annullamento e distruzione della vita umana.

In questo romanzo non ho sentito autenticità.
È stato come leggere un lungo articolo tra cronaca pubblica e cronaca privata , chiacchiericcio ripetuto nel raccontare la rivoluzione islamica a Teheran dopo la caduta dello Scià, vista nella prospettiva della progressiva restrizione della libertà espressiva soprattutto in ambito accademico, l'autrice insegnava ai tempi e insegna, credo anche tuttora, Letteratura comparata.
A difesa del romanzo devo ammettere che ho saltato paragrafi a pacchi, forse questo approccio non ha giovato, forse ho perso il filo può essere.

Salvo le parti dedicate all'analisi di alcuni capisaldi della letteratura: Jane Austen, Henry James, Fitzgerald, Nabokov, ecco quelle parti sono notevolissime e mi hanno lasciato qualcosa.
Ultima notazione mi chiedo come mai in un romanzo in cui la letteratura rappresenta un linguaggio universale che non dovrebbe avere confini, né limiti in quanto a temi narrabili e narrati, non venga mai nominato il maggiore autore persiano del '900 Sàdeq Hedàyat.
Non vorrei però avere saltato proprio le pagine in cui lo stesso viene citato, nel qual caso mi scuso con l'autrice.

(Per dire ho cominciato un romanzo di Philip Roth ecco lì si vibra si vola già dalle prime righe)

Reading forbidden books in post-revolutionary Iran might seem counterintuitive, or even dangerous; reading a novel like Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita (1955), with its notoriously difficult and controversial subject matter, might seem almost suicidal. Yet Azar Nafisi, an Iranian-born and American-trained professor of modern literature, led a group of her students, young Iranian women, in quietly defying Iran’s Islamist regime by reading Lolita and other forbidden or challenged books, as she chronicled in her 2003 book Reading Lolita in Tehran.

Nafisi, who came from a socially prominent and politically active Tehran family, spent much of her early life in Great Britain, Switzerland, and the United States of America, where she finished her doctoral work in English at the University of Oklahoma. Her return to Iran in 1979 coincided with the Iranian Revolution that deposed the Shah Reza Pahlavi, who had terrorized Iran for decades with his feared SAVAK secret police. Ordinary Iranians of the time might not have anticipated that the Islamists who took power in the country would impose a regime just as cruel and just as dictatorial as that of the shah. The only difference was that, rather than trying for a modernist approach to restoring the classical glories of the Persian Empire, as the shah had done, the Islamists would apply their tyranny on the basis of a twisted fundamentalist interpretation of the Muslim faith.

The early passages of Reading Lolita in Tehran show how the Islamist regime, once it has taken power, became ever more oppressive, particularly in terms of the restrictions it imposed against women – and ever more willing to use violence in order to enforce its laws and rules. The University of Tehran, where Nafisi was teaching at the time, was no “ivory tower” shielded from the regime’s cruelties. The atmosphere of revolutionary fervor only intensified after militants’ seizure of the U.S. Embassy in November of 1979 – a time at which Nafisi happened to be teaching F. Scott Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby. Nafisi recalls that “I was taking some risks in teaching such a book at such a time, when certain books had been banned as morally harmful” (108) – and indeed, she came to find that class discussions became more and more likely to be interrupted by Islamist students who found a book, or the way a book was being taught, “counter-revolutionary” or “un-Islamic.”

Against that backdrop, Nafisi organized a quietly revolutionary movement of her own. She organized a secret class, held in her home, where a group of women students with particularly strong interest in modern literature would gather and read books that the regime had banned or might ban. The students – Azin, Mahshid, Manna, Mitra, Nassrin, Sanaz, Yassi – differ in many things: their cultural background, their socioeconomic status, their attitudes toward the Islamic Republic and the Muslim faith. What they share is a love of literature and a need to share their ideas about literature in an atmosphere that is free of fear.

The book is divided into four sections – “Lolita,” “Gatsby,” “James,” and “Austen” – and in each section, Nafisi and her students draw intriguing parallels between the literature that they are reading and the reality of their lives in revolutionary Iran.

In the “Lolita” section, Nafisi recalls the cruel and perverse attempts by the novel’s narrator, Humbert Humbert, to possess a 12-year-old girl with whom he is obsessed, and links those features of the novel with the Iranian regime’s attempts to achieve total control over the lives of ordinary citizens, particularly women. We learn that one of Nafisi’s students, Sanaz, had gone to the Caspian Sea with some girlfriends for a beach holiday; the girls were arrested by “morality squads” of the Revolutionary Guards, and were held incommunicado, subjected to virginity tests, made to sign false confessions, and sentenced to 25 lashes each – even though they had not violated any of the laws of the regime: no alcoholic beverages, no forbidden tapes or CD’s. From the regime’s perspective, it had to be found that these arrested women had done something; Revolutionary Guards and morality police could not be embarrassed by being found to have unjustly arrested a group of women.

Nafisi sees the parallel between Lolita on the one hand, and the ordeal of Sanaz and her friends on the other, in the way that in both “an act of violence has been committed” – one that “goes beyond the bars, revealing the victim’s proximity and intimacy with [the] jailer” (p. 75). She suggests that “The only way to leave the circle, to stop dancing with the jailer, is to find a way to preserve one’s individuality” (p. 77) – just as Nafisi and her students do with their forbidden-books class in Nafisi’s home.

The ”Gatsby” section, as mentioned above, does address the ironies of teaching a book that is widely considered to be the Great American Novel, at a time when “Death to America!” is the most popular slogan being shouted on the streets of revolutionary Tehran. Beyond that, however, Nafisi once again draws parallels between situations from an important novel and realities of life in the ayatollah’s Iran, noting with sadness

…how similar our own fate was becoming to Gatsby’s. He wanted to fulfill his dream by repeating the past, and in the end he discovered that the past was dead, the present a sham, and there was no future. Was this not similar to our revolution, which had come in the name of our collective past and had wrecked our lives in the name of a dream? (p.144).

In the case of The Great Gatsby, the constant disruptions of Nafisi’s class by a noisy minority of students who oppose her teaching of the novel lead Nafisi to the inspired expedient of putting the novel itself on trial, with students in the class as judge, prosecutor, defense attorney, and jury. These passages are a highlight of Reading Lolita in Tehran, and any reader who values the freedom to read and think for oneself is likely to appreciate the full-throated defense of Gatsby offered by some very bright and very brave students.

By the time of the book’s third section, “James,” it is September of 1980, and the Iran-Iraq War has broken out. History tells us that the war killed more than a million soldiers and more than 100,000 civilians on both sides, and resulted in nothing more than a stalemate that strengthened the position of dictators and tyrants in both countries. Nafisi gives us the grim tableaux of life during wartime – the fear of awaiting the next missile strike, the heartbreak of seeing child soldiers sent to walk through minefields with “keys to paradise” hung round their necks – and once again invokes literary parallels. In those times of war, with groups of revolutionaries roaming the streets on motorcycles to stamp out any activities that might seem anti-war – including any act of mourning for the war’s many dead – Nafisi and her students look at Henry James novels like Daisy Miller and Washington Square.

Nafisi suggests that in the seemingly quiet and decorous world of James’s novels, “There are different kinds of courage”. Nassrin points out that the character of Daisy Miller, in the novel that bears her name, tells another character “not to be afraid. She means not to be afraid of conventions and traditions – that is one kind of courage.” And Mahshid adds that the character of Catherine from Washington Square “is shy and retreating, not like Daisy, yet she stands up to all these characters, who are much more outgoing than her, and she faces up to them at a great cost. She has a different kind of courage from Daisy, but it is still courage” (p. 248). This section of the book emphasizes the quiet acts of courage through which Nafisi and her students resist the regime’s attempts to dominate not only their lives but also their very thinking.

And the “Austen” section – as it focuses on Jane Austen’s novels about women for whom securing a good marriage is a matter not just of finding love but also of securing some chance of social and economic survival in a world where women have virtually no other options for doing so – looks at questions of marriage in the lives of Nafisi’s students. Nafisi describes well what has made Austen’s protagonists heroes for women, and men, for more than 200 years now:

These women, genteel and beautiful, are the rebels who say no to the choices made by silly mothers, incompetent fathers (there are seldom any wise fathers in Austen’s novels), and the rigidly orthodox society. They risk ostracism and poverty to gain love and companionship, and to embrace that elusive goal at the heart of democracy: the right to choose. (p. 307)

The ”Austen” section of Reading Lolita in Tehran shows how the young women who constitute Nafisi’s “secret class” face a variety of marriage-related issues in their lives, in a manner not unlike what Elizabeth Bennet faces in Pride and Prejudice, or Elinor Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility. Some of the women are being pressured to marry men they don’t love, or not to marry men they do love, for reasons relating to family name, or tradition, or economic prospects. For some of the women, marrying the man of their choice may involve leaving Iran, when they might want to stay; for others, a marriage might mean staying in Iran, even if they want to leave. Even Nafisi, as she considers the possibility of leaving revolutionary Iran and relocating to the West, finds that her marriage is affected, as she and her husband quarrel in ways they never have before. The choices are difficult, and the future is uncertain.

Reading Lolita in Tehran is more than A Memoir in Books (the book’s subtitle). It provides an inside perspective on revolutionary and post-revolutionary Iran, and it shows a very brave group of women fighting to maintain their dignity, their personhood, and their intellectual freedom in the face of a regime that seeks to take all those things away from half the population of a country of 85 million people.

I am a lover of books. I am a lover of history. I am a lover of cultures. Consequently, I expected to love this book. Sadly, I found my dissappointment growing with each page I turned. The premise of the novel was certainly interesting- exploring times, the way that they were viewed, the oppression of women, religious fanaticism and political regimes that adopted Sharia, family, and the overall way that a country grew dissillusioned with iteself through novels was certainly an interesting one. Yet, the novel failed to fulfill its promise. I was very hopeful at the beginning, I quite enjoyed the section on Lolita, and I feel I would have even had I not read Nabokov previously. However, then, as we turned to Gatsby, that initial love died. Now, don't get me wrong, it had nothing to do with Gatsby itself. I adore The Great Gatsby and F.Scott Fitzgerald. But there was such an abrupt shift in time and place, and even in character- I lost all connection I had to the girls I had grown attached to, and I no longer felt any attachment to the author herself. Suddenly, she started to become very self-centered. Some of her complaints seemed too petty, after all there are problems within every nation, but more than that, it was not that she sought refuge in her books, but that she expected others to do the same that annoyed me. I enjoyed the actual analysis on Gatsby, but I the author grew more and more conceited as it went on. It just continued from there on. The novel continued to offer disconnected snapshots of life, that while powerful, never allowed me to truly emphasize because as quickly as they came they faded. Always there was a fleeing to books. And while I could see how the books connected, none seemed to resonate with the actual problems in the country as much as Lolita had. Gatsby and the failed dream I could understand- by Daisy Miller I was lost. Now, admittedly, I have never much enjoyed James, but I found that besides the point, asI also disliked other sections dealing with books I enjoyed. I was truly hoping for the book to redeem itself with an intelligent and relevant discussion of Pride and Prejudice. It failed utterly. I found the end dissatisfying, less connected than anything previously, and it had even lost what had made it charming to begin with- no longer was there an insightful discussion of novels, nor did I feel anything for the author or even the students much at this point. They were completely removed from me, I saw them through a lens, as studies not as actual people. Since this is a memoir, and these people are all real, this is a great failing. They are people who are supposed to come alive, and I felt as they were besotted with themselves, their own pretension, particularly Nafisi's, was unbearable. There were some positive aspects of the book- it gave me a great insight, if often tinged- I felt Nafisi was too biased, I understand why, but I thought that she regarded all of the revolutionaries as inferior beings, not intellectual in the least simply because they had different ideals- into the Iranian revolution and the culture there, and gave me new insights into some of my favorite novels. I am only saddened that the clear bias and narcissism of the author ruined this experience for me. It could have been a great intellectual and cultural study. As it was, it was merely decent, and while the subject material was engaging, I was wishing for it to end.

Indubbiamente interessante nell’insieme, ma parecchio confusionario e frammentario nel modo di procedere. Non è facile tenere il filo delle vicende biografiche dell’autrice, degli accadimenti storici, delle diverse esperienze e posizioni personali delle allieve, nonché i commenti più propriamente letterari sulle opere esaminate.

Another book I could not finish. Just too much. The idea of the story was very good and I like all the characters, especially the "girls" who came to glasses at the home. I was very interested in them and their lives but IMO there was too much of the author saying the same thing over and over again. She was trying to make a point but she kept making the same one. Sorry about this. I wanted to like this book but could not enjoy it.

This book is a must read for all those who love modern classic literature and who are interested on what happened in Iran during the reign of Ayatollah Khomeini and the Iran-Iraq war in the early 80s. I was in college that time and I have been hearing and reading bits of news about that war. This book completed that story particularly its impact on the ordinary people particularly on its main characters.

Azar Nafisi, a lady author, effectively related her favorite modern fiction works (Lolita of Nabokov, Gatsby of Fitzgerald, Daisy Miller of Henry James and Pride and Prejudice of Jane Austen) in this tumultuous era of Iran's rich history. Lolita was used as the back draft for the reading group's introduction of the women characters and how the Lolita's rape could be compared to the discrimination (symbolizes by the wearing of veil) that women in Iran suffered from its own laws. The trial of Gatsby built the climax of the story by providing the contrast between the belief of the Nafisi's male characters with their counterparts in THE GREAT GATSBY. The Iran-Iraq war happened at the height of the plot's climax interwined with the Henry James' novels particularly Daisy Miller. Here the female characters suffered the most but they chose to be brave, just like Daisy. Finally, the most interesting contrast was provided by Jane Austen's novels and the end of the war. Interesting because Austen's English novels were described by Nafisi as like a big dance which for me takes a genius to relate it to a war-torn Moslem country after about a decade of war.

I have read most of the novels mentioned except the third part: James. This is the reason why I almost enjoyed reading all the pages of the book as I knew what Nafisi was trying to say through the characters she borrowed from the literary greats (Nabokov, Fitzgerald, James and Austen). There are equally great other books and authors and this just proves that Nafisi knows her stuff. I have never encountered this writing style before so I am giving this book a five star rating.

In the shadows of all the bluster coming out of Iran these days, I try to remember those stories I've heard about Iranians who do not share the religious fervor of their political leaders and long for a more open society than the one that they currently have. Azar Nafisi's memoir about her life as a literature professor in Tehran the years following the revolution gave me a moving and painful glimpse into the lives of those who chafe under a kind of repression that I can only imagine.

Nafisi was an idealistic young professor when she first returned to Iran to teach in the wake of the revolution. She recounts with clear insight how her own revolutionary leanings and political naiveté gave way to a growing sense of dread as she realized that the political changes wrought by the revolution were much more of the frying-pan-into-the-fire variety than anything else.

Like all good memoirs, Nafisi's account of her own struggles against the growing restrictions placed on her both as a woman and an academic gave me a powerful sense of what it must have been like for those women who saw their freedom snatched away in the name of a rigid ideology. There were many moments in this book that left me with a haunting, visceral sense of events I hope I never experience: the worry that can erupt when a friend's failure to show up for an appointment immediately conjures up images of secret police, torture, and permanent disappearance, or the sheer disbelief at a failed state plot to murder nearly two dozen troublesome writers.

Nafisi learned to cope with the grim reality around her by escaping into the world she loved best, that of the literature she taught on and off at various universities during her stay. During her last years, she ran a private class for female students in which they discussed the works of Nabokov, Fitzgerald, James and Austin. The lessons she and her students learn from these books are intricately woven through the personal stories of the girls themselves. One might think the veiled women of the Islamic Republic would have little in common with the heroines such as Daisy Miller or Elizabeth Bennet, yet Nafisi's eloquent tale makes clear that the power of literature to help us better understand ourselves transcends borders, cultures, and the repression of ideological systems that cannot comprehend the complex, gray shades of human nature literature is so good at revealing.