Голос пойманной птицы

Аннотация:

We told the truth in a whisper - or were silent at all ... She was a rebel. The woman who was heard. Hastily marryed, a phostil runs from her husband to realize as a poet - and now her daring voice already sounds throughout the country. Some consider her work a property, others - shame. But no matter how fate develops, the phoural continues to fight the prejudices of the patriarchal society, protects its independence, the right to dream, write and passionately love. For whom this book: For readers of Khaled Hosseyni, Chimanda Ngozi Adichi, Mary Lynn Bracht, Equa Courniana, Kate Kuinn and Amitava Gosha. For those who are interested in the East, its traditions and art. For fans of stories about strong heroines and their fate. From the author: In 1978, my family left Iran with two burgundy leather suitcases. In Tehran, for some time it was restless, but that year the riots unexpectedly intensified. We did not know how much it would continue, and decided to go abroad for a while. There was almost no time left for the training camp. We fled to America, hoping to wait out atrocities and chaos that reigned in his homeland. The next year, a revolution happened in Iran. Those two burgundy suitcases we did not make out, and then we completely thrown away. My family did not return to Iran. I did not return to Iran. But something survived in the turmoil of our flight. Together with other things dear to her heart, the mother brought to America a thin collection of poems by Farrochzad. In childhood and youth, I have repeatedly seen this book. As I remember now: on the cover is a woman with a square, the eyes are summarized by a fuss. Who is she and why did I go to America with us? This image, magnificent, mysterious, modern, was rooted in my imagination, but I read the poems of the phoral only in college - and fell in love. At the University of California, I was incredibly lucky to study with Dr. Amina Banani, now the deceased, a researcher of Iranian literature, who in the 1950s personally knew the phostil. As soon as I read the "sin", as I was fascinated by the voice of the phoram, its naturalness and immediacy. Still struck by her courage. It was a poem about the passion that the woman was worried about. Did Iranian women really once wrote so? Farrochzad (or just a phostil, as it was called) grew in Tehran of the 1940-1950s-the first woman, without the support and patronage of men, managed to get rid of the label of the "poetess": she became an outstanding poet. She wrote a “sin” when she was not even twenty: this sincere and bold poem thundered to all Iran and earned her scandalous fame. Five collections of poetry strengthened her reputation as a rebel. The exile in her own country, the phrase-director instructed the lens to those whom society pushed to the backyards. Again and again, she fearlessly rushed into life, talked about passion and protest in those days when many believed that a woman should not be heard at all. She was too talented, too fearless and too purposeful to allow herself to plug the restrictions that they tried to apply on her. She risked, it cost her dearly - but also made her a poet. And half a century later, her unique poems cannot be read without surprise before the courage of them, the freedom of their language, the directness of their position, which does not require justification. Farrochzad, perhaps, more than any other author, allowed Iranian women insolence, rage, passion, delight. She tore off the cover of conventions and decency from female creativity, reflected, as if in a mirror, female pain and hope. She paved the way to Iranian literature with sincerity and courage, her life and creativity influenced many women, including my mother. When I, who had grown up in California, an American of Iranian origin, whose youth came in the nineties, read the poems of the phoram, I seemed to be transferred to another country with other ideas about what it means to be a woman, with other possibilities of who I can become. Her poems changed me. They aroused in me an interest in the life of Iranian women, and I first satisfied this interest as a literary critic, and then as a writer. For my first book, the family memoirs "The Good Daughter", I studied the history of Iran for several years before the 1979 revolution. And even having finished the book, I felt that the events of this period still haunt me, occupy my thoughts. Iran is a country of paradoxes, in the fifties and sixties these paradoxes only aggravated. In those years, the life of women underwent fundamental changes, but many old prohibitions and prejudices have not gone anywhere. This conflict fascinated me. In addition, since the time of the phostil, women have firmly entered Iranian literature, while due to the Tabu or open censorship rooted in the culture - there was a feeling that they still did not write about much, especially about the decades preceding the revolution. What did it mean in those years to be a woman in Iran? What are the rules? What are the opportunities and obstacles? I wanted to read - and write - a story that would answer these questions. And I turned my thoughts to the phoram. A year after year I continued to read about her everything that I managed to find, not yet realizing that in the end I would write a novel about her. At some point, I learned that during the riots stirring Iran in the early sixties, the phoram helped activists. I decided to find out everything that will work out. I turned to her poems, then to scientific sources. The opening followed the opening. What I discovered plunged me into amazement, and in the end I thought that I was obliged to tell her story.