what is Iranian literature?
Some countries have literature of such a legendary greatness that one's breath is cut when one tries to speak about it; at the same time, the literature itself is often totally unknown, unseen. Iran is one of those examples. For many years, I knew grandiloquent names, such as Firdawsi and Rudaki, and a single experience of having an Iranian text in my hands, which was Hedayat's The Blind Owl in a Polish translation published in "Literatura na świecie" (possibly only a fragment of the work, that nonetheless enchanted me with its mysterious, surreal atmosphere).
But let me try to sketch the main lines. Classical Persian literature refers to the body of literary works produced in the Persian language from approximately the 9th century to the 19th century. Ancient Persian literature involves texts from pre-Islamic Persia, such as the Avesta, the sacred texts of Zoroastrianism. While poetry would overshadow prose in classical Persian literature, the most celebrated early work is Shahnameh (The Book of Kings) by Ferdowsi, an epic poem that recounts the history and mythology of Persia.
Classical Persian literature is often associated with Islamic Golden Age (8th to 14th centuries), a period in which Persian functioned as a literary language within the vaster Islamic world, also outside the country's frontiers. It encompasses a variety of genres, including poetry, prose, and philosophy, and is characterized by its artistic use of language, intricate forms, and exploration of themes such as love, mysticism, beauty, and the human condition. The most reputed Persian genres ghazal (for lyrical poetry) and masnavi (employed in narrative and philosophical poetry). Overall, what makes Persian poetry so highly reputed in the classical Comparative Literature is its philosphical depth, delving in the universal topics of life and death. This is why, translated into English, it is known to be read in the trenches of the First World War. More idiomatic, but equally universal is the poetry influenced by Sufi thought, blending mystical themes with literary expression. This is evident in the works of Rumi and Attar. More importantly, classical Persian literature has had a lasting influence on not only Persian-speaking cultures but also on literature across the world, particularly in South Asia and the Middle East. Its themes and forms continue to inspire contemporary literature and art. Historically, it is one of the main sources of global literary strands.
Safavid and Qajar eras (16th to 19th centuries) were the time of relatively lesser projection of Persian culture. They brought further development of poetry and prose, along with the incorporation of Western literary influences. Nonetheless, few or no names with universal projection to equal Omar Khayyam, Rudaki, Hafez or Rumi.
Contemporary Iran continues a closed country. Nonetheless, it's important to know it still creates innovative literature, both in the country and in the post-revolutionary diaspora. With the 19th and 20th centuries, Iranian writers began to explore themes of identity, social issues, and political struggle, often blending traditional forms with modern styles. Influential figures include the already mentioned Sadegh Hedayat, author of The Blind Owl, a groundbreaking modernist novel, and Forough Farrokhzad, a significant modern poet known for her lyrical and feminist themes.
But let me try to sketch the main lines. Classical Persian literature refers to the body of literary works produced in the Persian language from approximately the 9th century to the 19th century. Ancient Persian literature involves texts from pre-Islamic Persia, such as the Avesta, the sacred texts of Zoroastrianism. While poetry would overshadow prose in classical Persian literature, the most celebrated early work is Shahnameh (The Book of Kings) by Ferdowsi, an epic poem that recounts the history and mythology of Persia.
Classical Persian literature is often associated with Islamic Golden Age (8th to 14th centuries), a period in which Persian functioned as a literary language within the vaster Islamic world, also outside the country's frontiers. It encompasses a variety of genres, including poetry, prose, and philosophy, and is characterized by its artistic use of language, intricate forms, and exploration of themes such as love, mysticism, beauty, and the human condition. The most reputed Persian genres ghazal (for lyrical poetry) and masnavi (employed in narrative and philosophical poetry). Overall, what makes Persian poetry so highly reputed in the classical Comparative Literature is its philosphical depth, delving in the universal topics of life and death. This is why, translated into English, it is known to be read in the trenches of the First World War. More idiomatic, but equally universal is the poetry influenced by Sufi thought, blending mystical themes with literary expression. This is evident in the works of Rumi and Attar. More importantly, classical Persian literature has had a lasting influence on not only Persian-speaking cultures but also on literature across the world, particularly in South Asia and the Middle East. Its themes and forms continue to inspire contemporary literature and art. Historically, it is one of the main sources of global literary strands.
Safavid and Qajar eras (16th to 19th centuries) were the time of relatively lesser projection of Persian culture. They brought further development of poetry and prose, along with the incorporation of Western literary influences. Nonetheless, few or no names with universal projection to equal Omar Khayyam, Rudaki, Hafez or Rumi.
Contemporary Iran continues a closed country. Nonetheless, it's important to know it still creates innovative literature, both in the country and in the post-revolutionary diaspora. With the 19th and 20th centuries, Iranian writers began to explore themes of identity, social issues, and political struggle, often blending traditional forms with modern styles. Influential figures include the already mentioned Sadegh Hedayat, author of The Blind Owl, a groundbreaking modernist novel, and Forough Farrokhzad, a significant modern poet known for her lyrical and feminist themes.
I have readBahiyyih Nakhjavani, The Saddlebag. A Tale for Doubters and Seekers (2000)
Sadegh Hedayat, Boof-e koor | The Blind Owl (1936) Pietro Citati, La primavera di Cosroe. Venti secoli di civiltà iranica (1977) |
Vertical Divider
|
I have written |
Persian art, and in particular the ornamentation of Safavide mosques, sets out to combine these two qualities: the crystalline state is expressed in the purity of the architectural lines, the perfect geometry of the arched surfaces and the decoration in rectilinear forms; as for the celestial springtime, it blossoms in the stylised flowers and fresh, rich, and subdued colours of ceramic tiles.
Titus Burckhardt, Art of Islam: Language and Meaning (36)
at evening prayer in exile |
Vertical Divider
|
There has been a lecture at Leiden University, given by a man in Persian poetry by the name of Ahmad Karimi-Hakkak, on exilic impulse in Persian poetry, that he presented as a sort of constant historical tendency, since its beginning in an Abu Hafs Sughdi's one-liner, some eleven centuries ago (9th/10th century CE).
Gems of wisdom coming to me through one of those languages that formed translocal literary spheres long before colonial empires make me muse on my own exile. Like this one: If the tree had legs, it wouldn't be fallen. I also muse on local allegiances of those eternal Persian exilic poets; basically, they belonged to a mother town, quite away from an abstract ideas such as "Iran". It was from their city they were exiled. And the speaker also mentioned Hafiz, that had probably never left Shiraz, and nonetheless developed an exilic imagination quite of his own, in which the whole world becomes a place of exile. And I jotted down this little verse in an English translation, telling me that what happened to me between Kraków and Leiden is just a part of a universal destiny: At evening prayer in exile, as I begin to cry I sing so many stories of exiles, so touchingly. And I felt so intensely the beauty of a sunset expressed in the melody of the verse alone. Do you speak Farsi?, someone asked. Of course I don't. But how touching and soul-boggling it is to be in Leiden, an evening of exile, sitting in the last row at the university, among those long-date emigrants who had fled Iran in 1979, at the moment of a revolution about which I remember vaguely to have heard as a child, hearing them recite verses in a tongue that echoes through such an expanse of earth and time. And then there was another Persian poetry man by the name of Ashgar Seyed-Ghorab, who spoke about cracking the fragile cup of the moon, and about a Satanic verse of Nader Naderpour (1929-2000), and about a hair of Khomeini that people believed to find in every single copy of the Qur'an in every single household in Iran. About the mixture of diabolic and divine that keeps us on the move across the world. And it makes me remember all the Persian books I put my hands on many years ago, like that Blind Owl of Sadegh Hedayat that shuttered me so young, so durably. Which is Boof-e koor, بوف کور, as I learn now, stepping on a new level of my Leidse erudition. Leiden, 15th November 2019 |