And in other Non-Fiction...

So really, I'm not a non-fiction girl.  I'm just not.  Some days I wish I could be, but I just love me my fiction.  I love stories that take me far away and it always seems a bit harsh to spend my escape time having to read about someone else's reality.  But, recently, I have been coming around on the whole non-fiction thing and have finding some great reads.  I even voluntarily wander the biography aisles at the book store now.  Chalk it up to growth! 

You'll also notice a theme--most of them are about situations in the Middle East.  Not an intentional theme at all.  I have always found the situations of Iraq, Iran, Israel, Palestine, Gaza and the West Bank a little (okay, a lot) daunting because the history is long, the situations complicated and the way forward is unclear.  The varying realities of these places are hard to understand and even harder to unpack.  For many years, I just ignored them (even though I worked in International Relations).  These books have offered great insights into situations that I felt it was easier to ignore.  Unintentionally, I have now begun to get a much better grasp on the Middle East.  All I've learned, however, is that things are deeply complicated.  The authors of the books below each offer his/her own insights and experiences, but there are many stories to hear and many options to weigh.  If you figure any of it out, please let me know! 

I also noticed another theme...all the books are written from the perspective of the powerless: women in Iran and Palenstinians in Israel.  It is worth recognizing that there are many people who would not consider these the voices to listen to.  For me, they are a integral part of the story who deserve to be heard. 
Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi
I think this might be the first non-fiction book I stuck with all the way through.  Maybe because it was about a girl who loved reading or maybe because Nafisi has a compelling way of telling her story.  Using four classic Western novels, she weaves a tale of life for women in the Islamic regime in Iran.  Forced out of her work and her life, Nafisi encourages other young women to keep reading and to keep hoping for change. 

Some have suggested this book is a bit too academic.  That wasn't my experience and I really didn't know anything about Iran.  I did, however, know about some of the books she refers to (Pride and Prejudice, Lolita, Daisy Miller, The Great Gatsby).  I would suggest reading the classics before reading this book, if you have time and the patience for Henry James and Vladimir Nabokov. 

Sometimes I feel like reading fiction might be a waste of time.  After all, there are so many great, true stories out there that seem to hold more water than ficticious tales.  But Nafisi's book is a reminder that fiction can tell great truths about humanity that are otherwise hard to hear.  If we let the books read us, we might get more than we bargained for.

If you like Nafisi, her second book, Things I've Been Silent About is a much more personal look into her life.  She has issues with her mother (lots and lots).  She also has a lot to say about how we grow and begin to understand those around us.  This book might be a better introduction to her person, but as someone who loves reading, I'll stick with Reading Lolita.

Blood Brothers by Elias Chacour
I should admit that this book came to me through work.  However, it is one of those books that I took into my heart.  I have never come across a more poignant tale of the Israel-Palestine conflict than this story.  Chacour's heart and hope shine through every page.  As someone who knew even less about Israel than I did about Iran, this book provided a clear and concise history of the relationships between the two nation-states (and the broader world).  Although Chacour is Palestinian, his love for his Jewish and Israeli brothers and sisters is so strong that it hardly feels biased (although, inherently, it is).  If you are at all interested in this part of the world, read this book.  Chacour will make you want to grow a fig tree and change the world all in a few short pages. 

I Shall Not Hate by Dr. Izzeldin Abuelaish
When his daughters are killed by an Israeli bomb, Dr. Abuelaish (a Palestinian) decides not to hate, but to tell his story. To ask for change--specifically for the empowerment of women.  This tale of Palestinian-Israeli relations is a bit harder to engage with than Blood Brothers.  Still a great read, this book gives you a more day-to-day sense of the depth of the strain and struggle between these two nations.  Dr. Abuelaish's heartbreaking story is captivating because he endures when most would give up and he hopes when most would despair. 

Likely I'll stick to reading mostly fiction.  But these books are almost enough to change my mind!

Prisoner of Tehran

Canada Reads Book #1: Prisoner of Tehran by Marina Nemat

Sometimes, when you read a book, you reflect on your own life and realize how trivial it all might be.  The little obstacles I overcome on a daily basis, the small victories or sadnesses that daily life brings, they seem huge to me because they are my experiences, but after reading this book, all I can think about is perspective: getting some and keeping some.  When I was through with this book I realized that the spectrum of my own emotions was limited.  Nemat's greatest sufferings are so much worse than mine have ever been but, I would guess, her greatest joys are so much greater because of the perspective her pain has given her.  Not that I'm looking for pain -- just that I have to remember, all the time, the bigger picture of life, suffering and joy. 

The foundation of the books is Marina's experience in Iran's notorious political prison, Evin.  Moving between her prison experience and the story that brought her there, Nemat paints a picture of a life loved, disrupted and regained.  Her's is a tale of orientation, disorientation and reorientation--stages we all find ourselves in as we cycle through life.  But Marina's story is so  profound because she manages to maintain and promote the dignity of all people despite having every reason not too.  In a world trying to delineate between good and evil, she inhabits murky space between the two and seeks to find goodness.  It is all any of us can do -- seek to find goodness in a world that doesn't make sense.

Her suffering, her stubbornness, and her sacrifice are all beautifully written and captured, yet clearly only being shared so that others will not have to suffer the same fate.  It is a painful story to share but her humility comes through.  I appreciate this sincerity as other memoirs I've read have seemed self-congratulatory.

But, truly, I only gained perspective on the very last page of the book.  I was eagerly devouring every morsel of this woman that I could--I was even reading the "Acknowledgements" to see who she thanked (this section is my little guilty pleasure because I love seeing how people use it).   And, if I read it correctly, Nemat works at a Swiss Chalet. Swiss Chalet. The woman who has undergone profound suffering, forced marriage and international immigration is the same woman who might have served me dipping sauce.  Not a professor, not a journalist, not a politician, doctor or professional (how could she be?  She was imprisoned from 16 - 18.)  Reading her story, I realize that I am barely worthy of listening to her give a lecture on how to love and be human despite the most inhuman circumstances.  And, yet, when I sit at any given Swiss Chalet, I am rarely considering the server's experience and, certainly, no one expects me to.  That's what I mean about perspective -- getting some and keeping it.  Because there is no reason for me not to wonder about the life experiences of any person I meet, but society creates space between us that is often hard to cross.   To be honest, I am not entirely sure it matters if I read the Swiss Chalet line correctly or not -- it was a lesson I needed to learn. 

This book made me realize many things -- the most important of which is my own ability to silence the experience of others by allowing this culture to create voids of listening between groups of people.  Who else's story needs to be told?  Nemat's story is a gift and I am sure there are many others out there.  

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and would happily recommend it.  I have read other perspectives on the experience of women during the reign of Ayatollah Khomeini but I found this one to have a freshness and an intimacy that made it a worthy read.  

I'll save my Canada Reads vote until all the books are read, but we are off to a good start!