Censoring an Iranian Love Story: A Novel: A Novel of Love's Triumph Over Tyranny [Hardcover]

When I picked up this book, written by a popular Iranian author, my only expectation was that it would be an unusual view of the writing life in Iran today. What I never expected was that the book would be so funny! Witty, cleverly constructed, and full of the absurdities that always underlie great satire, this unique metafiction draws in the reader, sits him down in the company of an immensely talented and very charming author, and completely enthralls.

Having reached the "threshold of fifty," Mandanipour says he intends to write a love story, and, most importantly, that "I want to publish my love story in my homeland." He then becomes the narrator of two stories---the fictional love story of Sara and Dara, which appears here in boldface, and a metafictional commentary by the author, in regular type. Experimenting with what to include in his love story and what direction to take, the narrator, named "Shariar Mandanipour," writes for the censor, ironically named Porfiry Petrovich, the police investigator in Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. "Because I am an experienced writer," he says, "I may be able to write my story in such a way that it survives the blade of censorship."

The author is true to his reader, however. Whenever he believes that Petrovich will question something, he either crosses it out himself (leaving it visible so that the reader can read, literally, between the lines), or he changes direction and rewrites the action of the story. He never rants or gets angry, preferring instead to show the excisions as silly. He understands that an Iranian audience has far different cultural expectations from a global audience.

In the love story, Dara has worshiped Sara from afar for a year, having seen her briefly at a student demonstration, and he leaves her coded messages hidden in library books. She never sees him, however. Gradually, the two young people begin to have "whispering computer chats," and eventually meet secretly in person, avoiding situations in which anyone from the Ministry of Islamic Culture and Guidance will see them. Though they fall deeply in love, Sara is also being courted by Sinbad, a very wealthy older man, and her family knows that if she marries him, they will all be much better off.

As the story progresses, the author comments about censorship in his own life, from the naming of his children, to his defense of scenes in his novels and stories. After one hilarious meeting with the censor, he tells his publisher that "Mr. Petrovich forgave us three breasts and two thighs." Though the Iranian Constitution allows free speech, it does not say that books and publications can "freely leave the print shop." Hence, many books get printed and then never released, unable to get a permit.

Throughout the novel, the author maintains an easy-going, conversational style and a wry, self-deprecating sense of humor. A dead midget hunchback becomes an ominous, repeating symbol, and when Dara is followed and is in danger of being assaulted by dark forces, the reader cares. Mandanipour has created a "novel" so rich with ideas, social history, and literary references--to writers such as Dostoevsky, Gogol, and Kafka--that anyone interested in the creative process will be fascinated by this love story set within the parameters of present-day Iran, which is, of course, the "real" story here. n Mary Whipple

With echoes of Milan Kundera, this is a love story set in contemporary Iran which is at times philosophic, funny and also tragic. Above all, it highlights how precious our own freedom of speech really is as the author explains the history of censorship and also faces hi own zealous censor. It is both a touching novel and also a fascinating insight into a culture which for these exact reasons is often hidden from view.

t is well known that Iran is a country in which fundamentalist Islam vies with a more liberal culture for the hearts and minds of its population. Censoring an Iranian Love Story is one of the most unusual books I have read recently and is very difficult to classify. A love story is contained within it, but solely as a vehicle for the author to write an extended set of stories and personal accounts about life in Iran, and particularly the censorship of artistic works. It is full of irony and humour and makes one want to weep for those Iranians who have to live under the current regime while not agreeing with its ethos.

Shariar Mandanipour describes how publishers have to invest in a print run before they actually know whether their books will be allowed to be distributed to book-shops. Inspectors check new books for Islamic conformity, and for the purpose of this book, Shariar Mandanipour creates one such, who he names Porfiry Petrovich, the detective in Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment charged with solving Raskolnikov's murders.

The author then goes on to write a love story, paragraph by paragraph, explaining what the censor will say about each sentence and how the author is going to have change his story to enable it to pass. Of course, in an Islamic nation like Iran, you can't even write about a boy and girl being alone in a room together. An author can't describe their emotions or their appearance other than in the most general terms. Gradually we realise that it is in fact impossible to write a love story at all, for the only acceptable relationships between a boy and a girl are those which have been set up by their parents are are fully chaperoned at every stage.

However, Mandanipour writes the story for we Western readers and crosses out the passages which Petrovich is going to delete. In between the short passages of the developing love story he tells other stories about Iran, about censorship, about art and love - the book becoming a dialogue with the reader in a thoroughly engaging way. Throughout this process of writing the story, the author debates with the imaginary Petrovich, and over the course of the novel he emerges as a powerful personality but with a wholly alien (to non-Muslims) approach to life.

Censoring an Iranian Love Story is a remarkable book. I came to it thinking that it was going to be a romance, but I found a challenging book which shows the predicament of the artist living in a culture which rejects his art as a great evil. We learn much about the historic culture of Iran and its ancient traditions of art and literature, and can only share Mandanipour's sorrow that only ancient texts and traditional music are freely allowed in the country. How many other writers excellent are yet to be published in translation from nations where censorship prevails? This is only the first book of Mandanipour to be published in English and I can only wait in hope that other's follow.