Why Read Fiction: Reading Lolita in Tehran

"The best novels always force the reader to look with suspicion at what they take for granted. They cast doubt on traditions and future prospects that seem impossible to change." (p. 155)

This is a sentence I particularly love in "Reading Lolita in Tehran." This book is a memoir by Azar Nafisi, a scholar of English literature. She taught English literature at several universities in Iran. The novels she chose, such as "The Great Gatsby" and "Daisy Miller," sparked debate in the classroom. Some were angry, seeing them as books that affirmed decadent Western values, while others were encouraged by characters who resisted those values. Regarding "The Great Gatsby," there was even a trial held in the classroom where the book was the defendant (with Nafisi acting as the "book"). The author writes that these excellent novels made the students uneasy.
Reading this, I remembered what a professor of cultural studies told me when I first entered university: "In this class, I will drop you into a hole." He meant that I would realize how fragile the things I believed in were. Since then, I have been drawn to novels that create cracks in the daily life I vaguely believed to be safe and secure. In English literature, these include Doris Lessing's "To Room Nineteen" and John Wyndham's "The Day of the Triffids." In Japanese literature, works by Li Kotomi and Seiko Matsuda. After reading any of them, the scenery never looked the same again. Nafisi writes repeatedly about the sin of "lack of imagination" ("As is the case with almost all evil depicted in great novels, the evil in Austen also lies in the lack of the ability to 'see' others, and therefore the lack of the ability to understand the hearts of others." (p. 516)). The author deciphers how "great novels" reveal this "evil" through their characters. The novels I love also shake up daily life and depict the act of "seeing" others.

Furthermore, "Reading Lolita in Tehran" shows that reading books brings the reader's own life and thoughts to the surface. As the title suggests, it is "Lolita," "The Great Gatsby," and "Pride and Prejudice" read by an author who taught and researched English literature in Tehran. Parallel to the author's interpretations, the war in Iran and the violence that permeates daily life are depicted. Of the four parts, the final one, "Austen," left the deepest impression on me. The book begins with a secret class (reading group) that Nafisi held at her home with several students, and closes with the end of that secret class. "Austen," which writes of that "end," focuses on Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice" and the students in the class. Those who remain in Iran, those who want to leave, those who struggle, those who fall in love. Before the memoir begins, there is a note from the author stating that names and details have been changed "to protect them from those who would try to fill their own emptiness with the secrets of others." While protecting them in this way, she still records each of their lives. At first, as I am unfamiliar with Iran, I couldn't remember each of their names well, and I kept returning to the first pages or reading on while feeling uncertain. But by the final chapter, I found myself thinking of people I would likely never meet in reality, and I felt as if each one of them was approaching me with substance. And I could not help but reflect on my own life as well. A person the author calls "my magician" appears frequently in the recollections, and like a magician, Nafisi sincerely brings to life the people she met at that time and in that place.
I think this is where the power of fiction that Nafisi demonstrated lies. It is in not ending things with "That country is in trouble" or "How pitiful," but in leaving something certain with the reader. One cannot apply everything to one's own situation. However, for example, parts like "The reason our culture keeps sexuality at a distance is because it is overly obsessed with it" and "These girls, my girls, are well-versed in Jane Austen and can intellectually discuss Joyce and Woolf, yet they know almost nothing about their own bodies" (p. 497) made me unable to stop thinking about the situation in Japan as well.

This is my second time reading "Reading Lolita in Tehran." The first time was when I decided to study English literature. Since then, there have been times when I wondered what the point of reading literature was. But I am glad I have kept reading. It is a special book that made me feel that way once again.

"Reading Lolita in Tehran"
Azar Nafisi, translated by Eri Ichikawa
Kawade Bunko