Close Search
Who Is Going To Believe This, Rostam



نویسنده

مترجم

ناشر

موضوع

,

فرمت

زبان

9781780835051

شابک

September 1, 2015

تاریخ انتشار

300

تعداد صفحات

نوبت چاپ

$25.00 کتاب چاپی

این کتاب واجد شرایط «کمک به موسسه خیریه» در فروشگاه آمازون امریکا است.
فروشگاه‌های آمازون : امریکا :: کانادا :: بریتانیا :: فرانسه :: آلمان :: ایتالیا :: اسپانیا :: هند :: ژاپن ::
فروشگاه‌: بوک دیپازیتوری (ارسال رایگان به تمامی کشورهای دنیا) :: و سایر فروشگاه‌های معتبر کتاب ::
در صورت عدم دسترسی به فروشگاه‌های فوق می‌توانید از طریق پی‌پل برای خرید نسخه چاپی اقدام کنید
متوسط زمان ارسال سفارش با توجه به آدرس شما بین ۳ تا ۴ هفته خواهد بود

$12.00 کتاب الکترونیک

کیندل : امریکا | کانادا | بریتانیا | فرانسه | آلمان | هلند | ایتالیا | اسپانیا | هند | ژاپن | برزیل | مکزیک | استرالیا ::
گوگل پلی :: کتاب گوگل :: این کتاب قابل اشتراک با اعضای خانواده است.
در صورت عدم دسترسی به فروشگاه گوگل‌پلی می‌توانید از طریق پی‌پل برای خرید نسخه الکترونیک اقدام کنید نووک ::

The novel is set in European countries as well as Twentieth Century Iran. This was a period during which the country was going through social transformations in a rapid way. The generation gap is evident, although that is not what the novel is primarily about. Among other things, the novel is a skilful portrayal of human relations and sentiments in a rapidly changing society.


Graeme wright
WHO IS GOING TO BELIEVE THIS, ROSTAM?
A middle-aged couple embark on a train journey in an unspecified European country. The husband has bought his newspapers: ‘like walls that separate us.’ His wife, the narrator, has brought memories which, in seamless leaps of time, travel through her life in Iran and Europe.
So begins Rouhangiz Sharifian’s tantalising novel, Who Is Going To Believe This, Rostam?, winner in 2004 of the Hooshang Golshiri Literary Award for best first novel. Golshiri, who died in 2000, was one of Iran’s foremost secular writers, a founder of the sometimes proscribed Iranian Writers’ Association and, despite threats to his person, an outspoken advocate for intellectual freedom and opponent of state censorship. Appropriate, then, that the award honouring his name is one of the few in Iran not sponsored by a government organisation.
For Shura, the narrator, her past is not a foreign country but her homeland. The land where she went from childhood to the young university student who married Jahan and was carried off to Europe. Jahan, Persian for ‘the world’, thus becomes her world and at the same time removes her from her secure world of grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles and the evocatively drawn nannies, Big and Gadabout.
Takes her, too, from Rostam, the village boy dropped Heathcliff-like among this extended city household. Theirs is a treasured friendship of innocent love pigeon-holed by traditional customs inside boundaries they can never cross. But the course of time will not terminate it. Shura’s conversations with Rostam continue to interlace her journey.
It is a relationship so different from that between Shura and her westernised daughter, Setareh. ‘There were fewer telephone calls and we seldom met. It was only I who asked how she was, often through her answer-phone.’ Requested to keep free Nowruz, the Iranian New Year, Setareh replies, ‘I have no time to be back home.’
While Sharifian gives her readers a vibrant account of everyday Iranian life accorded little notice in the coverage devoted to Iran’s religious regimes, its nuclear negotiations and its role in Middle East crisis politics, hers is also an insight into the human condition. The strengths and frailties of family and friendship are international.
Translator Lotfali Khonji points out in his Foreword, ‘when it comes to life at “street level”… it is here that the works of writers such as Balzac and Flaubert show their worth.’ Rouhangiz Sharifian does not suffer from this association, but it is a more modern writer her novel brings to mind.
In her essay Modern Fiction, Virginia Woolf wrote that ‘Life is not a series of gig-lamps symmetrically arranged: life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.’ It is a subtle, if complicated, succession of experiences. With a fluid treatment of time and place in which past, present and future join in free association with themes of love and loss, uninhibited by sequential conventions, Rouhangiz Sharifian has gone a long way in her poetic odyssey to follow Woolf’s ambition. She shows us that, in the momentary experiences of memory, our existence acquires something permanent and essential. She has given Iran a universal face, a human face.