The title of this anthology of Iranian women’s poetry, collected and translated into English by Iranian-born American-based poet and woman of letters Sheema Kalbasi, refers to the narrative of the medieval Persian allegory Mantegh ot-Tayr (Conference of the Birds) written by Farid od-Din Attar. Attar, one of the seminal figures of early Persian literature, was also one of the most committed advocates of the doctrines of the incipient Islamic mystical movement, Sufism. Attar’s literary concepts, such as the motif of ‘the Seven Valleys of Love’, had a profound effect on not only future Persian-speaking poets (most notably Rumi and Hafez); but also introduced, or at least for the first time articulated unambiguously, a number of tenets of one of the medieval world’s most significant and enduring theosophical schools. Among these notions was Eshgh (literally ‘Love’), which, in a Greco-Western episteme, seems closer to agape than either philia or eros. This ideal was most vividly illustrated in Attar’s aforementioned narrative verse, in which a group of thirty birds embarks on a journey to meet the majestic Si-morgh – a mythological giant bird symbolizing wisdom. Instead of finding the Si-morgh as such, however, the birds experience something ostensibly more poignant: they undergo the Sufi concept of Fana (Annihilation). At the end of the tale, as a consequence of enduring the arduous journey and traversing the Seven Valleys of Love, the birds have somewhat unwittingly effaced their selves (or egos); and have, as a result, unified to constitute an assembly of thirty birds, that is – in Persian – si (thirty) morgh (bird/s). The ordinary birds have, in other words, become the legendary Si-morgh in and of themselves. It is of great interest and pertinence that Ms. Kalbasi has named her anthology after the above mystical idiom. Many of the poets presented in this volume have experienced journeys similar to those of the parabolic birds; and it can be said that these authors, by the virtue of being women in an intransigently and institutionally patriarchal society such as Iran, have too had their egos threatened (although by no means ‘annihilated’), and that they too have succeeded in not only surviving the travails and brutalities of sexism but have also found a Sufi-esque kind of love, solidarity and inspiration that has resulted in passionate and provocative poetry. The lyrics of the above martyred feminist sit alongside those of other articulate and committed Iranian women poets in Ms Kalbasi’s unique anthology. One of the other great strengths of Ms Kalbasi’s work is her decision to present lesser-known poets in place of such well-known figures as Forugh Farrokhzad, Simin Behbahani and Parvin Etesami. This editorial decision is visionary and courageous. By bringing new and/or marginalized poets to an international readership, Ms Kalbasi has broken one of the most stifling taboos of poetry anthologies – that of presenting only the famous/classic ‘public’ poets – and has, as a result, opened a new front in giving voice to female artists usually denied exposure by unapologetically sexist and/or elitist culture industries in Iran as well as the Anglophone world. Another important and immensely valuable dimension of this anthology can be found not only in the shared identity of the authors presented – their being Iranian and/or Persian-speaking women – but in the poems themselves, and in the range and diversity of periods, voices, discourses and poetic genres included in the book. The Seven Valleys of Love comprises poems from medieval Arabic/Turkish ruled Persia; as well as poems from the independent unitary Iranian kingdoms of the Safavid and Ghajar monarchs; as well as works by modernists and post-modernists of the Pahlavi Dynasty and the Islamic Republic. Included are also poems written in Persian by members of the considerable Iranian diaspora communities. Therefore Ms Kalbasi’s selection cuts across not only chronological divides but also aesthetical and ideological chasms. Some of the poems here are versified, others are free-formed/prosaic; some are romantic/erotic in a broad sense, others speak to the specific socio-political contexts in which they were articulated. My final evaluation of this exciting new anthology concerns what, at least for today’s mainstream Western readers, may constitute the book’s most noticeable characteristic: its representation of work by poets from Iran, that terminally demonized/dehumanized ‘axis of Evil’ nation that has seemingly been at war with the West since the Battle of Marathon between ancient Greeks and Persians in 490 BCE. It is my belief that by exposing the journey of Iran’s women poets through ‘the Seven Valleys of Love’, Ms Kalbasi has depicted and emphasized the humanity and dignity of one of world’s most misunderstood peoples, and has made a significant contribution to facilitating a cross-cultural dialogue in place of a nefarious ‘Clash of Civilizations.’ — Dr. Ali Alizadeh For several years now, Iranian friends have invited me to attend Nowruz (Norouz, in the other, French-based transliteration), the Persian New Year’s spring equinox festival, here in Southern California. And every year, the sight of this vibrant, ever-growing immigrant community makes me think again of how one could better present their magnificent, but mostly misunderstood culture to the public at large. Indeed the din of antagonism in the “West” has raged practically unabated from the Persian wars with Greece (culminating in the battle of Marathon of 490 BCE), to recent hostile talk about the “axis of evil.” Centuries, if not millennia of sloganeering by agenda-driven politicians on both sides have all but drowned out the words of normal enlightened people and led Westerners to forget the many life-enhancing features we have borrowed from Persian culture and society, whether directly or indirectly, via Muslim Spain. But above all, this cant has tragically prevented the voices of the poets from reaching us. In the other direction, Western influences did flow East, but due only to an equally inauspicious presumption of Western colonialist superiority. Persians and today’s Iranians have always been a people with a strong poetic tradition. In English, several classic poets are available, beginning with the influential Omar Khayyam translation by Edward FitzGerald in 1859. There are some anthologies of contemporary poets available, notably the one edited by Iranian poet Mahmud Kianush (Rockingham Press, UK), which includes a few 20th century women. But in general, poetry by Persian and Iranian women of the past and the present is almost unknown in the West, except perhaps for that of Forugh Farrokhzad (1935-1967), who died so young, and Simin Behbahani (1927-), nominated for the Nobel Prize of literature in 1997. Farrokhzad’s words “Out of the deep of dimness/ Out of the deep of darkness/ And out of the deep of night I speak[,]” placed by the editor as the epigraph of the second part titled “Contemporary,” seem to me to be emblematic of the entire female poetic output of this anthology. Yet instead of being true only of the darkness from which ushers the poet’s voice, they are axiomatic also of the darkness of ignorance that surrounds us. But there is light: Sheema Kalbasi, the Iranian-born and U.S.-based poet and scholar, has edited this book and translated all of the poets. “Seven Valleys of Love,” the title Kalbasi has chosen for this beautiful volume, is highly appropriate for her undertaking. It comes from a signal Medieval Persian allegory inspired by Sufism, “The Conference of the Birds” by Farid od-Din Attar, whose themes are love and a search for divine unity, and which in Persian literature represents the equivalent of Dante or Milton in Europe. Chaucer was the first to render it freely into English. Kalbasi has judiciously opted for the broadest chronological setting, bringing us an anthology of native Iranian and/or Persian-writing by women from Medieval Persia to present-day Iran. Brief vitas of each poet in alphabetical order are appended. As a poet in her own right, Sheema Kalbasi has rendered the texts in a language that is convincing in and of itself. No prose translations here, as in the famous Penguin country-by-country series of poetry of old, but something that is much more challenging: translations that are not only lively, compelling and expressive, but faithful renditions, with meter and rhyme corresponding to the original. In a language that is alternately succinct and pungent, lyrical and lilting, but always daring and persuasive, the voices of these women poets, thanks to this expert translator, dispel the intervening centuries like a fog. Poets exhort other women or celebrate the brown curls of their paramours. The classic poet Padeshah Khatoon exhorts her lover: I am the woman who dwells in grace, But Khatoon is hardly the only one speaking out. Zaifie, of the 15th century, admonishes her man in a poem that reads, deftly and almost comically, in its entirety: O you who are a man of despair, In a poem where every stanza ends in “I am,” Tahereh Ghoratolein seems to invoke the cosmic imagery: You who are the sun and the light. Ghoratolein, Parvin Shamsolhajieh and many other women write in the ghazal, a diversely formed genre of love poetry in Arabic, Persian and Urdu, with textual repetitions that seem to stem from far earlier traditions of oral poetry. Decrying the vagaries of fashion, Fakhr Ozma Arghoon begins apodictically: “Neither the beauty nor the face/ makes a woman,” and at the end enjoins us sisters:
Typical of the modern era is the self-assessment of Leila Kasra in “Know Me,” interspersed as it is with convincing snippets of casual reality: In me there is a woman About her lover’s absence, Mina Dastgheib sounds as vivid and contemporary as any Western woman, from Alfonsina Storni (Argentina) or Sibilla Aleramo (Italy) of the first half of the twentieth century, to Sarah Kirsch (Germany) and Louise Glück (United States) of the second half: You are absent This is a wonderful book to leaf around in. It invites us on a magical journey of reading and rereading these distant yet ultimately familiar women poets, of perceiving through their glass, whether darkly or brightly, the life of a society we yearn to get to know better. Some poets, like the marvelous Rosa Jamali who perceives parts of the body, such as a hand, as a landscape, seem like women I would like to meet and talk with over a cup of tea. Having wisely decided to publish her anthology in a bilingual format, Sheema Kalbasi not only enlightens Westerners who wish to understand Persian culture, Persian poetry, and Persian women, but she allows Iranians at any Nowruz celebrated in the diaspora to hold fast to their inspiring heritage, language, and poetry. Maybe the way to end hostilities once and for all and enjoy each other’s culture will ultimately be via the vast communities of Iranians living in the diaspora. — Ute Margaret Saine Seven Valleys of Love, compiled and translated by Sheema Kalbasi, is written with a piercing clarity and a profound intensity of emotion. Kalbasi’s ability to preserve the integrity and poetical sensibility of the work is evident in her mastery of language, editing, and translation. Seven Valleys of Love is a vibrant celebration of extraordinary women’s voices. The colourful and lively verses in this dazzling collection emerge as small, quiet explosions out of the shadows of hopelessness and seek to inspire and restore peace, hope, and harmony in its people. Many of the voices not only summon the reader or listener to take notice but also function as introspective inner dialogues for those who have been wrongly silenced or left to subsist on the outskirts of a male-dominated society. By acknowledging such disconsolate conditions, the hushed discourses offer words of fortitude and consolation to potentially assuage the conflict and turmoil festering within. The poets in Seven Valleys of Love aspire to Mother Nature with the expectation she will act as a remedial force and help absolve the injuries humanity has inflicted on its people. Elements of the natural world are recurrent themes as characters are often likened to fragile birds in search of freedom and escape, “This musky willow shade and I / These birds and I, do not sing!” A similar sentiment is found in a poem called “The Lost Youth” where the last lines clearly express a pandering to estrangement and solitude, “Some thing is beyond this spring. / Those wandering birds will not find a nest.” Such characters become helpless creatures muted by societal pressure, timeless tradition, and violence or the dread of malicious conduct. And yet, in other instances, the female entity is also portrayed as a ravaging creature, embodying the dynamic of a beast that is both powerful and full of terror, “In me there is a woman pure / Who can lull Satan to sleep”. The imagery of flowing water, streams, and springtime rains persists in the work, creating the assurance of that which cleanses and rehabilitates. The notion of active water as a purifying, rejuvenating source moving towards a buoyant state is suggestive of the possibility for optimism and renewal. Whether the pieces speak of the redeeming river or the stones, which soak up a great measure of the land’s burden, there is continually the notion of the idyllic garden as a central, underlying theme. In a poem called “Adam!” the poet assumes the persona of Eve and beseeches Adam to assist her in reclaiming a lost identity. Other poems share the same thought with lines like “Of the orange garden / Not much was left, days gone by… / The bitter taste of water / And I trust myself to the stream.” In the face of isolation and tribulation, evidence of unending faith and undying sanguinity apparently thrives. A number of poems make reference to dreams or trance-like spells of reverie. Whether in an imagined state of wellness or at the threshold of reality there is always the presence of an intense hankering for the stuff that is reminiscent of the sublime, physical world. The humility of the poets, despite their mistreatment and sense of misplacement, lends this book to a purity of spirit and grace amid the most darkened moments of strife and suffering. Seven Valleys of Love calls us to appreciate that though adversity and pity pertain to every human heart, the presence of loveliness and forgiveness also exists in the invincible human spirit. A superb book that demands to be held or cupped gently in the hand so not to spill the sumptuous beauty, light wit, and sharp-eyed acuity it is teeming with. Sheema Kalbasi elegantly captures the relationship between the troubled voices lamenting to the inner self and the enlightened voices delivering touching bursts of insight and joy. This stunning anthology of love and loss bears witness to a passionate and sorrowful longing, a deep plaintiveness for the ageless plight of expression. A pining that lurks like the wind, at times turbulent and smothering and in other moments soothingly obliging, as unexpected and stealthy as the warm breath or whisper of a lover or assailant on the neck, “panting at the night”, capable of really anything. — Desi Di Nardo Born in Tehran, Iran, and now living in the Washington, D.C. area, Sheema Kalbasi is a poet, human rights activist and the editor/translator of Seven Valleys of Love, which features over one thousand years of Persian women's poetry. What makes this collection remarkable is that these voices are gathered in one book, making them all finally accessible to an English-speaking audience. In the introduction by Dr. Ali Alizadeh, we learn that the titular "Seven Valleys of Love" refers to a medieval Persian fable, called Mantegh ot-Tayr, or Conference of the Birds, written by Farid od-Din Attar. In the story, thirty birds journey to find the Si-morgh, a mythical bird symbolizing wisdom. They never find the Si-morgh after crossing the Seven Valleys of Love; instead, their individual identities are erased and reformed into the Si-morgh. Like the birds finding greater strength through unity, the women represented in Seven Valleys combine their individual talents into a formidable assembly. You who are the Mecca In this case, Ghoratolein writes about how she is not worthy of the love of her beloved and that she is like Eve who wickedly tempts her lover. She is human, unlike her lover, who is god-like. Ghoratolein and other poets in this collection reference Adam, Eve and the Garden of Eden to represent lost innocence and the failings of mankind (Adam and Eve are not only found in Genesis, but also in the Quran, the Talmud, and in various gnostic texts). I am the woman, who dwells in grace, In "Adam!" by contemporary poet Farzaneh Seyed Saeedi, the subject of Adam and Eve drive the poem's theme of longing: |
| © 2003 Frontlist.org |
|---|