Rooftops of Tehran

This novel of "forbidden love" seemed like it would be a perfect follow-up to my forced reading of Wuthering Heights, and it was, though the forbidden love wasn't quite as advertised. I got started on my Persian kick with Persepolis (books and movie) by Satrapi, and then friend Whitney suggested Dalia Sofer's Septembers of Shiraz, which I really enjoyed. Mahbod Seraji's Rooftops of Tehran is set just before the Iranian revolution, in 1973 and most of the action takes place in a fairly well-to-do neighborhood. 17-year old Pasha spends many of his days and evenings on his rooftop with his friend Ahmed, mooning over the girl next door. Beautiful Zari is betrothed to Pasha' mentor, a man known affectionately as Doctor, so Pasha is naturally conflicted by his emotions. Plus there's the whole repressive society issue.

Actually, what was so interesting about Rooftops of Tehran was the insight it gave into Iranian life. When my fourth grade son saw the cover, he was surprised to see so many buildings. He said it didn't "look like Iran". Never mind the lack of worldly knowledge I've clearly imparted to him, because he has a point. I think that here in the west, we tend to lump Iran in with other Islamist societies and we can easily forget how European Iran was, especially when the Shah was in power (no, I'm not pining for those days--I realize he was a dictator). There is a funny moment, in fact, when one of Pasha's teacher talks of how much he admires Americans for their discipline (remember, this is 1973) and I was a bit smirky about that until the teacher went on to illustrate his point by citing the fact that "everyone stops at stop signs, even when there is no car coming from the opposite direction. That's discipline for you. Discipline means respecting the rules regardless of the circumstances. We don't even stop at red lights in this country." He also mentions the well-placed trash cans on American streets. I guess if that's what he means by discipline, he has a point. I never thought about how orderly things are in this country (especially in light of the tea parties and the shouting at the president that seems prevalent today). I think of Switzerland as orderly and of Italy as chaotic. I always sort of think of us Americans as essentially lazy, but it is true that we do tend to follow rules. Pasha himself agrees silently with his teachers, at least in so far as admitting that Iranians are cheaters. Everyone in school cheats, or feels justified cheating because they themselves have been cheated. He sees it done perhaps more in the spirit of sharing, but he understands his teacher's point.

Still, Pasha, and particularly Ahmed, are chafing under the old rules of their lives, along with the rapidly changing ones enforced by the dreaded SAVAK--or secret police. Bad things happen, revolution is in the air, and people are killed or hurt. There's a sense of dread permeating this book as I worried about each character, but it wasn't nearly as harsh as Septembers of Shiraz. I was, in fact, surprised by the normalcy of the lives these characters lead. The relationships among the young and the old of the street are very interesting, particularly well done is the deep friendship between Pasha and Ahmed. It's not often that I've read such a nice, easy friendship between two young men.

I will admit that the ending was a little lame. The novel floats between Pasha in some kind of mental hospital in 1974 (don't let that discourage you, as it almost did me), and the summer of 1973, so we know something awful has happened. The fact that the characters move on from this 'event' is both good and interesting. I saw the 'event' coming from a mile away and didn't like it, but I'm not sure how else Seraji might have ended his novel. It's still greatly worth reading for the education and insight you get about Persian society.