The Septembers Of Shiraz

Isaac’s wife Farnaz is a dedicated mother and a graceful woman, whose beauty has not diminished with age, though Isaac imagines he can see their distance in her appearance: “a certain warmth, gone now, leaving her face beautiful but flat, like one of her prized paintings (67). Farnaz is also stylish, valuing art and luxury goods for their multi-layered beauty: “These objects, she had always believed, are infused with the souls of the places from which they came, and of the people who had made or sold them” (137).

Farnaz married down, as Isaac comes from a family whose downfall was well-known in the community. Although her family allowed her to marry for love, she sometimes questions whether she did the right thing: “That marriage contract, she also, knew, had brought a concrete, definitive end to her own aspirations” (135). By marrying Isaac, she gave up the chance to develop her singing and writing—something she makes up for by having a musical, and possibly sexual, relationship with pianist Vartan Sofoyan.

Farnaz’s resentment of Isaac drives some of her reluctance to leave Iran ahead of his arrest—she worries about losing her economic and social status and cannot imagine making a new life out of nothing. But the other reason she doesn’t want to leave is her deep patriotism towards an older, more tolerant version of Iran. She refuses to abandon what she sees as her home: When her parents migrated to Israel, she did not join them, asking, “Why should I leave? […] This is my country, and I am very happy right here” (167). After the Revolution, she rues that “this country has become a country of informers […] To survive, one must either become one, or disappear” (167).

After Isaac’s imprisonment, Farnaz find strength to overcome many of her personality traits. She lets go of her condescension towards her housekeeper Habibeh and faces Habibeh’s accusations of mistreatment. She searches bravely for Isaac, approaching prison guards and undergoing interrogation. She tolerates the guards’ invasion of her home and stands up to Morteza’s bullying by spraying him in the eyes with hairspray. She helps Javad to escape, despite the dangers that implies. Even her daughter Shirin sees how much stronger Farnaz has become—a transformation that readies her for resolutely accepting a future without the luxuries and stability of the past, and for being Isaac’s main support: “Her own unhappiness, negligible next to his, will have to be suppressed if they are to continue their lives together, because there is simply not enough space between them for that much sorrow” (321).

Isaac and Farnaz’s 20-year-old son Parviz has been studying architecture in New York since the October before Isaac’s arrest. Like many young men, Parviz is concerned about romantic relationships and his place in the world. However, Parviz must also cope with the loneliness of being so far from his family, his struggle with what being Jewish means to him, the upheaval to his privileged background in Tehran, and his fear for his family’s safety.

Like his mother, Parviz feels disdain for conservative Jews and their fixation on history: Going to the Mendelsons’ apartment seems to him “like relegating himself to a ghetto, where the memories of all the wrongs committed against Jews simmer year after year in bulky, indigestible stews” (42). He vows not to enter the Hassidic family’s apartment, or their lives, despite his landlord’s effusive friendliness and invitations. When he accepts Mr. Mendelson’s job offer, he sees it as “proof of his fall, from son of a wealthy man to a starving shop boy” (88). Nevertheless, after developing feelings for Rachel Mendelson, Parviz starts actively considering the possibility of converting to Hassidism to pursue her. Partly, this is because he recognizes that, as he tells Rachel: “Since I’ve lost my roots, I seem to have lost my passion” (191)—a realization that helps him confront his internalized prejudices towards Jewish traditions and culture. Still, after hearing about the different sacrifices his neighbor Mr. Broukhim and Mr. Mendelson made to give up romance for pragmatic or idealistic reasons, Parviz makes the rational choice not to give up his freedom for Rachel.

Nine-year-old Shirin is a pretty, sensitive, and delicate girl, a product of her previously coddled existence. At the beginning of the novel, Shirin is very childish, using magical thinking to imagine having stolen her mother’s ring and teapot without being aware of it. Her vivid imagination and introverted nature means the long times she now spends alone lead to all kinds of worries and fears—including the recurring one about things and people disappearing.

Shirin is forced to grow up fast as she is witness to the Revolution’s brutalities: guards ransacking her house, her mother’s tearful reaction to their situation, and the family’s newly low position: “Until recently, housekeepers sat on the floor, people like Shirin and her family sat on sofas, the king sat on a throne. This was once the order of things, and it had seemed right. Now the order has been muddled” (89). Like all the members of her family, Shirin finds inner resources of bravery, taking risks like stealing files on dissents in hopes of saving her father and helping her mother destroy incriminating photos and letters. Shirin often seeks refuge in memories of happy days in the past, but her inner dialogue becomes more and more mature as she considers the meaning of poems her father used to recite and paintings she used to wonder about. When her father returns, she reflects on his much-changed appearance and actively protects his psyche by withholding her curiosity.