A Bridge Over the River Suren
Abstract
Hedayat's inimitable influence on Iran's literati has remained unaffected over the years. The reason is his complex personality and extraordinary effect on the structure and direction of literary thought in modem Iran. Although there are many ways in which his personality and his work may be studied, this essay focuses on Hedayat's "national feeling": his attitude toward Iran and the Persian language.
Iranian (and perhaps all) writers and poets, including those who
constitute the highest peaks of our literary achievement, fall in three categories: those who articulate the present (Sa'di, Hafez), those who forego the present in favor of the future or the past (Ferdowsi), and those whose trek is timeless (Khayyam, Nezami, and Riimi). For most Iranian writers, the past has been the favorite intellectual abode. They denigrate the present in order to prepare the ground for eulogizing the past. Their motive seems to be nationalism. Hedayat is the example par excellence of this genre.
There are two reasons for this attitude. The first is a profound anti-Arabism that goes back to the 2nd century AH and has remained one of the
strongest national forces throughout the Iranian history. The second is a
propensity toward the West, which, at least since the Constitutional Revolution, has been a force propelling the "Aryan Iran of yesterday" toward a "European Iran of tomorrow."
The divide between the pre-Muslim and Muslim Iran in Hedayat's
writings is symbolized by the River Suren. In Parvin Daughter of Sasan a
fateful combat between Arabs and Iranians is enacted on a bank of the Suren, which ends in Arab victory, signalling the fall of Iran. In Bilf-e Kilr, the ethereal girl in pre-Islamic Iran turns into the Lakkateh as soon as she crosses the river to the Islamic period.
Interestingly, Hedayat's anti-Arab disposition does not spill over to his
language. He was never a "purifier" of Persian. Rather, he saw the Persian
language as the common heritage of all Iranians regardless of national
boundaries. For him, the water that passed through the Suren was also a symbol of this language, carrying the glory of Iranian culture for the ages that lay ahead in the future. In the light of his intransigeance toward the Arabs, on one hand, and his liberal attitude toward Persian, on the other, the question remains: Is it possible to consider Hedayat a "fanatic nationalist"?
Iranian (and perhaps all) writers and poets, including those who
constitute the highest peaks of our literary achievement, fall in three categories: those who articulate the present (Sa'di, Hafez), those who forego the present in favor of the future or the past (Ferdowsi), and those whose trek is timeless (Khayyam, Nezami, and Riimi). For most Iranian writers, the past has been the favorite intellectual abode. They denigrate the present in order to prepare the ground for eulogizing the past. Their motive seems to be nationalism. Hedayat is the example par excellence of this genre.
There are two reasons for this attitude. The first is a profound anti-Arabism that goes back to the 2nd century AH and has remained one of the
strongest national forces throughout the Iranian history. The second is a
propensity toward the West, which, at least since the Constitutional Revolution, has been a force propelling the "Aryan Iran of yesterday" toward a "European Iran of tomorrow."
The divide between the pre-Muslim and Muslim Iran in Hedayat's
writings is symbolized by the River Suren. In Parvin Daughter of Sasan a
fateful combat between Arabs and Iranians is enacted on a bank of the Suren, which ends in Arab victory, signalling the fall of Iran. In Bilf-e Kilr, the ethereal girl in pre-Islamic Iran turns into the Lakkateh as soon as she crosses the river to the Islamic period.
Interestingly, Hedayat's anti-Arab disposition does not spill over to his
language. He was never a "purifier" of Persian. Rather, he saw the Persian
language as the common heritage of all Iranians regardless of national
boundaries. For him, the water that passed through the Suren was also a symbol of this language, carrying the glory of Iranian culture for the ages that lay ahead in the future. In the light of his intransigeance toward the Arabs, on one hand, and his liberal attitude toward Persian, on the other, the question remains: Is it possible to consider Hedayat a "fanatic nationalist"?
