AIAW Featured Writer: zohreh gharehmani

Author and writer Zohreh (Zoe) Gharemani

Excerpt from 'Sky of Red Poppies'

Some teachers don't deserve to be remembered. I think the profound contrast to such teachers might have been what gave Jenab his grandeur. In most classes nothing worth remembering happened, but I'll never forget the day Jenab proposed the review of a forbidden book.

Skipping his usual monologue, Jenab wiped the blackboard and wrote in his best calligraphy, "The Little Black Fish."

When he looked at us, the mischief in his eyes was hard to miss. "How many of you have read this book of Samad Behrangi?"

The dreadful scene of the day Mitra had brought that book home played back in my mind. Jenab knew better than any of us that such discussions were taboo at school. Back then Nelly had filled me in on a few facts. That Samad Behrangi had been a Socialist was a matter of public record. "His fairytales were cute, but Papá agrees that they also carried a hidden message," Nelly said. "Soon after the ban of The Little Black Fish, his body was found in the icy waters of a river."

Whether Nelly made up stories or not, I had learned enough to know we shouldn't talk about this book, especially not in class.

Jenab waited until the initial shock had passed and a few uncertain hands were raised. Only Shireen's hand shot up with confidence.

"Miss Payan, would you like to tell us the story?"

Shireen stood. "I wouldn't call it a story, sir."

Jenab smiled. "Indeed." And he nodded. His eyes danced as if he already knew where this was going.

"Written in the format of a children's story," Shireen began, "The little fish is only a metaphor. Most people don't realize this and before its ban, I saw copies of the book in the children's section."

A few students giggled.

"Please stay on the subject, Miss Payan," Jenab interrupted.

Shireen swallowed hard and for the next minute seemed puzzled. "The tiny fish is stuck in a shallow stream", she went on, now with less confidence, "but in fact he seeks the freedom of a vast ocean. He has everything he needs to reach his goal: Hope, vision, and courage."

As Shireen captured her audience, I knew exactly where she had learned that

and, if only she could mimic the crooked smile, the whole class would know it, too.

"I disagree", Nelly interrupted.

"Oh?" Jenab raised an eyebrow. "You have read the book?" He sounded as if he didn't believe the girl could read. "Then do share your wisdom."

I felt sorry for Nelly.

Shireen sat down and we both turned around to look at Nelly, who stood behind us and spoke directly to Jenab, ignoring the rest of us.

"He's just a dumb fish. The book is a childish story and not even well written. But these days, people read something into everything."

A few others voiced their agreement.

Nelly smiled at the girl sitting next to her.

"What about symbolism?" Shireen argued. "Behrangi chose his metaphors with such care that not every reader gets it." She said "reader" as if to mean "idiot."

Others whispered, but before class had become disrupted, Jenab spoke...

"Simple, maybe," he said. "But Behrangi's style is far from juvenile." He returned to the blackboard and read the title again, pointing to each word. "Little. Black. Fish", he annunciated. "Not a word wasted. Our protagonist is neither big nor strong; he isn't colorful or showy and, in fact, he is just another being among a crowd, living in an ordinary river. And, most importantly, he has no voice."

The pride in Jenab's smile was as if he had created this impeccable metaphor himself. "There is a little black fish in you, and me, and every one of the insignificant people in our world. In a society that suffocates its youth, Behrangi dares to suggest that they matter, that even without a voice, they can make a difference. But above all, he is saying that in order to make such a change, one must have a goal and strongly believe in it."

Jenab sat behind his desk. "If you ask me", he said and shrugged, "The book need not be banned at all. Its message is of nothing but of hope."

Shireen rose again. "Then why deliver it in such an obscure manner?"

A murmur followed.

"Quiet!" Jenab commanded, then turned to Shireen. "What obscurity are you referring to, Miss Payan? Tempting as such speculations may be, this is a literature class and I'd like to discuss this exclusively from a literary standpoint and pay attention to its poetic style. Following Antoine de Saint-Exupery's footsteps in The Little Prince, Behrangi has written his book using simple prose to describe the philosophical aspect of life."

A few voices rose, but Jenab raised both hands. "I'm not finished!" He then lowered his voice adding, "Like the power in a whisper, the splendor of Behrangi's story is indeed in its simplicity."

None of that trash in my house, Pedar had said.

I raised my hand.

"Yes, Miss Afshar?"

"Why was it banned then?"

A murmur followed in support of my question.

Jenab dismissed that with a wave of his hand. "Cynicism has caused the ban of numerous works of art. If indeed this book is not simply out of print, if it has been banned – and I'm not saying that's the case – it's a pity, indeed a shame."

A heated discussion followed while Shireen sulked without another word. When the bell rang, she stood and said to Jenab, "I'd like to know if there's an ocean out there at all? And if so, which one of us will dream enough to dare?" When Jenab continued to gather his books, she shouted over the classroom's noise, "Sir?"

Jenab didn't even look at her, as if he had not heard the question altogether.


Zohreh (Zoe) Gharehmani

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