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http://reading.kingrat.biz/archives/717 http://reading.kingrat.biz/?p=717
By no means am I an expert on Iran. Even though my knowledge of the country and its politics since the 1979 revolution is limited, I can’t say I learned a whole lot from this memoir. And Ms. Nemat’s writing style is fairly dry and devoid of emotional affectation. Sometimes that’ good and helps a work avoid the maudlin. And in this case, it meant I never had a solid emotional reaction to the horrors Ms. Nemat endured. More clinical I guess.
Marina Nemat became a political prisoner at the age of 16 because of her support for anti-Khomeini crowds and anti-authoritarian views at her school. Briefly tortured, she was sentenced to execution. A last minute intervention by one of her interrogators resulted in her sentence being commuted to life, and later reduced to three years. In return, she had to convert to Islam and marry her tormentor.
In other words, she wouldn’t be killed if she agreed to be raped. Quite the choice.</>
Pretty decent read, but not great. I’m at a loss as to what else to write about the book. It’s definitely worthwhile, and even more so for those people interested in Iran that don’t know much about it. But there has to be better writings about the country out there.
Title: Prisoner of Tehran: a memoir
Author: Marina Nemat
Cover creator: Eric Fuentecilla (designer)
Imprint / publisher: Free Press / Simon & Schuster
Format: Hardcover
Length: 306 p.
Publication date: 2007
ISBN-10: 1-4165-3742-2
ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-3742-7
Subject: Nemat, Marina
Subject: Women political prisoners — Iran — Biography
Subject: Political prisoners — Iran — Biography
Subject: Iran — Politics and government — 1979-1997
LC classification: DS318.84.N46 A3 2006
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(...or perhaps more properly, "Off the road adventures," since we're still in Bozeman visiting my family.) I spent yesterday re-acquainting myself with this town that was home for so many years. Bozeman's grown by nearly a quarter of its size in the last 4 years; there's so much that's entirely new and foreign to my eyes here. I gave Schuyler what passes for a grand tour here: there's where I got arrested, that's where the Great Hippy Roundup took place, I used to live there and my roommate threw his queen-sized bed through a single pane window. Good times. :) My brother and I wandered past the old "punk house," site of countless moments of drunken debauchery, random outbursts, and floor-to-ceiling Schmidt Ice cans. It's, um, changed a bit:  The crappy cell phone pic doesn't really do justice to the amazing pale blue and yellowness of it, nor does it adequately capture the white trellis and country-kitsch "Welcome Home" sign. My heart, she is broken. After a day that I spent wandering and S. spent working, we reconvened to have dinner and play pool with my aunt, brothers, and their S.O.'s. Tasty food, mellow family dinner, very nice all 'round. :) Schuyler and I went for a post-dinner walk through Sunset Hills Cemetery so that I could show him my favorite headstone of all time:  Yep, that's amused me since I was 13 and it's still funny. We finished up at the top of Peak's Hill, where I once again completely failed to do justice to the scenery by using my cell phone camera to capture it:  After soaking in the beauty (and small grass-dwelling insects and a fair amount of high-altitude sun), we headed back to the house, visited with my other auntie and small cousin, and had a long, slow wind-down to a long, slow day. We'll be sticking around here until after the 4th so that my uncle Rob can have his best shot at blowing off our fingers with expensive fireworks. :D More later! Tags: adventures, family, peektures, road trip, s. Current Mood: sleepy
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