The last movie we went to was a re-viewing of Paterson (2016) about a poet who is stymied by a well-meaning but limited wife.  The wife grabbed my eye but she played such a bad part that I longed for more. Today we saw Reading Lolita in Teheran (2024) and I was thrilled to find her there.  Golshifteh Farahani. This time, her role gave her something of the opportunity to show the range of her emotions.  

What is the range demanded of her?   love of a country that gradually turns from a promised democracy to a religious autocracy, defiance that gradually turns to defeat and is replaced by the power of self preservation.  And throughout, a belief that literature can help extend the boundaries of the individual and open minds.  

Of course as a professor of literature there was no way I could avoid identifying with her, and as a troubled citizen in Israel there was no way I could avoid the fear of extremism.  When she explains her position to a friend ““My grandmother was the most devout Muslim I knew. She never missed a prayer. But she wore her scarf because she was devout, not because she was a symbol,”  I could not avoid thinking of how many women in Israel dress – the Muslim women in a hijab, the settlers in long skirts and weird headpieces (Ezi calls them chamberpots)… I could go on but then I’ll never get to make up some of the sleep we missed during the Iranian bombing.