©2002 netlangs@yahoo.com
This section will give a brief biography of Hushang Moradi Kermani’s life and work before starting on a synopsis and discussion of his stories and essays, and the philosophy which they represent.
Hushang Moradi Kermani, author and scriptwriter, was born in a village near Kerman in south central Iran in 1944. At 12, he left his village, first moving to Kerman and then to Tehran, where he attended university, graduating in English Literature. He began his career at the national radio as a writer for children and youth programs, and cooperated with a number of literary magazines. Married with three children, he has become the most distinguished writer for young people in Iran; he is read widely and has received numerous awards, as Professor N. Ansari relates in Pooyesh,[1] including the Children’s Book Council Award (1979), the National Book Award (1985) and the Grand Prix of the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults (1990).[2]
Professor Ansari describes Moradi’s work briefly as follows: Qeseha-ye Majid (Stories of Majid), 5 volumes containing 37 short stories (1979-1987; complete set reprinted in one volume, 1988); Bacheha-ye Qalibaf-khane (The Children of the Carpet Weaving Factory) (1980); Nakhl (Date Palm) (1982); Chakmeh (The Boot) (1984); and Dastan-e An Khomreh (The Story of That Jar) (1989).
Qeseha-ye Majid portray the characters of the boy Majid and his grandmother Bibi, and present the encounter of tradition with transition in tales of subtle irony and satire, while Bacheha-ye Qalibaf-khane is a moving testimony to the hardships which children in Iran have had to endure. Nakhl is a mystical work of great depth in which the hero, Morad appears as a symbol of the wisdom of Persia.
Moradi’s first work for younger children, Chakmeh (The Boot), tells of the adventures of a pair of boots which lose one another. This story featured in a primary school text for Tajiki and Afghani learners of Farsi. Dastan-e An Khomreh (The Story of That Jar), recently made into a prize-winning film, illuminates the sociology of a village through describing the simple problems faced by a schoolteacher and his pupils. These works, several of which have been reprinted many times, are published by Sahab, Tehran.[3]
Ms. Lili Hayeri Yazdi notes that Moradi received the Hans Christian Andersen Award in 1992, The Blue Cobra Award in 1994 and The Jose Marti Award in 1995.[4] Moradi more recently received the UNICEF Plate of Appreciation for the role his books have played in promoting children’s rights in Iran as well as to the general world population. Other tributes have come from Krima Pacific Rim 2000, where his book, Bacheha-ye Qalibaf-khane (The Children of the Carpet Weaving Factory), was recognized by the International Munich Library.[5]
The juvenilia jury in Costa Rica also granted the Jose Marti Award to Moradi Kermani, from among 130 literary works presented by 30 famous writers world-wide. The host country later requested to receive an inclusive collection of all the writer’s literary compositions for translation and further utilization in Akhillis Nasura Main Reference Library. Moreover, the Latin America Regional Foundation as well as CPNB Institute[6] also granted him their honorary diplomas for his excellent literary works, which addresses crucial global humanitarian issues.[7]
Iran online yellow pages describe Moradi in the following terms, emphasizing the broadcast of his stories on television: ‘As a household name, Moradi Kermani is quite popular among all Iranian families. Kermani’s most successful work, a TV series called Majid Stories, not only has been shown on IRIB several times,[8] but was also declared as the best juvenilia in Iran in 1981. His books have been translated into German, Dutch, English, Spanish and Arabic. In addition, Moradi Kermani’s remarkable accomplishments also include thirteen literary pieces and twenty domestic awards…’[9]
Moradi has produced over 20 wide screen and TV films, many of which have been entered in international festivals, including the
Golden Leopard in the Lucarno Festival. A Hot Afternoon, Bread and Poem, New Year Suit, Shame, Sport, The Boot, The Camp, The
Dream, The Shrimp, The Sweater, Sweet Jam, The Jar and Tick-Tock are all films based on his stories.[10]
Moradi has also featured
in a film named Stories, directed by Mehdi Jafari Faramushjani, which attempts to portray his life through interviews with friends
and relatives and to reveal his personality through an analysis of his stories.[11]
Moradi’s most famous work is his collection Qeseha-ye Majid (Stories of Majid). These were first broadcast on radio in 1353/1974, the first volume was published in 1979, the year of the Revolution, and the stories were later televised. Volume II,[12] taken as an example from this collection, was awarded the CBC monetary prize at the Children’s Book Council Awards in 1360/1981 in the category of young adults, and is described as ‘10 short stories about an adolescent boy, Majid, who lives with his old and wise grandmother, Bibi, in a small town in south-eastern Iran. The hardships of life and the struggle to preserve some of the old social values are described in a fine humorous style.’[13]
Another review says Moradi ‘treats a variety of problems with finesse, and shows human relationships and a deep sense of humor. The experiences described are familiar to the majority of children.’[14] The Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance (Vizarat Ershad Islami) awarded the national book prize in the domain of children’s literature for 1987 to Moradi Kermani for Qeseha-ye Majid IV[15] (Stories of Majid, Vol. 4).[16] The fifth and last of the volume of the collection[17] is described in the Children’s Book Council Awards section by Mansoureh Rai as follows: ‘The author vividly and sensitively depicts snippets of Iranian life, culture and society, and finally brings to an end the series of books about Majid by letting Bibi become part of nature again.’[18]
Nakhl (Date Palm)[19] is another award-winning story by this author, described by Professor Ansari as the story of a young boy who lives in a village on the border of the Kavir (the desert at the center of Iran). His parents have been killed in a flood and he has placed all his hope in a date seed that a passing dervish has planted for him by the brook. His aunt and her husband decide to send him away to town to work as a houseboy, but the boy escapes in an effort to build his own future.[20]
The entry for children’s literature in Encyclopaedia Iranica mentions Moradi in connection with another of his well-known books:
Julinda Abu-Nasr even includes Moradi Kermani in her section on children’s writers in the ‘Arab’ world:
As seen above, the 1992 Hans Christian Andersen jury highly commended Moradi and awarded him the Certificate of Honor for the entire body of his work, describing it as an ‘oeuvre characterized by seriousness, empathy, and profound social conscience.’[25]
Tooran Mirhadi relates how the Children’s Book Council was instrumental in the selection of Moradi’s work to represent Iran for this award:
Ms. Mirhadi adds that the characteristics which led to Moradi’s work being accepted by the Committeee was that they felt that it satisfied one of the requisites for the Andersen’s award, namely that the author’s work must have a lasting contribution on children’s literature. Ms. Mirhadi feels that the translation of Moradi’s works into European languages and the acclaim given to them shows that they made the right choice; in Austria, Moradi’s work received best book of the year award; the Swiss awarded a prize to the German translation and in Germany, the collection was listed as one of the best works.
Moradi has participated in cinematography conferences such as the four-day ‘Seminar on Iranian Cinema and Its Audience’ in December 1998 at the House of Cinema, Tehran,[27] and more recently visited London, UK, for a seminar on literature for Iranian children[28] where he presented a paper, and screened his prize-winning film Khomreh (the Jar). The event program noted that a distinctive feature of Moradi’s work is his humor on the social problems of his time.[29] In order to understand what it is about Moradi’s stories that make them so successful and universally liked, a selection is included below in English translation.
4.3.2 The Drum
Majid’s greatest dream is to own a drum like his neighbor Mahmood Agha’s. Day and night, he thinks of the drum. It appears in his dreams; he even sees himself on the roof of his house beating it, and hears its wonderful sound. He drums unconsciously in his sleep as a result, scattering feathers from his pillow all over the bed.
Drums are beaten on the nights of the fasting-month, to wake people up to eat and to say their morning prayers. From the roof, Majid watches Mahmood Agha beating the drum in the dim light of the stars just before dawn and sometimes in the moonlight to wake the people up. On mourning days in the month of Moharram, too, the drums are beaten in front of the crowds of mourners, who strike their chests in time with the rhythmic sounds.
Majid plucks up his courage and goes to the roof of his neighbor’s house and asks him if he can beat his drum, explaining that it is his greatest desire. But Mahmood Agha is outraged and tells Majid that it is impossible as drumming is not a child’s business.
Majid then goes to a shop which sells drums and other musical instruments, but the price of a drum is quite beyond his pocket. He asks his grandmother for money to buy one, but she only scolds him and tells him to get on with his studies.
Majid takes to drawing big pictures of drums and making his own set of wooden drumsticks. Finally, one day, when Mahmood Agha is out of the house, he decides to take the greatest risk he has ever taken, without caring about being punished or beaten. He takes the drumsticks, tiptoes into Mahmood Agha’s house, past Khadijeh Khanom, Mahmood Agha’s wife, who is in the kitchen, round the flower bed, past the cackling hens and roosters under the pomegranate tree, and into the closet where the drum is kept, the doors of which are standing open.
The drum is leaning against the wall, a beam of light from the doors falling on its skin. Majid’s heart is beating quickly and he rubs his hand on the drum’s soft, smooth surface. First, he taps on the drum with his fingers just to hear how it sounds. But then he finds the courage to hit the drum with his sticks. When Khadijeh Khanom, Mahmood Agha’s wife, comes to see what’s making the loud noise, she thinks it’s a chicken that has hit the drum; she chases the bird away and closes and latches the closet doors. Majid is trapped in the closet, imprisoned with the beloved drum. He drifts off to sleep, awakening at sunset to hear his grandmother Bibi crying to Khadijeh Khanom that he has been lost for hours. Bibi’s sobs stir Majid into giving himself up, but he decides to first beat the drum so that at least he won’t be getting into trouble for nothing. He drums until he is tired and then when the sound of the drum dies down he hears screaming and shouting outside. When he peeps through the doors he sees a crowd of people pointing to the closet and Bibi, who has fainted. Khadijeh Khanom thinks the house is haunted. As he watches, three thick-necked, strongly built men, each carrying a big club, head toward the doors, all the while whispering the name of God. Majid is afraid they will kill him and shouts out that it is Majid. When the men hear his voice, they drop their clubs and run away. The crowd, too, run out of the house wailing with fear. Majid persists until two or three people - still in some fear of genies - come trembling toward the doors and open them. When he comes out the crowd stare at him silently, making him feel ashamed of what he has done. He goes to look for Bibi, who has just opened her eyes and is taking some syrup. He confesses to her that he was the one who was beating the drum. Bibi, is at first sympathetic towards Majid because of her relief in seeing him, and for his ordeal in the dark, but when she recovers and realizes the chaos Majid has caused by sneaking into their neighbor’s house for the drum, she gets mad and looks for a big stick to punish him. Mahmood Agha and his wife Khadijeh Khanom both beg Bibi to forgive him. Little by little other wishes take the place of Majid’s wish for the drum, and each of these new wishes help him to grow up until he becomes a man and is able to stand on his own two feet.[30]
4.3.3 The Samovar (Samovar)
The story of the Samovar starts when Majid’s grandmother Bibi and some of her neighbors pool their money to buy a joint wedding present for Mrs. Tahereh’s daughter. As Bibi is greatly respected among her neighbors for her good taste and excellent manners, she is chosen to go to the bride’s house to see what sort of present might be useful for the bride. After paying Mrs. Tahereh’s daughter a visit, Bibi decides that a new samovar is exactly what she needs. Bibi collects some money from her neighbors and sets off for the market, together with her sister-in-law Kokab, Akram, and Majid. They search high and low, but none of the samovars in the market satisfy Bibi. In the end, they come to a shop at the end of the rnarket, where they find a golden, potbellied samovar of the highest quality. Even Majid admires the gleaming yellow samovar and enjoys looking at his reflection in it. This samovar is much more expensive than all the others, and the money that has been collected is not enough. The more they bargain, the less the shopkeeper is willing to reduce his price. Bibi is determined to buy this samovar and no other and offers to pay the rest of the money herself in order to buy something special for the young couple.
Majid is entrusted with getting the samovar home, which he does with great difficulty as it is very heavy. Everyone is very happy with the samovar when they see it and Kokab collects more money from them to make up for the extra that Bibi has paid. She then decides that Majid, who has done a good job carrying the samovar home from the market, should take the samovar to the bride’s house in the afternoon.
Majid tries to avoid the chore by using an upcoming exam as an excuse, but Bibi says he can study when he comes back come. Kokab jokes that she has been thinking of marrying her daughter to Majid but she doesn’t want a lazy son-in-law. Her daughter starts crying because she doesn’t want to marry Majid, and Bibi takes this as an insult against her grandson. In order to keep the peace Majid agrees to do the job as long as he can borrow a bicycle to carry the samovar on. Kokab agrees to lend Majid her husband’s bicycle and by two o’clock in the afternoon everything is ready. The samovar is wrapped and tightly tied to the bicycle and Majid is instructed to walk with the bicycle so the samovar will be safe. After he passes a couple of alleys he becomes impatient and decides to ride the bicycle to speed up his task. He clatters down the bumpy road and arrives at the bride’ house well before Bibi and her friends. Then he is too shy to go in by himself and decides to go to his Aunt Soghra’s house, which is nearby. His aunt is sick and his unexpected appearance cheers her up. Majid notices that two cats are playing behind the bicycle and, fearing that they may knock it over and damage the samovar, he unties it and takes it inside with him, putting it in the corner. When his aunt sees the samovar she thinks Majid has brought it as a present for her and starts to kiss him and to thank him. As she excitedly unwraps it, Majid is unable to say a word. She insists that they make tea and Majid thinks he will be able to tell her while they are drinking tea. As the water boils he starts thinking about Bibi and the others, who must have reached the bride’s house by now. His aunt prepares the tea and tells Majid she will be back in a minute. Majid manages to babble something about Mrs. Tahereh’s daughter getting married but his aunt is not paying attention and goes to call her neighbors in for tea. Two ladies come and join them and Aunt Soghra praises Majid, making it impossible for him to say any more. He continues to worry about Bibi and jumps up to leave. He makes a last attempt to retrieve the samovar by telling his aunt that it is not a good samovar and he will take it and bring another one, but his aunt laughs at him and sys she’s very pleased with it. He takes the cloth that the samovar was wrapped in and leaves. He cycles back home, takes an old samovar from the back room, wraps it up, and takes it to the bride’s house. When he enters Bibi asks him to put the bundle in front of the bride and announces that this is their joint present to the bride. Majid goes outside in fright. Bib starts to unwrap the bundle, to the cheers of the assembled guests, but as the old samovar emerges, the applause dies down. Bibi is in shock, as the bride’s mother manages to thank her for the gift, but manages to go outside to ask Majid what has happened to the new samovar. He explains the whole story to her and begs her not to say anything about it to Aunt Soghra. Kokab comes out and is also told what has happened. She informs the guests of the fate of the samovar originally intended as a gift and once they hear the story they start to laugh. Majid has to return to the market to buy another samovar the next day, as well as take home the old samovar, under the watchful eye of Bibi and her neighbors .[31]
4.3.4 Poor Dumb Animals
One day Majid comes home to find his grandmother packing. She is getting ready to spend a week with her brother, who is having an emergency and needs her help. Bibi tells Majid that he should stay with his sister, but come home two or three times a day in order to water the flowers, feed the poultry (four hens, two roosters and a turkey), and take care of the lamb. Majid sees Bibi off at the bus terminal and then returns home to check the house before going to his sister’s house. On the way, he checks the money Bibi has given him to buy animal food. He counts it and is tempted to spend some of it on himself. He thinks about all the food the animals eat and remembers his grandmothers words: ‘The stomach is a bottomless pit. The more you put in it, the less it is satisfied. You could put the whole world in it, and it still wouldn’t be enough. So, as you can see, it’s not good to be the slave of one’s stomach.’ Majid decides to ask the animals to eat less so that he can have some of the money. With these thoughts he enters the confectioner’s and spends one-sixth of the money on sweets. Then he passes a bookshop and spends four-sixths of the money on a copy of Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables,[32] finally arriving at his sister’s with only one-sixth of the money remaining. He spends the evening reading his new book instead of studying his schoolbooks and refuses dinner, as he is full up with sweets. The next day Majid’s sister wakes him up at dawn so he can feed the animals before going to school. When he gets home all the animals are crying for food and he feeds them with what is remaining. At school, Majid is unable to pay attention to his lessons; all he can think about is how to feed the animals for six more days on the little he has left. He imagines the animals dying from hunger and the result when his grandmother returns. At noon he buys millet and oats and goes home to feed the animals. He gives a little alfalfa to the lamb who gobbles it down and asks for more. Majid gives the lamb another few mouthfuls while delivering a lecture about how much luckier this lamb is than the ones who have to forage for cardboard and rubbish on the city streets, and how spoiled it is, and how it is not in the countryside now. The lamb gobbles all the food up and eyes the remaining pile of alfalfa. The poultry start making noises to show that they are still hungry too, so Majid gives them more millet and oats. Then he notices that the lamb is straining on its rope to reach the alfalfa. He tells the lamb off, and announces to all the animals that he has no more food for them due to financial embarrassment and however much noise they make it will not change the situation. He then goes to his sister’s house to sleep.
Majid gets through the third day by alternatively lecturing and threatening the animals to eat less, but by the fourth day, the animals are so hungry that he has to spend his pocket money on more food for them. Despite this, he can hear their racket a kilometer away from the house as he returns from school. As he enters, the animals see him and clamor even more. Majid shouts at them to stop making noise and disgracing him and reminds them of how kind he has been to them. This has no effect and the din continues, causing his neighbor to look over the wall and ask what is going on and why the animals have been disturbing the whole neighborhood. Another neighbor asks why no one is looking after the poor animals. Majid raids his grandmother’s emergency wheat store and feeds it to the poultry. He remembers that the lamb cannot eat grain as it will get stomachache, and picks vine leaves for it. These are not enough to satisfy its hunger and it soon starts baaing again. Majid confesses to the animals that he has spent their food money on sweets and a book because he thought that he could deceive them. The animals eat everything he has given them and start making a racket again, driving Majid out of the house in search of more food for them. He runs to the corn merchant to ask for some alfalfa on credit, succeeds in getting enough for one meal, and runs back home with it. He feeds the animals and then goes to his sister’s house to sleep. On the fifth day, Majid plays truant in the afternoon and goes outside the city in search of grass for the lamb. When he returns it is almost sunset and he hears the noise of the animals from far away. Even the grocer, who lives nowhere near Majid’s house, has heard the noise and knows that the animals are being starved. All the neighbors and shopkeepers, even the baker, are crowding round Majid’s door when he gets home and begin to scold him when they see the small pile of grass he has brought. They ask him did Bibi not give him any money to buy food, why has he not been feeding the animals, and they threaten to tell her what a cruel, naughty boy he has been when she returns. One neighbor accuses him of being so busy playing that he has forgotten all about the poor animals. Majid, unable to defend himself, keeps his head down and finally enters the house, closing the door in their faces. The lamb starts to gobble up the grass Majid has brought while the poultry follow him around angrily. The turkey keeps darting at him as if to peck him with its sharp beak. Majid is forced to go and raid the precious emergency wheat store again to save face in front of the neighbors, even though Bibi never gives any of it to the poultry. As they gobble it up, the lamb finishes the grass and starts baaing at the top of its voice again. Majid tries to calm it down by telling it that tomorrow he will get food even if he has to sell his clothes and anyway it is better for it not to eat too much as the more it eats, the fatter it will get, and the sooner it will be eaten. The lamb pays no attention and in desperation, Majid lights a lantern, takes the lamb by its rope, and leaves the house with the intention of letting it graze outside the city. It continues baaing as they leave, causing the neighbors to open their doors to see where it is going. Majid gives some excuses and goes on his way. As he reaches a street leading out of the city, some big dogs start barking. Majid, thinking the dogs are going to eat both him and the lamb, turns on his heels and, dragging the baaing lamb along, runs for his life. He remembers that his sister has a lamb at her house and decides to take his lamb for a visit. That night the lamb has as much to eat as it wants and keeps quiet. On the sixth day, Majid takes Les Misérables back to the bookseller and begs him to return his money. He receives three quarters of what he paid for it and buys enough alfalfa, millet and barley to feed the animals until Bibi returns home. To Majid’s great relief, Bibi comes home on the eighth day.[33]
4.3.5 The Milk (Shir)
Majid remembers when he was learning to walk. Abdolrasool’s wife, Mah-bibi, watched his attempts fondly saying that he began to walk early, like her own children, because of her rich and nourishing milk. If only his mother were alive to see him! Then Akbar’s, mother came and Majid played with Akbar, who suddenly kicked him. It really hurt, so Majid bit his arm and made him cry. When Akbar’s mother looked at his arm, she saw the marks Majid’s sharp teeth had left, and got annoyed, saying that it was her nourishing milk that made Majid’s teeth grow so strong and sharp. She wished she hadn’t fed him and threatened to pull his teeth out one by one. Majid started crying and she calmed down and asked him how he could bite his own brother who drank the same milk.
Majid grows older, playing in the alleys and climbing over walls. Everywhere there are women who remember how they have breastfed Majid. He has mothers in every alley. As the women scrub dishes and clothes at the stream, each of them shares her memories of raising Majid. One remembers how her own daughter used to drink only a little milk before falling asleep, and then Majid would drink all the rest. Another laments that his mother died so young, at only 17-18, and left him motherless in the world. His father, Fazlol’lah, would wander around the village with the baby Majid in his arms, stopping every woman who had a baby to ask her to breastfeed his motherless son. Some women would run and hide when they saw them as they didn’t have enough milk to feed their own child, let alone someone else’s. Another woman disagrees, remembering that the women in the village took turns feeding him. The next says that he would never suck on a pacifier or drink cow or goat’s milk. Only human milk was good enough for him. Yet another woman attributes it to his good taste and appetite, while another remembers her husband complaining that their own child would go without.
Majid has a hard time trying to keep all his mothers happy and sometimes avoids the streets where some of them live. When they spot him they send him shopping and give him money for sweets, or send him to gather firewood to bake bread, and bake a small bun for him. Others reminisce about how they used to leave their work in the fields to feed him; another asks him to sing for her, saying that her milk has given him his wonderful voice.
On the other hand, some mothers never acknowledge feeding Majid, in order not to upset him; although he learns about it from their children or others. Some children accuse Majid of drinking all their mother’s milk, leaving nothing for them. All Majid’s schoolmates at the village school are his brothers and sisters.
One says to Majid that her mother has told her they are brother and sister. Another says that it does not matter if Majid has drunk his share of milk as long as Majid gives him an eraser. When Majid refuses he threatens to tell his mother to curse the milk that she fed Majid on. When a fight breaks out, several of Majid’s brothers come to his defense and deal with the other boy so he doesn’t go around boasting of how his mother has fed Majid.
Majid’s teacher has two paper hats, one orange with ‘Loser’ written on it, and one blue with ‘Bravo’ on it. These hats are for children who have done well or poorly in school. Instead of beating the children or congratulating them, the teacher simply makes them wear a hat on their head while returning home through the village so everyone can tell if the student wearing the hat has done well or not.
Majid has done badly several times in a row. He hasn’t done his homework; he fails a math test; and on top of that, he slaps Mustafa, for boasting about his mother’s milk. So the teacher makes him wear the ‘Loser’ hat and sends him home with two older boys to make sure he does not remove the hat. As the boys return through the village, Majid’s mothers stare at him over their garden walls and through their windows, muttering in disgust as they see the orange ‘Loser’ hat. Majid’s brothers and sisters glare at him and no one sympathizes with him or claims to be his mother, brother or sister any more. All of Majid’s mothers, brothers and sisters turn against him.
One of his mothers says she fed him once or twice at the most; she had no milk to feed him. Another says that when his father brought him to her, her milk had all dried up; He would not be such an embarrassment had he drunk her milk. The third admits feeding him, but many others, for instance, Rokhsareh also fed him; Her older son turned out to be a lazy student and her other son failed in school for the third year in a row. One of the children complains that he just snuggles up to her claiming to be her half-brother and she doesn’t need such a brother.
Majid realizes that his failure has cost him his relatives, so he decides to work hard at his studies in order to earn the ‘Bravo’ hat. He works day and night. At school, he greets everyone politely. By the second term, he distinguishes himself by becoming fourth in the class. The teacher, seeing his progress, gives him the ‘Bravo’ hat, and this time sends him home alone. Majid finds a rusty scrap of tin by the roadside and tying it around his neck, begins beating it with a stick so everyone will come and see him. Mothers come to their windows and doors. They look over the mud walls. Brothers and sisters admire him. Mothers pour dry figs, nuts, and raisins into Majid’s pockets. Behind him, brothers and sisters fall in step, asking to carry his school bag so he can beat more freely on the rusty piece of tin. Now Majid has really become somebody. From a rooftop, one of his mothers calls out: ‘Bless my milk!’[34]
Whether they make the reader want to laugh or cry, Moradi’s stories all have the effect of provoking thought about some issue or other. Ebrahimi comments on the way Moradi uses his characters to make a statement:
‘The author does not want to make slogans; he just wants to show them in action. For example, praising honesty and truthfulness are indirectly seen in The Samovar. Sometimes Majid is not able to say directly what he means. In this story he cannot tell his aunt that he did not bring the samovar for her. As a result, he runs into difficulties. The author is the mirror of wittiness in people’s behavior and how they see themselves, and he criticizes them for it. This desire to show off and sense of superiority is seen in the character of Majid. In his own mind, he sees people applauding and cheering in gratitude to him.’[35]
This tendency of children to show off, or to appear wiser or more knowledgable than they really are, is portrayed in many children’s stories. In one example, the children’s magazine, No Amuz, shows that sometimes actions taken to avoid loss of face can be harmful to others. In ‘The Adventures of Amin and Akram,’[36] Bibi Nabat receives a letter from her son and asks Amin to read it for him. Afraid of refusing her request, he agrees. When Akram tries to dissuade him, saying it would be better to give the letter back to Bibi Nabat and let her find someone who can read it, he tells her, ‘No, leave it, she doesn’t know what’s written in this letter; I’ll read something for her, because if I tell her I can’t read it I’ll lose face.’ He improvises and upsets Bibi Nabat, giving her the bad news that her son is sick. When Amu Rahim later reads the letter and finds that it says something else, he is very cross with Amin, who then, while blaming it on the handwriting, confesses that he could not bring himself to admit that he was unable to read it. Thus the theme of covering up one’s ignorance and being unable to refuse the requests of others occurs in other children’s stories and is a theme not only found in Moradi’s stories..
Moradi uses his stories to make observations and comments about society indirectly. Criticism of the education system features in one of the Majid stories, The Memorable Photograph, when the school office is described as a dangerous place for children, and where physical punishment and the conduct of the system of education is questioned.
The life of the rich is shown in reflection to that of the poor. The problem of the inequality of material wealth in society can
be seen in the story called The New Year’s Gift. Ebrahimi says that in this story ‘the author uses satire with various
techniques. Also, the tone of the character and his sense of showing off become a normal characteristic of the main character.’[37]
He further describes how in this story the teacher asks the schoolchildren to give the janitor a gift as a new year present. One
of the rich boys in the class announces that he is going to give more money than everyone else. Majid, who is very poor, wants to
show him up and says that he will bring even more money. Majid’s problems in obtaining this money are dramatically shown as his
struggle displays the real differences between his life and the rich boy’s.[38]
While Majid does often want to show off and gain applause for himself, often his actions are based on the desire to show up the
inequality and unfairness that he confronts in everyday life.
Moradi Kermani’s work can be likened to that of Chekhov,[39] whose work is described as follows: ‘The style of his stories, novels, and plays, emphasizing internal drama, characterization, and mood rather than plot and focusing on the tragicomic aspects of banal events, had great influence.’[40] However, in Moradi Kermani’s writing, the plot, usually entwined with the most ordinary and everyday events, is very much an integral part of the overall story development.
Moradi Kermani has become a renowned children’s writer in Iran, almost despite himself, it seems. He says that when he writes, he doesn’t think about children at all. He doesn’t prefer them to other people and doesn’t make a special effort to please them. He never tells himself that he must not make mistakes or must keep in mind the reading ability and level of experience of his readers. He doesn’t make efforts to cross over from adulthood to reach childhood, by stooping or bending down, nor does he walk on his knees to become small, to see the world as children supposedly do. He says that he doesn’t have ‘ready-made speeches or handy advice to wrap in the shiny paper of a story’ but puts on paper what he himself enjoys. He is happy that many young people read his stories, find pleasure in them and identify with them, but sees it as almost an accident or a miracle, something that arose along the way, rather than as the planned outcome of his writing.[41]
Moradi himself says that he came to writing for children in a roundabout way:
‘At the time I began to write the first of my Majid stories I had read only a single book written for children. It was the only book available where I worked and where I slept at night. I read it, but it did not impress me at all. Before what might be called my Majid period, I had no high opinion of children’s books. I had only heard of the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults. I thought writing for children meant writing to order. Didactic themes and propaganda came to mind. Books seemed like recreational toys for children who had leisure and could live in comfort. For my part, I had spent my childhood, like so many Iranian children, under the most difficult conditions, living on the edge of the desert in central Iran, a region oppressed by both nature and man. Every part of my body and soul had been shaped by misfortune. I was reluctant to conjure up glorious past times for the pleasure of those who could afford to buy books and read. And I was also a bit arrogant. Writing for children was not good enough. Just between the two of us: I had no idea how or what to write about ‘the lazy bear’ or ‘the impolite crow’. I still don’t know how to do this. For example, I don’t know how a crow speaks and whether our crows in Kerman speak differently from the crows in Tehran….
The essence of what I have to say is this: I did not come to children’s literature on paved roads. I came to it along winding paths, and many were the times I lost my way. When I began writing the stories of Majid for radio, I did not intend or expect to find listeners among young people, but after a few of these stories had been broadcast, I heard here and there that children liked them. It was the children who found me, not the other way round. The children reunited me with my own childhood. In time I became comfortable at writing.’[42]
Moradi felt that the child within himself had awoken. Childhood experiences, hopes and expectations suddenly became useful and positive. Children wanted to meet him and to listen to what he had to say. They found in him a playmate, someone who shared their thoughts. He says that the older he gets, the nearer he feels to the world of children; perhaps because in his own childhood, he was never able to be a child; conditions did not permit it. He had to make a living and work the same as an adult.
Moradi’s work comes from the heart, reflecting what he feels to be his own simple and childlike mentality. His writing is based more on feeling than on reasoning or on the mastery of technique, things learned in writing classes, or read in guides for writers. He captures and conveys a feeling from within which has found its own structure and linguistic expression, ‘much like the structure and the language of folk songs, fairy tales and lullabies, which are rather rough, simple, sometimes even wrong.’ They capture the feeling and awaken memories of childhood and youth in the village and the traditional town, and this is why Moradi likes them so much. In his stories they often serve as the vehicles to express his feelings. They become the spice of his stories, authenticating them and freeing them from monotony. Using snatches of prose or poetry, adding a verse, a quotation, inserting a tale; these are methods which have been used for centuries in Persian literature.[43]
Concerning the use of language, Moradi says it requires words to capture both the sound and the soul of the story; a language which renews the novelty of the subject and which at the same time accurately transmits his mental images in their totality. He is opposed to the use of carefully tidied and controlled language in children’s books, saying that the prose normally used in children’s books is one which has ‘passed through many filters to become proper and clean, familiar, carefully in accordance with Persian grammar.’ Although he allows that this is no doubt good prose, tailored to a child’s perceived needs, he feels that it limits the activity of both writer and editor. It trains them to choose the most common words and not to look for the less frequently used ones, for fear that the child will not understand them. Writers are forced to present new subjects using the same turns of phrase, the same prose conventions, making each work similar to every other work, and all of them together like the work of the same person.
Moradi thought hard about this problem and finally decided that the way to overcome it was to write as people speak and not to be afraid of including uncommon words, as he describes:
‘I had to screw my courage up, but then I started to use the colloquial language. Whenever I came across a new word, either in writing or in conversation, I noted it down. Now, before writing a story, I go through my whole list and choose the words which have some relation to my subject. In this way, each of my stories contains a few less used or forgotten words. Freedom in the use of language helps me move through the hazardous paths of plot and story line by transforming the ordinary and the usual into something new and appealing.’[44]
Moradi says he finds it difficult to speak of one’s love of writing, dedication, of the constant pain of creation, without feeling self-aggrandizing in the process. He is thankful to God if he has been able to say something of worth, and especially if he has been able to bring a smile to the face of a child. [45]
©2002 netlangs@yahoo.com