Join Tessa Gratton and me as we read the Shahnameh by Abolqasem Ferdowsi. We’re using the Dick Davis translation (Penguin Classics).

Today’s portion: The Tale of Sohrab

Synopsis: Rostam has a son with a Turkish princess, who grows to be as strong a warrior as him. They meet on the battlefield not knowing each other, and Rostam kills Sohrab. 

Gordafarid faces Sohrab. I will never get tired of this.

TG: My lack of sympathy for Rostam and Kay Kavus impeded my ability to feel the tragedy of this section. (At least everyone else in the story agrees with me that Kavus is an idiot who never makes good choices. It amuses me how often his allies openly call him names, just never to his face!)

I usually enjoy this sort of tragic set up, as I’m very interested in how character flaws create tragedy. For Sohrab, I felt it very keenly: he’s arrogant and ambitious as his father, and too young to know better, but at the heart of his motivations he really just wants to meet his father and make his father king, not himself. But Rostam’s flaws weren’t what created his tragedy here, it was a sudden, uncharacteristic refusal to acknowledge his name. Never before has Rostam avoided declaring his name and ancestry, so it was out of left field when he flat-out lied to Sohrab about being himself. If he’d admitted his name, Sohrab would have flung his arms around his father and none of the tragedy would’ve occurred. This is the first time I feel let down by the storytelling itself, because this was a case of inexplicable miscommunication that required Rostam acting totally out of character to achieve.

Once again, I enjoyed Afrasyab’s role here. When he heard about Sohrab and Sohrab’s ambitions I love that he just laughed. And then encouraged chaos.

I’m very glad to move away from Rostam for a while in the next section, though I suspect it will be full of Kavus being stupid.

KE:  I have a lot of rambling thoughts about this section.

First, my understanding is that this is considered the central tragic tale of the Shahnameh. Like you, I struggled with Rostam — in fact I have always struggled with Rostam, who is the great hero of the piece and who I find deeply unsympathetic and pretty much a self centered jerk. I keep contrasting him to his father, Zal-Dastan, and while Zal is clearly a prince with all the privilege and pride that goes with that status, he at least seems to have more of a sense of responsibility and community in the sense of having long-standing relationships with others while Rostam seems to mostly function alone. Zal has a wife, while Rostam has a one night tryst with a woman WHO SNEAKS IN TO SEDUCE HIM (otherwise he evidently can’t be bothered?). He receives communication from Tahmineh about their son but otherwise evidently can’t be bothered to write to him, send for him, or go see him, much less have any sort of relationship with her (maybe because she is a Turk?). He really seems to live only for himself and his status as a hero. And, yes, he treats his horse badly. Mediocre!

So, just as you said, Rostam’s inexplicable refusal to admit to who he is did not make sense to me in context. It did feel as if it was pushing a tragic flaw for the sake of the story.

What DID touch me about Sohrab’s death was that Sohrab did suspect that Rostam was indeed Rostam, and thus his father. He is deliberately misled by Hejir, and yet still trusts his instinct that Rostam means something to him. He gives Rostam multiple chances to admit it; he TRIES to reconcile, to connect, and Rostam rejects him. And Sohrab even throws it in his face in the end– that if he had only said his name, none of it would have happened.

And on top of that it turns out that Kavus COULD HAVE saved Sohrab’s life with his magic potion but refused. Such a jerk. A completely useless selfish jerk of a jerk. And yet (I read ahead to the first part of the next sequence) the ladies are all over him. What is up with that? I admit that I too enjoyed all his lords talking smack about him behind his back. He has certainly earned it.

The final tragic blow of course is Rostam riding himself to beg the potion from the king only to have Sohrab die, alone, while Rostam is gone. Poor kid.

However in this sequence there were two very interesting bits with ladies.

First, Tahmineh. Again, we see young women living in relative seclusion, and yet making for themselves sexual choices and not being chastised or punished for it. Perhaps this is because heroes are always acceptable lovers. I don’t know. But she sneaks in, she has sex with him, she gives birth nine months later, and not a peep about virginity or honor or any of that. The child is raised as a prince, not as a bastard. This fascinates me, especially given how often people claim that in the past women’s sexuality was completely locked down and it is only now in the modern world that women have their first taste of sexual freedom. Again and again the Shahnameh puts the lie to that old canard.

Second, Gordafarid! How great is she? I wish I knew if there is an entire set of tales about her, or where she comes from, or how she fits into the legendary cycle. Because she was awesome: she’s a skilled warrior AND she outwits young Sohrab. She made me very happy although there’s no further mention of her, alas.

Another image of Gordafarid:

Next week: The Legend of Seyavash (we are reading this in three parts because it is so long)(the first part starts on page 215 and goes to the bottom of page 237 — the second part will start with the section ‘Seyavash Writes a Letter of Kavus’)

Looks like Sudabeh takes an unpleasant turn, and Afrasayb is back.

Previously: Introduction, The First Kings, The Demon King Zahhak, Feraydun and His Three Sons, The Story of Iraj, The Vengeance of Manuchehr, Sam & The Simorgh, The Tale of Zal and Rudabeh, Rostam, the Son of Zal-Dastan, The Beginning of the War Between Iran and Turan, Rostam and His Horse Rakhsh, Rostam and Kay Qobad, Kay Kavus’s War Against the Demons of Manzanderan, The Seven Trials of Rostam, The King of Hamaveran and His Daughter Sudabeh

Join Tessa Gratton and me as we read the Shahnameh by Abolqasem Ferdowsi. We’re using the Dick Davis translation (Penguin Classics).

SORRY FOR THE DELAY. This was supposed to be up last week (May 13) but my laptop broke while I was traveling so I was unable to post. It’s all fixed now!

Today’s portion: The King of Hamaveran and His Daughter Sudabeh

Synopsis: “In which King Kavus gets married, is captured (again) because of his own lack of wisdom, Rostam recues him (again), Afrasyab makes a surprise guest appearance.”

Sudabeh, Kavus’s bride:

TG: I was fascinated here by the descriptions of the queen Sudabeh. “Her tongue is like a dagger lodged between/ Lips sweet as sugar cane” would not be a loving compliment in most of Western literary history! She’s got her own personal wealth, thinks for herself, and clearly understands the ways of politics and war. Her father did not want to give her up, but asked her opinion, then listened to it. She’s definitely more wise than Kavus, especially when she says “Since we have no choice, it is better not to grieve at this.”

Of course, Kavus proves true to form when he flat out refuses to believe his lovely, smart wife, and against her recommendation walks into the trap her father has sent.

I was pretty excited to see the return of Afrasyab, since I continue to enjoy how this book weaves storylines together and returns to old threads I’ve forgotten or dismissed as over. Of course Afrasyab presses this opportunity, and rightly so: let’s be honest. Kavus is the worst king we’ve seen who wasn’t possessed by shoulder-snakes.

I loved the logic Afrasyab used against Kavus: “If Iran is your country as you claim, why did you long to conquer Mazanderan?” And he brings up his own ancestry via Feraydun as proof of his right to Iran.

But of course, Rostam, the horse-abuser, is on Kavus’s side, so Kavus wins despite being so easily manipulated by demons, arrogance, and lies. I can’t wait for him to die, and hope his heir gets everything from Sudabeh, not Kavus.

Although, these several chapters of Kavus being aggravating were entirely worth it for the flying machine he builds at the end of this section. I mean. I love it so much.

KE:  The continuing emphasis on women controlling their own wealth fascinates me. As I have said before and will doubtless say again, I am reminded of how stereotypes harm people’s ability to grasp the exceptional variety and complexity of history and in particular how erroneous a conception many people have (in the USA, anyway) of the lives of women in the past and in non-Western cultures. Here, even in a history that mostly sidelines women (with a few notable exceptions), the writer has more than once used this detail as a descriptor of a female character. Why it is a detail that matters I do not know–is it a reflection of her rank? something else? What I do know is that I lack the knowledge of the cultural context so all I can do is observe and keep an open mind. And, of course, be delighted to find it here once again, especially conjoined with a reference to Sudabeh’s apparent willingness to speak her mind and not hold back. Not to mention to defy her father’s wishes, although her motives are never explored. Kavus is clearly a fortunate man.

I almost miss Zahhak and his shoulder snakes. At least he had a goal rather than stumbling repeatedly back into the good graces of the world after one grandiose and short sighted mistake after the next. I find Kavus a fascinating character study, in a way, precisely because he seems to me to be have the privilege to be continually forgiven his egregious mistakes that cause unquantifiable death and destruction.

And what a target he is for demons! The flying machine is pretty wonderful, not least the predictable results of his hubris (or Persian equivalent). What Rudabeh sees in him I have no idea, but the story that lies between the lines feels like fanfiction just waiting to be written, and perhaps there is a story telling tradition that includes more about her. I honestly do not know.

Next week: The Tale of Sohrab.

The fear this one will be very very sad.

Previously: Introduction, The First Kings, The Demon King Zahhak, Feraydun and His Three Sons, The Story of Iraj, The Vengeance of Manuchehr, Sam & The Simorgh, The Tale of Zal and Rudabeh, Rostam, the Son of Zal-Dastan, The Beginning of the War Between Iran and Turan, Rostam and His Horse Rakhsh, Rostam and Kay Qobad, Kay Kavus’s War Against the Demons of Manzanderan, The Seven Trials of Rostam

Join Tessa Gratton and me as we read the Shahnameh by Abolqasem Ferdowsi. We’re using the Dick Davis translation (Penguin Classics).

Today’s portion: The Seven Trials of Rostam

Synopsis: “Rostam faces a variety of challenges on his way to rescue King Kavus, several of which his horse saves him from, receiving no thanks or praise for his efforts. The White Demon is killed, Kavus rescued, and Mezandarin conquered.”

TG: Kate warned me that in this section Rostam is kind of a dick, so I was prepared for arrogance and a certain level of dickishness, but must admit I was shocked that he was mean to his horse. It’s like kicking a dog, and basically, I’m out. It would’ve taken a lot for me to forgive him for that (and for starters, he should have apologized profusely or acknowledged that his horse was actually the smarter, more worthy of the pair). Instead, he continues to be arrogant and pig-headed and just leaps to conclusions, running around ripping off people’s ears (even if they are the servants of sorcerers that seems pretty extreme). Not to mention that song he writes about himself.

This section was pretty rough going for me because of a lack of emotional investment. Kavus brought this on himself and as yet I’ve been given no reason to care what happens to him, and Rostam is a dick. (I felt more sympathy for the king of demons, because at least he “grieved for Arzhang and the White Demon.” The entire episode devolves into a long whose got bigger balls battle in which everyone is a savage leopard, massive elephant, or ferocious lion, or all three, or one then the other, and it got a bit tiring. At least Rostam was briefly afraid of the White Demon, and I almost liked him for a second when he admitted that if he survived this battle he’d probably live forever. I’m not sure it’s supposed to be funny, but it felt like combating fear with humor.

I did enjoy the vivid descriptions thought, like the death of the White Demon and that the “learned doctor” suggested White Demon brains could cure Kavus’s blindness.

By far, the most vivid image for me was near the beginning when Rostam is so thirsty “the flesh of his tongue was split open.” SO graphic and visual I could feel it myself.

KE: Yeah. The horse. After an entire episode devoted to the finding and choosing of Rakhsh, and all of the horse’s superb qualities, and then Rakhsh SAVES the hero and gets abused for it, I was taken aback. I wondered: How am I supposed to see Rostam as a shining hero when he abuses his OWN HORSE? Zal would never have acted this way!

Like Tessa I could not help but feel some sympathy for the demons. That Ferdowsi bothers to mention their emotions and grief interests me; he could have simply written them as ravening savages, but he did not. And that leads me into more ruminations.

Are we meant to be critical of Rostam? Can he do no wrong and therefore any and all of his actions are right because he is fighting for what the story has already positioned as righteous (the king with farr)? How does this compare to Kavus, who engages in an endless series of actions in which he screws up, is forgiven simply because he is king, screws up again, and is yet again allowed to repent and then be the perfect leader over a world in harmony?

I have a lot of questions about this. I haven’t read any discussion of the Shahnameh but it must be extant. I must suppose that in a culture as literate and with as strong a sense of cultural history as Persia/Iran, there will be reams of references, reflections, and commentary. The idea of a righteous man righting for an unrighteous king because that is the order of the day is clearly a large part of the conflict here, and while I always saw Zal as playing the part of a righteous lord submissive to the king who maybe isn’t quite worthy of him, this episode made me doubt Rostam. Yet I must always be aware that I am bringing my own USAian expectations into the mix. When we have finished this readalong I am going to seek out more reading on this, and specifically (if I can find it in translation) Persian voices discussing their great national epic.

To close: the noble Rakhsh. We love you.

Next week: The King of Hamaveran and His Daughter Sudabeh

Previously: Introduction, The First Kings, The Demon King Zahhak, Feraydun and His Three Sons, The Story of Iraj, The Vengeance of Manuchehr, Sam & The Simorgh, The Tale of Zal and Rudabeh, Rostam, the Son of Zal-Dastan, The Beginning of the War Between Iran and Turan, Rostam and His Horse Rakhsh, Rostam and Kay Qobad, Kay Kavus’s War Against the Demons of Manzanderan