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

This week’s portion: The Legend of Seyavash (third of three parts, this part starting on page 259 and going until the end of the section)

Synopsis: Garsivas turns Afrasyab against Seyavash, who is murdered. His son by Farigis is born.

TG: This was terrible. I’m so upset I can’t make paragraphs.

1) Seyavash doesn’t even get to die in battle! Instead he’s captured and his throat is cut like he’s an animal. D: D: D:

2) Garsivas just… gets away with it? WTF I am very angry about that. I skimmed ahead and I don’t see any retribution coming for him. VERY distressing. He just turned everybody against each other, for jealousy and bitterness, and he doesn’t even get to find out Seyavash is his grandkid, and tear out his hair???

3) I take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about Afrasyab. He’s way too easily manipulated.

4) I’m less sure about the timing of all this… since right after this Kay Khosrow becomes king, either we were wrong about the timing of the incident with Sohrab, or it happens while Khosrow is growing up in secret with the shepherds?

5) I loved it when Farigis calls Seyavash “my lion lord.”

6) It was interesting that Seyavash could give such a specific prophecy to Farigis about her future and his son, down to how they would escape Turan, but all his own personal prophecies were so much more generic. I wonder if there are rules to that (I’m constantly in search of magical rules, and the Shahnameh doesn’t have many).

7) I love that in Seyavash’s absence Seyavashgerd became a wilderness of thorns.

8) Someday I might start a novel “On a dark, moonless night, when birds and beasts were sleeping, the lord Piran saw in a dream a candle lit from the sun. Seyavash stood by the candle, a sword in his hand, crying out in a loud voice, ‘This is no time for rest; rise from sleep, learn how the world moves onward; a new day dawns and new customs come; tonight is the birth of Kay Khosrow.'”

It is just so inspiring and beautiful– or possibly I just already miss Seyavash so much I was thrilled for another appearance.

KE: I’m in total agreement. The death of Seyavash is by miles the most dispiriting event in the Shahnameh so far. Obviously the degrading manner of his death is on purpose, including the one person who speaks out against it and isn’t listened to. It’s not just degrading to Seyavash; it dishonors those who kill him like this, and it is clear they are considered beyond the pale (at least by the author).

I also skimmed ahead to see if Garsivaz gets his comeuppance and yet, despite everything, he apparently does not (maybe he is a footnote in the coming fall of Afrasyab). Shades of Iago, though: People resist his nasty insinuations at first and then fall for them, perhaps out of his sheer persistence. This is one of the most depressing forms of story: the envious courtier who destroys the people he is envious of, sowing destruction and bitterness wherever he goes. I had hoped Seyavash would see through him as he saw through Sudabeh, but it does seem a combination of getting worn down (and not suspecting G’s duplicity) and then his own prophetic powers.

It was also interesting to see the contrast between his friendship with Piran and that with Garsivaz. Seyavash treats the two men more or less the same but one always feels that Piran is the more genuine.

I love Faragis in this. Her obvious love for him (I also adored “my lion lord”) and how she pleads for his life. As with most of the women we have seen so far, she is well educated, well spoken, intelligent, and unafraid to speak her mind (at least at dramatic points in the story). She does not cower.

Also I would have loved to know more about Piran’s wife, briefly mentioned BY NAME (we still don’t know the name of Seyavash’s mother), Golshahr. One of the interesting things for me about the Shahnameh is, as I’ve said before, the sense within the text that this merely scratches the surface of a much larger cycle of tales. How fortunate we are that Ferdowsi lived and wrote when he did because if he had not, much of this would have been lost as the great Persian culture was partially subsumed by Islam/Arab culture (although obviously Persia has always retained its own identity as one of the great, noble civilizations of the world).

After finishing (and crying) I re-read the part of the introduction where the translator talks about what parts he chose to leave out. I couldn’t help but notice the italicized synopsis at the end in which it is mentioned in a sentence that Kavus had Sudabeh executed! The events referred to in that synopsis seemed so important to me, but perhaps they weren’t as interesting to read? I don’t know. This is one of several fundamental issues with translation: it is always a form of gatekeeping in which the translator (or abridger) makes choices and we are then left reading a version that may seem to us as the complete one when in fact it is incompletely. I don’t fault Davis, who has done a wonderful job. Just noting how often people and events are left out as “insignificant” or “unimportant” when that is always a judgment call by a subjective scholar or translator.

As for the issue of chronology, now I am wondering if there is any scholarship on that.

And, yes, please do someday start a story with that paragraph.

*weeps*

#

Next week: Forud, The Son of Seyavash

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, The Tale of Sohrab, The Legend of Seyavash Pt. 1, The Legend of Seyavash Pt. 2

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 Legend of Seyavash (second of three parts, this part starting on page 237 and ending on page 259)

Synopsis: Seyavash moves to Turkestan to escape Kavas’s terrible decisions, making a home there and marrying into Afrasyab’s family.

I suspect this scene of Seyavash facing Afrasyab across the Jihun River is for next week but it’s such a great image I used it this week.

TG: I am full of dread.

This middle section is basically Seyavash being awesome, while Afrasyab tries to be better than it’s in his nature to be (and constantly worrying that Seyavash will turn around and bite him someday), and Seyavash himself makes dire predictions about his destiny.

I’m so done with Kavus. Obviously. The nicest thing I can say about him is “at least he’s consistent in his terribleness.” It’s nuts that he makes Rostam look wise and level-headed. (And actually, with them side by side I suspect Rostam is supposed to be wise, generally good, but with the kind of temper that leads to being a total bad-ass on the battlefield, while Kavus is just temperamental and childish. Most of our looks at Rostam have been involving war and Kavus, the two things guaranteed to piss Rostam right off. The only other time I’ve sympathized with him was when he mourned so heavily for Sohrab.)

And speaking of Sohrab, I wonder if these stories are out of chronological order (assuming we’re right about that) because Sohrab is the ultimate doomsday version of father-son relationship, and Seyavash is forced into several father-son relationships here, and one (or all) of them is bound to go very wrong very soon. Kavus is his actual father, Piram and Afrasyab both sort of adopt him and take on a fatherly role, and of course we know but, like Rostam and Sohrab, neither Seyavash nor Garsivas knows that Garsivas is Seyavash’s actual grandfather or grand-uncle or something (and I suspect the downfall is going to start with Garsivas and jealousy).

Having the tale of Sohrab right before this one creates more tension for me than I might otherwise have had because of all the father-son talk. My dread just builds and builds because I both know how likely a terrible ending is, but also hope more strongly for a happier ending than Sohrab and Rostam got.

It is fascinating to me that Seyavash has personal knowledge of his impending doom! And he accepts it, even walking toward it. He doesn’t take Bahram and Zangeh’s advice because “the heavens secretly willed another fate for him.” At first I wondered if it was something he was aware of, or a coy narrator’s insertion. But later when the astrologers tell him not to build his city in Khotan, Seyavash basically has a breakdown about what he knows but cannot reveal, confessing to Piran that he’s not long for this world, but must accept his fate and enjoy life while he can. It’s obvious by then that Seyavash DOES hear God’s will or something like it, and accepts it even though it means his doom. It made me think of Gethsemane, and the tragic themes that come with a character knowing their terrible fate, but choosing to face it because of faith or love.

I wonder if the knowledge of destiny is related to his farr, and also if he’s taking warnings from God as inexorable destiny, instead of warnings for things to avoid! Maybe he got a little bad judgement from his father….

An illustration of playing polo, with five men on horseback (one a sixth rider partially obscured), with polo sticks.

KE: I too am in dread. Seyavash is clearly doomed, and I too am puzzled by his acceptance of his early death. I enjoyed the depictions of friendship between men, especially Piran and Seyavash, and the sense that he and Faragis have a reasonable marriage of mutual respect. This is the behavior I expect from the noble born if they are going to claim that their noble born ways are somehow superior, and yet they so rarely act this way!

After all this time putting up with Kavus just because he is king and descended from the right people, we get a person with actual farr, someone who acts for peace rather than war, and — naturally — he is not long for this world and destiny rolls against him.

I read Garsivas as his grandfather (or his great-grandfather? depending on if he is his mother’s grandfather or father). And yes, things aren’t looking good. The sense of impending disaster looms large.

And honestly: could Seyavash be any better of a YA hero? He’s practically perfect except for his passive acceptance of destiny, and even that is depicted as an aspect of his preternatural maturity and intelligence.

On to part three, which will doubtless break our hearts.

Next week: The final part of The Legend of Seyavash (page 259 to the end of the section)

*sob*

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, The Tale of Sohrab, The Legend of Seyavash Pt. 1

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 Legend of Seyavash (first of three parts, this part one ending on page 237)

Synopsis: Kavas’s wife Sudabeh plots against Kavas’s son Seyavash because Seyavash refuses her advances. After being proved innocent, Seyavash leads the Persian army against Afrasyab, but a dream convinces the Turkish king to sue for peace.

Seyavash’s trial by fire is a popular subject for illustration

KE:  Wow. This is a complex and fascinating story, possibly my favorite thing so far. It seems to be told out of chronology; that is, I would suggest it is set before or during Sohrab’s childhood, because so far it never refers to the incident of Rostam killing Sohrab even though Rostam essentially acts as Seyavash’s foster father. I am assuming that fostering out a son in this way, even a royal prince, was a fairly common occurrence and thus would not have to be explained to the audience.

The other thing that makes me believe this story is out of sequence is Sudabeh’s apparent age. The Turkish girl could easily have come to Kavus’s attention before his marriage to Sudabeh. The opening sequence, in which Sudabeh falls in love (in lust) with Seyavash, seems to take place not too long after Kavus and Sudabeh have married. That they have young children is referenced, and she pretends to be pregnant at one point. So I would assume this takes place not more than 10 or so years after the marriage of Kavus and Sudabeh. Since she could have been anywhere from 14 – 20 (rough estimate) at the age of marriage, she could certainly be under 30, so it isn’t all that far-fetched for her to still be young and beautiful (by our standards) and thus likely to fall for the teenaged (and precociously mature) Seyavash.

This is the most interesting character study so far. First of all, Seyavash is no fool, despite his youth. He is described as having all the skills and virtues required of princes, and at the same time he is clearly a thoughtful, intelligent youth. He is cautious; he understands the danger he is in; he thinks things through rather than acting or speaking impulsively. This story is, so far, not kind to women: Sudabeh has no particular motive. She seems simply to have fallen for the young man in a clearly inappropriate sexual way and is determined to seduce him or destroy him. Seyavah’s Turkish mother is never named, the way the men see her as an object they can claim is rather unpleasant, and after she gives birth and Seyavash enters the story she has been (so far) not referenced again at all. She is apparently not present in the Kavus’s women’s quarters. Why? What happened to her? Seyavash’s sisters are referenced, although not by name, and they at least seem to be polite, kindly girls that he doesn’t mind hanging out with.

But what interests me most is the detailed characterization of Kavus, as his emotions drag him in one direction and then back again. So far (again, we’re only a third of the way in) he originally does not misunderstand what is going on, although from prior knowledge of him we might expect him to immediately show bad judgement. He sees what Sudabeh is up to, and yet he does care for her. I loved the brief mention of how, when he was a prisoner of Hamaveran, she “ministered to him day and night.” There’s an emotional verisimilitude to the reference that “the memory tormented him” that makes it more understandable he would keep gravitating back to her even though she has by now been revealed to have an “evil nature.” And of course his love for her begins to erode his better judgement about the clearly superior Seyavash, not that he ever really had good judgement.

I note that, once again, Kavus’s courtiers have no problem insulting him in private as when Rostam says (to Seyavash), “Kavus is as he always was.” One really need say no more.

I was glad to see that Zal is still alive (although again this tale may occur before Sohrab), and I note a second reference to Rostam’s brother Zavareh, so I am happy that Zal and Rudabeh had a second child who lives close by them (assuming Zavareh is Rostam’s full brother).

Afrasyab is back with an ill-omened dream and a lot of anxiety. Seyavash is negotiating with his own grandfather with apparently no knowledge that Garsivaz IS his grandfather. And I can hardly wait to find out what happens next since I am pretty sure it is building up to be a disaster of epic proportions.

Seyavash and the trial by fire, another version, with spectators and Sudabeh watching from a window

TE:   This is so complex! The most incredible thing for was that that for about three paragraphs I almost liked Kavus. I was disappointed by the prominent placement of what amounts to a false rape accusation, but Kavas’s response to the conflict between his wife and son engaged me with one of my least favorite plot devises Of All Time. Who knew this usually tempermental and frankly stupid king had it in him to measure his emotions, memories, and thoughts so well and come up with a (relatively) balanced solution. This is the guy who eventually builds a flying car to reach the sun! Being nuanced and practical!

I was fascinated by the fire trial. It’s a familiar sort of magical trial, and on one hand I loved that the actual villain/witch in this situation survived by her wiles, and the innocent party bravely pressed on through the fire. It makes me want to write a fire trial someday, and I think this is the first time I’ve been directly, specifically inspired, instead of generally interested in and inspired, by the Shahnehmah.

I, too, am delighted Zal is still alive, and also that Sudabeh accused Seyavash of using Zal’s magic to survive the fire. I hope that Zal DID teach Seyavash some magic, since he’s probably better suited for it than Rostam (obviously I DO mean that as a dig at Rostam. His horse would be better at magic than him). Before Zal made his appearance I had already thought to myself what a relief it is to genuinely like Seyavash after so long kinda hating the Rostam/Kavus duo. I thought “I like him almost as much as I like Zal” so it’s rewarding to have the story compare them, too.

Speaking of characters making reappearances: we all know I love Afrasyab, but I’m not too keen on his dream anxiety. I like him being a bad-ass, hot-tempered, “All the World Belongs To Me” king. I suspect he’ll rally and do something terrible to Seyavash, since Afrasyab survives this and I don’t think Seyavash does. I just hope he doesn’t fall prey to Sudabeh’s evil scheming. OR if they do, they become a proper Murder Couple.

The one meta thing that struck me about Seyavash is the lack of talk about farr. He surely has it–if Kay Kavus has it, and loses it, and has it again, and loses it again, ad nauseam, surely Seyavash does, too. And thinking about it, I wonder if the lack of farr talk is because we’re getting farther and farther away from those first kings, who were “purer” with the farr, or at least their relationship with it. If there was a lot of overt talk about Seyavash and farr, it would point out how explicitly bad Kavus is at behaving as though he is the one true king of Persia. And everybody KNOWS it.

Next week: The Legend of Seyavash (part two of three, pages 237 – 259)

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, The Tale of Sohrab