Hello, I Shall Seduce you with My General Womanliness

Books are not particularly sexy. A person’s eyes can be seductive, depending on the person. And wearing a headscarf and a bulky full-length coat? In general, not very sexy at all.

According to the Saudi  Commitee for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice (also known as the morality police), women with attractive eyes might now be forced by law to cover them up. The ‘Virtue vs Vice

Even eyes are deemed too beautiful to be shown. Courtesy of allrashidmall.com

‘ committee (it appears that many Islamic countries have one of these) always makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time: cry, because they almost always are demeaning to women and the idea of such a committee is so against human rights; and laugh because, well, I cannot believe that these people are  permitted in the government when they clearly have issues.

Just when things seem to be looking ‘up’ for Saudi women (i.e. women were recently granted the right to vote in elections…in 2012) something as absurd as this happens to keep the freedom level in check. Hello, the barbaric men who go crazy at the sight of a woman’s eyes should be covered up (or, better yet, have their lusting hands handcuffed!), not the women. I’m guessing sunglasses might become a la mode if this ban takes place, but what I really want to know is:

Who’s going to be the Beauty Queen judges and decide what constitutes as a ‘seductive’ pair of eyes??

Next up on the banning block are books, or more specifically, Islamic Sex, a sort of “Sex manual” advocated by the Obedient Wives Club in Malaysia.  The Malaysian government wants to ban the book, which is odd when one considers that the book insists that wives be “subservient” and give in to their husbands  sexual needs.

Even still, the government ban on the book is not too surprising, given that sex is usually a touchy and private subject in Islam.   But the book is actually promoting a strict, stern way of thinking,and even though it’s line of thought is narrow-minded, it wouldn’t hurt the society to learn something about a topic that they often know little about.  What was most disturbing about this situation was the fact that the book was read by an organization called the Obedient Wives Club.

Who convinced these women to call themselves the ‘Obedient Wives Club’??

Scarves haven’t been banned in Iran, as they are part of the uniform women must wear when they leave the house, along with a manteau, or long coat. In Jafar Panahi’s 2000 film The Circle or Dawayeh (the same director of Offside)

A still of Nargess in her chador (from Dayereh). Courtesy of Iranian.com

follows several different women over the course of one day, highlighting the inequalities women face. Pari,a recently released convict, tries to enter a hospital to see an old friend. She is barred from entering unless she wears a chador, the traditional longblack cloack that Iranian women hold closed with their hands.  Never mind  that she already wears a scarf over her head and a long shapeless coat; apparently, that is deemed too sexy for any of the glum people visiting the hospital.

The women in The Circle  have officially been stripped of their physical sexiness, and society tries-as we see-to strip them of that other highly admirable quality: strength. A mother is stripped of her  child and pride when she decides to leave her daughter on the street. Nargess, another ex-convict, is stripped of her strength and power when she realizes she is too scared to board a bus for Azerbaijan. Physical or highly overt sexual objects-such as a woman’s hair, or a sex manual-are easily banned in Iran, but society just can’t resist desexualizing (and effectively dehumanizing) women further.

Towards the end of the film, we meet a woman moonlighting as a prostitute -her excuse? “Honey, will you pay the bills?”-who is caught when she enters a man’s car. Banned from the normal wiles that a prostitute would use to attract attention (heavy make-up; flashy, tight clothes) the woman is dressed like any other in Iran: in a head scarf and baggy attire. Yet her normal attire doesn’t stop a man from picking her up, nor does it stop the police from arresting her.  Even if she was wearing a burqa, the woman could still be picked up a prostitute. The scarf can’t be banned. So what’s next?

Are we going to star banning women? Because to a man, there isn’t a more sexual object than the mere presence of a woman, whether or not she  is baring her eyes, her skin, or is sexually knowledgeable!

S-L-M

Links:

1. “Saudi Women with Attractive Eyes Forced to Cover”: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2063143/Saudi-women-attractive-eyes-forced-cover-resolution-passed.html

2. “Malaysia to Ban ‘Obedient Wives Club’ Islamic Sex Book: http://bikyamasr.com/47242/malaysia-to-ban-obedient-wives-club-islamic-sex-book/

Struggling for Song in “No One Knows About Persian Cats”

The other night I watched the film No One Knows About Persian Cats, a 2010 Iranian film released by IFC which, like most foreign films, is completely unknown to American viewers and thus totally dishonored.  The film, which highlights actual Iranian bands as it follows the loosely-scripted real-life story of the band Take It Easy Hospital (composed of Ashkan Kooshanejad and Negar Shaghaghi) as they try to get a backing band for their group in order to play in London, UK. Filmed in a documentary-cum-music-video style, with great shots of a country seldom seen to the West and an interesting soundtrack, the film blends Western ideas with universal wants on an all-too-Middle-Eastern background which presents an overall captivating but agenda-less work.

Box art for No one Knows about Persian Cats. Courtesy of the IFC website.

To an American who lives in a world of free speech, where every teenager with half an ounce of vocal or musical talent believes that they’re the next pop star, “Persian Cats” stands in an astonishing contrast. Here we have bands that, because of their lyrical content or style, are not allowed a permit, which is the only way one can legally play (even practice!) music in Iran. This sounds like it would crush the dream of every 14 year-old Iranian who dreams of thumping rock metal or gyrating like Britney Spears, but as the film shows, artists without permits will go to great lengths to continue their craft, even when the stakes are high (at the begining of the film, Ashkan and Negar are released from prison after being caught preforming without a permit). The camera follows the actors (it feels almost wrong to call them actors, and yet here they are, reinacting their story; perhaps docu-drama fits better?) as they tunnel through room after room, down multiple sets of stairs and alleyways, ducking into basements and past doors covered in sheets or up into tiny attics. What’s with the maze? The musicians have to find the most removed, isolated studios for their clandestine craft-thus underlining literally the meaning of “underground artists.” In the USA, “underground artists” mean artists that simply aren’t well known. In Iran, it means being oppressed musically and being forced literally, underground. One group even resorts to playing on a rooftop shack they built, and wait until their neighbors exit the building to commence the drums.
With some of the bands, one can easily see why the Iranian government would refuse them a permit. One band (which goes so far as to practice in a cowshed when their neighbors force them out) plays heavy death metal with Persian lyrics and death stares. Another one (which we meet on a floor of a construction site overlooking Tehran) is a rap group speaking about the injustices of poverty in their country. But some of them don’t seem so bad: take, for instance, the group that Hamed Behdad (Ashkan and Negars “manager”) sings in: it has a Persian rhythm to it, and male Persian dancers preform a clearly traditional dance as he sings.

The injustice that these bands cannot legally preform-let alone practice- is only tempered by the realization that, next door in Afghanistan, music itself was forbidden under Taliban rule, a fate that seems unbelievable. Ashkan and Negars band itself is pretty tame: Take it Easy Hospital (despite it’s emo name) is full of slightly-off-tune indie pop, the sort that contains lyrics that don’t seem to match up. Perhaps the Iranian government disliked the band simply because it is composed of a guy and a girl, who are in fact a couple, although the movie never, ever seems to make light of this.
Indeed, Negars presence in this movie seems, well, I wouldn’t say shocking but it certainly seems unusual. We find (or she finds herself) constantly surrounded by men: whether it’s in one of the clandestine meeting practice studios or

An image of the bands playing in a clandestine basement. Courtesy of the NY Times.

meeting with Hamed or riding on the back of a scooter, she is usually  the only girl ever present. As such, the viewer almost forgets that she is a girl, because no one seems to notice this distinction or make note of it. She wears black hipster glasses that underline her seriousness (she is always the voice of reasoning and practicality, gently nudging the boys along and verbalizing her and Ashkan’s wants in her soft-but-not-girly voice) and baggy clothes; perhaps if she dressed more overtly girlish or sexy her presence would be more formidable. Omnipresent is a large olive-coloured backpack that she wears in most scenes, as if to prove that she is a woman, for she is the burden bearer.

Negar seems free from restraint: there is no older brother or parent demanding to know where she is, that she come home; money doesn’t seem to be an objection, nor is the fact that she wanders around Tehran alone (as she does in the opening scene, where she arrives at a “real” recording studio and talks in her lost-and-delirious way with one of the studio producers). She even appears to have her own car, as evidenced by the fact that we  see her driving the band around. When a policeman pulls her and Ashkan over, he does not berate her for being in a car alone with a man: instead, he takes her dog away from her.
Thus, the Tehran that we are introduced to seems uneasy, unsure, a little bit lost. While there is an agenda, a plot to the film–the band is trying to get to London–and we are introduced to the themes/ideas of people struggling to speak freely, the film doesn’t push these ideas in one’s face. This is not a typical presentation of a clashes between ideals, East vs. West, old vs. new, although these forces do come out. Negars is a prime example: she wears a headscarf, but it is casually wrapped around her head so that her light-brown hair is clearly visible, as though she is torn between wanting to respect tradition and religion but also represent herself. In wearing the scarf undone, it appears that she is unsure of herself. Nader likes to speak English, and one day overhears Negars critiquing him for this, which is somewhat odd when one considers that her band preforms entirely in English.

Uneasiness seems to reign: perhaps it’s OK to sing in English, because it’s commercial and goes with their indie style better, but to speak English amongst Iranians is perhaps pretentious. The bands make some comments about the Americans, yet their music is clearly Western: modern rap, of the variety that the rap group preforms, was born in the urban frontiers of the USA; screamo-rock bears the influence of grunge a la Nirvana and Take it Easy Hospital’s brand of indie pop wouldn’t be out of place at a hipster bar in Brooklyn.The bands dream West, where they can play their music in the open, all except the rap group, which smartly states that their music “is for here, Tehran.” Indeed: their words speak to the public, to the government; their words critique their, Iranian, society, and would be out of place in the Western world of freedom. As I watched the movie, I couldn’t help but wonder what is the point? What is the point of making music if you’ll never get to play it for an audience? To never have your cries of social freedom and justice heard?
The answer is both literal and figurative. Negar and Ashkan defy the government by planning a secret concert in an underground room, always with the help of Hamed, himself a good study in the struggle of East vs. West. Hamed, who parrots bootleg DVDs and likes to drink alcohol–what does he get out of helping Negars and Ashkan? What is the point for helping struggling musicians who might never get anywhere? It certainly seems like they’ll be going nowhere, when the old man forgering their passports gets arrested. Hamed, who’s hopes and dreams seemed to be escaping back to London with the band, seems to question the reality of their musical struggle and subsequently gets drunk. No one knows about Persian Cats, as the film’s title suggests: no one knows about these bands, but to the bands, this does not matter. They seem determined that one day, some how, their words will break free of their cages and prisons and inspire the people they were meant for.
“I’ve been here alone/I’ve been here with you/…it’s a jungle out there,” go the lyrics in Take it Easy Hospital’s song “Human Jungle,” easily their best song (and, in my opinion, the best song in the movie; it certainly replayed in my ears after I’d finished watching). Is she talking about the tricky, dangerous jungle of Tehran, where police hide behind every corner, waiting for a bit of music to play? Is she talking about the jungle that is the world beyond Tehran, the West where the band has their eyes focused on? She could be talking about either one: no one knows, but it’s a fitting bit of lyricism.

At  the end of the film, when Negar and Ashkan go to rescue Nader from a party, the police arrive: to escape capture, Ashkan jumps out the window; the last we see of him, he’s being rushed to the ER. The very last image of the movie shows Negar appearing to back flip off a roof. It is a very vague scene that asks a million questions. Is she really on a roof? Is she trying to emulate Ashkan’s seemingly suicidal jump? If this was an American movie, the film would have ended with the band playing their planned concert triumphantly, basking in the glow of an audience. It would have ended on a note of hope and victory. Negars jump does not seem to be very hopeful: it seems like she has given up. Or has she? Perhaps she is escaping her cage.  No one knows.

S-L-M

An Eternal Mansion, Veiled Women and a Submissive Moon: The Koran

A mosque in Cairo; at night, it was beautifully lit up! Taken by myself

Beauty can be found even in the most unpleasant or unassuming of places. Even those things that are horrid, or evil, or disturbing, can contain a strange and austere beauty.

While I certainly wouldn’t describe the Koran as evil or horrid, I am sometimes distraught by some of it’s passages, although I recognize that everything on this Earth has a ying and yang to it. Once again, I have found passages in the book that are discomforting. But overall, I admit that the Koran is beautiful. There is a lot of wisdom in this book, and some of the passages are so poetic, that I wonder what it must be like to read the book in it’s original Arabic.

Among some of the beauty that I have found were the following quotes (might I add that I am particularly fond of the many mentions of the moon, although I have yet come to a passage that explains why the moon is so important in Islam that they have placed it upon the tops of the mosque’s minarets).

“He has pressed the sun and the moon in to His service, each running for an appointed term.” (32:23)

“We offered Our trust to the heavens, to the Earth, and to the mountains, but they refused the burden and were afraid to receive it.” (33:72)

“”The night is another sign for men. From the night We lift the day–and they are plunged into darkness.   The sun hastens to its resting-place: it’s course is laid for it by the Might One, the All-Knowing. We have ordained phases for the moon, which daily wanes and in the end appars like a bent old twig. The sun is not allowed to overtake the moon, nor does the night outpace the day. Each in its own orbit swims.” (36:37)

“Where they shall be decked with bracelets of gold and pearls, and arrayed in robes of silk….Through his Grace he has admitted us to the Eternal Mansion, where we shall endure no toil, no weariness.” (35:28)

This quote is particularly moving for someone like me, who lives by the pen:

“If all the trees of the Earth were pens, and the sea replenished by seven more seas, were ink, the words of God could not be finished still. Mighty is God, and wise.” (31:23)

However, like all beautiful things, there is an ugly side to the Koran, such as the fact that homosexuality is frowned upon in Islam:

“Will you fornicate with males and eschew the wives whom god has created for you? Surely you are great transgressors.” (26:166)

I have heard that homosexuality is not tolerated in Islam, and this seems to prove where the feeling comes from, although it does not state why homosexuality should be a transgression. It also seems to point out that women were created solely for the pleasure and needs of men. There was a lot of talk about women in the surahs I read this time, such as this phrase concerning the angels:

“Would He choose daughters rather than sons? What has come over you that you judge so ill?” (37:149)

This question almost made me laugh, to be quite honest. Are people that crazy to want daughters? Did anybody say that angels were only women? After all, there are many male angels: Gabriel, the angel who spoke to the Prophet himself, was a male! The continued distaste for women continued in many more passages:

“Enjoin believing men to turn their eyes away from temptation and to restrain their carnal knowledge…..Enjoin believing women to turn their eyes away from temptation and to preserve their chastity; not display their adornments (except such as are naturally revieled) to draw their veils over their bosoms and not to displau their finery except to their husbands, their fathers, their husbands fathers….and children who have no carnal knowlrdge of women.” (24:30)

It seems as though one could equate sex with the devil, if the Koran (and the Bible too) are any indication. Is sex the most feared thing in Islam? Sometimes I believe it to be true; if so, then women are a close second. Women seem to be the source of sex and sin, just as Eve became a symbolism of sinning in the Bible. It is not man who is told to veil himself, to hide in his house and be chaste, it is woman. Yet, at the same time, I feel that this points out that perhaps women are not the source of sin, but men. It is man who cannot be trusted; man who has a dirty, carnal mind, man who sees in woman her beauty and the source of his desire and cannot control himself.

It appears that today’s fanatical Muslim man (and even the non-fanatics at times) seem to take the Koran’s words literally. Certainly the Taliban when it took power in Afghanistan took the following passage as meaning it to apply to all women, not just the prophet’s wives, as they believed that women should not be seen or heard:

“Wives of the Prophet, you are not like other women. If you fear God, do not be too complaisant in your speech, lest the lecherous hearted should lust after you. Show discretion in what you say. Stay in your homes and do not display your finery as women used to do in the days of ignorance. Attend to your prayers,give alms and obey God and his Apostle. Women of the household, God seeks only to remove uncleanness from you and to purify you.”(32:29)

Woman bear the brunt. Women, despite what the Koran says, do have to bear another’s burden. They bear man’s.

S-L-M