Diese literaturwissenschaftliche Arbeit analysiert den 2023 erschienenen Roman Dancing Amid Fire, Rising Above Ruins der iranisch-kurdischen Autorin Essmat Sophie, der die Lebensrealitäten kurdischer Menschen im Iran und in der europäischen Diaspora aus unterschiedlichen Perspektiven darstellt. Dabei werden individuelle Erfahrungen mit Erinnerungen an die Vergangenheit verknüpft. Zunächst wird die Auswahl der analysierten Textstellen erläutert, gefolgt von einem theoretischen Teil zur Konstruktion kollektiver und nationaler Identitäten (De Cillia et al. 153-154; Mahmod 39-40; David and Bar-Tal 354-355), sowie deren Anwendung auf die kurdische Identität. Dabei wird deutlich, dass Gemeinsamkeiten häufig über kurdischen Nationalismus definiert werden (Tunc 57), zugleich aber auch Faktoren wie politische Verfolgung, Diskriminierung und Gewalt das kurdische Selbstverständnis prägen (A. Jabar and Mansour, 24-25, 93-94, 186).
Ein besonderer Fokus liegt auf der Rolle kurdischer Literatur, die sich mit Leid, Verfolgung, Politik und Widerstand auseinandersetzt (Ahmadzadeh, In Search of a Kurdish Novel 579-585), sowie auf feministischen Widerstandsbewegungen in Kurdistan und der Diaspora (Perrin, C. & Perrin, J. in Satrapi 26-29; Toerkell; Radpey). Ergänzt werden diese durch die Themen Gemeinschaft und Erinnerung, um dem diasporischen Kontext gerecht zu werden. Hierbei wird deutlich wie divers Kurdische Erfahrungen sind und das eine einheitliche Einordnung dieser in eindimensionale Rahmen schwierig ist. Der zweite theoretische Abschnitt behandelt das Konzept des „Cultural Memory“ (Assmann, A. in Erll et al. 97-99) und die Rolle von Literatur innerhalb dieses Rahmens (Lachmann in Erll et al. 301, 309). Zudem wird die Bedeutung dieses Konzepts im kurdischen Kontext beleuchtet und mit kultureller Praxis verknüpft (Cockrell-Abdullah 109; Göral in Üngör and Işık 106-112).
In der Analyse werde vier verschiedene Ausschnitte des Romans anhand dieser Themen beleuchtet und Feinheiten ausgearbeitet. Dabei wird deutlich, dass Sophie in ihrem Roman verschiedenen kurdischen Perspektiven Raum gibt und patriarchale Strukturen hinterfragt. Des Weiteren werden die häufig in kurdischer Literatur vorkommenden Themen mit denen der Diaspora verbunden und ein Augenmerk auf Cultural Memory sowie kulturelle Praxis gelegt. Hierdurch kann eine Verbindung zwischen Kurden in Kurdistan und solchen in Europa geschaffen werden die nicht nur auf einem nationalistischen Gedanken beruht, sondern sich im Gegenteil bewusst auf andere Themen fokussiert und welcher dadurch eine breite Repräsentation verschiedener Perspektiven gelingt. Somit wird in der Literaturanalyse deutlich, dass Sophies Werk einen vielschichtigen Raum schafft, in dem kurdische Identität jenseits nationalistischer Zuschreibungen neu verhandelt wird.
This thesis will examine the use of memory and the identity building in the novel Dancing Amid Fire, Rising above Ruins by Essmat Sophie, published in 2023, against the background of the Kurdish diaspora in Europe. The paper aims to show how the novel functions as a connector between Kurds in the diaspora and those in the homeland by foregrounding the multiplicity of Kurdish perspectives and experiences and challenging monolithic understandings of Kurdish identity. In order to do so, the dialogical nature of identity building and cultural memory is examined, and common narratives of collective identity building through nationalistic tendencies are challenged. Through close reading and analysis, the paper explores how Sophie portrays themes like community, memory, persecution and resistance as well as the intersectional marginalization of Kurdish women. The results show that Sophie does not rely on nationalist sentiment to build her diverse cast of characters and refutes one-dimensional representation, intersecting individual narratives with broader political realities, illustrating how diasporic literature can preserve cultural continuity while embracing diversity and change.
Key words: Identity, Cultural Memory, Kurdish Literature, Diasporic Literature, Dancing Amid Fire, Rising Above Ruins
Who am I? At some point in their life, every person comes to the point where they think about their identity. The time and manner of these deliberations may vary greatly, for some people this process may even be an unconscious one. But the gist remains, everyone thinks about it. I know from personal experience, from my Kurdish family, that, for many Kurdish people, pain, suffering and loss, be it through persecution or migration, are often at the forefront of their memory, laced with tradition and cultural practices. But that resistance and the fight for freedom are equally prominent. Cultural memory becomes resistance when cultural practices are penalized, and memory becomes a weapon. The slogan “berxwedan jîyan e” (“perseverance is life”, my trans.) expresses this sentiment perfectly. Resistance and perseverance keep Kurds alive and are part of the history, part of the culture, but also something forced by the actions of the oppressors, not something done by choice but out of necessity. I argue that in Dancing Amid Fire, Rising Above Ruins (2023), Essmat Sophie bridges the gap between Kurds in the European diaspora and those in the homeland, enabling diverse Kurdish perspectives to become more mutually intelligible, refusing to portray Kurdish culture as homogenous and without relying on Kurdish nationalism as the only common denominator. She achieves this through her portrayal of themes that resonate particularly with the diaspora—such as cultural practice outside the homeland and the preservation of it through memory—while also engaging in themes shared by most Kurds, like identity, community, persecution, and politics
Through actively using memory as a storytelling tool, the book itself becomes a piece of cultural memory as it preserves Kurdish history and perspectives in Iran and in Europe. While collective identities are often defined against one another, Sophie achieves an identity building without depending on othering, through exploring the development of the characters’ emotions and inner turmoil against the background of the different Kurdish struggles. She does so without relying on Kurdish nationalism alone to build common identity and without conflating Kurdishness and Kurdish nationalism as one.
The book which will make up the main part of this thesis was written in this context. Dancing Amid Fire Rising Above Ruins by Essmat Sophie (2023) is focused primarily on the context of Iranian Kurds and Kurds in European Diaspora. The focus of the analysis and the close readings will be the identity represented in the books and the way in which this identity is shaped by cultural memory and cultural practices. Books out of the 2 diaspora may represent very different realities which exist within the enormous variety of Kurdish experiences, with Sophie’s book telling the story of a women and her abuser throughout time and space as well as her family’s story. The book also tells the story of the community of Kurdish people both in the character’s regions of origin as well as in their host countries in the diaspora. To analyse how the author used identity and memory in their book I first explored what identity even is and how it is formed. To incorporate the Kurdish experience, I specifically looked at how collective identities are formed and even more in detail, how national and cultural identities develop and how the main aspects of Kurdish Identity are represented in literature as suggested by secondary literature to establish some basic guidelines for the analysis of the primary text. I followed the same procedure for the key concept of cultural memory. I then selected excerpts for a close reading relating to major themes in Kurdish literature, incorporating other texts to add depth and variety to the analysis
Identity and memory are often part of literature and especially novels. I chose the book Dancing Amid Fire Rising Above Ruins by Essmat Sophie (2023) when I read it out of personal interest and the themes of identity and memory were immediately apparent to me. To be able to make any determinations about the themes present in the book, I decided to do close readings of four excerpts. I selected the excerpts based on what I perceived as the major themes and oriented myself around themes often present in Kurdish literature, especially novels, as they were suggested by scholars. These themes will be investigated in more detail in the passage of theory on Kurdish literature as it relates to identity, but it shall be mentioned now to clarify the selection of the excerpts. Two of the themes and excerpts in question are community and cultural practices in the diaspora, the memory of these in the homeland, both of which fall under the larger umbrella of cultural identity and community. The other two fall under the broader category of persecution and politics, one excerpt focusing on the persecution and discrimination in the diaspora and the other one on persecution and gender politics as well as Kurdish resistance in Iran. I felt these themes and the excerpts fit well within the major topics scholars prescribe to Kurdish literature, which are persecution and suffering as well as women’s liberation and Kurdish resistance. In addition to that, I chose to include cultural production and community in the close reading and analysis, as I deem them very important, especially within the framework of the diaspora. To be able to answer the research question of whether bridging the gap between the Kurds in the homeland and those in diaspora is successfully achieved within the novel the excerpts as well as themes seemed suitable points of focus as well as for detecting how Sophie develops the identities of her characters. It is worth mentioning that, while I chose specific excerpts to reflect specific themes, these are certainly not the only subjects discussed. The subject matters often overlap each other, and one may not be clearly distinguishable from the other. In order to be able to make determinations about concepts and issues dealt with in the book, I had to make certain cuts and deliberately leave out aspects of excerpts. The focus on identity and cultural memory came almost consequently, as they are focus points of the novel as well as very closely related to the major topics within Kurdish literature and therefor seemed a natural connector between the various parties which are potential readers of this novel.
Who we are is multidimensional and covers many if not all aspects of our lives, from where we live and what we eat to who we are friends with. And our self is made up of more than one identity: gender identity, sexuality, religion, ethnic and national identities among others. For a lot of people, these different identities or partial identities that make up the self, as well as changing realities, contrast each other and may at times hardly work together (David and Bar-Tal 355). Identity takes place on many different levels, from personal and individual to collective identities (David and Bar-Tal 354).
We all are part of some group or other, but as Anna Triandafyllidou wrote “the nation remains the most pertinent form of collective identity” (593). It is a particular form of social identity based on an imagined community (De Cillia et al. 153). Part of this “we” someone can belong to is the distinction to the “other” to focus on certain characteristics and distinguish oneself and ones companions from others (Triandafyllidou 596). In their study De Cillia et al. make five assumptions they deem most important for the construction of national identities (153-154), these will be examined here to establish a base for what national identities entail. The first are “imagined political communities” (Anderson qtd. in De Cillia et al. 153), uniting individuals in limited political actors, functioning as catalysts and ideals for action with at times “tremendously serious and destructive consequences” (De Cillia et al. 153). Secondly, national identities are discursively created and upkept but can also be discursively disbanded or changed, they are dependent on means like education, mass communication and militarization as well as others to continue being in discourse and keep existing in the minds of people (De Cillia et al. 153; Mahmod 4, 40-41). The third proposition assumes national identity as a habitus shared among its members, creating community based on “related emotional attitudes (…) and similar behavioural dispositions”, manifested through socialization (De Cillia et al. 153). This understanding and socialization include the distinction from the “other”, as mentioned also by Triandafyllidou and Mahmod, which forms the penultimate assumption, the promise of uniqueness and a construction of a perceived sameness and homogeneity (Triandafyllidou 593; De Cillia et al. 153; Mahmod 4, 39). But, and that is the last assumption, there is no one national identity (De Cillia et al. 154). Everything is highly dependent on context and always discursively constructed, which makes national identities to a certain extent unstable and alterable, ultimately “dynamic, fragile, ‘vulnerable’ and often incoherent” (De Cillia et al. 154).
As mentioned by David & Bar-Tal, national identity has not always been as relevant as it is today, it was only with time that dynamic movement of individuals within and across different collective identities made it important to be able to explain certain identities that make up the self (354-355). Recently, globalisation has made these dynamic movements more frequent and made transnational identities more common (David and Bar-Tal 354). At the same time other collective identity markers have become more important through the process of localisation, also due to the increase of globalisation and world-wide migration (David and Bar-Tal 355). What becomes apparent again through the emerging localisation, is the need to distinguish oneself from others through establishing collective identities based on commonness (Triandafyllidou 593; Mahmod 4). Mahmod mentions different functions of nationalism on different levels, as political doctrine (39-40), as cultural phenomenon (40) and as a moral ideal (40). Nationalism and national identity do not pertain solely to political dimensions but also to other aspects of life, culturally and as a moral ideal upon which to act. To summarize, national identity is a specific form of collective identity, in a political context, which is constructed and upheld and challenged through discourse and socialisation.
Aspects of identity can also be contradictory when one or more factors contrast each other which may be the case for Kurdish individuals. Perceiving their identity as made up of multiple, contrasting, identities (David and Bar-Tal 355), is a common development in the Kurdish identity, due to the particular history in the region where most of its members live and originated from (see for example Toktamis in Harris 370-383; Bengio; A. Jabar and Mansour).
The Kurdish people are a population of roughly around 40 million people in the SWANA (Southwest Asia and North Africa) region alone (Rubin, Who Are the Kurds? 5).The population numbers are highly unreliable though because the nation states over which the Kurdish regions span have not conducted reliable unpolitical censuses in a number of years (Rubin, Who Are the Kurds? 5). Additionally, some states, like Turkey have not recognized the existence of the Kurdish population at all for the longest time (Ayata 18). Directly related to this are the similarly dubious numbers of Kurds who live in exile or diaspora, with estimations of around a million Kurds living in Europe (Ayata 18). These figures are so inexact because very few countries register Kurds as such, mostly they are counted only by the nationality of the nation states from which they come, so either as Syrian, Turkish, Iraqi or Iranian (Ayata 18). The numbers of Kurds in Europe are based on the Kurdish population in the countries of citizenship, which as mentioned before are unreliable themselves (Ayata 18).
Persecution and statelessness are of course not unique to the Kurds; many members of minority groups face similar struggles. However, the situation for the Kurds may be a little different, not because they are more deserving than others, but rather because of the sheer number of people. According to Rubin, if taken all together, even with the unreliable population estimates, a unified Kurdish nation state would have a population larger than for example Canada or Poland and stretch over an area bigger than Austria (Who Are the Kurds? 5). This makes the Kurds the largest people without a nation state (Rubin, Who Are the Kurds? 5). Throughout time the Kurdish people have struggled again and again for their independence, leading to tensions with nation states in which they reside seeking to assimilate them "into hegemonic, unified nation-states" (Bengio 9).
With the establishment of coherent nation states in the SWANA region in the 19th and 20th century, after the fall of different empires, sometimes at the hands of Europeans (Toktamis 6 in Harris 370-383; Rubin, Who Are the Kurds? 8-13), different group identities Kurds had subscribed to so far were challenged. Kurdish nationalism is often a strong conviction and identification with the countries of residence is often weak or does not take place at all in Kurdish communities. Kurdish people unite around “perennial bonds” and through that they make themselves a distinct nation with potential claims of their own national state (Tunc 48). The shared history is intensified and blown up to justify the nationalism, many Kurds claim common ancestry and Kurdish emirates have existed throughout time more than once (Rubin, Who Are the Kurds? 8-11). At least since the establishment of the nation-states which exist in the region today, connected Kurdish histories have become more substantial, with political aspirations for unity rising whenever the oppression by the other states becomes more severe (Rubin, Who Are the Kurds? 10-13). Fact remains, Kurdish nationalism is a common ideology among Kurds today, in Iran, Iraq, Turkey and Syria as well as in the diaspora (Tunc 59; Bengio 44; Mügge 181-182; Mahmod 42; Rubin, What Do the Kurds Want? 50). Kurdish nationalism does not entail a state nation emerging by destroying minority nation constructs, rather it is the aspiration of nation building by a minority (Mahmod 42). Although nationalism is a factor in Kurdish identity, it goes beyond just national identity and includes those Kurds living in the diaspora and all around the globe in different Kurdish communities (Bullock in Korangy and Mortezaee 159), creating a common goal and a base for efforts of preservation of language, culture and art. Even though Kurdish nationalism is a strong prevailing ideology, it is not the same as Kurdishness, the latter being more akin to “protoKurdish nationalism”, without the definite claim of statehood inherent in Kurdish nationalist understandings (Tunc 57). While its main use today is to legitimize the claim to nationhood and Kurdish nationalism, in its core it is a slightly different form of collective identity, not quite so tightly bound to modern, colonially-influenced understandings of nationhood (Tunc 57)
Discrimination and persecution take up many forms in regard to Kurdish life. In terms of education, many Kurds did not have access to high-quality education for the longest time, public schools often employing methods set on establishing the nation states and rigid class systems with little social mobility (A. Jabar and Mansour 104, 190; Blum and Hassanpour 325, 327; Mofidi and Aghapouri, 6-7, 13; Pillen, 4; Bengio, 35). Often this is connected to the education of the Kurdish languages, many times prohibited 7 (Hassanpour et al. 372-375). To begin with, there are many languages or language varieties that can be considered Kurdish, which are not necessarily mutually intelligible (Rubin, Who Are the Kurds? 6), making the establishment of a standard difficult. Another tremendously influential factor for the lack of standard is the constant marginalization and from time to time even prohibition of Kurdish speaking, writing and language education, the persecution going so far that it may at times be considered attempted linguicide (Arpacık 45-46; Pillen 3-6; Hassanpour et al. 368-371). Prohibiting Kurdish language education and limiting education for Kurds has at least two severe consequences. On one hand, it prevents or prevented Kurds from learning Kurdish, excluding them from some cultural practices such as reading in Kurdish (Blum and Hassanpour 327). On the other hand, limiting the education of Kurds while simultaneously prohibiting the daily use of Kurdish languages excluded and keeps excluding Kurdish monolingual Kurds from participating in public life and literally silences them (Pillen 4).
This is certainly not the only instance of politically-motivated persecution or discriminatory policies in the Kurdish context. Violence and the Kurds have a long common history, for example, the British used violence against the Kurds in the 1920’s to penalize and intimidate dissenters (A. Jabar and Mansour 24-25). Due to the limited space, only a few highlights, or to be more exact, lowlights will be examined here. In Turkey political and power interests led to the criminalization and prohibition of the Kurdish Worker’ Party, which was for the longest time responsible or made responsible for many of the violent uprisings of the Kurds (A. Jabar and Mansour 93-94). The Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) and the different groups and parties that emerged out of it are criminalized in many countries to this day (Dag 140). Overall, many things could be said on the PKK and similar groups but that would go beyond the scope of this paper. Other events which remain as jarring points in the Kurdish history are the Anfal campaign and the Halabja massacre by Saddam Hussein and the Ba’ath regime in 1988 (Albert 219; Majid 1). Other violent episodes are the attacks committed by the Islamic State (ISIS), culminating in the war between Kurdish peshmerga (Kurdish freedom fighters) and ISIS in Syria and Iraq (A. Jabar and Mansour 186) as well as the genocide against Yezidi Kurds in the Iraqi provinces of Nineveh and Duhok (Yetkin 238). Not to mention the Armenian genocide in the Turkish province of Van, in which different Kurdish tribes were involved sometimes as protestors, but at times also as perpetrators (Polatel in Üngör and Işık 80, 84-85). Apart from that, several wars took place in the region during the 20th and 21st centuries. Just to mention a few: the Iran-Iraq war, the first gulf war and the invasion of the US forces in Iraq. To expand on them all, even though this is just a selection, would expand far over the boundaries of this thesis, therefore a mention here shall suffice
Apart from the several wars, attempted genocides and political persecutions, recent developments in Iran shed light on another very important part of Kurdish political movements and the ideologies which underscore them. The murder of Jina Amini through the Iranian morality police kicked off a new series of feminist protests worldwide but especially in Iran (see for example Satrapi). What is often neglected is the fact that Jina Amini was a Kurdish woman (Toerkell) and that the first uprisings and protests after her death took place in the Kurdish regions and were organized by Kurdish communities (Radpey). This also sheds light on an issue very deeply connected with Kurdish resistance, women’s liberation. The slogan Jin, Jiyan, Azadî (“Women, Life, Freedom”, my trans.) which became known all over the world through the recent protests, has been a major part of Kurdish resistance for decades (Perrin, C. & Perrin, J. in Satrapi 26-29).
Overall, the identity of the Kurdish people is of course incredibly varied, but in every community, it is characterized by a lot of suffering, be it through political persecution, inability to practice Kurdish culture or speak Kurdish languages or through the several attempted genocides and the involvement in different violent conflicts. At the same time, resistance is equally important, being the inevitable counterpart to the persecution and suffering.
Arts, and in the case of this thesis, writing and literature specifically, are of course tied very tightly to the languages and cultural practices and are important in forming identity (Ahmadzadeh, In Search of a Kurdish Novel 583). Kurdish literature, similar to Kurdish languages, was and partly is not free in expression, with a “long and tumultuous history” (Korangy and Mortezaee 1). A symbol for this tumultuous history is that the first Kurdish novel was not published in any of the Kurdish regions, but rather in the Soviet Union (Ahmadzadeh, In Search of a Kurdish Novel 584-585). Another factor of complication is that Kurdish literary tradition was largely oral (Cockrell-Abdullah 113; Strohmeier 30, 34; Blum and Hassanpour, 327) and to an extent still is, for example in the form of dengbêjs, oral performers who are and were part of Kurdish literary tradition, particularly in Kurdish regions in Turkey, but also in all of Kurdistan (Hamelink 1-2, 16; Korangy and Mortezaee 23). Apart from this oral tradition, different written literary traditions exist in the different Kurdish language varieties, particularly interesting with the book selected in mind, the novel as a literary genre with a distinct trans-national and cross-border connotation (Ahmadzadeh, In Search of a Kurdish Novel 579-580). While Mem u Zin written by Ahmad-e Khani in 1695 is generally considered one if not the first written Kurdish story among scholars, finding guidelines for modern Kurdish novels and what they entail is far more difficult (Ahmadzadeh, In Search of a Kurdish Novel 592).
It is, as may be expected, particularly difficult to establish a canon of novels written by women, due to “various political, social, cultural and economic conditions” in the different Kurdish societies (Ahmadzadeh, Kurdish Women's Novels 720, 734-735). The Kurdish novel has the possibility to expose societal structures and point out ongoing changes and developments as well as represent parts of the society which are underrepresented in political decisions and academic research or in daily life (Ahmadzadeh, In Search of a Kurdish Novel 592 ; Ahmadzadeh, Kurdish Women's Novels 719).
As in all other aspects of Kurdish Studies, establishing the themes Kurdish literature deals with is not simple, mostly due to the large amount of diversity among Kurdish people. The creation, as well as the interpretation of different works from the different Kurdish regions, are influenced by the political and cultural realities of the specific region and can, therefore, vary greatly. Kurdish literature is not cohesive in language either. Many novels are and were written in Arabic, Turkish, Persian and recently more and more novels are being published in languages of the diaspora (Ahmadzadeh, In Search of a Kurdish Novel 584; Alhamid in Korangy and Mortezaee 193, 199). Additionally the many different Kurdish language varieties are represented in different intensities as well (Ahmadzadeh, In Search of a Kurdish Novel 584-585).
However, it has been possible to identify some central common themes across Kurdish literature: the suffering of the Kurdish people, for example, through the Anfal campaign, the fight for (political) freedom and statehood as well as more recent tragedies experienced by Kurds all over the world (Ahmadzadeh, Kurdish Women's Novels 737- 738). Another reoccurring theme the authors write about is women’s liberation, although Ahmadzadeh mentions this to be often subordinate to the question of statehood, a statement which may have to be revised when more recently-published Kurdish literature is examined, as the paper was published in 2008 and the Kurdish novel might have developed since then (Ahmadzadeh, Kurdish Women's Novels 738; Korangy and Mortezaee 174). These major themes will be looked at in detail in the close readings
However, it has been possible to identify some central common themes across Kurdish literature: the suffering of the Kurdish people, for example, through the Anfal campaign, the fight for (political) freedom and statehood as well as more recent tragedies experienced by Kurds all over the world (Ahmadzadeh, Kurdish Women's Novels 737- 738). Another reoccurring theme the authors write about is women’s liberation, although Ahmadzadeh mentions this to be often subordinate to the question of statehood, a statement which may have to be revised when more recently-published Kurdish literature is examined, as the paper was published in 2008 and the Kurdish novel might have developed since then (Ahmadzadeh, Kurdish Women's Novels 738; Korangy and Mortezaee 174). These major themes will be looked at in detail in the close readings
When talking about literature in the diaspora, the frame for interpretation and remembrance is at least partly given. Not being in the nation states which suppress the Kurds and their culture can be freeing, opening up the possibility of cultural and political production (Cockrell-Abdullah 109; Hussain in Korangy and Mortezaee 174). It is also characterized by the personal identity components of the author in question, like the nation-state and circumstances they come from and currently live in, their political affiliations, their faith or lack thereof and their connection to their homeland and family (Dag, 139). The Kurdish culture they have in common may unite the different narratives and identity components to allow talking about a “diasporic literature” and cultural production (Dag 142-143). The diaspora allows access to a different relationship to borders, migration and what home and origin may mean (Zhang qtd. in Hussain in Korangy and Mortezaee 174). As in much of Kurdish literature, themes in Kurdish diasporic literature include the trauma through tragedies, women’s liberation, (patriarchal) violence (Hussain in Korangy and Mortezaee 175-176), but may be laced with the experiences of transnationalism
Memory Studies is a field of study which bridges the gap between English and American Studies and other fields of studies in social sciences and humanities (Erll 238). Cultural memory is the relation between past, present and future in socio-cultural contexts by and through different “processes of a biological, medial, or social nature” (Erll 238). The concept of cultural memory serves the purpose of connecting for example Literary Studies with the concepts of identity, memory and cultural heritage, among others (Erll 238). Towards the end of the 20th century the understanding of collective memory swerved from a biological “racial” understanding toward an understanding rooted in culture and Cultural Studies (Assmann, J. and Czaplicka 125). It is important to study collective memory, as it serves as a tool to discover group identity and be able to determine values and moralities as well as “constitution and tendencies” of a society (Assmann, J. and Czaplicka 133). Memory and collective identities are intricately linked, as memory is always kept alive by social groups and their belief systems and collective emotions with which they themselves practice memory and interpret the past (Confino in Erll et al. 77- 78; Assmann, A. in Erll et al. 97). This includes what is remembered, how it is remembered and what is left out (Confino in Erll et al. 78). Cultural memory is not a monolith but is rather constantly changing, with certain aspects being forgotten and disregarded, either systematically to feed a certain narrative, or simply to make space for new concepts, ideas and challenges (Assman, A. in Erll et al. 97). There are different varieties of forgetting: active and passive forgetting (Assman, A. in Erll et al. 97-98). Passive forgetting is unintentional, with acts like hiding, abandoning, losing or neglecting something, which may be discovered later if it survives materially (Assmann, A. in Erll et al. 98). Contrary to that, active forgetting entails intentional violent destruction of memory directed at cultures other than that of the destructors or directed at a minority, acting as a form of censorship (Assmann, A. in Erll et al. 97-98). Remembering can also take an active or passive form, the active form entailing selective collection and establishing a canon, a working memory and may take forms like museums or monuments (Assmann, A. in Erll et al. 99). Passive remembering is more of an accumulation, establishing an archive, a reference memory, although these are certainly not without management or curation and therefore still somewhat active (Assmann, A. in Erll et al. 99)
Literature is part of cultural memory as well, “a body of commemorative actions” which store cultural knowledge not simply recording but also always interpreting and contextualizing (Lachmann in Erll et al. 301). The intertextual nature of literature ensures its embedding into cultural memory space, literature acting as a sort of mnemonic device connecting art and memory (Lachmann in Erll et al. 301, 309). As mentioned before, selective memory works to establish a canon and the canon is of great importance for the cultural memory, as it shapes and sustains it due to its longevity, it characterizes the selfimage of a given society (Grabes in Erll et al. 311). Therefore, shifts in the canon can be indicative of shifts in values of societies (Grabes in Erll et al. 311),
Following this train of thought, establishing a canon can act as a political tool, it may go hand in hand with the violent destruction of minorities and outside cultures. This is the case for at least part of the Kurdish art history, and Kurdish cultural memory. As in every other aspect concerning Kurdish issues, the cultural memory and the way it is dealt with 12 may vary greatly depending on the part of Kurdistan talked about, but some aspects may be true for every variety of Kurdish cultural memory. Kurdish cultural memory and its carriers have almost always a political dimension. When art, performance and, of course, literature are censored and their producers or spreaders persecuted, the cultural product itself becomes politicized together with the memory it carries. An example of this politicized persecution and therefore politicized cultural memory are, as mentioned before, the dengbêjs, the oral performers and carriers of Kurdish cultural knowledge and history, who were severely persecuted and their art often prohibited (Hamelink 197-198). Artists, as well as scholars, and their works are “a product of a deeply divided political system” with social and systemic control working against free expression (CockrellAbdullah 109). Cockrell-Abdullah makes this statement about the Kurdistan Region in Iraq (KRI) specifically, but I would argue that due to the political and social tensions in all parts of Kurdistan this holds up for all regions. Memory is often politized, sometimes by official actors (Cockrell-Abdullah 109), other times by private people often as protest and remembrance woven together (Göral in Üngör and Işık 106-107). Most often, Kurdish cultural memory deals with events of persecution and discrimination in different forms like museums (Majid 139-153), protests (Göral in Üngör and Işık 110-112), songs (Hamelink 61), visual arts (Cockrell-Abdullah 107) or literature (Galip in Korangy and Mortezaee 32).
Overall, cultural memory is tied very closely to cultural production, as in the case of literature, where it is an important part of working through and interpreting traumatic events (Fortunati & Lamberti in Erll et al. 130). A case can be made that Dancing Amid Fire Rising Above Ruins (Sophie) is an example of that. Traumatic events which transpired before, during and after the 1979 Islamic revolution in a Kurdish community are represented and interpreted through the eyes of the different characters. This in turn can be very important in understanding one’s own identity when in the diaspora. Finding a connection to the homeland while being physically very far away from it, literature seems a good option to get to know the places and stories when one is unable to be there physically
In the book many tropes and themes are being negotiated through a number of methods. As mentioned before, I selected the excerpts already knowing what major themes I was looking for to be able to determine whether the book can act as a cultural conduit between 13 the Kurdish diaspora and those living in the homelands or not. First, I will talk about the matters of cultural identity and community in the diaspora and the memory of how they manifested in Iran. After that I focus on the themes which seem omnipresent in Kurdish contexts: persecution, politics and resistance. All scenes which are looked at closely are scenes which show the resilience and expressions of cultural identity with which the novel is laced
Overall, numerous scenes in the novel lend themselves to analysis through the lens of community and cultural practice, both within the homeland and in the diaspora. The scenes selected for this are particularly expressive, offering insight into the various factors that shape Kurdish (diasporic) identity and the preservation of cultural memory in and beyond the homeland. Through these moments, Sophie illustrates how communal bonds are maintained and reimagined despite displacement and migration, allowing for new forms of solidarity to emerge in exile. The narrative thus becomes a space where the boundaries between homeland and diaspora blur, as shared memories and cultural practices transcend geography to sustain a sense of belonging. In doing so, the text foregrounds the resilience of Kurdish cultural identity and the capacity of literature to serve as both archive and connective tissue for a dispersed community.
As soon as my son hears the Kurdish dance music, he comes to me and takes my hand. One step forward, one step back. Two steps to the left, one long step to the right. We zigzag our feet and turn toward the right to repeat the movements. I pick up the dish towel from the kitchen and turn it in the air like a dancing kerchief. It's a transcendent two-person dance. […] My son and I submit ourselves to the joyful sound of the music. We listen and dance. Dance is not merely listening to music and moving automatically to its rhythm. Dance is never just listening. To be able to be in harmony with the music while dancing, it's not enough to move one's body. One has to feel its spirit. I move the dish towel through the air and sing along with the song: Flying from every side; Sorrow has attacked every trace of me from every side! Zaniar, who is trying to strengthen his mother tongue, asks about the verse's exact meaning. I translate it for him. Laughing, he asks, “They have put such happy music on this sad song? Are we dancing to these sad words?” “Yes, we dance to sad lyrics. Most of our songs are sad.” (Sophie 33-34).
In this scene, the main character, Tara, spontaneously dances with her son, Zaniar, with the dance being an expression of culture and depending on cultural knowledge. They hear 14 the music, and both instantly know what to do, how to move and which accessories are required. Sophie describes the dance in quite a lot of detail, but the knowledge of how it looks in reality and what Kurdish music sounds like is knowledge preserved for Kurdish readers or those who possess this knowledge from research or experience. This may be hinting at the target audience of the book, since, on a base level, the extract is understandable for every potential reader, providing enough description to make clear what is happening but on a deeper level, a more profound understanding is possible only for people who possess the right set of knowledge.
Another aspect present in the scene is the memory Tara connects with the music and the dance. She thinks about the resilience of the Kurdish women she grew up with, Hanar and Mahgoli (Sophie 34) and the hardships they have endured but also the resistance within the music and the art of dancing (Sophie 33). Like literature acts as a memory device in cultural preservation (Lachmann in Erll et al. 301, 309), music and dance take this role here. But it also transports her back to moments of intense pain, the assassination of her husband in Germany and the persecution she herself experienced in Iran (Sophie 34).
Zaniar, who grew up in Europe, outside of the Kurdish region in Iran, and does not speak Kurdish fluently, has another use for the music, one very typical growing up with a minority language as your “mother tongue” (Sophie 34). He uses the song to practice, to try and better understand Kurdish, to deepen his connection to his heritage and family. Language is certainly part of the identity (David and Bar-Tal 356), so learning Kurdish can be incredibly important for a feeling of belonging and a sense of who one is when living in diaspora. In this he discovers something very indicative of the Kurdish condition: the intense mismatch of outside appearance and internal ongoings. The music is very happy, but the lyrics are sad, which is a common occurrence in Kurdish music. Kurdish songs often deal with Kurdish themes and if the themes present in literature are any indication, it can be assumed that the subjects in question are often fairly dark and deal with hardship and suffering (Ahmadzadeh, Kurdish Women's Novels 737-738). The short passage of the song the reader is provided with here can give the glimmer of an idea of the sadness present in the text; “Flying from every side; Sorrow has attacked every trace of me from every side!” (Sophie 34). It talks about sorrow and pain and makes it clear that this pain and suffering is inescapable. This makes it seem a suitable example of the sadness and sometimes even hopelessness in Kurdish art. But, as Sophie describes, the music is happy, it is a “joyful sound” (34), leading to dancing and happy movement. This 15 can be read as almost symbolic of Kurdish life and therefore Kurdish resistance, being happy and living in the face of adversity. As Sophie mentions before, “Dancing for perseverance, dancing for staying alive, dancing for understanding a sense of belonging and authenticity” (33). Music also holds a special place in Kurdish history as it has been one of the major factors in knowledge preservation for the longest time (Hamelink 1-2, 16; Korangy and Mortezaee 23).
Interestingly, although the scene is quite short, Sophie represents different Kurdish diasporic identities here. The way Zaniar connects with the music, the dance and the language is starkly different to how Tara connects with it. And what may be even more extreme, the way in which Taras daughter Zilan does not connect to that at all (33-34), occupied with her present life in Norway more than with what it means for her to be Kurdish.
Two further points of interest come out of this scene: the community created through the dance and the activation and preservation of cultural memory enabled through cultural practice. The creation of community through dance is relatively straight forward as the dance is traditionally communal. Tara starts out alone, but as soon as Zaniar joins her it becomes a typical Kurdish dance, one you cannot dance alone but always needs at least one other person to successfully dance. “dancing for understanding a sense of belonging and authenticity” (Sophie 33) gives an idea of the meaning this cultural practice holds; forming community, experiencing together, preserving culture and preserving life. Through dancing together Tara and Zaniar actively create togetherness, through the music and the dance they actively make a memory of family and community for the future, while at the same time Tara remembers members of her family and of her community she has lost through persecution or being physically removed from due to the fact that she lives in Norway. Keeping in mind the persecution of Kurdish art and culture as well as language (Hamelink 197-198; Cockrell-Abdullah 109; Korangy and Mortezaee 1), this cultural practice serves two purposes. It is an act of resistance and at the same time it is an expression of the freedom living in diaspora can grant to preserve cultural practices without repercussion (Cockrell-Abdullah 109; Hussain in Korangy and Mortezaee 174). It is also a catalyst of cultural memory akin to how literature acts as a “body of commemorative action” (Lachmann in Erll et al. 301), as a framework for interpretation of the past. The dance takes a similar function: “To be able to be in harmony with the music while dancing, it's not enough to move one's body. One has to feel its spirit.” 16 (Sophie 34). The dance connects past, present and future and relates them to one another, an act of making as well as experiencing cultural memory both at the same time (Erll 238).
Sophie represents different relationships to Kurdishness and what being Kurdish entails in this scene. Tara, Zaniar and Zilan all exhibit different levels of connection and understanding of the cultural practice. It is also a good example of how memory shapes identity, with Taras’s sense of self being intricately tied to her memory of Kurdistan. Zilan and Zaniar do not have access to these memories themselves and have to make their own connections and own memories to keep their culture alive in the diaspora or choose not to do so.
The second excerpt I selected employs a similar theme of dance, but in a very different context. Sophie portrays a ritualized dance to express grief. It is a memory Tara has of the day Mahgoli lost two of her sons, who were executed by the Iranian regime (Sophie 143- 145). Here, memory is employed to give an example of the discrimination Kurds faced and sometimes still face in Iran. But it is also another example of cultural practice and community action.
“Hoy, heh, heh hoy... Sirvan, my beloved... Hoy heh...Shaho bawanakam... hoy, hey, ho... Mahgoli stood up. Her legs were still shaking. She straightened her back, put both her hands on her hips, opened the shawl from around her waist, turned her head toward the sky, and bent backward as far as she could, as if to try and fill her lungs with as much air as possible. She took a few deep breaths and wailed another Hooreh, Hey ho, hoho, hey ho.... […] Then, she started turning around in circles and stomping her feet on the floor. Mother and grandma and all the neighbors who had now filled the entire large courtyard were wailing, except for Mahgoli, who kept turning around, stomping her feet, and letting out Hooreh.” (Sophie 144-145).
The reader can experience the pain and trauma through Tara’s memory and learn about the set ritual Mahgoli can employ in moments of intense pain and grief. The ritual is called hooreh, a style of singing and oral tradition somewhat akin to the dengbêjs, sometimes used to retell stories, when sung by women it is often an expression of grief and a lament (Rashidi-Kalhur; 'Hora, a Voice of Kurdish Heritage'). It is, like the dengbêjs a form of preservation of cultural heritage. Similar to the excerpt before, the movement and sound are described with a certain amount of detail, but the sound is, also due to the nature of the book as a written document, privy to those who already know it. “Hey ho, hoho, hey ho.... […] Then, she started turning around in circles and stomping her feet on the floor.” (Sophie 145). There are different levels of understanding depending on the level of cultural knowledge the reader possesses. There are many similarities between this form of grievance and the traditional dance as described before, the shawl Mahgoli turns over her head (Sophie 145) and the dish towel Tara uses to emulate the traditional piece of cloth used in dancing (Sophie 33) appear to serve similar purposes of expression in the dance or ritual
Another aspect of this excerpt is the connection of this memory to the repression Tara and her community experienced throughout her life. Mahgoli learns about her sons execution through regime forces but she finds a way to process her grief with the help of set cultural practices and a community which joins her in her pain: “Mother and grandma and all the neighbours who had now filled the entire large courtyard were wailing” (Sophie 145). This expression of togetherness appears time and again in the book (see for example Sophie 40-41) and especially within the memories of her childhood Tara relates to the reader (see for example Sophie 110-112, 139-143, 171-172). Within this community lies the strength and the resilience. “She looked like a gazelle who had escaped from a lion” (Sophie 145), Mahgoli finds strength in the pain. “You cannot battle darkness with a sword. You can only remove darkness with candles and light. Light a candle, my dear Zaniar.” (Sophie 41), Mahgoli gives Zaniar a similar way out of his anger and grief with the help of community, rituals and nature when he has trouble dealing with the assassination of his father (Sophie 40-41). Finding togetherness in pain and loss appears to be a common theme within the story. The resistance within this ritual becomes especially apparent when taking into consideration the warning soldiers gave to Mahgoli beforehand “Remember, Mother, mourning is forbidden” (Sophie 144), they explicitly warn against mourning of the dead to prevent martyrdom and prevent communal gatherings.
The way Sophie uses punctuation in this excerpt with the repetition of the three periods after each hooreh is remarkable within the context of death. It suggests a transition instead of an end, a sort of continuous process which is not yet finished but infinitely ongoing. The grief does not stop here. Rather it stays with Mahgoli forever, she uses the memory of the horrible things she has experienced to become more capable and resilient (Sophie 40-41). This is not dissimilar to what Tara does throughout the novel with her remembrance of what she and others in her community have experienced, turning these into resilience, points of communal gathering and togetherness. Here Sophie weaves together the themes of community and persecution by using the tool of memory. Mahgoli experiences a traumatic loss at the hands of the Iranian regime and finds help in ritualised grieving and communal spirit. She uses her knowledge of cultural practices passed on to her through members of the community who came before to become stronger in the face of a devastating loss. Through cultural memory these rituals were preserved against destruction and forgetting under oppression. Through her active practice against an explicit order telling her not to grieve she preserves this ritual for another generation, for Tara.
As with the instances of community and cultural practices, examples of persecution and discriminatory politics appear frequently throughout the novel—often, though not always, intertwined with acts of resistance and defiance. The two excerpts selected to illustrate persecution, politics, and resistance, such as those addressing cultural identity and community, are divided in scenes set in Iran, and those in the European diaspora, both recounted through the memories of individual characters. Through these memories, Sophie highlights how collective trauma continues to shape Kurdish identity across borders, revealing persecution as both a shared historical experience and a transnational point of connection. Moreover, the juxtaposition of homeland and diaspora perspectives underscores how resistance takes on different forms depending on context—ranging from overt political struggle to more subtle acts of cultural and emotional survival.
I hear two people speaking Persian behind me. Someone else is talking in Kurdish on a mobile phone a little further away. My heartbeat increases, and my hands start to shake. I direct the children to get into the car so they cannot hear anything. My entire being is filled with a sense of homelessness, a sort of illfated fear at the sound of hearing my mother tongue or Persian from strangers in a foreign land. All the memories of death, sorrow, and agony are revived inside of me. […] We were sitting in a restaurant when two men approached our table and started speaking with Awat. They spoke Persian and Kurdish and engaged in a warm conversation with him about many things. […] Suddenly, both men stood up erect and shot my husband down. My beloved husband took his last breath right in front of Zaniar and me, and his bloody, lifeless body fell before us. From that moment, every time I hear two strangers speaking Persian or Kurdish, fear consumes me, and I run. I won’t lose anyone else. (Sophie 39)
The scene described here is a stark example of the reach the Iranian regime may have, and an ultimate act of persecution politically active Kurds can be faced with. Sophie describes Tara’s memory of the time her husband was killed before her and her children’s eyes, a case of a Kurdish man being assassinated in Europe, Germany specifically. Iranian forces reach so far in their power, that even in the diaspora in Europe, geographically far away from Iran and the Kurdish regions, potential harm may await Kurds. In this scene many different emotions and facets become apparent, the political persecution of Kurds, the trauma Tara and her children experienced and her complicated relationship to both Kurdish and Persian
For Zaniar, as was discussed before, Kurdish is interesting, he wants to learn it and also speaks it with other people outside the family to improve it (Sophie 61-67). It seems that what Kurdish and speaking it evoke for him are curiosity and the wish to speak more fluently, to be more connected to his identity. Tara has a starkly different relationship with Kurdish, and in her case also Persian. For her, hearing strangers speak Kurdish or Persian is so deeply connected with her husband’s assassination that it evokes terror and fear (Sophie 39). The languages she grew up with were marred so badly every time she hears them spoken in public she feels “a sense of homelessness” (Sophie 39). To a certain extent this disconnected her from her Kurdish identity, rendering her unable to relax around her language while in public. At the same time her experience is deeply connected to many Kurdish experiences of persecution and specifically executions and connects her story with others from her community within the book (see for example Sophie 61, 112, 116, 139, 242). Ultimately, her husband’s assassination shows that even though she left Iran and Kurdistan behind to find safety with her family to be free. But she and her loved ones cannot escape the regime and their violent forces. What also becomes apparent when looking at how Tara remembers her pain, is that she is not suffering just for herself but carries with her the pain and loss of her children as well. This is akin to the pain and suffering of the Saturday Mothers in Cizre who protested the atrocities committed against them and their families by Turkish forces, especially mass disappearances (Göral in Üngör and Işık 110-114). While for these women their and their children’s status is often unclear, a harsh side-effect of disappearing instead of dying (Göral in Üngör and Işık 115), two things are comparable here. The first is the gendered aspect of this form of memory making (Göral in Üngör and Işık 114), where women, often wives and mothers, are the ones left over after state violence of this manner occurs (Göral in Üngör and Işık 114) and the task of remembrance is left with them. The second one is the aspect of continual experience of the memory connected to identity and death in accordance with Fanons writing, where the memory is experienced over and over and traumatic experiences lead to a continuous everlasting process of grief and suffering (Göral in Üngör and Işık 118). This temporal understanding of experience and memory occurs here as well, not in the form of a protest, like the Saturday Mothers, but through the continuous use of the languages connected to the trauma and the inescapability of them. Tara keeps experiencing the death and loss of her husband and her children’s pain connected to that (see for example Sophie 39-42). For the family, especially Tara and Zaniar, the traumatic loss of husband and father respectively is so deeply embedded into their personal history and the Kurdish history that it changes their personality
Through this specific act of violence committed against Tara and her family, her personal pain and suffering become even more intricately intertwined with the suffering of all Kurdish people or as Sophie puts it “personal adversity is mingled with public affliction” with the “communal demons of an entire nation” leading to an unmeasurable amount of pain which can lead to a person being unable to act (Sophie 77). For Tara this means being unable to do anything else but escape the situation, being so afraid of losing someone else close to her that she cannot do anything but flee (Sophie 39)
Through this specific act of violence committed against Tara and her family, her personal pain and suffering become even more intricately intertwined with the suffering of all Kurdish people or as Sophie puts it “personal adversity is mingled with public affliction” with the “communal demons of an entire nation” leading to an unmeasurable amount of pain which can lead to a person being unable to act (Sophie 77). For Tara this means being unable to do anything else but escape the situation, being so afraid of losing someone else close to her that she cannot do anything but flee (Sophie 39)
That day, Hanar and a few other girls and women from our area went to the main street in the city to celebrate the occasion, ignoring the warnings about the illegality of the March 8th demonstration. […] A throng of women had gathered in the city square to protest and were shouting slogans such as: "We want equal rights. We didn't start a revolution to turn back time." Gradually, the volunteer members of the revolutionary militia and some Kurds belonging to the Qur'anic School started arriving and shouting counterslogans. "Death to any woman without the hijab!" or "Wear the hijab or take a beating." At the same time, several revolutionary militias threw stones from the surrounding buildings, causing the women to enter a nearby mosque - the Masjid Jame - and take refuge there. There, they took the mosque megaphone and were chanting: "We didn't start a revolution to turn back time." […] The militias tried to enter the mosque in search of the women who had taken refuge in the mosque. People tried to stop them, but they forced their way into the mosque and started beating the women with sticks and canes. (Sophie 154)
Unlike the previously discussed scenes and excerpts this is not an experience or memory experienced and narrated by Tara, but rather the memory of Hiwa, the professor and member of her community who assaulted her (Sophie 88-89). This shift in narrative perspective already alters the framing considerably. Whereas Tara often recalls her past from the viewpoint of a child, Hiwa is reflecting on the same historical moment—the Iranian Revolution—from a fundamentally different position: he is adult and male. The everchanging perspective in the book, altering between Tara’s and Hiwa’s narration, elegantly reminds the reader of the diverse Kurdish perspectives that exist. Moreover, while Mahgoli and Hanar are intimately connected to Tara, their stories intertwined both throughout their lives in Iran and their lives in the European Diaspora, Hiwa wants to be very close to Hanar but is unable to really grasp her attention or make any real name for himself in the Kurdish village they all come from. He remains on the periphery of the otherwise tight-knit community. His fixation on Hanar defines the narrative in this excerpt: he seeks proximity but fails to gain her attention or establish significance within their Kurdish village, always cautiously keeping to the margins, never taking too much action. The reader does not learn anything really about Hiwa’s thoughts and inner turmoil which are often part of the retellings from Taras perspective (see for example Sophie 39-42). Hiwa is not removed from the situation, he definitely feels connected to the women here, as can be seen by him going to observe the protest (Sophie 154), but he is not involved enough to actually participate, sticking to just simply observing, unwilling to engage directly
In this scene one of the more salient aspects is the intersectional form of discrimination the women suffer. They are being persecuted on dual grounds: their gender identity, being women, and their ethnic identity, being Kurdish. They suffer due to who they are, an identity not freely chosen but assigned to them or as Sophie tells the reader from Tara’s perspective “forced identity without the right to choose any of it” (111). This scene serves as an example of the general persecution of Kurdish people after the revolution in 1979 as well as the patriarchal violence the women suffer. This intersectional form of discrimination is one we can still observe today, for example in the case of Jina Amini (Toerkell; Radpey). With this scene Sophie underscores the continuity of Kurdish women’s struggle for autonomy—a fight sustained across generations and geographies, as countless women persist in resisting patriarchal structures and state violence (Toerkell; Radpey; Satrapi).
The complex diversity within various Kurdish communities is also represented in this scene, with some Kurdish Muslim men fighting alongside the regime forces against the women’s liberation movement (Sophie 153-154). While in large the Kurdish liberation movements understand themselves as feminist, as can be seen in the use of the Jin, Jiyan, Azadî slogan, the reality of patriarchal societies in which Kurdish women live in still exists. Sophie acknowledges these differences through the inclusion of the diverse actions different Kurdish people are taking in this scene and highlights how different individual aspects of identity inform these actions.
By linking Hanar’s story to the feminist struggle in Iran, Sophie manages to recentre women’s liberation within the wider scope of Kurdish resistance. For many readers the images of the worldwide protests after Jina Amini’s death may be inevitably connected to this scene, bringing the Kurdish participance and importance in this fight, which is often neglected (Toerkell) back into focus. Feminist uproar is present at many points in the book but most in the two scenes which centre Hanar’s long-standing activism in the Women Life Freedom movement. Towards the very end of the novel, Sophie also actively draws the parallel of the feminist Kurdish fights right after the revolution to the aforementioned worldwide protests in the wake of Jina Aminis’ death and the feminist activism many women seek in the diaspora. By once again placing Hanar at the centre of a feminist demonstration the connection between the events shortly after the revolution and the current events becomes clear (Sophie 297-299). She brings together the political events in Oslo and the political events in Iran and Kurdistan through this story
By linking Hanar’s story to the feminist struggle in Iran, Sophie manages to recentre women’s liberation within the wider scope of Kurdish resistance. For many readers the images of the worldwide protests after Jina Amini’s death may be inevitably connected to this scene, bringing the Kurdish participance and importance in this fight, which is often neglected (Toerkell) back into focus. Feminist uproar is present at many points in the book but most in the two scenes which centre Hanar’s long-standing activism in the Women Life Freedom movement. Towards the very end of the novel, Sophie also actively draws the parallel of the feminist Kurdish fights right after the revolution to the aforementioned worldwide protests in the wake of Jina Aminis’ death and the feminist activism many women seek in the diaspora. By once again placing Hanar at the centre of a feminist demonstration the connection between the events shortly after the revolution and the current events becomes clear (Sophie 297-299). She brings together the political events in Oslo and the political events in Iran and Kurdistan through this story
Within the novel’s narrative arch, we have an interesting opposition between the role of Mahgoli and Hanar and many of the men in the story, especially Hiwa. Mahgoli is a feminine community leader, opposing traditional gender roles in the way she organizes and gathers people around her (Sophie 140-145). She acts as spiritual guidance for members of her community and as a healer when they are faced with hardship (Sophie 40-41). Hanar also takes the position of a guiding force and confidant (Sophie 90-92). Additionally, they are both an active part of Kurdish resistance (Sophie 124-125, 144- 145, 219), whereas Hiwa is characterized throughout more akin to a coward and a follower and not necessarily as a leader (Sophie 90, 240-243). This, of course, does not mean that he has not experienced suffering and pain, but he works very differently with what he has than Hanar or Mahgoli.
In this scene this is represented as well how Hanar is an active participant in the demonstration, while Hiwa is an onlooker who does not engage even when the women are violently assaulted (Sophie 154). Portraying these three characters so distinctly different paints a powerful image of female action and male passivity and provides a nuanced critique of patriarchal complicity while centring women as agents of resistance and transformation. It ties together the different stages of feminist uprising in Iran and gives notice to the different motives people may have to participate, be it general feminist resistance or the Kurdish women’s fight against intersectional oppression. Sophie also ties these events to current political developments and makes clear the connection between what is happening today and what happened right after the revolution.
To connect diverse Kurdish experiences and make them more mutually intelligible in the diaspora and the Kurdish regions, Sophie employs many different methods and explores a host of different themes. Overall, the novel unites the numerous aspects of identity, memory and resistance without using Kurdish nationalism as the guiding force of unity. One of the more salient dimensions of Kurdish identity that emerges is the amount of variety of perspectives and the individuality within a broader collective identity. The reader has the chance to encounter many different Kurdish characters, both in the European diaspora and in Kurdistan, characters of many different political affiliations and personal experience and world view. The collective identity emerges as not a monolithic one, as one might think at first, rather it appears to be shaped by the interplay of different aspects that make up the self. The different perspectives arise from the different lives and contexts the characters inhabit. Sophie achieves a multilayered understanding of Kurdish people; she successfully highlights the differences and counters the idea of a monolithic people with the singular goal of statehood
And yet, despite this diversity, many aspects emerge which unite the different views and bind the characters together in a sense of collective belonging. These themes are the same ones which frequently emerge in Kurdish literature – persecution through state actors, the struggle for political representation and the acts of resistance, both collective and individual, that emerge from oppression. Through employing these themes, Sophie manages to reassert the resilience and strength of the Kurdish community while highlighting the brutality they experienced in Iran before and after the revolution. The resistance is characterized not only as political action but as a deeply cultural and emotional process rooted in memory and the need to preserve cultural practices and ways of living for the future. In this the novel suggests that collective identity is rooted not only in sentiments like nationality, nationalism or political unity but in the capacity to adapt, to work together despite differences and relying on memory and shared history to bridge the gaps. Through emphasizing both the fragmentation as well as the unity, Sophie captures lived realties of a people scattered across borders and countries bound by collective remembrance and a will to aspire to freedom.
This willingness to fight appears especially in the way Mahgoli, Hanar and Tara resist against the oppression they suffer, against the onslaught of grief and pain. Sophie weaves together the biographies of these women in a manner that emphasizes community and the sentiment of being stronger together. While they all have individual stories, at many important points they come together or experience them together. Ultimately, they form a powerful trio coming together in hard times, being vulnerable in front of the other when they cannot be to outsiders. Tara manages to be at peace with her pain after all the hardship she endured. Through the action the women take Tara gains a renewed sense of herself, of her identity and in the end does not remain helpless, unable to do anything but flee. Through the memory she has preserved of her childhood she is able to regain power over her life and become self-determined again. Being alone in Norway is mitigated by instances of togetherness as well as memory of community in Kurdistan. Sophie employs memory to connect the past, future and present of the characters, especially Tara, and uses it to make meaning of events which transpire in the present but are rooted in the past
Apart from using memory in such a meaningful way, the novel itself constitutes a part of cultural memory, of Kurdish cultural memory in general but specifically of diasporic Kurdish cultural memory. Sophie adds a significant contribution to a field of literature which is simultaneously unique and universal. The themes of wanting to belong, striving for better understanding of one’s own past and trying to find one’s place in an everchanging world are very common, relatable to most readers. The special case of the Kurdish diaspora is quite unique, as it pertains to only a relatively small number of people. She manages to embed her story in historic events in an authentic manner, allowing her to broadcast these specific, individual struggles to a broader audience. At the same time, she adds words, descriptions and cultural practices specific enough to make them available only to a certain audience, allowing a different reading depending on the reader’s involvement in Kurdish culture, history, language. While she focuses on the character’s pain and loss and with that stays in line with the common themes in Kurdish literature, she paints a picture of a very diverse Kurdish society, both in Kurdistan and in the diaspora. She refuses a homogenous representation and includes diverse perspectives and understandings through including Kurdish people of different gender identities, ages and with varying degrees of connection to Kurdish region in Iran.
Sophie examines the intricacies of Tara’s grief, about her identity in Kurdistan as a child, her identity as a woman, wife and mother, as a victim of political and state persecution as well as a victim of sexual harassment. But she does not focus solely on the tragic events but allows the character to emerge from them with a renewed and changed outlook on life. She achieves this through remembering and going forward with the memory, not forgetting but still moving on. Tara learns from her community, from her family and ultimately she uses the memory of her hardship to move forward; “We can learn from those wounds, or we can keep being wounded and use the wounds as excuses not to use our intelligence and cleverness and forever remain victims” (Sophie 40-41). She uses the spirit for collective as well as individual action and becomes empowered through them. Another remarkable effort Sophie makes is the connection between past and present not only through characters’memory but also through the parallels she draws between events. This elegantly ties together the Kurdish women’s liberation efforts and the more globalized and broader women’s liberation movements today. The death of Jina Amini and the importance of it for many women, no matter the ethnic or religious identity, become incredibly obvious. While making the globality of this movement apparent, Sophie succeeds in centring the importance of Kurdish women in the historic as well as the current movements.
Surely there are many more aspects one could focus on like an in depth analysis of the feminist aspects or the themes of abuse and patriarchy with a wealth of options for interpretation of this novel which would make great topics for further research, but the themes of identity and finding oneself through memory and community while being away from the community are more than evident.
Traditionally, much of the Kurdish literature and especially the novels paint a more homogenous picture of Kurdishness, often centred around the statelessness, the strive for freedom and only more recently some have come to deal with Kurdish identity in the diaspora and the specific challenges this holds. The novel is a powerful connection between Kurdish life in Europe and in Kurdistan, it is an emotional and careful deliberation of what it can mean to be a woman in a patriarchal society and how community and memory help shape us. It plays with the different perspectives to provide a detailed and multifaceted idea of the Kurdish community in Iran and in Europe and helps to make the heterogeneous experiences of different Kurdish people understandable. Ultimately, Sophie intricately weaves together themes of identity, memory, and resistance to illuminate the complex realities of Kurdish life both in Kurdistan and beyond its borders.
