Mirroring selves: Emotions, Living poetry and the Appropriation of religious practice in the Islamic Republic of Iran

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Mirroring selves:

Emotions, living poetry and the appropriation of religious practice in the Islamic

Republic of Iran

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Mirroring selves: emotions, living poetry and the appropriation of religious practice in the Islamic Republic of Iran

Master thesis Research Master Social Sciences. University of Amsterdam.

Date of submission: June 26, 2020 Written by Laura B. Muns (10910905)

Supervisor: dr. J.A. McBrien Second reader: dr. E.A.V Matthies Boon

Plagiarism declaration: “I have read and understood the UvA rules regarding fraud and

plagiarism[http://student.uva.nl/binaries/content/assets/studentensites/uvastudentensite/nl/az/regelingenenreglementen/frau dee nplagiaatregeling2010.pdf?1283201371000]. I declare that this written work is entirely my own, that I have carefully and correctly stated all the sources I have used, and that I have quoted according to the rules. I have not previously submitted this assignment, in this or modified version, for another subject or as part of another assignment."

Front photo: a girl reads from the Divan-e Hafez at the tomb of Hafez in the city of Shiraz, Iran. (photo taken September 2019)

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Abstract

In Iran poetry is regarded as an important emotional heritage and artform that is valued by Iranians from all spheres of society. However, not all Iranians read and engage emotionally with poetry on the same level. This thesis is a result of four months of research among Iranian youth who regard poetry as an important emotional aspect of their daily lives and use it as a tool to find answers to existential questions. By asking _{‘why do young Iranians value and practice the} reading, writing and reciting of both classical and contemporary poetry and how is this connected to their emotional lives’, a nuanced understanding is gained into their subjective and emotional lifeworlds. The stories that will be presented in this thesis provide insight into the everyday, human consequences of persistent uncertainty as a result of domestic and international (political) tensions and how responses to such circumstances are deeply shaped by cultural and socio-political structures in society. In the lives of young Iranians, feelings of hopelessness, “being stuck” and anomie are highly present and turning to poetry is part of a search for psychological strength. By reading poetry verses I argue that my interlocutors are actively coping with and transforming experiences of uncertainty, hopelessness, trauma, and anomie. Simultaneously poetry shapes appropriations of religious morality and piety and, ultimately, perceptions of the self and others.

Keywords: _{coping, Persian poetry, lived religion, transmission of religious knowledge,}

uncertainty, everyday suffering, the construction of self, Iran

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Acknowledgements

This thesis would have never been written without all the people that contributed to it. I would like to thank all my friends and interlocutors who trusted me with their life stories and welcomed me into their homes; Korosh and Tooran, Farzad, Malihe, Soheila, Meesha, Soroush, Milad and Zana, thank you for your hospitality and honesty. I especially want to thank the University of Tehran for the opportunity to conduct research in Iran. Mr. Eskandari for ensuring my research stay and answering to all my needs and my supervisor Mehrdad Arabestani at the University of Tehran for meeting with me and listening to my material and providing me with valuable contextual knowledge about Iran. Ester, thank you for conducting and translating interviews together with me. Amir, your deep knowledge about religion and Iran's history has helped me immensely in interpreting my material. I want to thank Maral for welcoming me inside her house in Tehran, for her delicious cooking and for putting up with me for several months. And my beautiful and wise friend Leila for sharing her deep love for poetry with me and believing that, while the flight may be difficult, it will be worth it someday. I will never forget our talks and I am sure we will have many in the future. I thank my supervisor Julie McBrien for her critical feedback and positivity and for giving me the opportunity to write my thesis without being bound by a word limit. I owe my parents for their unconditional confidence and support and my partner Vincent Saks for putting up with my insecurities, fears and doubts and his admirable positive attitude at all times.

I deeply thank the country of Iran that stole my heart three years ago with its beautiful architecture, poetry, literature, and incredibly welcoming people. I would need much more time and words to describe the nuances that are involved in taking Iran as a subject of study, which unfortunately is an impossible undertaking for a master thesis. Understanding Iran in all its diversity and complexity is a task that requires much more than a four-month research trip. At the time of writing, on top of all other difficulties, Iran is now facing the Corona pandemic which puts high pressure on its already weak economy and has destroyed the fragile tourism sector completely. My heart goes out to the incredibly strong and resilient Iranian people that have so much kindness and love in their hearts despite so many hardships. I am sure we will meet again in better times.

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On poems and poets

The poems (and sometimes the translations) in this thesis are a reflection of the subjective interpretations of my interlocutors and often different from the interpretations found in literature studies.

The poets that are referred to in this thesis are the following:

Abul-Qâsem Ferdowsi Tusi (Ferdowsi): 940-1020 Omar Khayyam (Khayyam): 1048-1131

Farid ad-Din Attar (Attar of Nishapur or Attar): 1145-1220 Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi (Molana): 1207-1273

Abu-Mohammad Muslih al-Din Shirazi (Saadi Shirazi or Saadi): 1210-1291 Shams ud-Din Muhammad Hafez-e Shirazi (Hafez): 1315-1390

Forough Farrokhzad (1934-1967) Ahmad Shamlu (1925-2000) Hushang Ebtehaj (1928) Akhavan Saless (1929-1990)

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Thirty Birds

All the birds in the world had gathered to discuss who their leader

should be as they were without and felt deeply lost. The hoopoe, the

wisest bird of all, proposed to go on a journey in search of a mythical bird, the _{Simurgh. He believed that this creature would be able to solve}1

all their problems and was willing to be their king. The hoopoe knew the

Simurghs _{whereabouts at the edge of Mt. Qaf but the journey there was}

far from easy. There are seven valleys to cross before arriving all with

their own difficulties and obstacles. Many birds were in doubt and felt

fear of undertaking this long and difficult journey. Some were unsure

whether this mythical bird would even really exist. When the hoopoe

told them about the obstacles they would have to face during their

journey, some birds became so frightened that they immediately fell out

of the sky and died. The rest decided to trust the hoopoe and to take

flight. During the long journey across seven valleys they endured many difficulties and some died from exhaustion. Others were defeated by

hunger or fear. Thirty birds eventually reached the seventh valley where

they expected to finally meet the _{Simurgh. There at Mt. Qaf, the truth}

was revealed to them in the form of a huge mirror. The thirty birds that

survived the journey and had the persistence and strength to continue on

their flight, they themselves were the _Simurgh _{(lit. si-murgh meaning}

“thirty _{(si) birds (murgh) in Persian).}

In 1177, Attar of Nishapur beautifully narrated in his _Conference

of the Birds_{, a poem of 210 verses, a story of thirty birds who finally}

find themselves after a long and agonizing journey. When Attar writes

“_{to go beyond all knowledge is to find / that comprehension which}

eludes the mind. And you can never gain the longed-for goal / until you first outsoar both flesh and soul”, we understand that it is impossible to

know what struggles one must face on the journey to finally see the

truth, unless we take flight ourselves. 2

1_{A bird-like creature in ancient Persian mythology.}

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Chapter 1 Introduction and context

The crowded bazaar of the immense _{Naqsh-e Jahan}_{square in Isfahan, the largest city in central} Iran, is lined with numerous shops selling handicrafts, spices, and everything else one might wish for. The sound of craftsmen working, people chatting, laughing, bargaining and the smell of fresh spices make the atmosphere mesmerizing. The bazaar soon turns into a maze of small lanes where one can get lost easily. But there is no need to worry as a helping hand of a kind stranger or a new friend is never far away; people will send you a warm smile and wholeheartedly welcome you to their country, shop owners offer you tea without expecting you to buy anything and youngsters approach you to practice their English, strike up a conversation about politics or just to take a quick selfie. During the summer months the heat outside is often unbearable and after strolling through the bazaar taking a rest sheltered from the sun in one of the cafe's with a cold _sharbat_{lemonade is a great way to pass the afternoon. Two years ago, on my second visit to} this complex country with its tragic past and present, I ended up talking in a cafe hidden between the small shops of the _{Naqsh-e Jahan bazaar with a young man called Farzad.}

Farzad, a shy 22-year-old student, had been learning German for three years to increase his chances of being accepted to the University of Wuppertal, Germany. He wished to continue his studies abroad like so many Iranians desire. During our conversation he held a small book in his hands; a collection of poems written by the contemporary Iranian poet Janety Hussein. I asked him to recite a poem for me and so he did, reciting it in Farsi. I could then of course not understand a single word of it, but from the way his face changed while he recited the verse I understood more about what this poem set in motion than words could ever convey; his eyes lightened and a smile curled around his mouth as he recited the poem with a strong and proud voice. When I left the cafe I thought about Farzad and how he kept the book of Janety with him as if it was the most precious thing he owned.

Because of my previous visits to Iran, I already knew the important role of Persian poetry in Iranian society. I had witnessed men, women and children touch the marble gravestone of the 8th-century poet Hafez in Shiraz and wipe away their tears, noticed people selling verses of

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poetry on the streets and went on a road trip along the Persian gulf where our driver listened to a recital of Persian poetry for four hours straight. After I had met Farzad, I became curious to understand more about what poetry brought to young Iranians in their daily lives. Because Persian poetry has such an important place in history as well as contemporary Iran, it seemed to me that the subjective interpretation of poetry verses could serve as a useful lens to gain a nuanced understanding of the emotional lifeworlds of young urban Iranians.

Since ninety percent of Iranians are officially born as Shi’ite Muslims, except for the recognized minorities, the Muslim identity is an important part of Iranian personhood, even when it becomes rejected. Much of the classical Persian poetry is rooted in the tradition of 3 Sufism, which makes poetry a particularly interesting source to gain an understanding of the emotional aspects of religion in a country wherein religion is politically appropriated by an authoritarian state. Taking this into consideration, two years later I started my fieldwork in Iran by asking the following question:_{why do young Iranians value and practice the reading, writing,} and reciting of both classical and contemporary poetry and how is this connected to their emotional and religious lives_{. This thesis aims to answer this question.}

Noteworthy is that while Persian poetry has been studied thoroughly in the field of literature studies, very few studies are concerned with Persian poetry from an anthropological point of view (Olszewska, 2015; Manoukian, 2015). There is, as far as I know, no research to be found that regards poetry as an important part of the lives of young urban Iranians living in Iran. Most anthropological studies into Iranian youth culture focus on politicized and popularized cultural and social phenomena that have a revolutionary or increasingly ‘western’ character (Olszewska, 2015:9). These include, among others the use of social media by Iranian youth (Cohen, 2006), underground rock bands and rap culture (Nooshin, 2005; Johnston, 2008), defying the Islamic rules by pushing the boundaries of fashion (Amila, 2018) and provocative Iranian cinema (Tapper, 2002). Observing this trend in the anthropology of Iran, Zuzanna Olszewska (2013:842) writes that often studies into Iranian urban youth culture have “a strong tendency to focus on social phenomena that are interpreted as acts of resistance to and rebellion against the political establishment and the moral order it espouses”. In a context that is

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characterized by conflict, violence, and uncertainty such as Iran, often researchers are lured to the dramatical and sensational and that which is directly ‘visible’ and the ‘everyday’ becomes neglected (Malinowski, 1935:462; Das, 2006; Martin, 2007:741). Such a narrow focus on phenomena that defy the Iranian political environment comes at the expense of understanding more ‘mundane’ and less subversive phenomena such as literature and poetry. As a result “contemporary Persian poetry has been given little to no attention outside of Iran and Afghanistan” (2015:9).

Based upon four months of fieldwork between September 2019 and January 2020, this thesis is concerned with the everyday life of my interlocutors and how they make sense of the uncertainty and conflict that characterizes both the historical and present circumstances of their country. I will illustrate how the difficulties of daily life become woven into newly imagined futures and perceptions of the self. By engaging with poetry, I argue that my interlocutors are actively coping with and transforming emotional experiences such as uncertainty, hopelessness, trauma, and anomie. Simultaneously poetry shapes perceptions of the self and others. While the subject of Persian poetry has not been given much attention outside the field of literature studies, taking poetry as a subject of inquiry among Iranian youth has proved to be an interesting endeavor. The subjective interpretations of the verses made by my interlocutors present a nuanced insight into the emotional experience of living in the Islamic Republic beyond the obvious and ‘visible’ political framework of oppression, resistance, and defiance. In addition, my research shows that poetic concepts and verses, some of which are almost eight hundred years old, gain new meanings and purposes in contemporary Iran.

Before I move on to an illustration of the specific role of poetry in Iranian society, it is first important to outline the way in which poetry has been taken up as a subject of study in the field of anthropology. I have been inspired by these studies and have partly drawn on their ethnographic findings in interpreting my own material.

1.1. Poetry in anthropological research

In his essay _{The Culture in Poetry and the Poetry in Culture (1996) Paul Friedrich argues that} poetry can serve as a way of obtaining privileged access into the subjective lifeworlds of people.

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He writes that poems “can constitute an incredibly swift and sensitive entryway” into the culture of a specific society (ibid.:39). There are a handful of anthropological studies that focus on poetry as a cultural and social practice, many of them taking place in Middle Eastern and Islamic societies. I was moved to take up poetry as a subject of study myself by a book that was part of the first-year curriculum of my anthropology studies and left a deep impression on me. The ethnography _{Veiled Sentiments (2016[1989]) written by Abu-Lughod beautifully unfolds the} power that poetry holds to construct a separate emotional discourse in Bedouin society. Among the Awlad Ali, poetry is used as a device to subtly unveil those emotions and sentiments that are normally unaccepted. Also, though interpreting the poetry of her interlocutors Abu-Lughod provides a nuanced insight into the emotional daily lives of the people that live in the community. As such an insight is gained on both the discourse _{on emotions in Bedouin society} as well as the personal discourse _of_{emotions belonging to the women that Abu-Lughod studies} (Lutz and Abu-Lughod,1990:10). In my research, I similarly aim to uncover both discourses through taking on Persian poetry as a subject of study in the lives of young Iranians.

Similar to Abu Lughod's book other anthropological studies engage with oral poetry in rural and tribal community contexts (Meeker,1979; Edwards,1986; Abu-lughod, 2016 [1986]; Caton, 1990). While these studies all convey a different message and define the role of poetry in a specific way, they all illustrate that poetry cannot be understood purely in relation to itself and emphasize the embeddedness of its purpose within the political and social structures of a specific society or community. Caton (1990:21-22) defines oral poetry as a socio-cultural practice deeply embedded within sociopolitical and cultural aspects of Yemeni tribal society. He writes that “poetry in tribal Yemen is both the creation of art and the production of social and political realities in the same act of composition” (1990:21-22). Along similar lines, in his research into the use of oral poetry in a Bedouin community Meeker (1979) argues that through reciting poetry verses in public, political hierarchies are confirmed and propagated. As such poetry serves as a vehicle to communicate and illuminate uncertain relationships within society. In turn, in his article on the impact of Afghan migration on Pashtun tribal relations in Pakistan, Edwards states that “the poets’ role is to make present and explicit the individual's relationship to his past and his future” (1986:506 as cited in Olszewska, 2015:11). These ethnographic studies illustrate that

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how a poem acquires its meaning and conveys its message, is highly dependent on the specific circumstances wherein the verse is recited or listened to (Olszewska, 2015:11).

The way in which poetry is deeply embedded in social and political structures of society is also recognizable in Abu-Lughod's work. In addition her insights exemplify that, within the poetic discourse of the Bedouin society she studies, another cultural script can be found; one that is accepted, prominent and well known but at the same time criticizes and challenges the dominant narrative in the Awlad Ali community (2016[1989]:256). As part of the code of honor, the Awlad Ali women must refrain from showing their emotions in public at all times. However, they still struggle with the harsh realities of their daily lives. Abu-Lughod observed that reciting short poems (_{ghinnawas) provides women with an accepted vehicle to express those sentiments} and emotions which otherwise would be in jeopardy with the social system and the code of honor. Through poetry, sentiments can be remembered and communicated in an accepted way (ibid.).

The counter-normative, emotional discourse that poetry holds in society can also be identified in Suzanna Olszewska’s ethnography (2015) in which she takes on the role of reading and writing Persian poetry among a circle of Afghan poets living in Iran. She states that poetry equips her interlocutors with a socially accepted vehicle for letting out their _{dard-e daruni} (hearts pain) and for expressing the difficulties of living in exile. As this thesis will also convey, in Persianate culture and tradition it is not common to show one’s inner and emotional self to the world and stoicism and patience in times of difficulty and distress is valued (Olszewska, 2015:223). Poetry serves for Afghan immigrants in Iran as “a world in which they can take shelter, and free themselves from the difficult moments of exile; [...] it is an opportunity for them to speak their own minds, or to find their own thoughts in the words of other poets they read” (ibid.). Olszewska not only regards writing poetry as an effective tool for letting out emotions normally not expressed to others but also as an important instrument to “formulate, express, and consolidate certain kinds of persons and ideas of personhood” (ibid.:6).

Another example of how poetry influences personhood, the self and others in a Muslim society is the ethnography by Marsden (2005). He _{illustrates that in the Pakistani village of} Chitral ideas about what a good Muslim life entails, partly results from the strong influence of

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Persian Sufi poetry (ibid.:242)_{. Poetry provides Chitral Muslims with an additional intellectual} and emotionalsource for the transmission of religious and moral knowledge . The conclusions of these few ethnographic studies into the use of poetry in Islamic societies are versatile. Most of them are concerned with the use of poetry in small Middle Eastern communities or focus extensively on the experiences of refugees living in exile. My research is different from all of these studies since I am concerned with urban Iranian youth living in contemporary Iran and my subject of study is not oral poetry or self-composed verses but rather the reading of existent poems.

As I attempt to understand the place of poetry in the lives of my interlocutors, two arguments from the anthropological studies of poetry in Islamic societies have served as guideposts for the analysis of my data. First, whether they are oral, self-composed, or existent verses the function of poetry in a specific society must be understood within the sociopolitical context in which it is written, listened to, or read. And second, poetry holds the potential to create a ‘counter-normative’ discourse of knowledge in which the reader learns about what cannot, or is not allowed to be seen immediately (Zittoun, 2017:89; Abu-Lughod, 2016 [1986]). As the ethnographies of Abu-Lughod, Marsden, and Olszewska illustrate, this discourse can be regarded as challenging and criticizing the more dominant narratives in society in a culturally accepted way. Poetry thus can convey messages that are otherwise suppressed or veiled. Moreover, it can serve as a source of knowledge that shapes perceptions of self.

1.2. Poetry in Iran

For anyone traveling to Iran it is easy to notice that poetry is an important part of Iran's history as well as contemporary society. In cities among the many murals of martyrs that died during the Iran-Iraq war poems too are narrated through beautiful wall paintings. In addition to street names that refer to the Islamic Revolution are metro stations and squares that have been named after famous poets. Iranians are made aware of their poetic heritage from a very young age . Many people told me they remembered their family reciting poetry to them when they were “too small to even know their own name”. Iranian children collectively learn to interpret poetry in primary school and play games with verses. One goes like this – the first child recites a verse, the second must then use the last letter of the first child’s poem to recite another verse, and so it goes on. All

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is done from memory.

Poets such as Hafez (1315–1319), Saadi (1210–1294), and Khayyam (1048–1131) are honored and remembered by visiting their tombs. These places have a strong tradition of pilgrimage (_{ziarat kardan). When visiting such a tomb, the custom is to place one hand on the} grave and recite a prayer. This is also done when a relative dies or when shrines of Shi’ite imams or _{Imamzadeh are visited. Surrounded by beautiful gardens and water fountains, these places} communicate the importance of the poets for Iranian culture and society even to those who don't have much affinity with poetry (Manoukian, 2012:74). During important holidays, such as nowruz (the Iranian new year) and_{yalda (solstice), poetry is traditionally read with family and} friends. On those days, people often take a _{fal (divination based on a random poem selected from} the book of Hafez) to consult the poet on a personal matter or to gain a glimpse of what the new year will bring; it is a tradition that goes back hundreds of years. Poetry has such an important place in Iranian society and culture that Seyed-Gohrab (in Karimi-Hakkak, 2019:13) even expresses that “if Persian culture is the body of Persian-speaking peoples, poetry is the soul, the stamina, and the aura”. This is by no means an exaggeration. However, it should be understood in the context of the sociopolitical history of Iranian culture and language.

Under the occupation of Muslim Arabs in the 7th century, worshippers of the Zoroastrian faith were persecuted in Persia. Their religious books were burned and, as Arabic was promoted as the new national language, the Persian language became suppressed. Ferdowsi’s (940–1020AD) epic poem _{Shah Nameh (The Book of Kings) has played a central role in the} survival of the Persian language; it is completely written in Modern Persian without any loanwords from Arabic or other foreign languages. In 50,000 verses the poem narrates the mythical history of the Persian empire from the day the world was created, until the invasion of the Muslim Arabs in 633 AD (Seyed-Gohrab in Karimi-Hakkak, 2019:13). Its message is timeless and communicates values such as humanity, faith, courage, endurance, and the victory of light over darkness. Today the epic poem is still of high influence and continues to be taught, recited, and studied in contemporary Iran.

The role of poetry throughout Iranian history has been largely a political one; poetry served as a political as well as social and religious vehicle (Seyed Gohrab in Karimi-Hakkak, 2019:13-14). For example, the 14th century poet Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz (Hafez)

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(1310–1390) is said to have been a poet of the court of Shah Abu Ishaq. His lyrical poems are 4

mostly about (divine) love and mysticism, but also contain well disguised criticism of society and religious hypocrisy. His verses contain various metaphors which makes it possible to read and interpret them in many different ways. It is believed that Hafez’s lyrical _{ghazals served as a} vehicle to communicate what could not be said and his poetry is often interpreted as a subtle satirical and ironic critique of (religious) establishments (Farjami, 2017:14). 56

Taking a jump through time, the constitutional revolution in Iran (1905 - 1911) led to the development of diverse newspapers and magazines which provided fertile soil for the emergence of a new generation of poets. Nima Yushij (1895–1960) is regarded as ‘the father of contemporary poetry’ and introduced a new way of composing poems (Philsooph, 2009:100; Hakkak & Talattof, 2004:30). Poets that followed this new tradition wrote in blank verse as opposed to the lyrical ghazal. Their focus shifted from writing about mysticism, divine love and religion towards subjects such as Iranian society in times of turmoil, revolutions and ‘earthly’ love (_{eshq-e zamini). Some of these contemporary poets more openly called for standing up} against oppression and fighting for freedom which led to their verses being censored, both before and after the revolution of 1979, and in some cases the arrest of poets.

In Iran poetry is still very much intertwined with politics. Many people commemorate the time before the revolution by referring to poetry. Some people told me that the poets are “the real prophets”, which obviously is a very significant political statement given Iran's current religious and political climate. In addition, Iran's government has made active efforts to connect the poetic heritage with the values and ideals of the Islamic Republic. Directly after the Islamic Revolution the ruling authorities desired to censor or even forbid the poetry of Hafez, but his enormous popularity among both the Iranian people as well as the clergy made that an impossible goal to pursue. Because his poems are multi-layered and can be read in various ways, their message has

4_{In the 14th century AD the Inju’ids, a Shi’ite dynasty of Mongol origin ruled over Shiraz and Isfahan} (_{http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/inju-dynasty accessed online 17 june 2020).}

5_{Hafiz's satire is communicated through irony and sarcasm and he often places himself among the sinners} he voices his critique on. One of the most popular features of Hafiz's poems is the mocking attitude he takes towards the pretenders of religious devoutness: "the seminary scholar was drunk yesterday and made a ruling/that wine is forbidden, but not so bad as [dipping into] the funds of religious endowments” ( _faqih-e madrasa di mast bud o fatwā dād/ke mey ḥarām wali beh ze māl-e awqāf ast ). However, reading Hafiz’s poetry is thought to be a highly subjective endeavor and “a mirror of the views of his interpreters”. Therefore either_{mast (wine) can be understood as a divine and mystical source of love, as well as nothing} else than mundane wine made of grapes (Source: _{www.iranicaonline.org/articles/hafez-i. Accessed on 4} March, 2020)

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now become interpreted by the government in a way that is in line with the values and goals of the republic. For example, during the Iran-Iraq war (1980-1988) “concepts and metaphors from classical Persian mysticism were used to mobilize young people to go to the frontlines and to offer their lives” (Seyed-Ghorab, 2012:248). Furthermore the Iranian government openly sponsors and promotes so-called pro-ideology poets that write about topics that are connected with the values that the republic propagates. In present day Iran many contemporary poets have served time in prison, or are still doing time, for publishing poems that contain criticism of the establishment. As such reading poetry and interpreting the verses in a specific way as well as writing verses for publication, can be a highly political engagement with possible consequences.

Having survived revolutions and wars, poetry still holds an important place in Iranian history as well as in contemporary Iranian society. Verses that are around for six to eight hundred years still contain concepts and metaphors that convey knowledge over values and norms and provide guidelines for life (Manoukian, 2012:5). As illustrated, engaging with poetry is a rule rather than an exception among Iranians. Even if they only read poetry verses on important holidays, cherish it as a childhood memory, use it to emphasize their ‘Iranianness’ or to voice some resistance towards the Islamic Republic, many Iranians have an emotional bond with poetry which is nurtured from a young age (Manoukian, 2012:49).

Despite the general importance of poetry in Iranian society, my interlocutors often told me that they felt as if they engaged with verses in a different way than others around them. For my interlocutors poetry is not merely regarded as an emotional heritage or a way to remember and express their ‘Iranianness’. It rather serves as a key tool in their search for answers to existential questions and is an effective way of coping with the difficulties of life.

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Left: A wall mural in Tehran narrating a part of Ferdowsi’s _{Shah Nameh} (Book of Kings) (Photo taken October 2020, Tehran)

Right: A mural in Tehran remembering a martyr that died during the Iran Iraq war (Photo taken August 2018, Tehran)

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People are touching the marble gravestone of Hafez in Shiraz (Photo taken September 2019)

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1.3. The tragedy of Iran

On an early November morning, Zana sent me a picture of multiple books, a notebook, and a dog sleeping next to it. A text message followed: “it’s already morning and still I can't stop reading more from Saadi. I was looking for masterpieces to prepare for you and I should say there is a huge load of concepts waiting for you. Going to bed now. See you tonight”. At 7 PM that same day I rang the doorbell of Zana’s flat in East Tehran, where his mother greeted me warmly at the door. I had met Zana, a shy and humble 24-year-old veterinary student, for the first time four months ago when I had just arrived in Tehran. We took a walk together through a park near the Tabiat bridge and he had told me that he was in the application process for a visa for Switzerland with the help of an Iranian friend who already lived there. While Zana’s mother brought us sweet tea and fruit, we took a seat on the couch in the living room and I asked him if he had any information about his visa application. With a sad smile, he answered: “I got rejected again. Every time I paid for translating documents for the application process. And now, I cannot even apply for a visa anymore for three years, I have to wait. It is hopeless”. While he poured the tea and put some grapes and an apple on my plate, he continued: “I need to finish my master thesis now but I cannot make myself do it. Why should I? There is no future here and I’m empty, all my energy is gone. We cannot do anything to change the situation. All we can do is wait, for nothing. I don’t have any spirit or hope left”.

The story of Zana was one out of many. Of course each of my interlocutors had their own individual story, however, what they all had in common was a persistent lack of hope for the future. Many of them described long-lasting experiences of feeling “empty” ( _{pooch), “frustrated”} (_{sarkhorde), and depression (afsordegi). One interlocutor told me that an “inner sadness”} (_{gham-e darooni) had unconsciously crept under his skin and become a part of him. My} interlocutors frequently expressed that in Iran there is no prospect for a better future since there are no opportunities for obtaining a job and building a family. Often they stated that they lacked the agency to change their situation and, as one interlocutor told me, all they could do was to “stay calm and wait [for better days]”. These persistent feelings of depression and hopelessness increased after November 15, 2019, when the government announced an increase in gasoline prices up to three hundred percent, sparking outrage all over Iran. Peaceful street protests quickly

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escalated in anti-government rallies; people set fire to banks and government buildings while chanting slogans against the Iranian government. As a bid to contain the protests, the government disconnected internet access throughout Iran for ten days straight. During these violent uprisings, hundreds of Iranians died on the streets and even more were arrested although exact numbers are still unknown.

Iran is a country that is characterized by years of political turmoil and instability. From 1941 to 1979 the Iranian people suffered from an autocratic and hierarchical monarchy under the rule of Reza Shah Pahlavi. His rule was in line with other monarchies throughout history that have always shown complete intolerance towards freedom of expression in fear of losing authority (Faroughy, 1974:9). The repression, violence and inequality that characterized Reza Shah’s reign sparked anger and desire for change among the Iranian people and eventually led to the Islamic Revolution in 1979. With that, Iran became the only theocratic country in the world that installed Twelver Shi’ism as a state religion. After students took over the U.S embassy in Tehran (on November 4, 1979) and held diplomats hostage for 444 days, the United States imposed economic sanctions on the Islamic Republic that have been piling up until 2013; making international trade very difficult and isolating Iran geopolitically. Later some U.S allies7

followed in imposing sanctions against Iran with the purpose of stopping Iran's enrichment of uranium and the influence of Iran's proxies in the Middle East.

When President Rouhani took office in 2013, he promised the Iranian people more economic prosperity by signing the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCOPA, better known as the nuclear deal) between China, the United States, Russia and Europe.When the JCOPA was signed in 2013, thousands of Iranians poured onto the streets celebrating the end of geopolitical isolation and economic instability. During the following years Iran opened up to the world and tourism strengthened, the Iranian currency stabilized and traveling or studying internationally became increasingly accessible for Iranians._{As part of this historic deal, Iran promised to scale} back its nuclear activities in exchange for the lifting of international sanctions, which happened in 2016 with a simultaneous opening of the Iranian market to international trade and investment.

7_{Nikou, S.N., 2019. Timeline of Iran’s Foreign Relations on iranprimer.usip.org.}

https://iranprimer.usip.org/sites/default/files/2018-06/TimelineofIran'sForeignRelationsJune202018.pdf accessed online on 21 June 2020.

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Analysts estimated a two-year period would be needed to give Iran's economy a significant turnaround and thus, consumer prices and unemployment rates remained high (Moghadam, Saidi-Sharouz and Weber, 2018).

While the JCOPA did not provide Iranians with direct concrete changes in their daily lives, it did generate hope for a brighter future for themselves and their country. That brief window of hope closed on May 8, 2018 when U.S. President Donald Trump withdrew the United States from what he called “the worst deal of the century” and re-installed sanctions against Iran in 2019. All aimed to restrict and weaken the Islamic Republic, in reality, the sanctions hit the8 Iranian people the most; prices continue to rise on meat and vegetables and hospitals struggle to obtain medicines. Meanwhile Iran pressured the other signatory countries to live up to their duties that were part of the JCOPA and slowly restarted their nuclear activities, increasing international tensions. In June 2019 two oil tankers were attacked in the Strait of Hormuz; the U.S. directly and without any evidence blamed Iran for the attacks, setting off further diplomatic escalation and increasing threats of war between the two countries. A few days later, an unmanned U.S. drone infiltrated Iranian airspace in the Persian Gulf and was shot down immediately by the Iranian Revolutionary Guards. Upon these escalations, tourists cancelled their trips and the still fragile tourist industry in Iran slowly began to collapse.

I have observed the effect of the collapsing JCOPA and the re-installing of sanctions myself. The cautious optimism that Iranians held despite the difficulties they faced on a daily basis during my visits to Iran in 2017 and 2018 seemed to have completely disappeared when I returned in 2019 to do fieldwork. While a desire to leave the country has been persistent among the majority of Iranians for a longer time (Khosravi, 2015; 2017:5), now that all hope was completely gone, migration was often referred to as the only way out. Whether it were taxi drivers, shop owners, students, guesthouse owners or my friends; almost everyone I spoke, had a desire to migrate abroad. Many young people focus on completing their IELTS, which improves the chance to get a visa for another country and is a requirement to enroll in universities abroad. However due to the sanctions, the international tensions and a currency that is subject to high

8_{Examining Nuclear Negotiations-Iran After Rouhani’s First 100 Days from http://defenddemocracy.} org/testimony/examining-nuclearnegotiations-iran-after-rouhanis-first-100-days. Accessed online on 21 June 2020

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inflation, traveling abroad has become extremely more difficult for Iranians As my conversation with Zana illustrates, people were devastated when they received rejections for visa applications. On the other hand, I also talked to young Iranians that were deeply sad to be accepted at foreign universities but felt they were forced to migrate because no other options were left for them in Iran. They expressed fears about being separated from their families and their country. Others told me stories about their friends living abroad that were miserable because they somehow could not settle there, or were not able to visit their families in Iran due to geopolitical tensions or fear for arrest at the airport.

Living in Iran means living in a state of “radical uncertainty”. The concept refers to the way in which a society is characterized by feelings of unpredictability and uncertainty (Moodie, 2010: 15). The term has been used to understand everyday life in countries that are neither at war nor in a post-conflict state of peace-building or lasting safety and stability (Moodie, 2010; Penglase, 2014:21). Iran can be identified as such because it has faced conflict and geopolitical tensions for many years, but can still be considered safe and politically stable. Daily life is characterized by a sense of ‘not knowing’; a continuing spiral of incidental state violence and oppression, economic insecurity and complex social rules leads to the “collapse of the family”, massive migration and persistent feelings of uncertainty about both the present and the future among Iranian youth (Moodie, 2010:15; Khosravi, 2017:27). In addition, social interaction is very complex and guided by ambiguous rules and regulations. The radical uncertainty that characterizes all spheres of Iranian society leads to experiences of social suffering, existential insecurity, alienation and anomie (ibid.). The stories that will be presented in this thesis provide insight into the everyday, human consequences of domestic and international (political) tensions and how responses to such circumstances are deeply shaped by cultural and socio-political structures in society.

After I have reflected on my methodology, ethics and positionality in the field I will illustrate throughout three interconnected chapters how poetry helps my interlocutors cope with the difficulties in their lives and weave their experiences into newly imagined perceptions of self, possibilities and imagined futures. The ethnographic stories in this thesis will provide a nuanced view on the lives of young Iranians that are influenced by structural, both international and

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domestic, circumstances and tensions. Throughout all chapters it will become evident that my interlocutors perceive themselves as different from others in Iranian society. They identify themselves with poems and poets, use poetry to understand themselves better and find comfort and recognition in the verses. I examine how poetry can be seen as a historically rooted and locally produced script of trusted knowledge and morality that provides a counter-discourse to the dominant narrative on both emotions, personhood and religion that the Islamic Republic propagates. Moreover, I illustrate how interpretations of poetry verses are deeply subjective and embedded within the specific context of Iranian society and argue that poetry can be regarded as an active tool for self care that shapes the individual, inner self.

The photo that Zana sent me early in the morning. It shows a book of Saadi and his dog sleeping next to it. (November 26, 2020)

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Chapter 2 Methodology, ethics and reflections on positionality

During my four months of fieldwork, I conducted 28 formal interviews with 23 young Iranians between 20 and 35 years old living in Isfahan, Shiraz and Tehran. Some of them I met one time for coffee and others I talked to several times and became my friends. With all of them, I had in-depth conversations that often lasted well over two hours. During my time in Iran I met with my supervisor, anthropologist Mehrdad Arabestani, multiple times at the University of Tehran. He mostly helped me to develop an understanding of the complexities that characterize Iranian society and helped me to interpret my material in the field.

I met interlocutors often by chance; on the train, at graves of poets, through existing friends, at the university, while walking on the streets or attracting their attention by reading a book of Hafez in a park. The interviews I conducted were often very intensive; my interlocutors told me stories not only about poetry but also about their personal lives and with me listening rather than continuously asking questions. My method of interviewing was mostly informal and unstructured and I remained open for topics that would emerge during the conversations. While doing fieldwork I tried to identify emerging themes from the data which then informed the interviews that were yet to be conducted (Roulston, 2012:2). I never made notes during conversations as I felt that it interfered with my ability to maintain eye contact and my listening abilities; this could negatively influence trustful interaction. Sometimes I recorded the interview, always with verbal consent, and deleted it directly after. Knowing I could listen to the interview later enabled me to really be present in the moment and to listen to my interlocutor without focusing on finding relevant material for my research. 9

I have conducted twenty four interviews in English and four in Persian with the help of a translator. Of course much is lost in translation and also because my interlocutors were often not fluent in English, conducting interviews in English was far from ideal. Due to language difficulties and sometimes unclear answers or conversations, I often listened to and transcribed

9_{How I dealt with the recorded interviews and the protection of my interlocutors in the} authoritarian context of Iran I will elaborate on in a later section.

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interviews directly after I conducted them. Then I contacted my interlocutors for a second interview or just a follow-up coffee where I could ask them about what was still unclear to me. If we could not meet again, we often talked via WhatsApp. Following up on interviews turned out to work very well and enabled me to establish a clear overview of my data and an in-depth understanding of what my interlocutors were telling me. Furthermore it allowed me to pinpoint possible interesting directions and follow-up questions.

Besides in-depth interviews I conducted walking interviews where I asked my interlocutors to take me to a place that was significant for them in connection with poetry. Often these walking interviews took place on our first meeting to keep the conversation informal. On these walks people brought me to different places such as mosques, cafes, parks and shrines or graves of famous poets and told me stories about their emotional connection with these specific places and how it relates to poetry and to their daily lives (Kinney, 2017:3).

Before entering the field I planned to conduct ‘poetry interviews’ in which I wanted to ask my interlocutors to tell me about their favorite poems and interpret them for me. In practice, this proved to be almost impossible as many of them told me that the poems were not to be chosen as ‘favorite’. Which poem spoke to my interlocutors emotionally often depended on what was important for them at a certain moment in their lives. To be able to gain an in-depth understanding of a few poems as opposed to gaining a superficial understanding of many of them, in follow up interviews I often asked my interlocutors about specific poems they had previously told me about and whether they would interpret the lines for me. This proved to be a fruitful approach.

2.1. A note on translation and language difficulties

During my stay in Iran, much to my annoyance, _{often when I told people about my research they} immediately stated that I first needed to sufficiently learn the Persian language; only then I could do research on poetry. I often tried to explain to them that I could do without, as my research focus was not in the field of ethnopoetics, linguistics or literary studies, but I rather was interested in the _{people that read and enjoy poetry in their daily lives. I clarified that the} interpretation of the verses within the subjective lifeworlds of my interlocutors was central to my

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inquiry and not the poem itself. As it turned out this approach made it indeed possible to research poetry with only a basic knowledge of the Persian language.

I tried to make my insufficiency of the Persian language work to my benefit. I believe that, to some extent, not knowing the verses myself was an advantage for my particular research focus. I entered the field with the idea that the subjective interpretations of poetry verses could tell me something valuable about the people that made them. Not knowing the poems beforehand, I did not have a personal interpretation of the verse and therefore could allow the interpretation of the interlocutor to become central. Moreover, because I was also learning Persian, I let myself be entitled to ask ‘stupid’ questions for clarity on literary concepts during interviews. Their explanation provided me with a more in-depth understanding of the interpretations of my interlocutors.

While I did not encounter direct limits, I would never argue that language barriers did not limit me in conducting my research. Language sits at the basis of conducting qualitative research, as one of the most important methods of collecting material is the in-depth interview. Being insufficient in Persian certainly influenced what material I was able to collect and what kind of interviews I conducted and with whom. It also influenced the interpretation of the material I gathered. Conducting research into a subject that is distinctly Persian, as it is often argued that Persian poetry is impossible to translate into other languages and cannot be understood without an in-depth knowledge of Persian culture and imagery, is to lose its “culture-specific richness and idiosyncrasy” (Wierzbicka, 2009:12). What is narrated in this thesis is thus an “English” rendition of how a ‘Persian’ phenomenon influences the lifeworlds of my interlocutors.

2.2. Protection of material, interlocutors and myself.

Iran can be regarded as an ‘authoritarian field’: countries that “curtail freedom of expression and freedom of association, and [...] arbitrariness to their governance, resulting in various forms of insecurity for those who reside in or enter such territories” (Glasius et al.,:2018:6). The following paragraphs will briefly focus on how the specific Iranian authoritarian context has influenced my research in terms of the collection of my material, my own positionality in the field and ethical considerations with regard to my interlocutors.

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Conducting research in an authoritarian country such as Iran is influenced by multiple things such as political turmoil and strong control over the population which results in a securitarian approach to researchers (Rivetti and Saeidi, 2018:3). In such authoritarian environments often both researchers and interlocutors are at risk, as Rivetti and Saeidi state: “[n]ot only Iranians linked to foreign researchers may be accused of collaborating with dubious foreigners, but they could even face the threat of being used to extract information about the foreigners and then accused of being in touch with them” (2018:6). At first glance my topic of research is not sensitive in any way. Poetry is regarded as an important emotional heritage in Iran and my research can be seen as being part of _{iranshenasi (Iranian studies) which in Iran is a field} of inquiry regarded as “academically shallow and Orientalist [...] and therefore not worthy of further attention” (Rivetti and Saeidi, 2018:8). However as stated before, my research did not focus on poetry in a literary way as I aimed to understand the daily lives of my interlocutors through poetry. As such the risk was not so much connected with the topic of research but rather what the conversations with my interlocutors were about. Therefore it was important that I dealt ethically andsafely with my material to protect the safety of my interlocutors, as they trusted me with their life stories.

I have recorded most of my interviews and transcribed them directly after the interview was finished and then deleted the recording after that. Whenever sensitive topics were discussed in the conversations, During the transcription of interviews I used encryption for specific words such as government, Islam, religion or the name of the Supreme Leader. Furthermore I named my interlocutors with a pseudonym. Interviews that were only focussing on poetry I kept on my laptop as ‘evidence’ while the sensitive ones I sent via WhatsApp (which is supposed to be encrypted) to my partner in the Netherlands. In addition I took several other safety precautions. For instance when traveling to a forbidden film screening, I put my phone on flight mode and took three separate taxis to avoid the risk of being followed.

Although my research was not politically sensitive nor do I desire to criticize the government in any way, the sensitive and authoritarian environment did influence my research to a great extent. My fieldwork took place while tensions were increasing, protests took place on the streets and increasingly duo-nationals and even foreigners were arrested and charged with

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spying including many academics. I weighed my decision to travel to Iran to conduct fieldwork multiple times before going and considered leaving during the time I was there. Both before and during my fieldwork I struggled with obtaining information about the situation in Iran. Directly after the protests in November I asked several people at the international office of the University of Tehran about the safety of the situation; I never got an answer as nobody would dare to make any statement about it. Finally, I came to understand that asking and talking about the risk involved in my presence in Iran was risky in itself. As Rivetti and Saeidi state: “by engaging with the state through clear and concise conversations, a foreign researcher becomes more suspicious not only to state agents but also wider society because no one speaks this way” (2018:8).

I believe that staying in Iran for a long period as a foreign researcher has made me able to understand at least a notion of what living in an authoritarian country entails. My research-stay forever changed the rather “romantic” perception I had about Iran since my visits as a tourist. The precautions to protect my interlocutors and myself might be seen as somewhat of an overreaction but they gave me the peace of mind that I needed in the uncertain environment I found myself in. However, if authorities desired, they could have easily traced me back to my interlocutors as their intelligence system is highly advanced. I was always aware that there were risks involved with doing fieldwork in Iran, especially in times of international and domestic turmoil. I have tried to minimize the risks for myself and for my interlocutors but also needed to accept it as a reality that existed (Glasius et al., 2018:35).

2.3. On friendship and positionality

Both new as well as existing friendships played an important role during my fieldwork but also presented to me ethical dilemmas. For that reason, it is necessary to discuss the methodological and ethical implications of using friendship as a method of research in the specific context of Iran.

Social interaction in Iran is characterized by insecurity and uncertainty about who one is actually interacting with, which makes it difficult for Iranians to establish relationships with people beyond the point of exchanging niceties and superficiality (Khosravi, 2017:70). Three

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years ago when I first met Kourosh, now a dear friend who lives in Tehran, he told me that he was delighted to talk to a foreigner because, with me, he did not have to “pretend” and he was not afraid of being judged. In his words I was “a certainty” that had absolutely no ties with the government. This was something that I kept recognizing in conversations I had with my interlocutors because they immediately trusted me with their most personal thoughts, fears and contemplations. When I asked whether they shared these thoughts with their friends and families their answer was often that they refrained from doing so.

Although these personal stories benefitted the depth of my material to a great extent, my positionality as a ‘trusted’ foreigner also provided me with ethical dilemmas. With some interlocutors our contact quickly evolved into a friendship where we spoke regularly and spent our days together shopping, eating, hiking and drinking tea together. These days often provided me with great material as I got the chance to observe my interlocutors, ask them questions about their lives and find out how they spend their days. I agree that “[f]riendship as method can bring us to a level of understanding and depth of experience we may be unable to reach using only traditional methods”, however there are some difficulties that come with this method as well (Tillmann-Healy, 2003:737). The further our relationship moved from researcher-interlocutor to friends, the more I realized that I also used their lives as ‘data’. This gave me a very uncomfortable feeling as if I was dishonest to them when asking about their lives.

I especially came to realize how confused I felt about this positionality when I was back in the Netherlands and had a conversation with a Leila who became my friend while I was in the field. When she told me about the struggles of her daily life, I felt as if I was taking advantage of her pain. Of course I tried to help her and comfort her as much as I could but when she began talking about two poems of Shamlu that helped her during the difficult time she was going through, I felt stuck between a friend and a researcher. During our conversations, she told me many things that were so valuable for my research that I wanted to know more about. I felt however that, as a supportive friend, I should rather focus on helping her instead of finding out more information about the poems. When she provided me with these beautiful examples of how poetry helped her cope with the extremely sad situation she found herself in, it even excited me that it could contribute a great deal to my research. That made me feel guilty as I did not feel

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entitled to use any of it. Eventually I decided to ask her again for informed consent to use the information she told me.

It is important to keep in mind that contributing to a researchers project can be experienced as positive by interlocutors; sharing stories with the researcher “can help participants feel heard, known, and understood” as researchers may provide interlocutors with “unique opportunities to (co)construct meaningful accounts of troubling and painful experiences” (Tillmann-Healy, 2003:737). _{Leila indeed continuously told me that she is grateful for our} friendship because she can trust me with her doubts, deepest fears and grief. _{Despite Leila’s} reassuring words, I remained feeling guilty by writing about her emotions and interpreting her private stories and experiences. I gradually came to realize that my persistent feelings of guilt were not only connected with the feeling of ‘taking advantage’ of people’s stories, hardships and struggles but also with my positionality as a privileged researcher.

Although I always love being in Iran, during my fieldwork I had been often yearning for the moment my plane would leave Tehran and I could let go of my anxiety with regard to my own safety and no longer feel at risk anymore. Yet from the moment I landed in Europe, it felt extremely unfair that I was able to leave. It felt unjust that I had the privilege to do and say anything whenever I wanted and to breathe in fresh air as opposed to the pollution in Tehran which made everyone sick. It even became worse a week after I returned to Europe and the situation in Iran completely escalated. All my friends and family kept telling me that they were so happy that I left Iran before it got ‘dangerous’ and that I was back home safely. All I desired was to get into a plane and fly back to Iran. Knowing I could not contribute anything at least I wanted to just physically be there. I experienced that “not only does the researcher _{affect the} research process but they are themselves_{affected by this process” (Widdowfield, 2000:200).} It felt as if I had become emotionally “stitched into the daily realities” of my fieldwork site and the lives of my interlocutors (deLuca and Maddox, 2016:286). For months I was unable to untangle myself from a life that kept continuing while I was not an active part of it anymore.

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Chapter 3 A reciprocity of intimacies: exploring and understanding the inner self through

poetry

Ester laughs; “No, never!”.

She nods her head and then resumes in a more serious tone: “I went to the grave of Forough Farokhzad _{for her anniversary and I saw other}

people there but I did not talk to them. 10 We gather there and somebody reads from her poems, that's it. We did not talk to each other or share our ideas”.

Together with her friend Saman, Ester and I were sitting in a cafe in North Tehran and had just ordered our second cup of sweet Iranian tea when I asked her if she ever shares her interpretation of poems with others. After she stated that she rarely did, Ester started to explain that she does sometimes share poems via Instagram: “I use the poems because I think that they can convey the meaning in a better way than I can. It is more emotional than my own words”. Saman then interrupts her and states: “it is because whenever you start to talk about poetry, people think that you are a sad person and tell you to stop doing that and to have fun instead. Such a bad reaction can make people stop discussing it”. Ester agrees with her friend: “Yes. They are superficial”, while Saman continues: “[...] people nowadays on social media want to pretend about different things, about their situation; they pretend they have money, that they are so happy. But it is fake happiness; going to parties, being beautiful...”

Ester then puts on a confident voice and states “I don't care what people think”. Saman lights a cigarette and laughs. “Really!”, Ester continues, “these are two different groups of people and they are so contrary to each other. Some people understand what I mean by these poems, but others no, they don’t understand at all”.

“Look, Laura...” Ester points at her phone. “Here I posted a poem of Molana to convey the meaning of love. And this one is from 11 Forough...”

10. _{Faroukh Farokhzad (1934-1967) was an Iranian poet who wrote about women's rights and} sexuality. She died in a car crash at the age of 32 in Tehran. (see:

http://farrokhzadpoems.com/ Accessed 2 June 2020)

11 _{Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, in Iran better known as Mevlânâ/Mawlānā or Molana} (‘master’) and in the west simply as Rumi, is a Persian poet and Sufi mystic (1207-1273)

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Saman and Ester, two students at the University of Tehran, regard their generation as superficial, flighty, happy-go-lucky and ‘leading an easy life’. Ester later told me that she was sure that when people post poetry on Instagram below their selfies they did not understand a single word from the verse and they only posted the verses to show that they are sophisticated and smart. She found it superficial and ostentatious and it has nothing to do with “really understanding” poetry. If Saman and Ester would talk about poetry to their friends they were depicted as being ‘sad’ and urged to have fun instead, which Saman pointed out as a reason to refrain from doing so. The interview excerpt reflects, among other things, something that many of my interlocutors have in common. They do not share their subjective interpretation of poetry verses with others, they feel as if they are alone in their love of poetry and generally perceive their peers as being different from themselves. In this chapter I will argue that the way in which my interlocutors refrain from sharing their subjective emotional interpretations of verses must be seen as embedded in the specific context of both Persianate culture and tradition as well as the insecurity characterizing the contemporary political climate of Iran. I will subsequently outline the specific emotional way in which my interlocutors engage with poetry; to care for their inner self, to understand their emotions and how poets are regarded as trusted ‘saints’ and used as guideposts to live by.

3.1. Deep people, for sure.

During my research it became clear that not all Iranians engage emotionally with poetry on the same level. The people I had in-depth conversations with all have the same perception about what a valuable reading of poetry verses entails. This is significantly different from how most Iranians engage with poetry. These people generally do not see each other in Iranian society and most of them feel alone in their love of poetry. Interesting is how their stories resonate strongly with each other and they form an unconnected group together. Saeed, a 23-year-old English teacher from Shiraz, told me that he felt that people around him engage with poetry only because they regard it as part of a tradition that goes back centuries. He explained that on important holidays such as _{yalda (solstice) and nowruz} _{(Iranian new year), people come together to read} poetry. However, he observed this as a superficial reading of the verses:

Mirroring selves: Emotions, Living poetry and the Appropriation of religious practice in the Islamic Republic of Iran