Musings with Myself, with Hypothetical Masters and Students
It seems that initially, an esteemed poet had written a critique in a reformist newspaper about a collection of books commissioned by the previous government, and a group of respected individuals involved in that collection had attacked him.
Then, a noble and kind veteran defended that critique, and esteemed admirers of another noble and kind veteran became upset and attacked him from all sides, and so on. Reading these writings and the publication of these disputes in the public sphere was very bitter for me. For this reason, as a very small member of the children’s literature family, who has erred and made mistakes more than all my peers, I offer and remind myself of some points on this matter, not to my colleagues but to myself:
1. I must remember that the main pain and wounds that make everyone cry out to the heavens do not come from the people of children’s literature but from the mistakes, inefficiency, and dishonesty of others. The knife has reached the bone for people, and the boundaries of shamelessness and plunder have expanded so much that all our people have become restless, distraught, unbalanced, and aggressive.
I must remember that if someone speaks harshly to me and disregards fairness, I should understand their circumstances and situation. I must remember that they are deeply pained and profoundly wronged, and they are forced to speak ill of, attack, and lash out at the only people they can, namely their friends and colleagues. The fact that they speak ill of me means that I have been the closest and safest person for them.
2. I must remember that we, all of us, despite all differences in tastes and inclinations, belong to one lineage. A person of pen and literature, no matter how much they spend their life flattering and fawning, and squandering their reputation and future, will not be admitted to the main circle of worldly people and will always remain mocked, played with, and humiliated by them, merely a court jester or a bag carrier. If someone were truly a competent thief and embezzler, they would know that the realm of culture is a small pond and would not waste their life for such a small amount, but would go after more valuable fields; as some of our former colleagues have done.
3. I must remember that any harshness and anger in response to a critique is a fascist, vile, and unethical act. Everyone should have the right to express their opinion, even if we believe that opinion is wrong or based on personal interests and views. If freedom of expression does not remain (which it has not), nothing remains (which it has not). I must remember not to be someone’s abusive henchman or a belligerent follower, nor to wish for devoted disciples to silence my protesters and critics. I must know that the day I cannot tolerate criticism, I must accept the death of my ethics and conscience, and I will no longer be considered a person of letters, but an authoritarian and totalitarian oppressor. I must remember that for general and literary salvation, correction, and improvement, there is no way other than critique, acceptance and tolerance of critique, a culture of dialogue, and the ethics of critique.
4. I must remember that if I feel that dependence on power has led to the irregular and cancerous growth of incompetent and worthless newcomers, I should recall my memories and see if I, knowingly or unknowingly, willingly or unwillingly, was not a flatterer of the powerful in my youth? Was I not sometimes appointed to a position without sufficient merit and given an opportunity? In those years when I was rising, were there not more qualified individuals who remained outside the arena due to their independence, integrity, and avoidance of sycophancy, or due to various ideological and political labels? I should ask myself if my current position, which allows me to dissociate, stand aloof, critique, and be intellectual, is not a result of my youth’s cheers and jeers, tearing clothes, and performing exaggerated devotions.
5. I must remember that if I have had significant administrative and literary growth in recent years, does it solely come back to my merit, effort, and knowledge? Did the sudden removal of hundreds of my colleagues from every festival, program, contract, and collaboration not make me a shining figure in Iranian literature? If dozens of my colleagues had not been removed for non-literary reasons, would I be in such a position today? I must remember to ask myself if my non-participation in a social protest, unlike most of my colleagues, was truly based on my heartfelt conviction, or stemmed from caution, consideration for my administrative and professional position, expediency, and self-interest?
I must ask myself if, hypothetically, supporting a certain movement had not come with all sorts of material, professional, and media benefits, but instead led to deprivation, exclusion, and frustration, would I still remain as strong a defender and supporter of that political movement? I must ask myself, I who blame others for their lack of frankness and for speaking ambiguously, sarcastically, and indirectly, and who express my own words directly, sharply, and zealously – would I speak so eloquently and articulately if my back were not warmed by official and unofficial, overt and covert support?
6. I must remember to grant all my colleagues the right to seek ways for professional, economic, and social advancement. I must grant them the right for their beards to be trimmed short or grown long, for their headscarves to move forward and backward, and for the tone and words of their speech to be edited under different governments. I must grant them the right to write poems for commissioned occasions, to sit in the front row at certain meetings, and to shed tears during certain interviews.
I must accept that the vast majority of people around the world struggle in these very ways to secure their lives and livelihoods. I must accept that it is the norm and natural throughout history for figures like Abu Sa’id Abu’l-Khayr and Kasa’i Marvazi to be rare exceptions, and for most of my peers to sit daily in a court praising a king and an emir. I must remember that if today I respect historical figures like Rudaki, Unsuri, Manuchehri, Saadi, Nizami, Khaqani, Hafez, Sa’eb, and our own Yamini Sharif, I should also look at my contemporary colleagues not with criticism and rejection, but with empathy, acceptance, and friendship.
7. I must remember that this too shall pass. Neither this position, status, and opportunity will remain for me, nor will the social atmosphere, the space of media and virtual networks, or the critical tastes of people remain the same. Everything will change, and again, it will be just me and my former peers and friends.
If I wish to criticize them or object to their mistakes, there is no problem; but in a way that tomorrow I can look them in the eye again. I must remember that sooner or later, I will attend their funeral or they will attend mine, and we will stand by each other’s graves, and I pray to God that on that day I will not be ashamed of the words I have spoken to them.
