Björn recenserade Children of the Jacaranda tree av Sahar Delijani
None
3 stjärnor
“There are poems that would’ve been much better off written as essays,” Omid said as he stretched his arm out behind her on the back of the seat and placed his warm palm on her shoulder. “If it’s anything that can easily be articulated in an article, then it’s an insult to put the same thoughts and ideas into the language of poetry. It sullies its essence, because poetry is there to say what cannot be said. It is there to speak of the hidden, the secret, the sacred.”
I don't necessarily agree, but it does speak to a problem with Children of the Jacaranda Tree. Towards the end, one of the many lead characters tells her lover all about her family history as a child born in prison to Iranian dissidents, and later realises that he didn't want to know - that his own family was on the …
“There are poems that would’ve been much better off written as essays,” Omid said as he stretched his arm out behind her on the back of the seat and placed his warm palm on her shoulder. “If it’s anything that can easily be articulated in an article, then it’s an insult to put the same thoughts and ideas into the language of poetry. It sullies its essence, because poetry is there to say what cannot be said. It is there to speak of the hidden, the secret, the sacred.”
I don't necessarily agree, but it does speak to a problem with Children of the Jacaranda Tree. Towards the end, one of the many lead characters tells her lover all about her family history as a child born in prison to Iranian dissidents, and later realises that he didn't want to know - that his own family was on the other side, and that knowing what she and her parents had been through was the last thing he needed. To some extent, I can relate; knowing that this is largely based on Delijani's own experiences (and those of her parents) I can't help but feel like an asshole for sitting here in 200 years of peace and 100 years of democracy and critiquing how another person expresses pain over something I could never imagine. How can I tell a person, as opposed to an author, that I give their life and their country 3 (or 2.5 rounded up) stars? "Yeah, you and your mother went through hell, but you need to make me believe it."
But then, it does present itself as a novel - as poetry, so to speak - and as such, as heartfelt as it is and as admirable as its aim is, it simply falls a bit short. The themes it addresses (the alienation of the emigrant, the forced conflict between generations, how violence and silence poisons everything, the power and insufficiency of love, the panic of a government whose power must lie in policing not only actions but thoughts), fine... but even as she jumps from decade to decade and character to character the author's voice remains the same, the characters become mouthpieces, the prose gets way overwritten... It never becomes a bad novel, it just continuously falls a little bit short of what it seems to want to be.