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بوف کور ویکی‌نبشته بوف کور از صادق هدایت در زندگی زخمهایی هست که مثل خوره در انزوا روح را آهسته می‌خورد و می‌تراشد دانلود کتاب ” بوف کور ” | صادق هدایت بوف کور تا به امروز به بیش از شصت زبان زنده دنیا ترجمه شده است بوف کور از شاهکارهای ادبیات پست مدرن فارسی و از نخستین کتاب‌ها در این سبک می‌باشد صادق هدایت تمام افکار و چکیده مغز خود را در بوف کوره روشنی در معرض بازدید کتاب بوف کور اثر صادق هدایت | ایران کتاب کتاب بوف کور، رمانی نوشته ی صادق هدایت است که اولین بار در سال وارد بازار نشر شد این رمان جاودان که به شکلی گسترده به عنوان شاهکار هدایت در نظر گرفته می شود، مهم ترین اثری است که در طول قرن دانلود کتاب بوف کور صادق هدایتpdf دانلود کتابهای صادق بوف کور مشهورترین اثر صادق هدایت نویسنده معاصر ایرانی، رمانی کوتاه و از شاهکارهای ادبیات سدهٔ است این رمان به سبک فراواقع نوشته شده و تک‌گویی یک راوی است که دچار توهم و پندارهای روانی است دانلود کتاب بوف کور pdf صوتی mp بوف کور شناخته‌شده‌ترین اثر صادق هدایت نویسنده معاصر ایرانی، رمانی کوتاه و از شاهکارهای ادبیات ایران در سدهٔ ۲۰ میلادی است این رمان به سبک فراواقع نوشته شده و تک‌گویی یک راوی است که دچار توهم و پندارهای روانی است بوف کور ـ زندگی در فضاهای گم شده | رادیو زمانه بوف کور، حتی بدون توجه به کم و کیف آن، و بدون توجه به اصیل بودن یا نبودنش داستان روشنفکر ایرانی است که ذهن آواره و خانه به دوش دارد، از شروع قرن بیستم و تا به حال بی دلیل نیست که روشنفکران دانلود کتاب بوف کور صادق هدایت بوف کور شناخته‌شده‌ترین اثر صادق هدایت نویسنده معاصر ایرانی، رمانی کوتاه و از نخستین نثرهای داستانی ادبیات ایران در سدهٔ ۲۰ میلادی است این رمان به سبک فراواقع نوشته شده و تک‌گویی یک راوی است که دچار توهم و پندارهای بوف کور ensaniir بوف کور رانه مرگ است؛ نظم نمادین در بوف کور به دیده تردید می نگرد راوی بوف کور مازادی است که تن به دام دال های نظم نمادین نمی سپارد بوگام داسی، دختر اثیری و لکاته استعاره و تجسمی از خوشی هایی هستند که در نظم نمادین از راوی بوف کور در زنجیرۀ دالّ‌‌های بی‌‌پایان نظم نمادین در بوف کور، پدر نقش کمرنگی در شکل‌‌گیری شخصیت راوی ایفا می‌‌کنددالّ پدر در نظم نمادین غایب است نام پدر انسجام‌‌بخش نیست ازاین‌رو راوی بوفکور، نام پدر را به تعلیق درمی‌‌آورد و به دامن کتاب صوتی بوف کور نوشته صادق هدایت کتاب صوتی جدید مجله کتاب صوتی بوف کور نوشته صادق هدایت که این کتاب یکی از نوشته‌های زیبای صادق هدایت است و به چند زبان از جمله انگلسی و فرانسه ترجمه شده است


10 thoughts on “بوف کور

  1. says:

    A friend once told me Sadegh Hedayat wanted the book itself to be the experience and not a book about an experience I couldn’t agree So what was my Blind Owl experience? With every page I felt as if I was spiraling down through my subconscious and unconscious until I plunged into the collective unconscious A female figure in a black cloak and a meeting of eyes shinny alluring sensuous eyes – the anima? Another turn and there's an ancient old man with white hair and long white beard with the index finger of his left hand pressed against his lips – the wisdom archetype? And yet another turn and I was walking in a fantastic landscape of trees and hills of geometrical shapes cylinders perfect cones truncated cones – a dream or hallucination? And there are the eyes again and the ancient old man with his index finger pressed against his lips – a dream or hallucination or a reading of The Blind Owl? I put the book down and walk outside and the landscape is fantastic all the trees and hills are cylinders perfect cones and truncated cones and I see up ahead a female figure in a cloak I was warned by Porochista Khakpour in his preface to The Blind Owl And now you’ve been warned


  2. says:

    This classic Iranian novella darkly romantic and surrealist at its core is flecked with unsettling realistic detail and structured in a fashion which heralds postmodernism calling into uestion the meaning of its own narrative and—by implication—the function of narrative itself It is also the source of a folk belief people are routinely warned against reading it because doing so may cause suicide Taken together what an extraordinary weight for this little book to carryIts author Sadegh Hedayat 1903 1951 was a product of Catholic education learning French from the Lazarist brothers in secondary school At the age of twenty two he traveled to Belgium for university having promised his government to become a civil engineer but he hated Belgian weather hated civil engineering; soon he moved to Paris to study architecture then dentistry then literature He immersed himself in Poe Kafka and Rilke experimented with opium and alcohol and fell headlong in love with a Parisian girl When the affair ended unhappily he tried to drown himself in the Marne About this time he wrote the first draft of The Blind Owl After four years in France he returned to Tehran having failed to earn a degree He worked as a bank clerk and hated it; he lived in a country too conservative to permit the publication of his best creative work Although he was socially and politically engaged forming a literary circle dabbling in left wing politics he continued to seek comfort and solace in opium and alcohol In 1936 he traveled to India where he first published The Blind Owl; four years later when Reza Shah's fall ended strict censorship he was finally able to publish the book in his native IranIt is an extremely unusual book It tells two stories—or one story in two different forms surreal and then realistic—involving a bitter young opium addict a woman he loathes and loves a cackling old man who wears a turban and a sudden perhaps violent death The surreal story which comes first is the powerful its bare bones narrative rendered hypnotic through artful repetitions of evocative imagery and it both enriches and undermines the realistic tale which comes after Its narration reminds one of “The Tell tale Heart” its hopelessness of the parables of Kafka but the only book I know that it actually resembles is James Hogg's 1824 novel The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner Written by Himself With a Detail of Curious Traditionary Facts and Other Evidence by the Editor only here it is the later realistic story which calls the earlier narrative into uestionIt is a gripping memorable literary experience and I would advise you to read it And no I do not think it will compel you to commit suicide It is true though that Hedayat did commit suicide but his death followed years of addiction and disillusionment After allocating money for his shroud and burial after stopping up the gaps in his windows and doors he turned on the gas in his tiny apartment in the heart of the great city of Paris where years ago his book The Blind Owl had begun


  3. says:

    بوف کور Boof e koor The Blind Owl Sadegh HedayatThe Blind Owl 1936 is Sadegh Hedayat's magnum opus and a major literary work of 20th century Iran Written in Persian it tells the story of an unnamed pen case painter the narrator who sees in his macabre feverish nightmares that the presence of death annihilates all that is imaginary We are the offspring of death and death delivers us from the tantalizing fraudulent attractions of life; it is death that beckons us from the depths of life If at times we come to a halt we do so to hear the call of death Throughout our lives the finger of death points at us The narrator addresses his murderous confessions to the shadow on his wall resembling an owl His confessions do not follow a linear progression of events and often repeat and layer themselves thematically thus lending to the open ended nature of interpretation of the storyتاریخ نخستین خوانش اول ماه سپتامبر سال 1969میلادی؛ تاریخ خوانش این نسخه ماه سپتامبر سال 1971میلادیعنوان بوف کور؛ اثر صادق هدایت؛ تهران، جاویدان، 1315، در 87ص؛ چاپ دیگر تهران، امیرکبیر، چاپ یازدهم 1344، در 88ص؛ چاپ سیزدهم، 1349، در 116ص؛ نمیدانم چندبار تجدید چاپ شده تا آنجا که جستم در سال 1383هجری خورشیدی، نشر مرکز در نسخه چاپی نوشته بود چاپ هفتاد و پنج؛ هشدار اگر کسی هنوز این کتاب را نخوانده، و میخواهد «بوف کور» را بخواند، ادامه ی خوانش ریویو، داستان را لو میدهد؛کتاب «بوف کور» نخستین بار در سال 1315هجری خورشیدی 1937میلادی، و در «بمبئی» چاپ شد؛ روانشاد «صادق هدایت»، نسخه ی دست‌نویس «بوف کور» را در حدود پنجاه نسخه، به صورت پلی‌ کپی چاپ کردند؛ کتاب با این جملات مشهور آغاز می‌شود «در زندگی زخم‌هایی هست، که مثل خوره روح را آهسته و در انزوا می‌خورد، و می‌تراشد؛ این دردها را نمی‌شود به کسی اظهار کرد؛ چون عموماً عادت دارند، که این دردهای باورنکردنی را، جزء اتفاقات و پیش‌آمدهای نادر و عجیب بشمارند، و اگر کسی بگوید یا بنویسد، مردم بر سَبیل عقاید جاری، و عقاید خودشان سعی می‌کنند، آنرا با لبخند شکاک و تمسخرآمیز، تلقی بکنند؛ زیرا بشر هنوز چاره و دوایی برایش پیدا نکرده » پایان نقلدر بخش نخست؛ اول شخص که ساکن خانه‌ ای در بیرون خندق در «شهر ری» است به شرح یکی از دردهای خوره‌ وار می‌پردازد، که برای خودش روی داده است؛ وی که حرفه ی نقاشی روی قلمدان را اختیار کرده‌، هماره نقشی یکسان بر روی قلمدان، از دختری در لباس سیاه، میکشد، که شاخه‌ ای گل نیلوفر آبی، به پیرمردی که به حالت جوکیان هند چمباتمه زده، و زیر درخت سروی بنشسته، هدیه می‌دهد؛ میان دختر و پیرمرد، جوی آبی وجود دارد؛ ماجرا از آنجا آغاز می‌شود، که روزی راوی، از سوراخ رف پستوی خانه‌ اش که گویا اصلاً چنین سوراخی وجود نداشته‌ است منظره‌ ای را که همواره نقاشی می‌کرده‌، می‌بیند؛ و مفتون نگاه دختر اثیری فرشته شده؛ زندگیش دگرگون می‌شود؛ هنگام غروب‌، دختر را نشسته در کنار در خانه‌ اش می‌یابد؛ دختر سپس در رخت‌خواب راوی، به طرز اسرارآمیزی جان می‌دهد؛ راوی چشم‌های دختر را نقاشی میکند، تا آنها را برای خود جاودانه کند؛ سپس دختر اثیری را قطعه قطعه کرده، داخل چمدانی میگذارد، و به گورستان می‌برد؛ گورکنی که گور دختر را می‌کـَنـَد، در گور گلدانی می‌یابد، که بعدا به رسم یادگاری، به راوی داده می‌شود؛ راوی پس از بازگشت به خانه، در کمال ناباوری درمی‌یابد؛ که بر روی گلدان، یک جفت چشم؛ درست همانند آن دو چشمی که همان شب کشیده‌ بود، نقاشی شده‌ است؛ سپس راوی تصمیم می‌گیرد، برای مرتب کردن افکارش، نقاشی خود، و نقاشی گلدان را، جلوی منقل تریاک، روبروی خود بگذارد، و تریاک بکشد؛ راوی با تریاک به حالت خلسه می‌رود، و در عالم رؤیا، به سده‌ های پیشین برمیگردد، و خود را در محیطی تازه می‌یابد؛ که علی‌رغم جدید بودن، برایش کاملاً آشناست؛ بخش دوم ماجرای راوی، در دنیای تازه چندین سده پیش است؛ راوی مشغول نوشتن، و شرح ماجرا، برای سایه‌ اش می‌شود؛ که شکل جغد است، جغد هرآنچه را راوی می‌نویسد، می‌بلعد؛ راوی، جوانی بیمار و رنجور است، که زنش راوی او را به نام اصلی نمی‌خواند بلکه وی را لکاته می‌نامد از وی تمکین نمی‌کند، یعنی به همبستری با شوهرش راضی نیست؛ ولی لکاته، ده‌ ها فاسق دارد؛ ویژگی‌های ظاهری «لکاته»، درست همانند ویژگی‌های ظاهری «دختر اثیری»، در بخش نخست رمان است؛ راوی همچنین، به ماجرای آشنایی پدرش با مادر خویش که یک رقاصهٔ هندی بوده‌ است اشاره می‌کند، و اینکه از کودکی، نزد عمه‌ اش مادر «لکاته»، بزرگ شده‌ است؛ راوی در این بخش دوم رمان، به تقابل خود، و رجّاله‌ ها نیز اشاره می‌کند، و از آنها متنفر است؛ راوی باور دارد، که دنیای بیرونی، دنیای رجاله‌ هاست؛ رجّاله‌ ها از نظر او «هریک دهانی هستند، با مشتی روده، که دائم دنبال پول و شهوت می‌دوند»؛ پرستار راوی، دایه ی پیر هموست، که دایه ی «لکاته» نیز بوده‌ است؛ و به طرز احمقانه ی خویش از دید راوی، به تسکین آلام راوی می‌پردازد؛ و برایش حکیم می‌آورد، و فال گوش می‌ایستد؛ و معجون‌های گوناگون، به وی می‌خوراند؛ روبروی خانه ی راوی، پیرمرد مرموزی پیرمرد خِنزِرپِنزِری، همواره بساط خویش را پهن کرده‌ است؛ پیرمرد از نظر راوی، یکی از فاسق‌های لکاته است، و خود راوی اعتراف می‌کند، که جای دندان‌های پیرمرد را، بر گونه ی لکاته دیده‌ است؛ راوی باور دارد، که پیرمرد با دیگران فرق دارد، و می‌توان گفت که یک نیمچه خدا محسوب می‌شود، و بساطی که جلوی او پهن شده، همچون بساط آفرینش است؛ سرانجام راوی، تصمیم به قتل لکاته می‌گیرد؛ در هیئتی شبیه پیرمرد خنزرپنزری، وارد اتاق لکاته می‌شود، و گِزلیک استخوانی را، که از پیرمرد خریداری کرده، در چشم لکاته فروکرده، او را می‌کشد؛ از اتاق که بیرون می‌آید، به تصویر خود در آیینه می‌نگرد، می‌بیند که موهایش سفید، و قیافه‌ اش درست همانند پیرمرد خنزرپنزری، شده‌ استتاریخ بهنگام رسانی 08061399هجری خورشیدی؛ ا شربیانی


  4. says:

    Is it just me or does this look like something to be buried in?A melancholic decorator of Persian pen cases see above experiences strange visions dissolved boundaries between his art and reality inexplicable longing mysterious midnight visitors gory hallucinatory chores and horse drawn hearse rides through gloomy star lit mists all embroidered with multiple threads of déjà vu and a dreamy sense of such enveloping accursedness that it would prompt Edgar Allen Poe himself to say Whoa dude lighten up And yet this is just the beginning In the gaps between the clouds the stars gazed down at the earth like gleaming eyes emerging from a mass of coagulated blood That simile might seem strained but in context it resonates with earlier images as Hedayat's techniue is accumulation through repetition This gradually loads actions utterances and images with ever greater portentious density thus a strange unity survives radical shifts in the narrative abrupt changes of setting and disjointed chronology One gets a distinct sense that beneath the fragmented surface there is a dark logic operating through a few enigmatic motifs and incancatory phrases that resurface over and over The Blind Owl is distinctly gothic decidedly other than Western and clearly modernist but this 3 way intersection of seemingly incompatible strands is braided as evenly as if it were entirely natural while the atmosphere and psychology reside well within the opium haze margins of the unnatural The modernist disjunctions are no self conscious experiments but of the mode most suited to the troubled mind of a man desperate to tell his disturbing story in order to explain my life to my stooping shadow I am obliged to tell a story Ugh How many stories about love copulation marriage and death already exist not one of which tells the truth How sick I am of well constructed plots and brilliant writing But just after giving that reason a rejection of other texts he firmly locates his inventions within a shadowy subjective space The various phases of childhood and maturity are to me nothing but futile words They mean something only to other people But my life has always known only one season and one state of being It is as though it had been spent in some frigid zone and in eternal darkness while all the time within me burned a flame which consumed me as the flame consumes the candle The above romance of character is only so consistent in his metaphors however; his sense of self and surrounding circumstances benefit from no such unchanging stability troubled as they are by dreaming or being dreamed writing or being written At times he seems to waver between writing to cling to life and writing to seal his coffinThis book is not difficult to read; although loaded with enigmatic symbolism and surreal dreamlike vignettes on the sentence level the language is uite simple almost childlike but it is a deceptive simplicity as with Kafka or Borges and like those writers Hedayat knows that the otherworldly is often best rendered in very grounded language Rarely does the madness go purpleI don't know if this book has been described as misogynist but I would be surprised if it had not The narrator's relationships with women are troubled to put it lightly but his character is not admirable nor strictly speaking sane so this makes it difficult to extricate the author's attitude toward women from this strange man's view and the world it took in The closest any character gets to receiving a name is The Bitch the narrator's wife which sounds terrible out of context but within the story characterizes him as much as herPlease don't let my vagueness lead you to think this novella is as foggy as this review; I'm reluctant than usual to spoil the strange happenings which occur on nearly every page in language uite lucid The spoilage wouldn't be the sort where a whodunnit is undone or a thriller's twists are spilled This book is special; I feel a reader's encounter with it should be as personal as possible I'm lucky to have come to it without remembering why without knowing the opinions of others and utterly ignorant of its worldwide reputation It has been banned in the author's home nation of Iran purportedly because it has been connected to suicides including the author's but despite this censorship The Blind Owl retains its status as the modern Persian classic


  5. says:

    The Blind Owl boasts the surreal aura of The Arabian Nights and possesses the chilling atmosphere of macabre Gothic talesA lonely reclusive man envisions some mystical girl and he becomes enthralledHer air of mingled gaiety and sadness set her apart from ordinary mankind Her beauty was extraordinary She reminded me of a vision seen in an opium sleep She aroused in me a heat of passion like that which is kindled by the mandrake root It seemed to me as I gazed at her long slender form with its harmonious lines of shoulder arms breasts waist buttocks and legs that she had been torn from her husband’s embrace that she was like the female mandrake which has been plucked from the arms of its mateIs she an angel of light? Is she a demon of darkness?He is elated and awed and he feels a presence of deathAt that moment my thoughts were numbed Within me I felt a new and singular form of life My being was somehow connected with that of all the creatures that existed about me with all the shadows that uivered around me I was in intimate inviolable communion with the outside world and with all created things and a complex system of invisible conductors transmitted a restless flow of impulses between me and all the elements of nature There was no conception no notion which I felt to be foreign to me I was capable of penetrating with ease the secrets of the painters of the past the mysteries of abstruse philosophies the ancient folly of ideas and species At that moment I participated in the revolutions of earth and heaven in the germination of plants and in the instinctive movements of animals Past and future far and near had joined together and fused in the life of my mindIs he a demon of wisdom? Is he an angel of madness?Suddenly he discovers that he is an altogether different man but death is beckoningBefore I went to sleep I looked at myself in the mirror My face was ravaged lifeless and indistinct so indistinct that I did not recognise myself I got into bed pulled the uilt over my head huddled myself up and with eyes closed pursued the course of my thoughts I was conscious of the strands which had been woven by a dark gloomy fearful and delightful destiny; I moved in the regions where life and death fuse together and perverse images come into being and ancient extinct desires vague strangled desires again come to life and cry aloud for vengeanceEverything is unhinged and shaky Which things are imagined? Which things are real? Is insanity a cause? Is insanity an effect?


  6. says:

    In Iran of the 1950's at school and at home young people were advised to stay away from the works of Sade Hedayat epecially his Blind Owl A few young people had strayed from this rule and reportedly had committed suicideA nightmare from beginning to end – and that's cause the cosmic drama of death rebirth the allegory of desire and its renunciation that Hedayat so masterfully crafts in the brief pages of a novella are a nightmare in themselvesIf you thought that Invention of Morel and Pedro Paramo are studies in paranoia; then The Blind Owl takes claustrophobia to a different levelHedayat piles horror upon horror to such an extent that one needs occasional breaks from this morbid tale in order to breathe easyNot for everyone it would reuire a certain sensibility – a sensibility like this in order to fully appreciate its complex artistry that carries variations on the same themes motifs in an endless recursive loop but each time with accretions come further depths in meaning understanding – it's a way lot than a surrealistic opium dreamIndia plays a substantial part in the narrative but there are factual inaccuracies – view spoiler The Devdasi system has been followed in the south of India I've never heard of it being practised in the temples of northern India least of all in the Shiva temples of BenarasVaranasi hide spoiler


  7. says:

    This book is dark sad funereal yet ethereal in its beautiful lyrical prose Self published in 1937 in Bombay this psycho fiction got published only in 1941 in Tehran Iran by its author Sadegh Hedayat 1903 1951 but it was subseuently banned The reason it caused many suicides in Iran after it came out And well if you must know Hedayat also committed suicide 10 years after this book's Tehran publication While in his apartment in France Hedayat at 48 gassed himself to his deathSo my list of 1001 book authors who killed himselfherself is becoming longer Silvia Plath drug overdose Ernest Hemingway gunshot Virginia Woolf drowning Yukio Mishima disembowelment Richard Brautigan gunshot and now Sadegh Hedayat gassing himself What is it with these authors whose works made money but for unknown reasons killed themselves?Is there anything in their works? Why is this book The Blind Owl inspires people to kill themselves?Sarah Vowell American author journalist essayist and social commentator wrote in her 2005 book Assassination Vacation that the reason why Virginia Woolf killed herself was that nobody could understand what she wanted to say in her magnum opus To The Lighthouse I know that it was an exaggeration of sort but really it was kinda hard to understand for an literary illiterate or untrained brain of mine but if it were true then that statement will be truer in the case of Hedayat's The Blind OwlThink of a dying bedridden man who is a drug opium addict and he is hallucinating from absence of drug He is confined in an isolated room and 100% deprived of any drug The room and the man reek with loneliness Apart from the bed and probably a toilet bowl there is a table lamp flickering at his bedside casting an owl like shadow on the wall The dying man is disillusioned and remembering his wife who he calls the bitch his Hindu dancer mother Bugam Dasi the only named character in the story and a series of dark shady characters In The Blind Owl Sadegh Hedayat is considered to have created the most famous Persian novel in Iran and the West US and Europe and Hedayat is without argument the father of Persian modernist in fiction Yet in it Hedayat's loneliness in real life he is described to be asexual and living by himself during the time of his death is very apparent The prose in hauntingly powerful and the images that he creates in his readers' mind can really inspire us to venture our thoughts on what is there after our life in this earth The pain that he has with his relationships with the people he knows and probably loves are so sour that can put trigger one's mind to evaluate hisher own relationships and probably do the same with this problem and that what else is there to live for? While staring at the owl like shadow he says I write only for my shadow which is cast on the wall in front of the light I must introduce myself to it So he writestalks to the shadow about his life This part is the most haunting for meIt was dark silent night like the night which had enveloped all my being a night peopled with fearful shapes which grimaced at me from door and wall and curtain At times my room became so narrow that I felt that I was lying in a coffin Death was murmuring his song in my ear like a stammering man who is obliged to repeat each word and who when he has come to the end of a line has to begin it afresh His song penetrated my flesh like the while of a saw He would raise his voice and suddenly fall silent In her intro to the book Porochista Khakpour ended her piece with a warning Given the usefulness of his Hedayat's tactics with respect to that his literary prowess I'll then pass on what got me to these pages of the book refrain reader from reading this book whatever you do You've been warned


  8. says:

    Owls particularly screech owls which is what the Blind Owl refers to are harbingers of death the world over no less so in Persian folklore Considering the morose obsession with death within the novel following which Hedayat committed suicide it reads like a last will and testament with hindsightIn its entirety this is one spectacular hallucogenic trip triggered by opium tempered with brief moments of withdrawal when the nameless narrator none of the characters within are named btw experiences physical malaise bodily decomposition maggots dismorphia confusion the lot All of it predicated I think on serious mental health issues which generated the cycle to begin withHow to explain this ride? Its an exuisite labyrinthian unfolding of mental maps which double back in a concertina of repetitions splinter outwards with a cornocupia of symbols which themselves take on new imprints so that homogeneity of substance is constantly morphed into a verisimilitude of formHeavily laden with metaphor symbolism existential angst and mental self torture this languid journey never becomes too abstract to follow and opens up a dazzling kaleidoscope of the colour emotion and visions of an addictMagical realism which is truly magical A favourite


  9. says:

    If you're into stuff like this you can read the full reviewGrowing Inward The Blind Owl by by Sadegh HedayatOriginal Review 1981 04 20“I was growing inward incessantly; like an animal that hibernates during the wintertime I could hear other peoples' voices with my ears; my own voice however I could hear only in my throat The loneliness and the solitude that lurked behind me were like a condensed thick eternal night like one of those nights with a dense persistent sticky darkness which waits to pounce on unpopulated cities filled with lustful and vengeful dreams”In “The Blind Owl” by Sadegh Hedayat“My one fear is that tomorrow I may die without having come to know myself”In “The Blind Owl” by Sadegh Hedayat


  10. says:

    What started out to be a slow book found its pace and took off about a uarter of the way in Normally this sluggish start would knock a star off my rating for the book but the remainder was so fantastic it made up for the beginning At first I found the narration fairly clean and clear somewhat akin to Calvino's prose but with too much treacle and self absorbed whining Before long however I learned that Hedayat was merely setting a baseline that led into the narrator's winding abstruse voice and his even surreal perceptions of the people around himOne is never uite sure if the narrator's opium dreams give him relief from his own unreality or whether it is because of his distorted perceptions and feelings about reality lead the narrator to escape into narcosis Dreams opiate laden and sober are so interlaced with the narrator's version of reality that the work is phantasmagoric throughoutHedayat captures these fever dream meanderings and conveys their feeling to the reader by effectively using a sort of literary call and response that revisits events and insights with very slight variations that simultaneously move the reader along and tie the book together Note that I did not say move the plot along Plot in The Blind Owl is a slippery thing Events come and go and come again in slightly different form and with one character's visage projected onto another's to the point that there is little in the way of linear plot If you're a stickler for clear beginning middle and end this book is not for you If however you want to become lost in another world this definitely is for youOne example of this call and response is found in the narrator's journey in a horse drawn hearse As the driver sets off the narrator reports The whip whistled through the air; the horses set off breathing hard The vapour could be seen through the drizzling rain rising from their nostrils like a stream of smoke They moved with high smooth paces Their thin legs which made me think of the arms of a thief whose fingers have been cut off in accordance with the law and the stumps plunged into boiling oil rose and fell slowly and made no sound as they touched the ground The bells around their necks played a strange tune in the damp airAfter the hearse driver has dropped off his passenger he leaves With surprising nimbleness he sprang up and took his place on the driver's seat The whip whistled through the air the horses set off breathing hard The bells around their necks played a strange tune in the damp air Gradually they disappeared into the dense mistAnd again a few pages later he encounters the hearse driver again The old man sprang up with surprising nimbleness and took his place on the driver's seat The whip whistled through the air; the horses set off breathing hard They moved with high smooth paces Their hoofs touched the ground gently and silently The bells around their necks played a strange tune in the damp air In the gaps between the clouds the stars gazed down at the earth like gleaming eyes emerging from a mass of coagulated blood A wonderful sense of tranuility pervaded my whole beingThis layered referencing continues in many guises throughout the book lending it that uality of dream that leaves one confused upon waking as to when certain events took place and in what contextHedayat also portrays a back and forth emotional state within the narrator himself In one paragraph he experiences a kind of agreeable giddiness while in the next his heart was filled with trepidation with no change in circumstance other than that of the narrator's emotional state of mind One feeling that is consistent throughout however is the feeling of shame experienced by the narrator along with a paranoid reaction to laughter as if anyone who laughs is mocking him In fact one gets the sense that the narrator feels mocked by life and death itself The Blind Owl is undergirded by a strange form of existentialism that embraces fear of and hope for the oblivion of death Throughout our life death is beckoning us Has it not happened to everyone suddenly without reason to be plunged into thought and to remain immersed so deeply in it as to lose consciousness of time and place and the working of his own mind? At such times one has to make an effort in order to perceive and recognise again the phenomenal world in which men live One has been listening to the voice of deathTen years after the serialized publication of the book the author committed suicide I am not privy to the author's internal struggles and am not familiar with his emotional landscape but I can see the seed of his suicide in this work In fact the forward notes that many in Iran who read this work themselves committed suicide Like so many other books this is not for the emotionally unstable This is not a happy book and in fact it might even be categorized as horror on par with Brian Evenson's dark literature The seemingly unending river of nightmare seuences in The Blind Owl are reminiscent of scenes from a David Lynch or Brothers uay film Frankly I'm surprised that they haven't tried to do a film version as their style would be perfect for the dark ouvre of this bookSo now you have fair warning If you really enjoy the first 30 pages or so of the book stop Don't go any further But if you are intrigued by the grim promise that this book holds please don't start 30 pages in Give yourself a chance to draw in your breath and hold it through the rest of this suffocating work You're going to need it