Negar Djavadi; trans. by Tina A. Kover
Disoriental by Negar Djavadi, translated from the French by Tina A. Kover, won several writing awards in France. And deservedly so. The title word combines the disorientation characterizing the immigrant experience with that of families moving from the orient to Europe. It also applies to the disintegration of a large, cohesive family unit uprooted from its homeland to scatter all over the globe.
The novel opens at a fertility clinic in Paris. Our narrator is Kimiâ Sadr, a young Iranian immigrant awaiting her appointment to be artificially inseminated. This pivotal moment in her life prompts her to explore who she is and where she came from by going back in time to describe her extended family. She does so in a series of fragments and anecdotes populated by great grandparents, grandparents, parents, six uncles, aunts, two older sisters, and cousins.
The first part of the novel (“Side A”) introduces the Sadr family, an upper class, flamboyant medley of characters. One side of the family is originally Armenian, the other Iranian. Beginning with her great-grandfather Montazemolmolk with his harem of fifty-two wives, Kimiâ traces the generations until she arrives at her parents Darius and Sara. Her father, a journalist, wrote articles critical of the Shah’s regime and of the Khomeini regime that followed since both stifled democratic institutions and brutally clamped down on dissidents and freedom of expression. His life in danger, her father escapes to Paris and arranges for his wife and daughters to join him. With her mother and sisters, Kimiâ experiences the harrowing journey of being smuggled out of Iran to Turkey before finally arriving in Paris.
Side B describes Kimiâ’s coming of age in Europe, her struggles with her sexual identity, her increasing estrangement from her family, and her search to find an anchor in a foreign culture. One of the great strengths of this book is Kimiâ’s manifestation of the struggle facing new immigrants. In order to be re-born in the culture of their adopted country, immigrants are obliged to sever themselves from the fabric of their original culture. Kimiâ’s parents are shadows of their former selves, never able to fully adapt to life in France because their hearts and minds remain in Iran. Her sisters marry and successfully assimilate but try to preserve some vestiges of their traditional culture to pass on to their children.
Djavadi skillfully weaves recent events of Iran’s turbulent history into Kimiâ’s narrative. Footnotes are conveniently included on the political and historical events to assist readers unfamiliar with Iran’s recent history. The narrative unfolds in a non-linear fashion. The scene in the fertility clinic is peppered with multiple journeys back to different points in time, anchoring Kimiâ to her family and culture. The anecdotes and fragments are immersive, capturing in evocative detail the sights, sounds, and smells of the characters populating her life, from the way they look, to their activities, to the food they eat.
But perhaps the greatest strength of this novel lies in the narrator’s voice. Kimiâ frequently addresses the reader directly. Her tone is intimate, as if she is sharing her life story with a close friend. She can be funny, informative, serious, sarcastic, complex, confused, and conflicted. But throughout it all, she is authentic, engaging, charming, and believable.
This is a compelling narrative capturing the immigrant experience of an upper-class family while seamlessly threading it with the personal and political history that drove them to flee their homeland.
Very highly recommended.