1. This essay is a revised version of a chapter in Eight Trends in Modern Persian Poetry, the unpublished dissertation of this author at the University of Texas at Austin, 1981, in which the works of seven other major poets, along with their approaches toward the “problems” of Iran, are studied.

2. Saffarzadeh, Tahereh, “Goft-e Gu ba Mohammad Hoquqi,” Harakat va Diruz (Tehran, 1978), p. 129.Google Scholar

3. Later on, in 1971, Saffarzadeh offered the following explanation of her dislike of metrical patterns. She said that one of the dangers of the Nimaic rhythms, which she considers to be as confining as the traditional ‘aruz rhythms, is that after a poet reads the poems of Forugh Farrokhzad, for example, which have “instinctive melodies” that are very attractive to the ear, the poet-reader unconsciously applies not only Forugh's rhythms to his or her own writing but along with those rhythms, he or she also carries Forugh's poetic atmosphere into his or her own poetry. Saffarzadeh adds that this “rhythmic influence” results in the influenced poet's loss of individuality, and states that a large portion of a whole generation of poets became “faceless” because Forugh's poetic atmosphere and language dominated their own, once they had accepted her rhythms.

But the most immediate dangers of having a rhythmic pattern, according to Saffarzadeh, are twofold, one the direct result of the other. “Presuming that in the first two or three lines of the poem, it is the content that determines the rhythm,” Saffarzadeh argues, “in the rest of the poem it is the rhythm which forces itself upon the poem.” Thus, after the first few lines, the poet's muse pauses and searches for synonyms that would fit the rhythm that has already been determined in the course of the first lines. As a result: (1) the poet loses “the creative flow [of the poem] at the time of writing,” and (2) the poet, by choosing “other words” which would fit her rhythmic pattern, brings in the connotative load of these words to the poem also, which in turn alters the meaning of what she had first intended to say. Thus, Saffarzadeh believes that Dylan Thomas, who rewrote a poem 200 times, was bound to end up with a beautiful product. But this product “had nothing to do with what he first wanted to say.” Ibid., pp. 118-119, 138.

4. Ibid., pp. 8-9.

5. Idem., “Zadgah,” Tanin dar Delta (Tehran, 1970), pp. 110-111.

6. Farrokhzad, Forugh, Bargozideh-ye ‘Ash'ar-e Forugh Farrokhzad (Tehran, 1964), pp. 145–147.Google Scholar

7. Saffarzadeh, Tanin dar Delta, p. 77.

8. Ibid., pp. 112, 121-123.

9. Ibid., p. 113.

10. Ibid., pp. 94-96.

11. There are, however, some poems in The Red Umbrella (Iowa City, 1969), which were probably first written in Persian. “Nostalgia,” for example, is one such poem whose engagé and very Iranian content seems to argue for an audience other than Americans. The language of “Nostalgia” also points to the possibility that this poem was originally written in Persian. Aside from unexplained allusive words such as “Kalb Surah” (a verse from the Quran), when the poet says, “We are nostalgic …/ for our own bread, our own compliments,” it is felt that she meant “deleman tang shodeh ast” for “nostalgic,” and “t'arof” for “compliments,” and the “translation” of this poem in Sadd va Bazovan (Tehran, 1971), verifies this “feeling.” On the other hand, a poem such as “Invite Me to a Sandwich of Love,” does not read as well in its Persian version. And a poem like “On Resigning” works well in both languages.

12. During this period, Saffarzadeh learned about a variety of poets and poems. For example, she found Zbigniev Herbert's poetry to be a more powerful kind of engagé verse than Mayakovsky's. She discovered many similarities between the aesthetic theories of Nima and a number of Western theories on poetry, ranging from those of Plato to that of Archibald Macliesh. Through her studies of the cinema, which was her minor at the university, she realized the limitations of a condensed artistic expression, believing that a traditional director who filmed a particular scene in three or four seconds was as misguided as Andy Warhol, who kept the camera on the scene for a whole half hour. The first, she thought, because of too much condensation, distanced itself from the nature of life, and the second, because of a total lack of condensation, distanced itself from art. She concluded that John Cassavetes in “Faces” had reached the ideal expression through five-minute shots. And this controlled condensation was reflected in her own poems. She believed that a poet must take the best that any “movement” has to offer and not “fit” any particular “movement” but always remain “contemporary.” Thus, for example, she believed that Octavio Paz had remained a metaphysical symbolist still obsessed with the Spanish Civil War, whereas Pablo Neruda, who had much in common with the imagists, the surrealists, and the symbolists, among many others, could not be categorized because he was truly “contemporary.” This surge of information, which appeared in an interview with Hoquqi taped in 1971, was so overwhelming that even Saffarzadeh herself, at times, lost control over what she herself thought and what she had learned through her studies. For example, she would quote from Ezra Pound or Shelley without acknowledging the quotations, probably because she was not aware herself. At any rate, she had indeed acquired an impressive and well-comprehended knowledge of international poetry.

13. Saffarzadeh, The Red Umbrella, p. 18.

14. Ibid., p. 17.

15. Idem., Sadd va Bazovan, p. 54.

16. Idem., The Red Umbrella, p. 17.

17. Ibid., p. 12.

18. Ibid., p. 20.

19. Ibid., p. 22.

20. Ibid., p. 25.

21. Ibid., p. 15.

22. It appeared in Persian as “Az She'r-e Boland-e Deltangi,” [From the Long Poem, “Nostalgia”], Sadd va Bazovan, pp. 25-27.

23. Saffarzadeh, The Red Umbrella, p. 11.

24. Idem., Tanin dar Delta, pp. 4-30.

25. Perhaps because Saffarzadeh had attempted to diagnose and to offer a simple panacea to the whole world, “The First Journey” had acquired a disharmonious allusive context, righteous tone, and lack of unity, and as a work of art, had failed.

The two main objections that the critics had were best presented in the reviews of Farhad ‘Abedini and Mahmud Azad. In “Sha'rehha-ye Ba'd as Forugh,” Negin 10, No. 118 (March 1974), pp. 50-51, ‘Abedini claimed that Saffarzadeh was “too Westernized.” And in “Sher'ri Anbashteh as Adaha-ye Rowshanfekraneh,” Keyhan (Feb. 21, 1971), p. 6, Azad wrote, “Saffarzadeh, apparently in imitation of American and English poets of protest, writes socio-political poems…in a journalistic language, and a bad journalistic language for that matter.” But in such articles as “Hafez-e Shiraz be Ravayat-e Ahmad Shamlu,” Keyhan, No. 9927 (July 29, 1976), Saffarzadeh exhibits flawless Persian prose and familiarity with traditional Persian poetry.

26. Saffarzadeh, Tanin dar Delta, pp. 32-47.

27. On the question of whether Eliot's “The Waste Land” ends with “no progression” as F. R. Leavis had suggested, Cleanth Brooks writes: “It is true that the protagonist does not witness the survival of the Waste Land; but there are two important relationships involved in this case: a personal one as well as a general one. If secularization has destroyed or is likely to destroy modern civilization, the protagonist still has a private obligation to fulfill. Even if the civilization is breaking up…there remains the personal obligation: ‘Shall I at least set my lands in order?’” “The Waste Land: Critique of the Myth,” A Collection of Critical Essays on “The Waste Land,” Jay Martin, ed. (Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1968), p. 80.

28. Saffarzadeh, Safar-e Panjom (Tehran, 1977), pp. 100-101.

29. Mehdi Akhavan Sales, “Akhar-e Shahnameh,” Rahiyan-e She'r-e Emruz, Daryush Shahin, ed. (Tehran, 1971), pp. 57-61.

30. Saffarzadeh, “Goft-e Gu ba Mohammad ‘Ali Esfahani,” Harakat va Diruz, p. 172.

31. Idem., Safar-e Panjom, p. 28.

32. Nima Yushij, “Barf,” Majmu'eh-ye ‘Ash’ar-e Nima Yushij (Tehran, 1955), p. 248.

33. Shamlu, Ahmad, “Lowh,” Ayda, Derakht, Khanjar va Khatereh, 3rd ed. (Tehran, 1976/77), pp. 130–131.Google Scholar

34. Farrokhzad, Forugh, “Kasi keh Mesl-e Hichkas Nist,” Iman Biyavarim be Aghaz-e Fasl-e Sard (Tehran, 1975), pp. 64–65.Google Scholar

35. Saffarzadeh, Safar-e Panjom, pp. 36-44.

36. Ibid., p. 44.

37. Idem., “Goft-e Gu ba Mohammad ‘Ali Esfahani,” p. 162.

38. Idem., Safar-e Panjom, p. 88.

39. Ibid., pp. 19-20.

40. Ibid., p. 68.

41. Idem., “Goft-e Gu ba Mohammad ‘Ali Esfahani,” pp. 172-173.

42. Idem., Safar-e Panjom, p. 84.

43. Ibid., p. 60.

44. Concerning the “sacrificial death” in Eliot's poem, Cleanth Brooks writes (“The Waste Land: Critique of the Myth,” p. 60), “The Waste Land is built on a major contrast….The contrast is between two kinds of life and two kinds of death. Life devoid of meaning is death; sacrifice, even the sacrificial death, may be life-giving, an awakening to life.”

45. Saffarzadeh, Safar-e Panjom, p. 44.

46. Ibid., p. 57.

47. Ibid., p. 54.

48. Ibid., pp. 47-49.

49. Ibid., pp. 47, 55, and 60.

50. Ibid., p. 59.

51. Ibid., pp. 73-74.

52. Idem., Bey'at ba Bidari (Tehran, 1979), p. 23.

53. Ibid., p. 60.

54. Ibid., p. 27.

55. Zan-e Ruz, p. 756 (Esfand 26, 1979), p. 5.

56. Saffarzadeh, “Mosahebeh ba Zan-e Ruz,” Zan-e Ruz, No. 755 (Esfand 18, 1979), p. 65.

57. Idem., Safar-e Panjom, p. 69.

58. Ibid., p. 63.

59. Title of M. Dehravi's review, “Sha'er-e Ruydadha-ye Ruzaneh,” Bamdad, no. 253 (Farvardin 19, 1980), p. 6.