This article presents a new reading of the Dārāb-nāma (Book of Dārāb, ca. eleventh–twelfth century), a medieval popular narrative in prose (dāstān) ascribed to the storyteller Abū Ṭāhir Ṭarsūsī. While the narrative belongs to the Persian tradition of the Alexander romance, the Alexander figure it depicts bears little resemblance to that presented in high classical verse-forms by the likes of Firdawsī, Niẓāmī, Amīr Khusraw Dihlavī, or Jāmī. Although still a conqueror, legitimate ruler, and champion of Islam, the Alexander of the Dārāb-nāma appears in a strongly negative light: he is lame, cowardly, and sly. In fact, most of his success he owes to his once opponent and later wife, Būrān-dukht: could she be the true hero in the story? Drawing on a critical examination of characters based on Greimas's actantial model, this study probes the authorial program and intended audience of the Dārāb-nāma, and suggests the work can be read as mock-epic, possibly to cater to a Zoroastrian audience.

This article examines Mīr ʿAlī Shīr Navāʾī's Sabʿa-yi Sayyār (889/1484), a Chaghatay rewriting of Niẓāmī's Haft Paykar and Amīr Khusraw Dihlavī's Hasht Bihisht. In the prologue of his masnavī, the Timurid poet expresses harsh criticism against his Persian models. He targets his predecessors’ frame stories, and more specifically their depiction of Bahrām Gūr's behavior while listening to the seven nested narratives. In fact, Navāʾī's reshaping of the poem epitomizes several Timurid trends with regard to the Persianate cultural complex: a tendency toward standardization, as well as a keen interest in Naqshbandī Sufism. Incidentally, the latter aspect shows Jāmī's influence on the Chaghatay polymath's literary output.

This article discusses use of the meter mutaqārib in Persian masnavī (narrative) poetry as related to its content from a comparative perspective. One of the aims is to demonstrate the various connections between a set of narrative poems composed in mutaqārib. The article questions previous assumptions about the form and style of early Persian verse romances and contributes to further discussion of approaches to Persian narrative poetry.

As a practice and experience, ta'zieh lies at the crossroads between ritual and performance, collective lament and recollection, literature, and folklore. Focusing on the experience of the spectator, this paper discusses ta'zieh's liminal status and diverse functions in Iran today. This study is based on observations gathered during fieldwork in the fall of 2017 in Tehran (Grand Bazaar), Isfahan (Falāvarjān), and Kashan (Nushābād). By way of comparison, we further reflect on a video installation by Abbas Kiarostami presented at the Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris in 2003, which challenges common assumptions about the aesthetic and religious effectiveness of ta'zieh. The contrast allows us to elucidate how, by renovating ancient narrative forms, contemporary Iranian performing arts partake in the shaping of individual affects as well as communal emotions.

As part of the collective endeavor to explore the modalities and challenges of the narrative in the Persianate world, this article reconsiders Abbas Kiarostami's Close-Up (1990), a film characterized by a special cinematographic feature. While accounting for what appears to be a story of swindling and identity theft, Kiarostami keeps the viewer in a state of uncertainty about the nature of what he sees, blurring the boundaries between documentary and fiction, truth and lie, through particular narrative and cinematographic choices. Previous scholarship has focused mainly on the aesthetic implications of the staging and its effects on the viewer. The present study proposes a different type of analysis by discussing specific narrative devices from the perspective of cultural anthropology, with particular attention to the recurrence of the zāher/bāten paradigm, suggested as a cipher by Kiarostami himself early on in the film. The examination of the discursive and aesthetic mobilization of these notions brings to light a subtle game of back-and-forth between the desire to disclose deeper meanings and the will to preserve ambiguity and intimacy, allowing for “soft epiphanies” to arise.

The tradition of writing in Iran has a long history, and its continuous development has, from time to time, led to new scripts. A most notable case is that of Perso-Arabic's replacement of Pahlavi script when New Persian replaced Middle Persian, resulting in Zoroastrian priests having difficulties reading and understanding their religious texts. The process of changing scripts is well attested by the tradition of Pāzand. Although Pāzand was considered one of the first types of transliteration in Iran, this tradition was also gradually abandoned due to its reliance on Avestan script, which was and continues to be uncommon. Avestan script is now found in Zoroastrian Middle Persian (Pahlavi) manuscripts, just as Pāzand was traditionally used for earlier texts. Pāzand–i.e., transcription of Middle Persian in the Avestan alphabet–was used for some time, but was eventually abandoned for scripts in common use, i.e., Persian in Persia and Gujarati and Devanagari in India. In this paper, the aim is to identify and categorize this tradition's characteristics in Pahlavi manuscripts, drawing on manuscripts from the fifty-three volumes published by the Asia Institute of the Pahlavi University of Shiraz, as listed in the Appendix.

While the functioning of the postal system in Iran before 1500 and after 1800 has been studied, this article analyzes, based entirely on primary sources, the operation and characteristics of the Iranian postal system between 1500 and 1800 for the very first time. Such a study enables scholars to better understand the functioning of communication between both government officials and private individuals in Safavid, Afshari, and Zand Iran. During this time, there were two types of messengers: express-mounted couriers (chapar) for official business and foot messengers (shaters) for both official and private mail. The designation of qased was rarely used to denote mail foot messengers.

This article considers three temporary and reversible penal shaming acts in nineteenth-century Iran: the shaving or cutting of hair, irrespective of gender; the shaving or cutting of men's facial hair; and the forcible removal of headgear or the coerced wearing of silly headgear. Drawing on anthropological, historical, and sociological studies of hair, this study argues that hair and hat punishments embodied elements of ritual, sexuality, social control, and marginalization. In order to understand the meaning of these penal acts, the article looks at general taboos around hair and head exposure alongside licit and voluntary forms of cutting or shaving hair. Illicit sex, heresy, and alcohol consumption were recurring moral crimes most often associated with such forms of humiliating punishment. Since restoration of honor was not the sole prerogative of the government, these punishments were often carried out by those acting on behalf of a religious authority or individually and collectively by ordinary subjects outraged by a moral violation.

This paper examines Mirza Rahim Khan's Persian translation (1885) of Clement Markham's A General Sketch of the History of Persia (1874) as a historical event. To this end, this article looks at two copies of the translation manuscripts: one written by the translator, which also includes revisions of his first draft, and the other an illuminated copy presented to Naser al-Din Shah, the fourth Qajar shah. A close comparative examination of the texts shows the translation reverberates three distinct voices: the writer, the translator, and his patron, the shah. The translator's shifts of meaning show that the changes, far from being slight and local, affect the whole text, resulting in a different narrative, mostly conforming to the ruling system. However, there are cases where Mirza Rahim expresses his dissident voice in the translation. Furthermore, this examination also reveals the socio-political condition under which the translation took place, shedding light on aspects of Qajar rule only revealed by analyzing translations of the time.

This study argues, contrary to some opinions, that shadow performance existed in Iran from at least the tenth to the twentieth century. Through a textual analysis of newly discovered ancient texts, two plays specifically, this study shows how shadow performance originated in the Indian subcontinent, was transported from Iran to the historical region now known as Iraq, and then spread to Egypt, developing over time through its historical progression. This study also looks at the reasons for the decline of shadow performance in Iran, including the centuries-old Iranian Sufi criticism of the form and the establishment of the Safavid dynasty, which introduced Shiism as the official religion of Iran in the sixteenth century. Certain Iranian Sufisms considered shadow performance debaucherous until the fifteenth century. After the sixteenth century, influenced by the Turkish Karagöz, shadow performance was considered a theatrical form associated with Sunni infidels. Consequently, shadow performance was replaced with Muharram mourning rituals, ritualistic forms that reflect Shia identity.

This is a review article of a three-volume book in Persian by Ali Akbar Tashakori on the social history of Yazdi Zoroastrians in medieval and modern times.1 The work goes beyond the history of the Yazdi community, encompassing the broader history of Iranian Zoroastrians. Despite certain novelties, the volumes largely rely on a conventional reconstruction of the history of Iranian Zoroastrians in the second millennium CE. The foundational elements of this reconstruction include the gradual Islamization of Iran and the subsequent “retreat” of Zoroastrians to the “marginal” regions of Yazd and Kerman, the challenging conditions faced by Zoroastrians in medieval and early modern times, the beginning of Iranian Zoroastrians’ social and intellectual “emancipation” in the nineteenth century with Parsi assistance, the community's increasing political and economic influence in the late Qajar and early Pahlavi eras, and the Pahlavis’ exceptional role in elevating the status of Zoroastrians within wider Iranian society. Tashakori's extensive reliance on these narratives offers an opportunity to not only review his own new interpretations, but also to reassess these long-standing assumptions. Additionally, the article highlights neglected primary sources pertaining to the Yazdi community.