Book Review: The Blood of Flowers by Anita Amirrezvani
July’s book club selection was The Blood of Flowers by Anita Amirrezvani. Set in early 1600s Iran, this novel tells the tale of a young girl and her mother, who after the unfortunate death of the girl’s father, are forced to seek out their sole relatives in a far away city, and begin a life completely different than the existence they knew in their tiny village.
The girl (about 15) and her mother are more or less slaves to the whims of their hosts, the step-brother of the girl’s father and his tempestuous and conniving wife. Though essentially reduced to servitude, there are some bright spots in the lives of the main character and her mother. The girl has a thirst for knowledge, particularly the art of Persian rug making, at which her uncle is an expert and employed by the Shah. He teaches her a great deal about the aesthetics of this much beloved art form and she is a good student. She also makes friends with a wealthy girl who teaches her to read and write, but her new friend also uses the girl causing her grief. The mother works brewing herbal medicine for the wealthy neighbors and between her daughters rug making and her cures they hope to save money for a dowry for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl makes some bad choices that anger the relatives, and the aunt then uses her power over the two women to pressure them to accept an unfair and damaging proposition for a sigheh, a three month marriage contract that essentially turns the young girl into a prostitute and eventually puts her at odds with everyone she holds dear. Among all the serious things that happen, the descriptions of her time with her “husband” and all her hard work, it is easy to forget that the main character is still very young. Her age and inexperience eventually cause her to act in ways that she believes are for the better, but whose consequences she has not contemplated fully. These decisions lead the mother and daughter down a dark path into destitution, and difficult choices must be made to ensure their survival.
This is a well crafted novel, with vivid descriptions that allow you to almost smell and taste the world the characters inhabit. The author uses folk tales told by the characters to make important connections and add a sense of history. The main character is never named, an homage to all the unnamed artisans from that time (only great masters were allowed to sign their work).
In general, I enjoyed this book. I was a bit rushed to finish it because of a mix-up at the library, which perhaps made me a bit impatient. The beautiful descriptions that are such an intricate part of this book sometimes feel repetitive and overly flowery. It takes a great deal of exposition before the characters get into the heart of the story, which makes getting into the book more difficult. My least favorite thing about the book was the opening chapter, it starts off describing the girl and her mother and how far they have fallen, though it doesn’t say why. This plot device is neither original nor compelling, I feel it seriously diminishes the tension that the author works so astutely to build. I enjoyed the ending, but it left me feeling as if the novel itself was a long version of the folk tales peppered through its pages. It seems cynical to say this, but given the setting and mores of the time, the finale of the book is a bit too optimistic. All of those criticisms aside, if you have the time and patience for an author who is sometimes a tad too pleased with her own use of metaphor and simile, this is an enjoyable read. I wouldn’t recommend this book for younger girls because it does contains some very detailed descriptions which are sexual in nature. I think it would be a good beach or travel read; it definitely has dark themes and is very sad at times, but it is uplifting in the end, and less depressing than more modern day accounts of the women of Iran.
What we’re reading this month: Aninmal, Mineral, Vegetable: a year of food life by Barbara Kingslover et al.