Abbas Maroufi; Tempting author behind the glass of bookstores

Ardibehesht 27 Zadrooz is a writer whose works wink at the audience in shop windows. Abbas Maroufi was born in Tehran in 1336. He is a graduate of Tehran fine arts in the field of dramatic arts and has been a literature teacher in Tehran high schools for about eleven years.

BingMag.com Abbas Maroufi; Tempting author behind the glass of bookstores

Ardibehesht 27 Zadrooz is a writer whose works wink at the audience in shop windows. Abbas Maroufi was born in Tehran in 1336. He is a graduate of Tehran fine arts in the field of dramatic arts and has been a literature teacher in Tehran high schools for about eleven years.

Abbas Maarofi's first short story collection called "Roberoi Aftab" was published in Tehran in 1359. Before and after that, his stories were published in some newspapers; But it was with the publication of "Symphony of the Dead" that his name was established as a writer. This famous Iranian journalist and writer has won many domestic and international awards and has left Iran for some time. Abbas Maarofi is now living in Germany, he continues to write, and his mastery of modern ways of writing stories and his knowledge of history and mythology have placed him in the group of the most popular Iranian writers.

Childhood and adolescence of Abbas Maarofi

It was on 27 May 1337 that the famous Abbas was born in Tehran. A famous family resided in the traditional and prosperous Bazarche neighborhood of Naib-ul-Sultaneh. Abbas's childhood was spent without serious challenges and problems. He was the calm and peaceful child of the family. As he himself said, he loved his grandmother very much, that's why he spent most of his time with her. Abbas's grandmother also lived in the same neighborhood with their family, that's why Abbas's parents didn't worry about their child moving away from home.

Abbas went to school after the age of 6 and finally to Marvi High School. He was admitted to one of the prominent and famous high schools of that time. He received his diploma in mathematics from the same school, but he realized that he was not interested in mathematics and technical fields and had to take a different path. As a student of dramatic literature, Abbas was able to enter Tehran University's Faculty of Fine Arts and continue his studies there. At the university, he showed his special literary talent to the professors and began to write seriously. To experience writing seriously, he went to various jobs.

He also worked in his father's shop for a while. Participation in goldsmithing, laundry and atari work made this writer to have a better and more accurate mentality than other people and to some extent distance himself from his privileged social class. This knowledge is also crystallized in his works.

Abbas, a famous man, was no stranger to writing and has been writing ever since he was in school. His first collection of stories was published in 1359, which was called "Facing the Sun". Before the publication of his first collection of stories, he had met Mohammad Ali, Hoshang Golshiri and Mohammad Sepanlu and participated in their literary criticism and fiction writing classes. He started "Symphony of the Dead".
A famous literary activity in the sixties was affected by the atmosphere of war and radical political changes, and he found more time to focus on writing his great novels. /p>

Artistic management was also one of the other works and activities of Abbas Maroufi. He was the director of the Tehran Symphony Orchestra, public relations director and director of stage performances of this group in the late sixties. At the same time, Maarofi also published a magazine called Music of Song, which is considered one of his most valuable works in the field of art. A brilliant literary work was published, but the amount of complaints and external pressures on this magazine was high, and finally, Marouhi and the editorial board decided to stop its publication. Apparently, one of the notes in which the reactivation of the Writers' Union was mentioned led to increased pressure for the inactivity of this publication. In addition to Gerdoun magazine and Song magazine, Abbas Maroufi also published Aineandiseh literary magazine in Iran. Stopping the publication of Gurdoun literary magazine, Abbas Maroufi came to the conclusion that he cannot easily operate in the field of literary press inside the country. That is why he decided to leave Iran. He chose Germany as his place of residence and activity. He was able to receive the literary scholarship of the Heinrich Bell Foundation due to his brilliant records and high ability. Abbas Maroufi was also the manager of Heinrich Bell's house for a year, but after a while he had to try other jobs, although this was not a new thing for him and he had experience of doing various jobs in his youth.

He worked as a manager of a hotel in Berlin for a while, and after that he took over the administration of one of the country's libraries, where he also held classes on story writing.

In 2002, Abbas Maroufi founded a bookstore in Berlin He gradually expanded that collection. Khaneh Sadegh Hedayat is the largest Persian-language bookstore and publishing house in Europe and publishes Persian literary works without audit. But it is not a simple publishing house, but various conferences and workshops in the field of literary criticism, story writing and poetry reading are held there.
Abbas Maroufi considers his bookstore an art academy. Iftikharat Abbas Maarofi

Abbas Maarofi has published more than 30 plays, story collections, literary criticism and novels during his career. The series of famous literary activities has caused him to win various domestic and international awards. In 2001, he won the Philosophical Literary Publishing Foundation Sur Kamp for his book Symphony of the Dead. A year later, he received the award of the Artold Zweig Literary Foundation. The Canadian Union of Journalists and the Hellman Hammett Foundation have also given prizes to Abbas Maaroori.

This powerful writer and poet is currently 66 years old. His diagnosis with cancer two years ago caused a wave of worry and fear among his friends and fans. In the rest of this note, we will get to know some of the works of Abbas Maroufi.

The book "Name of all the dead Yahyas"

The book Names of all the dead Yahyas in 2017 Released. Abbas Maroufi said that the writing of this work took thirty years. This story also has a sad and disturbing theme and traces of mythology and folk and religious stories can be seen in it. The above book has a dual nature and is a mixture of past and present, myth and reality, and sadness and joy. The presence of these contrasting elements makes the tone of the story more poetic and heartwarming. The name of the book is also taken from the title of one of Mohammad Ali Sepanlu's poems. As mentioned, the famous Abbas was under the influence of this poet from his youth and participated in his classes. It may be interesting for you that this story intersects with other stories and characters created by Abbas Maroufi and looks at them from a different angle. A young and mature boy points out that he is the result of bad times and unfortunate events. In this book, we get to know the life story of the referee, his wife and their children, and we get to know the details of their lives. At the beginning of the book, only the life of these people is mentioned, but gradually and with the progress of the story, the scattered points of the book are connected to each other and the ambiguities disappear. But it seems that the author is not interested in letting such a story end simply, that's why unexpected events happen in the final pages of the book. Because Zechariah and his wife had no children in their old age, and God gave them a son named Yahya. The referee and his wife also experience such an event seven years after the death of their last child and they have a new child. God brought him to the world to review the sufferings and sufferings of some of his beloved prophets in him, to see where is the tolerance threshold of a person? where does it break Which load can be carried by one body? Then he added to the rain one by one, asking to see how many of them he would kill. How many mountains are these noble creatures? how much sea how much desert If it is not, why is it called "Ashraf of Creations"?

Love is just a number, a pen. There is no other way. Only the type of spending is different. It is a honey beehive with the taste of world flowers. There should be no doubt that chamomile is different from marshmallow. Tofir daffodil with Maryam flower is a thousand years. But until you put honey in your mouth, you taste the fragrance of all the flowers in the world and you only mention one. He can know his rule

go in his lonely swallow

touch himself inside and outside with his finger

find out what his size is, who is he?

p>Where is it?

Not everyone knows this

Not everyone applies this

Pekar Farhad's novel

"Farhad's body" is one of those novels that are written as a continuation of another story. This book cannot be fully understood without reading Buf Kor Sadiq Hedayat. In the story of Buf Kor Sadegh Hedayat, there is an "Ethereal Woman" who is a symbolic and complex character and there are various speculations about her.

The Ethereal Woman is actually a wandering spirit belonging to the past world that found its way to today's era.

In the story "Farhad's Body", the same character appears again and the story is narrated by him.

The book "Farhad's Body" is a tender story that It deals with the pain and suffering of women. Every time, the ethereal woman takes on the body of a woman in a certain era and narrates her life and sorrows for us. The women in this story are not passive people and strive to achieve happiness, but often do not achieve it. The failure to achieve happiness here is not affected by luck and fortune, nor is it related to the personality characteristics of the women in the story, but rather to the institutions and mechanisms. It is like an iron cage that hinders their growth and development and brings them a life full of pain and suffering.

In better words, Farhad's Pekar novel can be considered as a narrative about the historical suffering of women in Iran. Those women live in different periods of time, but they have one thing in common: trying to be rare and not reaching it.

The novel "Farhad's Body" can be considered a work close to postmodern literature. A part of this closeness is due to Abbas Maroufi's narration of the story, which is special to him.

In the novel "Farhad's Body" doubts are sprinkled, the atmosphere of this story is full of uncertainty and it becomes illusory and uncertain. described This important component also makes the above work closer to postmodern novels and writing style. Finally, it should be noted that this novel is influenced by one of the characters in Sadegh Hedayat's Buf Kor novel. For this reason, Farhad's figure willy-nilly takes on the color of postmodernism.

This fascinating literary work is full of detailed references to the history and past of Iran, and in it you can see the author's attachment to the past and Iranian myths. Wherever Abbas Maarofi wants to take us to the mood of the same era, we feel that we are observing that atmosphere and historical context with our own eyes. to win the Arthur Zweig Foundation Award. The Phoenix publishing group published this book in 2001.

In a part of the novel "Farhad's Body", we read:

I straightened up to see him clearly. But the hatch was closed and the old man was still laughing. The painter dropped his brush and said it was ridiculous. I tried to go back to my original state. But the lotus flower had fallen from my hand and was gone with the water. I was scared I don't know why I was shaking. It was as if I had woken up from a long sleep and could not remember anything. The hunchbacked old man had sad eyes and was squeezing my hair in his claws. I don't know how long I was like that, I just remember that it got dark and I was thinking about him. To those black and penetrating eyes where fatigue and depression waved and showed that he was different from all other people. He does not look to tear.

It showed that he is looking for something that maybe is in me. He was begging me. It needed my clothes, hair, eyes and every part of my body. It was as if he wanted to return to his youth, childhood and infancy. I understood his need for my maternal love. As if it wants to go back to my womb.

Inside me, to the warmth of my womb, where the human being lies and spins in a circle in his blood. And this endless cycle of life was summed up in his wish. He was pushing back the dust with both hands to see a clear image, but every second passed the image became darker and he became more rebellious and weaker, more and more puzzled. What could I do?

We lived in a town with thatched houses. With short walls, you could go from one roof to another. With our children's games where one would become a king and the other a tailor. I was also the king's daughter and the tailor wanted to take the king's daughter. She had her foal's reins wrapped around her small hands and the foal was getting impatient. The king said: "Baby tailor! How many stars are there in the sky?"

The tailor said, "Qibla al-Alam. How much is my horse's hair?"

The king pointed his index finger at him and said: "Tailor's child! Where is the center of the earth?"

The boy was looking for a stone. I took a stone from behind the king's throne and gave it to him. The stall nail knocked the foal's reins to the ground. He pulled up his pants and stood firmly in front of the king. But the foal was impatient. On the other side of the square where we were. A painter puts a picture of a hunchbacked old man on the screen. The pen used paint and turned the dry cedar leaves green. The sun was shining fiercely and sweat was dripping on us.

The horse was impatient and a voice from the ground announced an ominous incident that we did not know what it was. The king said, "Well done, tailor boy." From the east to the west, I have not seen anyone with your wisdom. good job. I gave you half of my throne. My land..."

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Symphony of the dead

BingMag.com Abbas Maroufi; Tempting author behind the glass of bookstores

Symphony of the Dead is a very tragic but very beautiful and great book that will remain in the reader's mind forever. This book is the story of a family that lives in Ardabil during World War II. A family that is a symbol of a society where suffocation is raging and intellectuals are rarely found in it.

The kind of famous narrative in Symphony of the Dead is unique. The narrator of the story changes several times and each time the story is told from a different person's point of view. In parts of the story, an event is told from the point of view of two different people, and the reader understands the feelings and thoughts of two people. While reading the text of the book Symphony of the Dead, we constantly see changes in time and place, and this adds to the charm of the book.

This novel won an award in 2001 from the Philosophical Literary Publishing Foundation "Surkamp" and has been translated into German, English, Istanbul Turkish, Azeri Turkish and Kurdish.

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The year of riot

BingMag.com Abbas Maroufi; Tempting author behind the glass of bookstores

"The tree had a long shadow. Terrible and strange. When the sun rose, its shadow passed in front of all the shops and houses. A story in which everything is regular and not regular; A story that is historical and not historical; A story whose narrative is linear and at the same time full of adventure.

The story is mainly narrated by a girl whose father is a colonel and who keeps falling down in her desire to climb the ladder of promotion. The colonel is never invited to the capital, and his daughter, instead of becoming the wife of the crown prince and queen of Iran, surrenders her heart to the love of a strange potter and inevitably becomes the wife of a doctor who ends up being his murderer. The scrutinizing picture of the oppression of the Iranian woman, the oppression of the male Iranian artist and the fearful history of an ancient land has made the year of riot a novel that will never be forgotten. The novel "Feridon had three sons" is the life story of a political fighter in 1357. After the revolution, he is forced to leave his country and lives in a sanatorium due to mental disorders. This book has four chapters and during these chapters we will get to know the life of this person's family and friends. Many criticisms about the publication of this book finally convinced the author to publish it for free on the Internet. Of course, this book was published in German in Farsi, and then its German translation attracted the attention of European thinkers and critics. The book "Feridon had three sons" can be considered a novel with political themes in which a part of Iran's contemporary history and its influential events are mentioned. Abbas Maroufi is mostly known as a writer, but he has also translated books. This book is the story of the life of a young Jewish boy named Musa who lives in the ghetto of Paris with his family and Musa spends a boring and dry life with his father. He has a sullen, angry and sad father who has no love for Musa. Musa's mother left this family because of her husband's bad behavior, and young Musa is also responsible for running the house. All these factors have worked hand in hand so that Musa also has a painful life. But Musa's acquaintance with a Muslim man causes his life to undergo fundamental changes.

This book was written by Eric Emmanuel Schmidt, a French-Belgian philosopher, author and playwright. He was born on March 28, 1960 in Lyon, France. Emmanuel's family was one of the sports celebrities of the French society and they have won various medals in athletics and boxing.

As mentioned, Eric became interested in this field after going to a theater show with his mother. After finishing his high school, this writer went to the university and continued to study until the doctorate in the field of philosophy. After finishing his studies, he taught for a while as a teacher at the high school of Cherbourg and then turned to playwriting. The story of Monsieur Ibrahim and the flowers of the Qur'an is one of his most popular works. This famous writer has been living in Belgium since 2092, and since 2008 he has been able to obtain Belgian citizenship. Eric is now more than 60 years old and has won several well-known and distinguished literary awards during his career. The above book was translated and published in 2014 by Qaqnoos Publications.

In a part of the story "Monsieur Ibrahim and the Flowers of the Qur'an", we read:

Paandaz wanted a birth certificate. With this voice and my body - bloated and like a sack of sugar - they will doubt anyone who said I am 16 years old. It is not unlikely that they have seen me growing up with a shopping basket all these years.

At the end of the street next to the entrance, a new lady was standing. Plump and beautiful, like a picture.

I showed him my money. He laughed and said: "So you are sixteen years old?" "Yes, from this morning." We went up together. I could not believe it. He was twenty-two years old. He was older than me. And now it was mine. He taught me how to wash myself and how to make love... Of course I knew it myself, but I let him speak to be happy, besides, I liked his voice.

His voice was a bit stubborn and A little sad.

I was semi-conscious the whole time. Finally, he caressed my hair and said under my ear: "You should come back and bring me a present."

This could have ruined all my happiness. I forgot the little gift. I lacked that! I "was a man" a man baptized between the legs of a woman. My knees were shaking so much that I could hardly keep myself on my feet, the trouble had begun. I had forgotten that gift.

I quickly returned home. I threw myself in my room. I looked around me. I took the only valuable thing I could and ran straight to Behesht alley. The lady is right there at the entrance was standing I gave him my teddy.

It was almost these days that I met Monsieur Ibrahim. As long as I can remember, Monsieur Ibrahim was old, everyone in "Abi" alley and "Fabourg Poissioner" alley could remember that Monsieur Ibrahim always had this grocery store. From eight in the morning until midnight, he was squatting between the cash register and sanitary items, and he couldn't get out of his seat. He wears a gray robe over his white shirt. His ivory teeth were under his thin and thin mustache. His eyes were green and brown like pistachios and were brighter than his skin, which was full of age spots.

It could be said that Monsieur Ibrahim is a mature person. Maybe because at least forty years ago, he was the only Arab in the Jewish neighborhood. Or maybe because he always smiled and was quiet. Maybe because he retreated from the troubles of life, especially his Parisian type. As long as he could, he would not budge. It was like a branch attached to his stool. He never filled his shelves in front of anyone - whoever it was - and he always disappeared from midnight to eight in the morning, and no one knew where he was going.

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The book Sailors of the Bluer Island

The book "The Sailors of the Bluer Island" contains four collections of short stories by Abbas Maroufi. There are a number of short stories in each of these collections. Many of the above short stories have a social and political theme and refer to the imposed post-war atmosphere, and the effects of the war can be seen in them. This book is recommended for all those who like to get acquainted with Iranian short stories and want to start studying the works of Abbas Maroufi. The above book has a total of 33 short stories. Phoenix Publications published this work for the first time in the eighties.

In a part of the book "Seafarers of the Bluer Island", we read:

You remember a rainy night when you get on the subway from Gardelion Station. On a rainy night, a man with a cap and a bony body and shiny eyes got out of a car. He gave the book packages to the driver and started to go down the stairs in the rain. take the subway reach his home and commit suicide two days later. The woman who was sitting in the car next to the driver turned and looked through the rear window of the car. A black outline moved away from Adam's loneliness in the light of the cars and seemed to be hunched over in the humid darkness of the night. The woman said, "God, let me die." And three women were huddled under an umbrella and looking at the slippery figure.

Now you look at the woman in front of you and then you stare at the tall and diagonal windows of the subway. The image of the woman is wearing a shapoo hat and is sitting straight as if she is being photographed. On the other side, a man puts his dog to sleep under a chair and caresses its throat with his hand. Two blacks laugh loudly. And a long winding subway passes under the city. Sometimes someone comes and someone leaves. You are bored and think of the theater and you remember Homa, Antigone Homa.

You walk to the shuttle station, get out of the subway and go up the steep slope of a cobbled alley. A girl comes to you with a basket of flowers. You give a forced smile, bend your way and pass. what was it like You didn't look at it at all. Maybe thin and bloodless with a pointed nose and combed hair that must have been gathered with a yellow clip on the left side of his head; With a basket of colorful flowers hanging from a skinny, bony elbow. Why didn't you look? You had told Antigone to leave.

You had said that Paris does not have any sense of Antigone at all. Antigone's hair must be messy. Jealous and restless with a brother who was killed and left without a grave. And finally, he was buried in the back of a mountain, without a gravestone, next to the others. You had said that you are acting as if you are yourself, but I am not Croon.

He said: "Then who are you?"

You said: "I, I am." "

He knew that at night after the performance, you stand behind the wall of the city theater in the dark and look at his car. And you said that this is not true at all. You don't have time at all,

You don't even have the motivation, if he means the stone statue of Othello that they put behind the wall of the city theater, what does it have to do with me? And he laughed. he laughed. he laughed! No one in Tehran dares to mention Othello's name, let alone make a statue of him. You said: "What should I do now?" He looked at you and pointed at you. He pulled his hair and let it fall behind his head and the pile of hair overflowed and came back to its original place. He sipped his glass of tea without sugar and looked at you.

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The Pendulum Book of Our Memories and Two Other Plays

Abbas Mahori writes in the introduction of this book that the play "Pendulum of our memories" was ready to be published in Iran many years ago, but it was not published. In 1374, this play was supposed to be performed by the well-known theater director Hossein Atefi. But after many rehearsals and struggles, it was not allowed to be performed, and even though the name was changed, it was banned from performing. Finally, after many years, in 2002, this play along with two other plays was allowed to be published by the Phoenix Publishing Group. did Abbas Maroumi named his work as Abbas Milani. It has been presented by a famous Iranian writer, researcher and translator.

"Pendulum of our memories" takes place in a special and strange atmosphere of a watchmaking shop, and at the same time vague sounds of demonstrations and chanters enter the shop. The watchmaker also focuses all his attention outside and tries to hear the voices of people outside, and even though someone comes into his shop, he does not notice his presence. This person claims that he knows the watchmaker and no matter how familiar he shows, the watchmaker tells him that he does not remember him due to his poor memory and the large number of his customers. The stranger talks about a silver pocket watch that was damaged and ruined due to an argument and fight that was not serious. A watch that is a souvenir of his grandfather. It is from here that discussions and conversations with a humorous tone between these two characters take place and create the story.> on top of the Mashhad Haydar platform while traveling. The great shepherd is grazing. Tarvardi is playing dirt on the right side of the platform. You can hear the bleating of sheep and the barking of several dogs.

Parallel scene: On the right side of the scene, a large wooden tripod can be seen. The little shepherd (in black clothes) is tied upside down and someone is whipping him.

The scene is dimly lit by local light.

Moshad Haider: Hey Clutch! Hai Hai!

Big Chuyan: (walking) This dog is humiliating us. How can we put him in the herd? (Laughs) They're putting your head on your head, aren't they?

Golsha's voice: They say that Shahbaz has gone and become a pleur-mandani. ]

A girl's voice: We say married. Gulsha says no. [Girls laugh.]

Moshad Haider: [Laughs] They are telling the truth. For three days, father and son went to bring four ewes, but they have not been found yet. I also say that they have found a mother and a daughter and... [laughs]. Mother and daughter offer.

The great shepherd: That Shahbazi I know will make it.

The voice of Gulsha: May God bless them. Just collect their sheep expressions; We have nothing to do with them.

Moshad Haider: (serious and kind) We will milk your sheep while they are gone. Rest in peace, Golsha.

Big Shepherd: Yes, my daughter. When we go somewhere. It is not other than the apron. It is Shahbaz. The flower is your master, one cannot stay here.

The sound of chickens and roosters is raised Everyone notices the other side. Mashd Haider picks up a lump and throws it. A dog is howling.

Moshad Haider: High clutch! Hi. Hey! (pleased with the time) he is making a mess.

Tarvardi: [still busy playing dirt] maybe he is hungry.

Moshad Haider: No, Babajun. If a herd dog dies of hunger, it won't eat until it is fed.

Tarvardi: [Playing in the dirt] These chickens make a lot of noise just like women. [Everyone laughs.]

Moshad Haider: Hai, Chekh. Czech You came to Gulsha Gulsha. You are going to go, don't worry, tell Sam Verdi to come again. What is he doing with himself in the tent?!

Sam Verdi's voice: It's my turn?

Big Shepherd: Look at that clutch. It's like a rabid dog, it kills chickens. Betraunesh.

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