I have a life-long love affair with books. I read novels, non-fiction, periodicals, or any reading material that catches my eye. I try to set aside two hours of reading every day. I used to spend eight hours back in my university days. I predominantly read in English, a vow I made to myself about 23 years ago when I was fresh off the boat.
I subscribed to Time Magazine as soon as I settled in the U.S. with an address I knew I wasn’t going to change. I was young, newly married, moving from one rental house to the next until we bought our first house with my in-laws.
As I was trying to read the title of the book: THE ART OF WAR!! I read the title a few times. By then, my palpitation was rising.
By then, I’d been in the U.S. for about four years. My English was OK. I was taking more literature classes at the University of Washington, under my post-bachelor degree in journalism school. I was working as a medical interpreter for the Harborview hospitals and UW clinics. I knew I could handle reading periodicals by then.
After I was able to get a hold of Time Magazine‘s pre-paid subscription envelope with the slip, I filled out the paper with my information, included a $10 check, and posted the following day. We are talking about the year 2003 when I was still reviewing my memories of Iran every day. Some of those memories include my experience of the Iran-Iraq war, the few attempts to kidnap me in Tehran, living everything behind and accepting life in exile. I was then and maybe even now, mad at my fate and lost opportunities due to war and conflict.
When I sent the subscription envelope, I was not expecting anything drastic.
The “F” word
Somehow I remembered in the Popeye cartoon that when he got too angry, a stream of thick smoke would come out of his head. I felt smoke coming out of my skull. Then I remembered to breathe, and let the smoke out. I felt a damning rush of my migraine coming back to me. I let a muted scream out of my body, then slowly I put the book back into the box, and started thinking:
What the F**k? I used the F word with full force and a lot of enthusiasm. You may not believe it, but it was for the first time I was using the word so loud. We are talking about the era when the F word wasn’t as popular as it is now!! People were not using the “F” word as if they were grabbing a cup of coffee at Starbucks. Even Starbucks wasn’t as popular. I was buying Seattle Best Coffee back then.
Then I thought …
What do these MFs (using a Persian equivalent), know about war and conflict? Why are these MFs calling “War” an “art”? Have they ever been in a war themselves? Have they seen bodies of dead children laying on the streets, or a pregnant woman lying dead with her embryo spread on the ground after a goddamn bombing? Do they know the effect of war on civilians? By then, I was swearing all the Farsi swears that I knew. I wasn’t so eloquent in English swears then. I only knew the “F” word so far!
Somehow I remembered in the Popeye cartoon that when the captain got too angry, a stream of thick smoke came out of his head. I felt smoke coming out of my skull.
Without ever bothering to open the book and read a few lines, I put the book back into the box. I included a handwritten note, in which I knew I had too many grammar mistakes, demanding to cancel my subscription. And I tapped the box. I mailed it back the next day.
The Art of War: 20 years later
I was at Costco about three months ago. I usually check the book section to see which titles Costco has hit that month. I saw The Art of War: And Other Classics of Eastern Philosophy in an attractive black, red-wine, and gold writing leather back with a red ribbon tucked inside the book. The outer pages were painted in gold. The word, “Eastern Philosophy” captured my attention. I grabbed The Art of War and started reading it unpassionately. I was standing right in front of the book stack. I read:
“There are four central virtues [in Confucius’s philosophy,] which guide behavior, perception, and feelings: Benevolence, righteousness, wisdom, and reflection. One who has a true understanding of propriety will both address others respectfully and themselves disdain to be addressed disrespectfully.” Then, a few lines down: “Most of all, people must be given the proper environment to cultivate their inherent goodness.”
“Wow, is this The Art of War?” I thought.
I bought three copies, one for me, two for gifts.
More related readings:
Zainab Salbi: Raising Loud Peaceful Voices Against Injustice
I Read Banned Books in Iran and Got an “F”
Iranian journalists Niloofar Hamedi and Elahe Mohammadi Win Journalism Awards at Harvard University
I Was Mad at U.S. Media Networks of Covering Muslim Women
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