Kamin Mohammadi

Honeymoon in Purdah by Alison Wearing

this book review appeared in Geographical magazine, 2000

‘The air is cool and dry. I smell the earth dried into dust and breathe this scent, this air; fill my lungs with it. I have been in Iran for ten days. My blood is made from the water of this place. I can feel it. How it slides through my body and shapes me.’

If this sort of writing appeals to you, then this book is for you. If, however, this is your idea of unbridled pretention, then steer away from Alison Wearing’s book about her honeymoon in Iran.

Iran is a much maligned and misunderstood country, not surprising since it turned its back on the West 21 years ago with the Islamic Revoltuion and chants of ‘Death to America’. In the last few years, however, Iran has opened up to visitors more than ever before and it is easier now for adventurous travellers to venture an independent trip (tour groups have been taking wealthier visitors for years). However, despite the greater freedom, Iran is still as an Islamic Republic, with all that implies in terms of observances of Islamic codes of behaviour such as the separation of men and women in public unless married or related, and suitable hejab for women (Islamic dress code which stipulates that no part of a woman’s body should be distinguishable other than her face). This supports the writer in her assertion at the start of the book that she has chosen Iran for her honeymoon because it is the only place she cannot imagine travelling on her own. However, about halfway through the book, she confesses that her ‘husband’ is, in fact, her gay flatmate from Montreal and their ‘marriage’ merely a faked certificate from a relation. Many Westerners, usually couples, fake marriage in order to travel around Iran able to share a bedroom. However, it is curious that Wearing chooses to dupe her readers till so far into the book, especially when her style demands such sympathy – and even empathy – from her readers.

This aside, Wearing, does not just drown the reader in her gushing prose. She does manage to put across a good sense of the disembodiment women first feel when donning the hejab (in most cases a long loose coat and a headscarf) and the difficulties encountered by going through everyday life in a hot country wearing such inhibitingly impractical dress. She is drawn most by the kindness of the locals, repeatedly impressed by how even initially alarming situations invariably end up with an Iranian sharing out their lunch, the curiousity and hunger for news of life in the West and the recounting of the lifestyles and opinions that they encounter on their travels through Iran. She recounts their struggles with Iranian customs and complicated systems of courtesy, even subconsciously absorbing some of the modesty so inherent in Muslim women.

Unfortunately, Wearing’s fascination with Iran’s populace is expressed at the expense of any substantial description of the country itself or its architecture or the look of the land. For a country so rich in interesting historical buildings, Wearing’s visits to these places are only mentioned incidentally. This is a very personal account of a journey that does not serve to illuminate the interested reader in any comprehensive way. Your reaction will depend entirely on how well you get along with Wearing because it is impossible to avoid her personality in every line. And if you already know a little about Iran, Wearing is unlikely to teach you anything new. This book’s main point of interest is the geography of its subject matter: there have been so few travel books about the Islamic Republic of Iran that such subjective work can stand virtually alone. And more’s the pity.