A Snapshot One Hundred Years On

A Snapshot One Hundred Years On

Face to Face with Hasan Moghaddam

Jalal Tehrani

I’m trying. But I still can’t see you. It’ll work out. For now, sit on that stool … are you sitting? … Good. Make yourself comfortable. Let me turn off one of the lamps … Yeah, I see you. See you. But you’re still blurry. Turn a little to the right. Better. And it’s better if you don’t move too much. So, how are you? If I wanted you to come here, it’s because right now I believe in an unmediated photograph. Even if it isn’t particularly reliable as evidence, which I’m trying to make it be. At least this way, I know more clearly where I stand with it. I mean, if I’m supposed to exist because I think, then it’s better for you to exist too because I think you do. Not just because you existed, and what you were like, and all that. Unless I want to go back to the past, which I don’t. I don’t want to get stuck in the past; neither of us. Now please don’t move. Good. Look at my hand. Here. Lift your head. Higher. There. Please don’t blink. Good. You can relax now. But don’t move too much either, for now. Until my eyes get used to you, it’s better if you don’t move out of the frame. Ready? Zero time. We begin. Name?

• Hasan.

• Surname?

• Moghaddam.

• Hasan Moghaddam … Father’s name?

• Let me see. I mean, what do you mean, both of us getting stuck in the past?

• Just like that. Father’s name?

• Doesn’t work. We didn’t have it that way.

• Well, so that the work will be beautiful.

• What does that have to do with it?

• No, come on, you’re not supposed to ask the questions.

• There isn’t supposed to be another arrangement either.

• Look. I only said that an artistic photograph is a photograph that, at the very least, hasn’t fallen into the pit of the past. Now, father’s name?

• Mohammad-Taqi Khan Ehtesab-al-Molk.

• Birth?

• Is the past a pit?

• Did I say that !?

• That’s what I heard.

• I said a good photograph means this. That’s all.

• Fine. But you didn’t say anything about this part.

• Oh, come on! You know better yourself. If understanding the beauty of a work means taming the passage of time, its meaning is grasping the future in the present, not fixing the present in the past.

• Or, in the present, analyzing the past.

• That’s that, then. Birth?

• Tehran. Now what does this have to do with aesthetics?

• Why do you think a curved line is more beautiful than broken lines?

• More beautiful? I haven’t thought about it.

• Now I’m asking you. Is it?

• Depends on where it comes.

• Wherever it comes. It may not be more necessary. But it is more beautiful.

• Why is it?

• Because when a curved line changes its course at every moment, the new course has been determined by the previous course.

• Meaning its course is predictable.

• Exactly.

• What does that have to do with aesthetics?

• There must be some connection.

• The fact that at every point along the curved path, you can predict the next path by referring to the path at that very moment, that became beauty.

• It did! The pleasure you get from beauty is the same pleasure of conquering the future in the present. Birth?

• Tehran. So, understanding the beauty of the movement of a curve comes back to the pleasure of taming the passage of time and grasping the future in the present.

• It’s over and done with.

• But every rhythm provides this possibility without necessarily being artistic.

• The difference is that art induces you to forget that even this current path was itself the place of your previous presumption on that same curve.

• So you’re always indebted to that curve.

• That curve gives you the pleasure of predicting the future.

• Its own future.

• The future is something shared.

• But you empathize with an affect that it has expressed!

• That’s the only right an artist has. Birth?

• Tehran. Anyway, that’s your opinion.

• It’s your act too. Birth?

• Are you deaf?

• Hm? … No. Tell me the date.

• 
  
  1.  

• Lunar?

• Solar.

• Seven by seven, seventy by seventy … So you’ve filled the hundred.

• Not completely.

• How much is left?

• What are you going to do?

• I want to come for the cake.

• A month or two is left.

• I can’t make sense of a one-two or a two-three. If it’s two months from now, say two months. If it’s two and a half months from now, say I’ll come around two and a half months.

• Fine. Whenever you get hungry, come.

• Fine. Let’s leave it for now. Death?

• 
  
  1.  

• That’s very early.

• You didn’t know?

• I did. Cause of death?

• Illness.

• Westoxication?

• Nope. Tuberculosis.

• Ahhh, yes … Place of death?

• Switzerland.

• Where?
•  
• Place of burial?
• Cemetery!
• You’re right. That was a stupid question. Iran?
•  
• No, it wasn’t that stupid. Well … it remains, marital status?
•  
• Nothing?!
•  
• You mean there wasn’t even any news?
• What do you mean?!
• Think a little. We’ll start with “Zh.”
• Gilbert was my fiancé.
• Were you classmates at first?
• And then, when she found out I’d become ill, she came to me.
• Did you love her?
• Why did you start from the end?!
• So who was Lucienne first, in Egypt?
• We were friends. With her and her mother.
• Wasn’t there anyone else?
• Whatever you don’t know is as if it never existed.
• Of course, it’s none of my business.
• How I wished this maxim were true: that it is enough for a woman to be beautiful for her to have, at the very least, a little intelligence as well.
• Well, that’s your opinion too … This part, my child, will remain empty …
• To hell with it!
• I wasn’t talking to you …
• 1277 Solar, let me see, this, does it mean she was a genius?
• A genius?!
• They say someone was a genius, for example.
• They say that.
• They don’t just say it for no reason.
• Are you sure?
•  
• Then forget it.
• Were you a genius?
• Oh, come on, does it matter?
• Then let’s move on from birth?
• A man should love his father because his father gave him life. What does that mean?
• I don’t know.
• Does that mean wheat should also love the farmer who planted it?!
• Wheat is different from a person.
• How is it different?
• They plant wheat at the beginning, a person at the end. Tell me about your father.
• There are men who resemble a door that is always open.
• How much did you study?
• Four years in Iran, eleven years in Switzerland.
• Why did Jafar Khan Come from Europe?
• This was his homeland!
• No, I mean, why did you write it?
• I saw much ruin around me.
• Why theatre after all?
• It is easier to communicate with people through the language of theatre.
• How do you know?
• The Iranian masses like theatre. The success of my storytellers was because there were always people sitting around listening to their stories. And we must do something to change the common people’s desire and interest in hearing stories into watching actors perform.
• How do you think plays should be?
• We should put on works that are both close to people’s lives, and that allow the audience, without sitting down to listen to preaching, to recognize the ugliness of their own wrongful actions.
• Is it true that Jafar Khan brought ordinary people into the theatre?
• That was my aim. Until then, ordinary people did not see plays.
• What do you think about atraksyon?
• It can be thought about in the centuries to come.
• What color do you like most?
• What do you think?
• I haven’t thought about it. What food do you like most?
• Ghormeh sabzi.
• Who is your best friend?
•  
• The one who has germs!
• He did. Because it had only just been discovered.
• Why didn’t you listen to the people around you?
• It was superstition.
• But it caught up with you.
• That wasn’t superstition.
• How long were you in his tomb?
• Three hours.
• You were careless. Did you take a photograph?
• I did.
• You caught tuberculosis too.
• …
• You shouldn’t have gone.
• What difference would it have made?
• You had so many unfinished things.
• There is always work.
• But twenty-seven years is very little.
• Who knows.
• You wrote in French before Hedayat.
• There is always someone before the others.
• Freud, Gide, Tagore, they knew you.
• There, it’s enough to be a writer for many people to know you.
• You knew theatre.
•  
• How many languages did you know?
• What are you trying to say?!
• Why didn’t you listen to the people around you?
• It was superstition.
• But it caught up with you.
• That wasn’t superstition!
• You were young.
• When I was coming out of the tomb, I felt proud. Many friends reproached me. But I mocked them, telling them, “See? Nothing happened.” But it wasn’t that simple. Apparently, fate had something else in store for me.
• Why Egypt at all?
• I became the third secretary of the Iranian Embassy in Cairo.
• You had an influential father.
• He was a courtier, during the Qajar period.
• You were wealthy too.
• Wealth is not a measure of merit.
• That’s the name of one of your articles.
• Yes, it was published in the French press.
• You started writing articles very early.
• From the time I was a student.
• Why did you write mostly in French?
• Citoyan du monde.
• Citizen of the world?
• A writer or an artist does not belong to any particular country or continent.
• Were you the first to put forward this idea of Citizen of the World?
• It was the sixtieth birthday of Romain Rolland.
• I like Citoyan du monde.
• The title of the Romain Rolland Congress became Citizen of the World. Ha!
• You became famous with this very article.
• I was supposed to be the first Iranian writer to achieve worldwide fame.
• They celebrate your birth and anniversary. That’s very good.
• That’s your opinion.
• Do you want us to celebrate your centenary too?
• Celebrate it.
• You’re laughing. Is it ridiculous?
• If I laugh at the man I once was, it’s because I want to prove to myself that today I am superior to him.
• But what is more important than proving it is the truth of you, which is unchanged
• I understand, but what matters to people isn’t the truth, it’s something resembling the truth. And even that is debatable!
• Many people will doubt you because of this statement.
• Many people did not become skeptical because they understood that the depth of things is unattainable, but because of the modesty of character and the vulgarity of the soul.
• Then why, when I say “celebrate,” do you say “celebrate it”?
• The people of Iran are too sad.
• Don’t you have a message for them?
• Of course, I’m too small to …! What is that smell?! It’s bothering me.
•  
• What?!
• For developing the photograph. It works perfectly.
• But this leaves nothing of the person in the photograph!
• Well, of course, they haven’t found anything better yet. Cyanide is still the best developing agent.
• Its smell is bothering me. I’m ill.
• It’s better if you don’t move too much. You don’t have much time either. Start.
• Start what?
• Oh! You’re at a congress, for example. For your centenary.
• That’s ridiculous!
• The impossible supposition isn’t impossible. Give the welcoming address first.
• To whom?!
• To the audience.
• But everyone here is absent!
• That’s a habit. But I’ll record you. Come on.
• What use are my words to you? I died seventy years ago.
• Don’t worry. It’s as if seventy years haven’t passed. Whatever you say, we’ll understand. Even if seven hundred years had passed …
• Do you want to be preached to?
• That’s not something I want.
• Then who wants it? You’ve been preached to for seven thousand years. And what for?
• Add another year to it.
• Then go to Saadi.
• I’m not attached to education.
• Well, bring Ferdowsi.
• Epic?!
• Education
• Physical education. That’s better.
• More appropriate, perhaps, but better! … And Hafez, who’s much too amorous now … My chest is tight. Stop.
• It’s the cyanide. There’s no choice. They haven’t found anything better yet.
• What are you going to do?!
• Start with one sentence of your own.
• What’s the difference?
• Anyone who doesn’t know would think they’ve become a pit for us.
• Do you know anyone greater than them to take pride in?
• I don’t. They are a source of pride, I accept that. But why don’t we bring them out of the past? Bring them forward?
• We are the ones standing still. Is this what you want to hear from me?
• I want to know why no one has continued you. Did you remain there? And whenever someone comes along, they finish themselves off so quickly. Then we keep coming back. We keep taking pride.
• Everyone can only be themselves. Every star, after all, twinkles in its own way. But you see countless stars in the sky every night. Lift your head.
• Yes, we’ve all become astronomers. Everyone looking up at the sky.
• I have to go now. Blood is coming from my chest.
• It’s the cyanide. I’m sorry, they still haven’t found anything better. And what if I tell you you’re not getting out of here?
• What do you mean?!
• I mean I’ll record you right here. You have to endure it.
• Then that pit you mentioned and that …
• It’s different. What if your image is something other than yourself? You said it yourself.
• Meaning?
• Well, I’m the one developing your image. What does that mean?
• You’ve got me?! Damn you!
• It can be tried. Move.
• …
•  
• I can’t! … What did you do?!
• I took a photograph. That’s all.
• I became a photograph!!
•  
• This wasn’t our arrangement.
• There was no arrangement.
• Then all that talk!
• Forget it. You can. You have to get used to it.
• I can’t!! This succession makes me sick!
• Then finish it.
• Me?! What can I possibly do?!
• You haven’t withdrawn yet. Is that good, or bad? Make it clear to me.
• I withdrew! Let me go!
• Can you prove it?
• Why is there any need?!
• This image is incomplete.
• Because nothing has changed. Is it proved?!!
• Nope, not enough.
• To hell with it!! I want to go. Please. That damn thing has scraped out my chest.
• I want to develop you.
• That cyanide!!!
• They still haven’t found anything better.
• Don’t come closer!!
• Then you come here. This is the commemoration. Begin.
• Stop! I’ve said what I had to say.
• My hearing is poor. Shout. Esteemed gentlemen …
• Esteemed gentlemen, honorable ladies.
• Louder, esteemed gentlemen!!
• Honorable ladies!!
• There … that’s it.
• Your Excellencies, please be so kind as to forgive your humble servant for a few minutes of troubling your gracious ears!! …
• Forgive!!
• Of course, this humblest servant knows full well that if Your Excellencies have been gracious enough to honor us with their presence in this place, it is not for the sake of hearing nonsense and superfluous words. Therefore, I apologize once again and promise to be brief. Of course, only to the extent that the word of Orientals may be considered credible, and that brevity may be possible for an Iranian-born man who has been given the opportunity to make a speech … I can’t anymore!
• May it be possible!!
• First, this humble ant has taken the liberty … first kisses the feet of the esteemed gentlemen and dear ladies.
• Is your chest broken or what?! …
• Who, out of their gracious kindness, have devoted the اعتبار of the name of the strength of their arms and the light of their minds …
• It’s coming right out of your eyes! You’re not crying, are you?!
• … merely to preparing this small celebration. Your condition isn’t any better than mine.
• Yes, they still haven’t found anything better. Let’s continue.
• Damn every developing agent there is. Then this humble fly and this least of all servants begs Your Excellencies to permit him to speak with them for sixty seconds about the entertainments that, God willing, will …
• Will bring glad tidings to all!!
• The few means and meager materials available to the organizers of this gathering did not allow them, this time, to present those artistic treasures that they desired to of… of…
• To the devoted eyes … to the eyes, hurry, we don’t have much time. If you don’t say what you have to say at this ceremony, we’ll have to wait another hundred years.
• … to your devoted eyes and astonished ears … But God is great, and the honey of life is hope, so compelling that I place my heart’s hope in the promises of tomorrow … this …
• This frail louse supposes that among … leav…
• Among Your Excellencies, there are few who truly love Iranian literature. The avidity of … avid…
• And therefore supposes that if you have honored us with your noble, hungry presence …
• … their generous presence, it is because of a love of literature …
• But this ungrateful beggar … stupidity will not take it so far as to an…
• … to announce that he is aware of this matter and, moreover …
• Will assume that …
• … that the rare presence of you great men is a clear sign … o…
• Of your interest …
• In the solitude … objectives …
• … and the worth of the purpose …
• And the station … is a matter …
• ..

All scattered references in this text to the biography and some statements of Hasan Moghaddam are taken from Hasan Moghaddam and Jafar Khan Has Come from Europe, by Esmail Jamshidi, Zarrin Publications, Spring 1373.