Shahrnush Parsipur was - is - persecuted in Iran, where she’s from, for this book (among other things). Partly because she dares talk about, you know, sex, virginity, female sexuality. Topics that are not to be mentioned ever.
‘Women Without Men’ does reference the title of the Hemingway work ‘Men Without Women’. I haven’t read the latter, but in the afterword to this book, it says it’s a book where ultimately a life without women isn't particularly satisfying. The same (but in reverse) is the case of ‘Women Without Men’, in a way.
It consists of five stories of five vastly different women, who nonetheless have a lot in common. They’re all confined by their family and society to a very narrow way of life. They all have very little freedom of movement or thought, and each strive, in their own way, to break their captivity and be free to pursue a different way of life.
The separate storylines converge in the end and the women meet at a single house they help build and maintain together. In the house there’s also a gardener (incidentally a man, but of the somewhat invisible kind), who tends the garden where one of the women has planted herself in an attempt to become a tree.
It’s a mixture of harsh reality and magical-realism. The magical elements present themselves without much ado and add depth and great character to the novel. The odd, fantastical elements are very poignant and quite stunning.
The house they all live in and the life they share together may seem utopic, but it’s not the case at all. Having escaped the confines of their former position, whatever it was, and the men and norms that kept them trapped, they work steadily towards a new way of life. However, it’s not a life in female isolation; the solution is not an all-woman utopia.
What these women need, what Parsipur tries to convey, is that they need this utopian space to learn to be free. It’s not the final stop. It’s where they unlearn all the restrictions that’s been put on them, and reflect on what they desire to get out of life.
For some it means transcending the human body, to transform into nature and start anew, to some it means returning to life almost as it was before, but all of them with a new spiritual freedom. It’s not, in the end, a feasible project to live without men, nor is it possible. Women without men is rather women without the narrow idea of what a woman can and should be, an empty place she can shape as her own, where she can find herself.
It’s an odd novel, because it moves in so many ways, and the ending may seem somewhat disappointing or anticlimactic, but there’s a strength to it, an insistence that women are allowed to become their own people, to talk about sex and virginity and politics. Each character present a different story, each needing the same and separate things, each getting their own ending, and the result is a complex, strange and wondrous novel.
It’s very different from the video installating – the art piece based on the book – that I’ve seen. In the videos the women never meet, each story remains separate, and there are alterations to each of them, but both novel and film are very powerful means of telling such a story. I recommend the book, but I also recommend the art installation, should you ever come across it. It’s a lot harsher, but very rewarding.
Original review:
Holy shit.
I've seen the film(s) based on this book. It was an art installation at Aros, the museum in my city (Aarhus Museum of Art). I had no idea it was a book first.
I thought the title sounded familiar and this is why. It was an incredibly moving experience to see it. The different stories were split onto three huge screens in a dark, black room, so you got to watch them in random order. They were harsh, but beautiful. I hope it's still there.