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Iranian-American writer Kaveh Akbar reflects on art amid war

ANDREW LIMBONG, HOST:

We heard earlier from everyday people in Iran reacting to the U.S. bombing of Iran. Kaveh Akbar is an Iranian American poet and writer who lives and teaches in Iowa. His debut novel "Martyr!" was published last year to critical acclaim. Akbar has been active in protesting for the rights of Palestinians, and now today, he's processing a bombing campaign in Iran, the country he was born in. I caught up with him early today. He began by telling me how his family in Iran is doing.

KAVEH AKBAR: They're not great. I mean, everyone that you know, every Iranian that you know, has people in Tehran, people around Iran, who are doing poorly. And it's not just the people immediately under the bombs, either. For instance, I have an aunt with Stage 4 cancer who needs daily chemo that she has no access to right now. She takes care of a daughter who has never lived without her, never lived separately from her. And so when we hear things like X number of people killed in this strike, Y number of people killed in that strike, those are atrocities. Those are unprecedented, irreplaceable lives but so, too, are the lives like my aunts who are living in absolute terror and dread and my cousin who is watching her mother get sicker and sicker with nothing to be done about it.

LIMBONG: You're a poet. You're also the poetry editor at The Nation. Is there a poem or any bit of literature you've been coming back to or thinking about, whether it be today or the past few weeks?

AKBAR: Yeah. I've been turning to the Palestinian American poet Fady Joudah a lot. I like very much his poetry writ large, but he has this poem called "Mimesis" that feels to me like it's just this perfect little diorama, this perfect little scale model of the crisis writ large. I'd love to share it with you.

LIMBONG: Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you so much.

AKBAR: (Reading) My daughter wouldn't hurt a spider that had nested between her bicycle handles for two weeks. She waited until it left of its own accord. If you tear down the web, I said, it will simply know this isn't a place to call home, and you get to go biking. She said, that's how others become refugees, isn't it?

LIMBONG: What about that poem speaks to you?

AKBAR: I love that it works its way into your consciousness through a scene that is entirely domestic. It's a conversation between a father and a daughter. I think a lot of us are being shot rhetoric from a fire hose from both sides, from all sides, and it can sometimes feel a little concussive to be on the receiving end of that, even when we agree with the rhetoric. And I think that what is so miraculous about Fady's poem is how it just enacts that so beautifully 'cause I think that demonstrating that kind of learning, that kind of humility, is really valuable.

LIMBONG: Has this most recent news shifted to the way you're going to be writing in the future, or are you thinking about writing about something about this in the future?

AKBAR: I feel like right now my nose is still too pressed up to the mural to see the bigger picture. My immediate concerns are with my family and friends whose lives are in mortal terror. My immediate notions are towards getting actual facts out to as many people as possible before they're plastered over by the rhetoric of empire - to remind people that again, I mean, these are these are human beings. These are - you know, the way that we love our children is the way that they love their children. You know, there are emergency vets going around town right now, all over the place, to take care of the animals of the bombed. I mean, the way that we love our pets, the way that I love my dogs here in Iowa City is the way that my family members love their dogs and love their cats.

I mean, the - it is excruciating to be a person who has to continuously remind people that our interiority is as complex and miraculous as yours, right? It is excruciating to continuously be in that position. But, you know, between my delirious rage and the mortal terror of my family members is a wide delta, and I have to leverage that delta into action.

LIMBONG: That was author Kaveh Akbar. Thank you so much.

AKBAR: Thank you so much, Andrew, for having me. I appreciate it.

(SOUNDBITE OF ALAIN PLANES' "REVERIE, L 68") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.

Michelle Aslam
Michelle Aslam is a 2021-2022 Kroc Fellow and recent graduate from North Texas. While in college, she won state-wide student journalism awards for her investigation into campus sexual assault proceedings and her reporting on racial justice demonstrations. Aslam previously interned for the North Texas NPR Member station KERA, and also had the opportunity to write for the Dallas Morning News and the Texas Observer.
Andrew Limbong is a reporter for NPR's Arts Desk, where he does pieces on anything remotely related to arts or culture, from streamers looking for mental health on Twitch to Britney Spears' fight over her conservatorship. He's also covered the near collapse of the live music industry during the coronavirus pandemic. He's the host of NPR's Book of the Day podcast and a frequent host on Life Kit.
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