One of the highlights of my attending the Austin Teen Book Festival back in 2013 was meeting Sara Farizan, the author of If You Could Be Mine -an eye-opening book about homosexuality and trans-identity.
Prior to attending the event, I had the opportunity to read about Farizan and her book in an article on the NPR website. In the short biography provided in the article, I learned that Farizan is, herself, a homosexual and has battled not only psychological and social criticisms over the years, but also cultural. (Being the daughter of Iranian immigrants, it is understandable why an adolescent Farizan might have feared abandonment by her parents and relations on the basis of her sexuality.) Extracted from her interview with NPR, the following is what Farizan had to say in relation to her sexual identity:
Sara Farizan |
"The problem for me was that I realized from a very young age that I was gay, or at least had same-sex attractions that weren't going away. And I really struggled with that, and I was very closeted for about six or seven years, where I was just outside very bubbly and happy, and inside was very angry and sad and didn't feel like I could talk to anyone, based on where my parents were from. ... It's a very taboo subject in the Persian community..."
Although it is not mentioned in the NPR article, the dedication at the front of the book does suggest that Farizan did eventually find the acceptance and support she sought from her parents to explore her sexual identity. Today she does so while also reaching out to other homosexuals (not exclusively lesbians) through young adult fiction.
If You Could Be Mine is her first published work.
Book Summary
Sahar and Nazrin have been inseparable since childhood. Now teenagers, in modern-day Tehran, their friendship has escalated to love -of the forbidden variety. But when Nazrin's arranged marriage threatens to separate them, Sahar seeks and discovers what seems to be the ideal solution: gender reassignment. When questions about her own identity comes into play, however, Sahar begins to question her own motives to undergo the surgery.
Reader's Response
As someone who identifies herself as being a heterosexual female, I do not claim to understand first-hand what it must feel like to be persecuted -both inwardly and outwardly -for my sexuality. Having read Farizan's book, however, the ability to see both forms of crisis through the eyes of the main character (Sahar) has helped to strengthen my empathy.
As previously mentioned, this book creatively touches on both homosexuality and trans-identity. In an attempt to preserve her relationship with her lover, Sahar entertains the idea of subjecting herself to sexual reassignment. This pursuit, in a number of ways, exposes deeper layers of dilemmas involving identity and gender.
In Farizan's words:
"I think the longer people read it [the book], they'll see that there's a great distinction between gender identity and sexual orientation. I think Sahar realizes that, too ... through meeting other transsexual characters — some who are very confident and very happy and are actually trans, and then some who have kind of undergone the gender reassignment because they feel like it's their only option. So it brings up a lot of questions, the book, but I don't think it gives a lot of definite answers."
Much to this reader's horror, along with the protagonist's, a section of dialogue included a rather graphic description of what a transgender individual (once he or she is approved for gender reassignment) must go through, surgically, to achieve physical transformation. . .
To think that, at any minute, someone out in the world is preparing to or is undergoing such a procedure. . .
The mental images left by the description are too much.
A surprising element, for me, came in the form of a possibility that I had never considered before: the shunning of homosexuality by transgender individuals! At first, the hostility expressed by one transgender, the character of Katayoun, toward the protagonist made little sense -to both Sahar and me. What Katayoun had to voice on the subject: "'I am not like them [homosexuals]!... What they do is unnatural... My illness in treatable. Their malady is a bargain with the devil.'" (150-151)
For someone who, herself, once experienced feelings of persecution and displacement, would it not make sense for Katayoun to empathize -better than I, at least -Sahar's plight?
But there, again, enters the dilemma of sexual orientation and gender identity: Can a person born as a man, but who identifies himself as a woman, understand a woman who freely expresses physical attraction toward her own gender?
In the case of the character Katayoun from Farizan's novel, the answer would be 'no.'
Possibly, though, such a negative reaction could be a result of cultural upbringing. In Iran, after all, it is forgivable to be a transgender. To be a homosexual, on the other hand, is a crime punishable by death.
Closing Thoughts
For my first exposure to gay/lesbian literature, Sara Farizan's If You Could Be Mine was an enlightening experience. For anyone who is curious or interested, I highly recommend it.
To read the full NPR feature on Sara Farizan, please click here.
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