100 books like Funny in Farsi

An American Coup and the Roots of Middle East Terror by Stephen Kinzer. Honestly, if I was Ben Affleck I would have made a movie based on this book instead of Argo. Kinzer’s book exposes the United States and the UK’s role in creating the Iran of today by detailing Operation Ajax—or the coup that caused the downfall of elected Prime Minister Mohammad Mosaddegh. Spoiler alert: it had a lot to do with oil. What’s devasting is to picture what Iran would look like today without foreign intervention in the 1950s.  

My family fled Iran a couple years after the Islamic Revolution, but growing up, my parents didn’t talk about that period in their life all that much. It was sort of like my friend whose dad never talked about Vietnam. So, even though I was born in Iran post-revolution, I didn’t learn much about the history of the Shah’s downfall until I read Marjane Satrapi’s incredible graphic novels – Persepolis, Books One and Two. Satrapi manages to create a funny and heartbreaking memoir about her adolescence during the revolution and her life as a young ex-pat living in Paris. 

Follow it up with her graphic novella, Embroideries—which delves into the sex lives of Iranian women. Another topic that was generally off-limits in our household.

I was nine and still getting used to life in America after moving from Iraq five years prior, when my family moved us to Saudi Arabia. Scared and lonely, I felt more like an outsider than ever before and reading became my solace. I discovered this hilarious book and instantly fell in love with it; mainly because it depicted the author’s dysfunctional British family during their time living abroad in Corfu. In addition to the humor that naturally comes from “fish out of water” stories, it was the first time I’d read a literary account about a family as colorful as mine. It encouraged me to view my family not as a source of annoyance (as I’d been doing prior to that point) but as a source of entertainment.

I only knew of this book because my British publisher introduced me to it. For that, I’m truly thankful. The book feels honest and unflinching and makes for a great read for both myself as an immigrant as well as for those navigating a world where immigration is a constant daily reality.

I read it over a weekend in 2020 and have read it once more in 2022. I had to return to it, especially when I was faced with microaggressions or felt unheard in my new home in Canada. 

My father instilled in me a love for books and before he passed away at 92, this was his favorite one. We would read it separately during the day and discuss on our nightly Facetime calls. Being a pharmacologist, Dad loved the breakdowns of how the brain works. And I, who have long been interested in why we do the things we do, was completely drawn to the idea that we could retrain our brain. Consider this book a science-based version of “The Secret” and so much more. And had I known about manifesting when I first came to this country and experienced those first feelings of being an outsider then maybe I could have manifested away that angst. I mean, a girl can dream. 

This landmark book by the Iranian-American writer Azar Afisi is an account of the oppression of the Islamic Revolution in her native Iran and an ode to the liberating power of literature and truth.

In her book, Nafisi recounts the experiences of a group of students she worked with as a professor of English at the University of Tehran. She was dismissed from that professorship in 1981 for refusing to cover her hair and 16 years later, emigrated to America, where she teaches, writes, and is an internationally respected voice for press and personal freedoms.

This book is like a forbidden fruit, tempting and dangerous. But it came to my rescue when I’d lost sight of my own dreams for a little while. Sure, Ayn Rand’s philosophy has many simplistic flaws, but in this novel, she channels a Nietzschean spirit that jolts you awake. It was a call to never forget to embrace my ambition and to continue to forge my own writing path even when readers seem indifferent.

In a world full of compromises, there’s power in refusing to settle for less than your own extraordinary potential.

So back when I was a senior at UC Berkeley, I worked as an assistant at the Center for Middle Eastern Studies and totally fangirled over Tara Bahrampour when we hosted her as a guest speaker. She was basically who I wanted to be one day. What I love about her memoir is that it talks about growing up in America, and revisiting Iran—something I’ve never gotten to do but could imagine through Bahrampour’s eyes. I would have completely passed out if someone told me the day I met Tara that one day, I’d publish a book about being Iranian too. I’m not sure I would have attempted to write my memoir without having her as inspiration. 

I first discovered this writer through her blog, The Bloggess. I admired her frank, weird, obscene imagination then – and I still do, now that she’s become a best-selling author. 

Her childhood in rural Texas could not be more different than mine in the urban Bronx, but she still feels like a kindred spirit. I love the way she navigates through childhood, marriage, pregnancy, and work while not allowing her physical and psychological issues to limit her in any way. 

One of those issues is being phobic, and that’s something I can relate to. You name it, I’m afraid of it!

This book was a safe haven for me. I was feeling uninspired to write nonfiction and unable to focus on the memoir that I had tasked myself with writing. I wanted to write something meaningful and vulnerable yet somehow keep my power and agency to myself. 

Truthfully, this book felt like a safety net. Habib manages to write about her upbringing as a Muslim woman and her relationship to her queerness while also allowing the story to meander between power and vulnerability. It taught me a lot, and I am thankful I got to read it.