'Easy to remember, hard to forget': Fatemeh Keshavarz explores a colorful mosaic of cultures, ethnicities and languages
11/23/05
By Gerry Everding
For Fatemeh
Keshavarz, Ph.D., associate professor of Persian and of comparative literature,
both in Arts & Sciences, poetry is much more than an academic discipline. It
is a profoundly personal experience that requires both the poet and the reader
to be fully involved in its consummation.
"Poetry is the magic we
perform with language," she says. "It is teaching our minds to enter a world of
play in which the parameters are set by our imagination. When we truly read a
poem, we participate in the creation of a world that comes into existence during
our reading. The magic of poetry is not only presented to us, but partially
performed by us."
 |
Photo by David
Kilper |
Fatemeh Keshavarz, Ph.D., instructs students in her
"IntermediatePersian II" class. "She told us the Persian language was easy
to remember and hard to forget, and that's how I think of her now," says
former student Anne Craver. "She's one of the best teachers I've had in my
many years of education. She's easy to remember and hard to
forget." |
As chair of the Department of Asian and
Near Eastern Languages & Literatures in Arts & Sciences, she invites
students and scholars to explore a mosaic of words and meanings that is as
colorful and varied as the cultures, ethnicities and languages taught in the
department.
Despite nearly two decades here in St. Louis, she continues
to draw on lessons learned as a child in Shiraz, the southwest Iranian city
where she was born and raised.
"All across Iran, especially in Shiraz,
the lives of ordinary people revolve around love of poetry and literature,"
Keshavarz says. "Where I grew up, poets don't live just in books. They become
very influential figures in your life."
Shiraz has always been a
cultural center. Known for lush rose gardens and groves of citrus and cypress
trees, it was home to two of Islam's greatest poets: Hafez (1324-91) and Sa'di
(1209-91). Their influence remains strong.
"When I was little, my
mother's loving and scolding words were often quotes from popular poems by
Sa'di," she recalls. "My father was my best teacher of poetry. He worked as a
bank accountant, but was very well-read and had a great love of books. My
literary exchanges with him were a big part of my early education."
Now
a well-regarded literary critic, she specializes in classical and modern Persian
poetry and teaches courses in Persian language, comparative literature and other
interdisciplinary topics, such as family and gender issues in Islamic culture.
"Keshavarz is a multitalent," says Gerhild Scholz Williams, Ph.D., chair
of the Department of Germanic Languages & Literatures in Arts & Sciences
and the Barbara Schapps Thomas and David M. Thomas Professor in the Humanities.
"She's a gifted poet and translator of poetry, a scholar of literature, an
effective and imaginative teacher, and an energetic, well-organized and
congenial administrator."
Robert E. Hegel, Ph.D., professor of Chinese
and of comparative literature, both in Arts & Sciences, describes Keshavarz
as an extremely capable leader known for an insightful approach and
inexhaustible good humor.
"Her laughter frequently rings down the
hallway," Hegel says. "Her affection for her students and her colleagues is
obvious in all that she does."
Former students echo those sentiments.
 |
Courtesy
Photo |
Fatemeh Keshavarz and husband Ahmet Karamustafa have
three children. One is in Chicago, while Ali (left) and Ayla are in high
school. |
"Professor Keshavarz is not only an
erudite scholar and peerless instructor, she also is the very embodiment of
dedication," says Omid Ghaemmaghami, who is now pursuing a doctorate at
Uni-versity of Toronto. "She liberally shared her wisdom, constructive criticism
and guidance, always in a manner that sought to encourage."
Anne Craver,
who earned a doctorate in comparative literature with French, Persian and Arabic
languages here in 2000, has known Keshavarz since taking her Persian course in
1988.
"She told us the Persian language was easy to remember and hard to
forget, and that's how I think of her now," Craver says. "She's one of the best
teachers I've had in my many years of education. She's easy to remember and hard
to forget."
Keshavarz's interests, like her poetry, are constantly
evolving.
"I began as a specialist in Persian literature, but worked
hard to retool myself as a comparativist," she says. "Comparative literature
offers a great focal point for examining particular issues addressed by
different cultures, different times."
Fatemeh Keshavarz
University titles: Associate professor of Persian and of
comparative literature, and chair of the Department of Asian and Near
Eastern Languages & Literatures, all in Arts & Sciences
Degrees: B.S., Persian language and literature (1976), and
M.L.S., library and information science (1979), Shiraz University, Iran;
Ph.D., Near Eastern and Persian studies, London University, 1985
Family: Husband Ahmet T. Karamustafa, Ph.D., associate professor
of history and of religious studies, both in Arts & Sciences; daughter
Atefeh, an architect in Chicago; daughter Ayla; and son Ali, high-school
students in St. Louis
Hobbies: Runs 3-4 miles daily; loves baking, spending time with
friends |
In her course "Lyrics of Mystical
Love, East and West," Keshavarz explores the unique perspective that mystic
poets from various traditions bring to the same abstract concepts as they share
the struggle to express the inexpressible.
"In some works, the concept
of silence has a connotation of emptiness or loneliness. In others, it conveys
serenity or anticipation. The 12th-century Persian poet Rumi has a lot to offer
on silence, but the discussion gets much richer when we bring in the views of a
20th-century writer, such as Thomas Beckett, with a totally different
perspective on silence."
While much of her work involves in-depth
analysis of poetry, she hopes students come away from her classes with more than
a cold and empirical grasp of poetry's nuances. She strives to instill the
lesson she learned as a child in Shiraz, the realization that poetry can be an
essential tool for self-understanding, for shaping the very direction and
quality of a lifetime.
"Washington University has such amazingly bright
and excellent students. I would be disappointed if I didn't have a chance to
share my work with them," she says. "Even if they don't pursue careers in the
field, I want them to see literature as an ongoing and important part of their
lives."
Keshavarz's own literary interest took her to Shiraz University,
where she earned a bachelor's in Persian language and literature in 1976, and
her first collection of poems was published.
She earned a doctorate in
Near Eastern and Persian Studies from London University in 1985. While there,
she met her husband, Ahmet T. Karamustafa, Ph.D., a well-regarded historian of
Islam. They married and moved here in 1987 after he was offered a job at WUSTL.
Karamustafa is now an associate professor of history and of religious
studies, both in Arts & Sciences. Both have taken turns as director of the
University's Center for the Study of Islamic Societies and Civilizations.
Keshavarz's first daughter, Atefeh, attended the University and is now
an architect in Chicago. They are raising two more children, a daughter, Ayla,
17, and a son, Ali, 15. Both are trilingual, speaking English, Turkish and
Persian. The family is active in Muslim communities on and off campus.
"As a family, we use the experience of Muslim holy days, such as fasting
together at Ramadan, as a way to think about what's important in life," she
says. "My identity as a Muslim, and my spirituality in a general sense, are very
important to me."
Music is an integral part of the spiritual experience,
a way to keep connected with the inner rhythm. Keshavarz collaborates with the
Liän Ensemble, a Los Angeles-based world music group that often invites her to
recite lyric poetry, such as Rumi's ghazals, as they perform Persian music.
Designed to showcase the artistic interplay of poetry and music, the
performances have filled 1,200-seat auditoriums.
Rumi, a towering figure
in the Persian-speaking world, was little-known in America until a couple
decades ago when his lyric verses became available in translation. He is now a
bestselling poet in English translations.
Keshavarz is one of few
scholars to focus on the aesthetic and poetic dimensions of Rumi's love lyrics.
Her book,
Reading Mystical Lyric: The Case of Jalal al-Din Rumi, now
available in paperback, is a popular text for courses in Persian literature,
Islamic mysticism and mystical poetry.
Her latest book,
Recite in
the Name of the Red Rose, scheduled to be published in the spring, is a
study of the equally diverse and colorful world of contemporary Persian
literature.
Americans who think of modern Iran as a world of upheaval,
revolution and hostage-taking would be surprised, she suggests, to know that the
nation is home to many fine 20th-century poets who have devoted themselves to
writing for the sake of art, individualism and the reenvisioning of self.
Jack Renard, a Saint Louis University professor who has followed
Keshavarz's work, credits her with two great gifts: "an unfailing sense of
fairness and justice, coupled with a keen sensitivity to the countless ways in
which cultural diversity enriches our world."
These gifts, says Renard,
suffuse every page of another book that Keshavarz is now working on, a
collection of personal essays.
Since 9-11, Keshavarz often is called
upon to lead community talks on issues related to Islam, especially the changing
role of Muslim women.
"Muslim women are winning economic, political and
family rights under varied political systems that use Islamic law," Keshavarz
observes. "There are many women's movements that combine a feminist perspective
with core tenets of the Muslim faith.
"I would like to see more changes
in Iran. But I am hopeful," she adds. "Iranian women have been a vital force in
social change."
Shiraz

Held up to gods in the palm of a
giant's hands A rare handcrafted marble cup brimming with sunshine
Defined at the outer edges with tall Cyprus trees That
line up at dawn reverently To interpret the horizons in their
meticulous green thoughts My city is that cup of sunshine I can
drink to the last drop And be thirsty for more. -
Fatemeh Keshavarz (2000)