Blog > A thought for Iran

Iran is a country people always talk about, yet never seem to know well enough; that is the impression I’ve gathered over the years. I also remember that the choice to travel to Iran—at the very dawn of my curiosity about the world—arose almost unconsciously. I didn't even notice it happening, and in fact, I can't recall the exact moment I decided to go. Like all important things, I believe this choice came from the deepest part of my soul.

Talking about Iran has never been easy anyway, because its history is paved with events that constantly counterbalance one another, effectively making us waver between one idea and another. But perhaps this is the very peculiarity of this country: its ability to reinvent the rules of its own existence—much like nature itself, which has always been intent on surviving in new forms and dimensions.

Could a bad people have created such great beauty? This is the question we should start from to raise the necessary doubts for reopening an honest dialogue about this country and its amazing people. Because post-revolutionary Iran has been targeted by constant and violent foreign propaganda that has accentuated its limits and difficulties. It has shielded our eyes, and on the scales of a 'cold' and objective assessment, the flaws seem to weigh more heavily.

I grew up in a small town in Salento, and I still remember so clearly my mother’s praise for the 'Persian' things she bought. 'Look, this is our finest cat—it’s a Persian cat! Winny!' — 'Don’t walk on the rugs with your shoes on! They’re Persian!!' — 'Don’t put your toys on the furniture, the wood is Iranian!' In my childhood imagination, anything that held a value worthy of special attention was Persian or Iranian; yet, my mother knew nothing of Iran, much less had she ever been there. But for me, perhaps, all of this had the effect of a tsunami, and perhaps it shifted my entire trajectory of thought.

Today, I cannot hide my interest in a country that—given its complexity and the depth of its soul—continues to fascinate me deeply, fueling a kind of sixth sense and an innate attraction within me. Its people have changed me. I wish only the best for this country, which I feel so close to in these difficult times of war.

Picture: an Isfahan bazaari tries to teach me the graces of his trade.

A few books to understand Iran:

• Shah of Shahs – Ryszard Kapuściński
• A History of Modern Iran – Ervand Abrahamian
• Iran, 1979 – Antonello Sacchetti
• The Iran of the Ayatollahs – Pier Luigi Petrillo

Generally speaking I don't love the art of cinema, but among those few directors I respect (two or three), there are the Iranians

I deeply appreciate classic Iranian films because they eschew sensationalism; instead, with exquisite refinement, they transform a simple story into an extremely profound exploration of the human soul.