For They Have Sown the Wind by Alessandro Perissinotto

First published in Italy in 2011; published in translation by Piemme on September 16, 2014

Fools always need an enemy to feel powerful. That is why they are always defining and deriding enemies, urging their exclusion from society. Such is the lesson of For They Have Sown the Wind, a novel that takes an unfortunate amount of time to make a meaningful point.

Di Stefano does not know whether his client, Giacomo Musso, is innocent or guilty of the crime for which he has been jailed. He gives Musso some photographs to jog his memory and asks Musso to write down what happened. Instead of getting to the point, Musso puts the pictures in chronological order and writes about each one. The result is a detailed historical account of Musso's relationship with his wife.

Musso, trained as a teacher but employed as a curator of children's exhibits in a science museum, met Shirin while he was working as a part-time bartender in Paris. Shirin was born in France to wealthy Iranian parents. Musso describes their life together, first in France and then in Italy. Musso's love of Shirin forces him to confront his view of modern Iran as a land of "nuclear power plants, weapons, and bloodthirsty scientists with long beards" rather than a country of ski lifts, cell phones, and television game shows.

Racial and religious hatred is the prevalent theme in Musso's account of his experience with Shirin in Italy and France. Although the novel's first half is slow-moving and dry, the story gains interest when Musso explains how, while teaching at a Catholic school in Italy, his marriage to Shirin became a serious career impediment. Religious persecution becomes even more apparent when the town's mayor seeks the exclusion of Shirin from the town's festival on the ground that a Muslim should not wear the town's traditional costumes or pollute its songs. Shirin's atheism makes her no less Islamic in the town's eyes.

In a pivotol scene, Shirin stands up for a Tunisian woman enjoying a beach who refuses to expose the amount of skin demanded by a local ordinance. Alessandro Perissinotto writes with extraordinary insight into the conflict between western feminists who oppose religious traditions that require women to hide their bodies and Muslim women who are comfortable with their cultural traditions and do not view them as instruments of oppression. The novel also engages in an interesting debate about the value of tradition versus the harms that traditions perpetuate.

As much as I found parts of the novel to be compelling, I was put off by an underlying story that struck me as forced and melodramatic. Shirin's evolving attitude toward her relationship with Musso (as opposed to her evolving sense of self) lacks the development needed to make it convincing. Worse than that, when the novel isn't brilliant, it drags. The crime around which the plot is organized is all but lost for most of the story. When it is finally revealed in the closing pages, I thought it was preposterous. The crime exists only to shock the reader in the novel's closing pages, but the motivation for the crime is unconvincing at best. I disliked about half of this novel but absolutely loved the parts that engaged me. My decision to recommend the novel with reservations is a compromise verdict.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS