Susanne Pari’s In the Time of Our History tells the story of an Iranian-American family. I just love a good family saga, and this story of multiple generations of the Jahani family in Iran and the US is perfect. It’s not exactly a cheerful story, but it’s an absorbing and enjoyable read.
At the beginning of the novel, Mitra returns to her estranged family for the one-year anniversary of her sister Anahita’s death. The two sisters were affectionate, but opposites. Anahita married an Iranian man with a suitable family background and had two young children. Meanwhile, Mitra secretly had a tubal ligation to make herself infertile and therefore removed from the marriage market. This is simultaneously Mitra taking her future into her own hands, and Mitra doing exactly what will anger her father the most, and that’s kind of the theme of their whole relationship.
The one-year commemoration brings Mitra to consider her relationship with her sister, her mother and her relatives. Anahita’s secrets begin to come out, as Mitra reviews her memories of her sister, and decides what to tell and what to keep secret. I won’t mention the secrets in detail, because slowly discovering and reconciling the different parts of Anahita’s character is so interesting.
In the Time of Our History is a character-driven story, with developed, complicated characters. This is exactly what I love in a good family saga. Readers can see why a choice makes good sense to one character or in one generation, and also see why that choice is harmful or unpleasant to other characters.
I have to admit I don’t know too much about Iranian history, but a lot of this is extremely relatable. Many families of all backgrounds have relatives who were successful and upper-class in the old country, with some relatives who long for the good times of the past, and some who embrace American life without much looking back. There’s a complexity here between the generations and between the cultures. And families of all backgrounds have complicated loyalty and favors between relatives.
In addition to the main story about the Jahanis, there’s a secondary storyline about another Muslim immigrant family. Mitra, like her father, is doing well financially and finds herself responsible for a mother and daughter who need short-term housing. They are unofficial refugees, that is, they can’t return home, but they’re in the US on visitor visas with a time limit. As her father and their NY/NJ family show, helping a new arrival isn’t really a quick favor or a temporary connection, and when Sali, the young daughter, discovers she’s expecting a baby, Mitra and her boyfriend Julian find themselves getting pulled into their lives.
I loved the references to Sali’s English classes. I read The Bride Test a couple years ago, and the brief scene with Miss Q, the ESL teacher, really struck me and reminded me what I loved about adult ESL classes. I’m back working in adult ESL now, so I particularly appreciated the brief scenes of a new arrival making friends and gaining confidence in her new country.
I usually don’t like the theme of infertility in fiction, because I don’t like either the tragically-childless story or a miracle baby by the end of the book. Ugh, no. I hate reducing women — fictional or real — to baby-makers. (I’ve personally never wanted to have children, and my malfunctioning reproductive system agrees with me.) So, when the story began with Mitra secretly having her tubes tied, I was slightly anxious that this was going to be a Tragic Childless storyline, with a touch of tragic regret. At the risk of spoilers, I can say that’s not where this is going, even as her mother, Shirreen, comes up with stories of miracle babies. Mitra’s tubal is just one of the ways she protects herself and rejects expectations, and after reading the whole story of what pregnancy and childbirth have done to some of the other women around her, it makes more and more sense.
Overall, In the Time of Our History is a moving, intriguing family story, with developed charactors in complex conflicts. I really enjoyed reading it. Don’t go in expecting a really upbeat, cheery mood, though.