By Houshand Asadi

Houshang Asadi’s Letters to My Torturer is likely one of the so much harrowing money owed of human soreness to emerge from Iran and is now to be had for the 1st time in paperback. saved in solitary confinement for over years in a single of the main notorious prisons in Tehran, admired Iranian journalist, Houshang Asadi suffered inhuman degradations and brutal, senseless torture by the hands of a guy who brought himself as ‘Brother Hamid’. a guy with no whose permission he couldn’t consume, sleep, obtain remedy, or visit the lavatory. a guy who knew no limits while it got here to extracting ‘confessions’: suspended from the ceiling, overwhelmed, and compelled to bark like a puppy, Asadi turned a undercover agent for the Russians, for the British – for an individual. Narrowly escaping execution because the executive unleashed a bloody pogrom opposed to political prisoners that left hundreds of thousands lifeless, he used to be hauled ahead of a sham courtroom and sentenced to 15 years. In exile, stricken by nightmares and flashbacks, Asadi’ first test at recording his stories led to a center assault. the following eventually he confronts his torturer one final time, talking for these whose voices is just not heard, and gives a chilling glimpse into the center of Iran and the perform of state-sponsored justice. In 1983, the journalist, author, and translator Houshang Asadi was once locked in a Tehran legal. less than torture, he stated he used to be a secret agent. lots of his buddies additionally confessed and have been later done. He was once published after six years. at the present time he lives in Paris along with his spouse, Nooshabeh Amiri. They write for the high-profile Iranian information site Rooz on-line. "Remarkable on any phrases, however it is made specifically memorable through the chilling irony and heartbreaking naïveté that symbolize Mr. Asadi’s tale." Wall highway magazine "With relocating tales approximately fellow prisoners, biting statement at the spiritual dictates imposed through his jailers, and meditations at the soul-destroying impression of fake confessions and the certain cruelty of his ideological, authoritarian interrogators, Asadi’s uncomplicated prose draws at the same time the proof he stories repel... A frightening glimpse of the decades-long nightmare nonetheless afflicting the folk of Iran." Kirkus

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Additional resources for Letters to My Torturer: Love, Revolution, and Imprisonment in Iran

Sample text

Again and again this child would find himself inhaling the air of death. The reason why this death, which had seemed so certain, had been delayed, would remain unclear. ” She was referring to the meaning of my name. I, who had just become interested in reading and books, replied: “Houshang is the name of the second of the ancient Iranian kings. ” Overwhelmed with joy, my mother started kissing my face, never imagining that years after her death I’d be forced to account for my name in one of Iran’s most horrifying prisons.

Then one day, a few years ago, someone emailed me an image. He asked if I knew the man in the photo. I did. It was Brother Hamid, by this time one of Iran’s ambassadors. Staring into his eyes, I knew I needed to confront my torturer and the living nightmare that was his legacy to me. I searched through my scattered notes, written intermittently over the years since my release from prison, but they were filled with hatred and I no longer identified with them. I didn’t wish to view the world, as my torturer had, in black and white terms.

The trousers are baggy and falling down. The slippers are old and about two sizes too big for my feet. They take me into another room. I take off the blindfold. A chubby man with a bushy beard places a placard around my neck and photographs me a few times. Around fifteen years later, when I went to the Islamic court to ask for permission to leave the county and the judge’s assistant brought over my file, I saw one of those pictures again. I was a young man in the photograph, thirty-two years of age with a full head of black hair, a thick moustache, a plump, happy face, and a curious smile on my lips.

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