Man of My Time

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Man of My Time Page 30

by Dalia Sofer


  “Omid,” I said. “Do you celebrate shabeh yaldā over there?”

  “We don’t,” he said. “Here the winter solstice means organ recitals in grand cathedrals. Usually Bach.”

  “What time is it there?”

  “It’s almost three in the afternoon.”

  “Isn’t it strange,” I said, “that our solstice is almost over and yours is just beginning?”

  “Are you high?” he said, laughing. “You sound like a teenager on weed.”

  * * *

  AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, drink in hand, I stared for some time at the mint candy box. I pictured my father as a suited figurine inside a Märklin dining car, riding from a planter in the Metropolitan Museum to a sycamore tree in Tehran, and back again—in a timeless loop. When I noticed the cuckoo bird sticking out of my bag, I pulled out the clock, hung it on a bare nail on the wall, wound the chains, and watched the yellow pendulum sway back and forth. Leaning toward the table, I laid my head on my forearms and fell asleep. The red bird bounced out of its cage and called out the time at the top of every hour. I let it. I longed for daylight.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank Ileene Smith, whose intelligence, insight, and dedication made our work together feel like a true collaboration; I feel so fortunate to have had the experience. I am also indebted to Jonathan Galassi and Mitzi Angel for their vote of confidence, and to everyone at FSG for continued support and enthusiasm. And my deep thanks to David McCormick, steadfast agent and friend, who has stuck by me through good times and bad.

  Over the years I have been sustained by the generosity of many organizations, including the Whiting Foundation, PEN America, the Jewish Book Council, the Sami Rohr Jewish Literary Institute, the Sirenland Fellowship, the Santa Maddalena Foundation, and the Corporation of Yaddo, which has on multiple occasions offered me not only the luxury of uninterrupted time but also a bridge to beautiful, lasting friendships.

  A big thanks to the Encyclopædia Iranica—an unparalleled resource on Iranian history and culture—made possible by Professor Ehsan Yarshater and his team of scholars. I am also indebted to Salvatore Quasimodo for his poem “Man of My Time” (Uomo del mio tempo), from which the title of this novel is derived, and to Ardeshir Mohassess, whose wry and satirical illustrations offered me inspiration as I wrote; having one of these illustrations on the cover of this book is a dream I dared not think possible.

  To my dear friend Giorgio van Straten—thank you for your unconditional affection and for standing by me no matter what, especially when it counted most. And to my longtime friends Joy Jacobson (who read multiple drafts of this novel and offered insights every step of the way) and Sophie Arnold—I am grateful, and I cherish our long hours of quiet conversation. I also thank Gary Lippman for his thoughtfulness and boundless generosity, and Lucy Rosenthal for more than two decades of support and friendship.

  Finally, to Salar: thank you for reconnecting me to the pulse of Tehran—a city that continues to live and breathe in my heart—and for so much more. I’m grateful to Nina, Tanya, Prudy, Marc, and Carol for their enduring kindness, and to Stephanie, Andrew, Maya, Ellie, Leah, and Simon for making me turn to the future despite my propensity to dig the past. To Ymelda I remain indebted for her big heart and humanity. And above all, to my dear siblings—Joseph, Alfred, and Orly—I thank you for showing me, again and again, that home transcends geography. I am also forever grateful to my mother, Farah, for her tenderness, grace, and strength, and to my father, Simon, who, while no longer here, continues to walk with me.

  ALSO BY DALIA SOFER

  The Septembers of Shiraz

  A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dalia Sofer is the author of the national bestseller The Septembers of Shiraz, which won the PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize, was a finalist for a National Jewish Book Award, was long-listed for the Orange Prize, and was a New York Times Notable Book. It was published in sixteen countries. Sofer is a recipient of a Whiting Writers’ Award, and her work has appeared in The New York Times Book Review, The Believer, the Los Angeles Review of Books, and elsewhere. Born in Tehran, Iran, she lives in New York City. You can sign up for email updates here.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Part Two

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Part Three

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Dalia Sofer

  A Note About the Author

  Copyright

  Farrar, Straus and Giroux

  120 Broadway, New York 10271

  Copyright © 2020 by Dalia Sofer

  All rights reserved

  First edition, 2020

  Grateful acknowledgment is made for permission to reprint lines from “Tablet X” from Gilgamesh: A New Rendering in English Verse, by David Ferry. Copyright © 1992 by David Ferry. Reprinted by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

  E-book ISBN: 978-0-374-72187-9

  Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].

  www.fsgbooks.com

  www.twitter.com/fsgbooks • www.facebook.com/fsgbooks

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 


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