The Septembers Of Shiraz

Isaac’s transformation in the novel revolves around the role of his feet. He notices people’s feet, comments on their shoes, misses the intimacy of his wife’s feet, and of course the ultimate torture he suffers is the lashing of his feet. Finally, walking a long and difficult path is the family’s route to escape to a new life.

Before his arrest, Isaac notices the details of shoes and what they mean about the status of the owner. He rues his barefoot childhood and values the fact that he can now afford good shoes. In prison, Isaac knows his feet are in danger: “He looks at his feet—anonymous, neither beautiful nor ugly—doing their job, keeping him upright. How long will they remain unlashed?” (152). He passes time in solitary confinement watching passersby from his basement window—their feet are all he can see, but they “help him pass the hours” (192). The sound of Mohsen’s son running on the stairs above him intrigues him—when Mohsen describes not being able to afford shoes for his son, Isaac can’t help but see himself in the little boy. The torture Isaac undergoes on his feet is terrible, and his swollen and bandaged feet do not fit into his shoes for long afterwards.

When Isaac finally reaches home, Farnaz’s feet are a symbol of safety and home: “In front of him, firm and familiar, are Farnaz’s feet in her black pumps” (253). Later, they become objects for his regained desire: “Farnaz is slipping her legs into dark stockings, lifting each leg in the air with pointed toes like a dancer” (290). In the van with the other escapees, Isaac notices the pregnant woman’s “small jeweled foot, stirring in him a certain instinct—fatherly, he thinks—but perhaps simply masculine” (332). As the family walk through the night towards the border, Isaac is able to fully reconnect with his wife and child: “he walks through the stalks, as tall as he, holding Shirin’s hand, looking for Farnaz. The joy he feels at finding her reminds him of what happiness is” (336).