Ali and Nino: A Love Story

There is perhaps no better introduction to the Caucasus than reading the fictional “Ali and Nino” (1937), by Kurban Said (pseudonym for Lev Nussimbaum). Part touching love story, part description of the contrasting cultures in this part of the world, set against the outbreak of the First World War and the Russian Revolution, and its effects on Azerbaijan. Ali Khan is a Muslim Azerbaijani of Persian origin, Nino a Georgian, thus European, and Christian, but their love for each other seems to overcome the cultural differences, and their parents are modern enough to ultimately accept this. Yet, their live together becomes increasingly difficult because of a treacherous Armenian (of course, in an Azerbijani book), and modernity-opposing show more habits as blood honour and broader family values rooted in religion. And is ultimately undone by Azarbaijani nationalism. Read this book! show less

If Azerbaijan were to have a national book, many say that Ali and Nino would be it. A sweeping historical novel set in Baku during World War I, the protagonists Ali and Nino represent all the contradictions, alliances, and compromises that bring such complex diversity to such a geographically small region.

Ali Khan Shirvanshir loves Baku, the East, the desert, and his religion as a Mohammedan. His family has lived, and died in heroic battles against outsiders, in the Caucasus for centuries. But he is coming of age at a difficult time. Russia has introduced European sensibilities to the region, and with the outbreak of a distant world war, allegiances must be decided.

Nino Kipiani is a Georgian princess, a Christian, and raised as a show more European. She loves all things cosmopolitan and detests the idea of wearing a veil or adopting Eastern customs that are denigrating to women. As fate would have it, the two meet as schoolchildren, fall in love, and must defy parents, convention, and ethnic rancor to be together.

Much like the tale told by Robert Duvall in "Secondhand Lions", there is much swashbuckling: wild rides through the desert on horseback, blood feuds, mountain escapes, eunuchs and harems. But rescuing the novel from a Hollywood blockbuster fate is the historical setting and the complexity of the competing forces tearing at the lovers and the region.

Situated in Baku, but with excursions into Georgia, Persia, and Dagestan, and Armenia in the wings, the novel takes us through the collection of ethnically different peoples with different languages, religions, and cultural norms that comprise the Caucuses. The book begins with a catalogue of some of these differences.

We were a very mixed lot, we forty schoolboys who were having a Geography lesson one hot afternoon in the Imperial Russian Humanistic High School of Baku, Transcaucasia: thirty Mohammedans, four Armenians, two Poles, three Sectarians, and one Russian.

The quote also highlights the numerical disadvantage of the Russians, and yet how much influence they have in the region. As the book progresses, nascent nation building is caught up in larger battles between the new Soviet regime and the Ottomans.

Even the authorship of the book reflects the ambiguity and overlapping influences of the region. First published in Germany in 1937, the book was said to be the work of Kurban Said, but his true identity remained a mystery for decades. Even today there is some question, but it is generally believed to be the pen name for a joint collaboration between Baroness Elfriede Ehrenfels and an émigré from Azerbaijan, Lev Nussimbaum, who was born Jewish and converted to Islam. Azerbaijanis often cite an Azerbaijani writer named Chemenzeminli as the author. Once again Europe and Asia meet, Christians, Jews, and Muslims mingle, and nationalities collide in a muddle that seems indecipherable. But as Paul Theroux writes in the afterword:

Ali and Nino is both a love story and a cultural artifact, and part of its message is that governments rise and fall, wars rage, cities are laid to waste, people are displaced, authors die. What remains? Well, written words remain, and perhaps it is of little consequence who wrote them. show less

I had a hard time getting into the first few chapters of this book, but I stuck with it, and I'm glad that I did. Around the middle, the story picks up and starts to get breathlessly exciting, and beautiful descriptions of cultures and places. The story mainly takes place in Daku, Azerbeijan, but parts of it also take place in the surrounding Caucasus, Georgia, and Iran. Minutely detailed descriptions of setting, food, people, and customs are poetic and really make the reader feel as if they are in a bustling foreign locale. Legends and religious stories are retold without distracting from the overall flow of the narrative, but instead only adding to the background of the characters and the story. The two main characters, Ali, a Muslim, show more and Nino, his Christian love, are well-drawn, especially Ali, who narrates with a distinctive voice. This is a timely love story as divisions between Christians and Muslims continue to exist through out the world. Although the period details of the story are concrete, the essence feels as if it could happen today. A beautiful work of art, and I highly recommend it. show less

I have a book club that "reads around the world." For such a tucked away country as Azerbaijan, this book packs an unexpected punch. It is a delicate weaving of plot with geographical details, historical facts, and cultural nuances, creating a graceful balance that is perfect for this genre.

One reviewer mentioned that the book seems to be divided into 3 flowing phases: the first third drops names of various leaders throughout Middle Eastern history, in which you might find yourself floundering until you can grasp that "Mohammedan" is used synonymously in the book with East/Asiatic, and "Georgian" is synonymous with West/Europe/Christian. Once you get a feel for this rocking back and forth of East/West, Asia/Europe, Muslim/Christian, show more you'll be able to orient yourself within the story.

By this time, the plot starts rolling, and you are becoming more familiar with the characters and taking an interest in their activities. I personally found a topic or two each chapter to spend a few minutes researching on the internet (since the novel is so geographically-, historically-, and culturally-grounded), and the pictures and articles I looked through really helped the story come to life in a spectacular way, and vice versa.

Take quotes such as this:

"The glowing breath of Zoroaster's fire swept across the plain on the wings of the desert wind."

This perhaps seem loquacious, until your side-reading leads you to discover that not only does Azerbaijan have large reserves of natural gas, but that gas has escaped to the surface in some areas creating fires that have been burning for years. These "eternal fires" are thought to have played an important role in Zoroastrianism in Azerbaijan and Persia.

Cultural nuances dig deeper from there as the author explains the context of the time, so it will help if you spend a minute or two reading about Shia/Sunni Islam and the "Mourning of Muharram." Soon you find yourself rolling into the final third of the book, where you feel fully settled into the historical context, and then the book becomes a page-turner.

This novel is absolutely a gem and a shining example of historical fiction that will unlock the thoughts and mystery of Azerbaijan. show less

Ali and Nino is a lovestory, but what struck me was that it's not so much about the love between two people. Much more about the love for a country, love for the idea of a multiethnic state, love for freedom of foreign aggressors.
Ali and Nino represent two of the main ethnic groups in the Caucasus, the muslim Azerbaijani and the Christian Georgians. They also represent two important political ideas in the 1910's in the Caucasus, namely the glorification of traditional life (named Asia), and the glorification of modern life (named Europe).

We're talking about the era of the first world war. The Caucasus was caught up in the tensions between Russia, Turkey, and the British colonial empire. Azerbaijan as an oil rich region was too show more important an area to be left alone by these foreign powers. The main idea of this book to me, was that a multiethnic independent Azerbaijan would have been possible, had it not been sadly caught up in this international turmoil. Look at Nino (representing the west) and Ali (representing the east). Their love is not without troubles, but it IS possible. Nino is terribly unhappy during their short exile in islamic Persia, Ali is sure that he would be as unhappy in modern Europe, however, their love blossoms exactely in this fragile border region of Europe and Asia. Both want to stay, to defend it till the bitter end.

Ali dies with Azerbaijan. Multietnic love dies with Azerbaijan. The sad ending of this story is the ending of the possibility of this free state. All the more relevant today (August 2008), as news reached us of Russian aggression in Azerbaijan's neighbouring country, Georgia. It seems history is repeating itself. Perhaps it is because of this actuality that to me the "lovestory" became symbolic more than the real topic of this book.

What I appreciated about this book was its style, pure and sober, and its Romantic theme, which was not so much the romance between Ali and Nino, but more the Romantic idea of freedom and independency. What troubled me at times were the stereotypical ideas of east and west. However, considering that this novel was originally published in the 1930's, I managed to see through that. It is striking that some of the main troubles of our world today are foreseen in this novel. show less

When I picked Ali and Nino for my Books-of-Asia read from Azerbaijan, I was skeptical, owing to the fact that this is a love story, and I generally run away from romances. By the time I finished however, I was captivated. Ali and Nino is more than a love story. It is passion, religion, war, history, culture, honor, beliefs, friendship, and so much more.

Set in a small town in Baku, Azerbaijan at the onset of the First World War, it is a narrative through the eyes of Ali Khan Shirvanshir, growing up as a Mohammedan in a country home to various ethnicities, lying at the crossroads of Europe and Asia. Nino Kipiani is a Georgian Christian who goes to the girls’ school in the same town, and they like each other. Their families and friends show more know it and accept it, despite the differences in culture and sensibilities.

In their quest to be together, they overcome a kidnap, a blood feud and a scandal, fleeing from Baku, through beautiful desert roads and remote villages in the mountains, to the neighboring Persia. Nino hates it there, as she is forced to abide by Persian customs she despises.
Eventually, the lovers (now married) move back to their homeland, but are forced to flee again when war comes to Baku. Ali now has to choose between his loyalties to his Asian family’s upbringing and his unwavering love and devotion to Nino.

By the time this novel finishes, you experience a time in history so fascinating, you can’t help feel sad it’s over. You know about harems, Muslim households, local beliefs, norms, wedding rituals, the place of women, Greek customs, camels and horses, deserts and trees, towns and bazaars; and it weaves a tapestry so rich in your mind, you wish you were exported to that era, even for a day.

Ali’s refusal to treat Nino as “an acre on which the man sows”, loving her just for who she is; Nino’s acceptance of Ali even when their customs are as different as chalk and cheese, and their ever-evolving relationship as they try to balance Eastern and Western beliefs in a marriage, are what makes these characters so endearing. I wasn’t aware how much I was rooting for them until the tragic, but powerful ending.

Ali and Nino is a beautiful, beautiful lesson in history, culture, love and war. A book the world deserves to know better. show less

#ReadAroundTheWorld. #Azerbaijan

Set between 1914 and 1920 in Baku (Azerbaijan), Tbilisi (Georgia) and Tehran, this is an historical fiction and romance. Written by the mysterious Kurban Said in 1937, initially thought to be an Austrian Duchess but later thought to be the Jewish writer Lev Nussimbaum who converted to Islam and wrote under the pseudonyms Essad Bey and Kurban Said or alternatively Yusif Vazir Chamanzaminli, an Azerbaijani statesman and writer who died in the Gulags under Soviet Russia accused of producing “counter-revolutionary” works. It was first translated into English in 1970. This book chronicles the turbulent love story between Ali Khan Shirvanshir, a Shi’ite Muslim of Iranian descent, and the beautiful Nino show more Kipiani, a Georgian Christian.

The book teases out the vast differences between the two, the cultural divide between East and West and the religious divide between their faiths. This was a fascinating read, giving an insight into the country of Azerbaijan, straddling Asia and Europe, and bordered by Russia, Iran, Turkey and Armenia. Some of the attitudes and actions towards women are hard to read, particularly those coming from Ali’s family. Ali is given the advice, “A man must marry, preferably the woman he likes. She need not like him in return. A wise man does not court a woman. The woman is just the acre, on which the man sows. Must the field love the farmer? Enough that the farmer loves the field. Marry, but never forget: the woman is just an acre.’ ‘So you believe that a woman has neither soul nor intelligence?’ He looked at me pityingly: ‘How can you ask, Ali Khan? Of course she hasn’t. Why should a woman have either? It is enough for her to be chaste and have many children.”

He himself seems less wedded to the idea of inferiority, and the feisty Nino challenges his views and traditions, however there is still the subconscious bias towards the wife as property that comes through. She says of her time in the harem in Persia, “You like it here, but I am dishonoured every day.” “What do you mean, dishonoured?” “Everybody treats me like a very expensive and fragile thing. I don’t know how expensive I am, but I am neither fragile nor a thing.” I felt the writer has a somewhat ironic and satirical tone at times, and certainly highlights the plight of women. This book was well worth reading for those interested in other places, eras and cultures. 4.5 stars. show less