"WHEN MY HOUSE BURNT I BURNT WITH IT" On Occasion of Leonardo Alishan’s Death

A sad message from America tolled for Leonardo Alishan’s death. Writer and literature critic died in his burning Utah house on the night of January 7.

Few people know of Alishan in Armenia. He was introduced to the Armenian readers as the author of only some works that were seldom translated and published in Armenian press.

Leonardo Alishan was born in 1951 in Tehran. His grandfather, as Alishan used to say, changed their family’s last name into Alishan paying tribute to armenologist Ghevond Alishan and in order to keep the name in the history, as the latter had no heir. Leonardo left for USA in 1973 to complete his education. He wrote in English and Farsi though knew Armenian. He lived in Salt Lake City where he taught Farsi and Persian literature. He participated at several researches on Middle East with the Armenological Foundation, American Oriental Studies’ Foundation as well as at the workshops of the Center of Iranian Studies and Analysis and lectured on Persian and Armenian classic and contemporary literatures. He has lectured at many US universities as well as at the Yerevan State University.

It was in Yerevan in 1989 that I first listened to his lecture but was introduced to him only in 2003 in Los Angeles. Both of us were participating at "Historic places of Armenians’ habitation", a workshop organized by Prof. Richard Hovannissian in the University of South California. Leonardo Alishan lectured on the life and works of Smbat Kyureghian, painter from Jugha. By the time of our meeting I already knew the works of Nardo (as his friends called him) from the Ararat Armenian newspaper in English and the book of collected poems, "Through the Drop". Although he had spent 30 years in the States, everything in him, his appearance, way of thinking and the Iranian-Armenian dialect was leaving the impression of a man who just arrived from Iran. Intermitting his Armenian with English words, Nardo was telling us about his ancestors especially his grandmother who had lived through the Armenian Genocide and whose character often appeared in Alishan’s books ("The Phase of Moon", "A Turtle from Ceylon"). When I said once that I admire his writings especially his poems, Nardo simply said: "They are not important". He left the impression of a lonely, broken man who is drinking heavily. "I don’t know where I live, and if I belong to Iran, Armenia or America…? What am I doing here…? I’m writing silly poems". His words about Armenia’s cruel fate and today’s corrupted authorities were full of passion. "You say it’s true that Armenian girls earn money by selling their bodies?… No, I don’t want to hear of that, don’t want to know of that".

Nardo told me on seeing me off: "Now I understand why Diana Ter-Hovhannisian loves you so much…I loved you too, my brother, if you need something turn to me, I’ll do everything I can".

If there only were someone to help Leonardo Alishan not to turn into ash… On hearing of his death I immediately recalled the beginning of Nardo’s "The Ladybird and the Persian Rug" story: "My granny had 4 grandchildren and was wondering how to tear herself into 4 equal pieces. That’s why she chose me. When a house is on fire there are survivors too. I got burnt when 9-year-old. When granny cried as usual and there was no one at home, I would put my head on her knees, on her old soft dress with flowers and was vainly trying to embrace her thick trunk. Her tears would drop on my hair and on my right cheek. Yes, that was the day when my house burnt and I burnt with it".

I will not surprise if I find out some day that Nardo, the weird man, angry at life and at himself had skillfully staged his sad end…



Copyrighted by AZG Armenian Daily #004, 14/01/2005