Atiq Rahimi was born in Kabul in 1962. He fled the country in 1984, living in Pakistan for a year and then receiving political asylum in France. Rahimi studied film at Sorbonne and made several documentaries on Afghanistan. Earth and Ashes is his first novel, and subsequently his first film in fiction. He currently lives in Paris.

afghanmagazine.com spoke with Rahimi in October about Earth and Ashes, the novel and film. The interview was conducted in English, and despite language barriers -- Rahimi was nervous about his English skills -- he was profoundly articulate and poignant, even funny.

Nadia Ali Maiwandi: So much of what's written about Afghanistan lately revolves around the Taliban and their oppressive rule. Earth and Ashes was published in 2000, before the world's awareness of so much of these atrocities. What inspired this tale, and its setting during the Soviet invasion?

Atiq Rahimi: I wrote the novel in 1996, when the Taliban had just come to power. I thought, "Why? Why this violence? Why so much destruction?" During the Soviet war, there was a lot of vengeance, much catastrophe. The Taliban came from this catastrophe. It is important to know where this came from. Also, I wanted to show the three generations of Afghanistan. Dastaguir, the old man, represents Afghanistan's past, its traditions, its customs, its honor. This is the older generation. His son is the present, my generation. He works in a mine; he is the mujahideen generation, the chaos. Yassin, the grandson, is the future. He is deaf, handicapped by war. It is always true that communication between generations does not exist. My generation, the generation of Mujahideen and Communist, has no communication with the past or future.

NAM: What strikes a reader about Earth and Ashes just as much as the story itself is the way it is told. I found the use of second person unusual and with great effect. I wasn't quite sure of your intent, though-- were you looking to draw us into Dastaguir's mind, or distance us from him?

AR: When you are thinking or talking to yourself, you always use "you" [in referring to yourself]. I used second person to illustrate that Dastaguir is alone. He hasn't another person. This is introspection. Secondly, the use of this narrator creates a disassociation with the reader, but it is subtle. The words are specific, but the use of "you" makes distance between the reader and character.

NAM: Yes, sometimes the narrator is Dastaguir's conscience, offering him advice or scolding him. Other times it interrupts and speaks to other characters. It seemed to work as Dastaguir's inner voice at times, and the voice of God at other times.

AR: Yes, it is an experiment in narration, in each context the narrator changes. Anyone who listens becomes one of the characters and the narrator itself becomes one of the characters. It is like when you are writing a letter, you write about yourself and you change the narrator. The events you write are as you narrate them. Also, a lot of our great poetry is written in second person. It was a tool that many ancient poets used who wrote in Farsi, especially when the poems are directed toward God.

NAM: There are many connections made in the prose to the ancient text of Ferdowsi's Shahnama (The Book of Kings). Why did you choose to include this work in Earth in Ashes and connect it so heavily to your characters?

AR: It is very similar to Shahnama-- Rustam knows his son only after war. Shahnama is like the Greek story of Oedipus, who unknowingly kills his father in war and then marries his mother. Except in Shahnama, the father kills the son. It is reversed. This illustrates the patriarchal society of Afghanistan. Women are absent.

NAM: I did notice there were no live women your novel.

AR: Did you notice that? Yes, there is not one woman except for in dreams and in the past. Women are absent. Woman is imagined.

NAM: So you feel that Dastaguir is like Rustam because he has bad news to deliver to his son, which may kill him.

AR: Yes, the connection is made because what he says to his son might cause his own son's death.

NAM: I noticed a lot of symbolism in the story, especially apples. To me, I thought of the apples and the apple-blossom scarf to mean hope-- when you think of blossoms, you think of spring, of new life. Is this what you meant to convey?

AR: There is a lot of symbolism of apples. It is in a lot of our poetry. Apples were the first food of man and woman. The reader can interpret for themselves what these things mean, because it means something different to each one.

NAM: I noticed a lot of symbolism in the story, especially apples. To me, I thought of the apples and the apple-blossom scarf to mean hope-- when you think of blossoms, you think of spring, of new life. Is this what you meant to convey?

AR: (Rahimi laughs) It was not at all easy to adapt to film. I worked on the film for two years. I had to find cinematic language, see how to show all these things in cinema.

NAM: How did you find actors?

AR: That was also not easy. All but one had no professional experience. I auditioned over 60 for the part of the old man, and about as many children. I took auditions in Kabul and Pul-e Khumri. That's where it was shot, in Pul-e Khumri, north Afghanistan.

NAM: How was the film received in Afghanistan?

AR: Very well, really. I had two conditions on showing it: One, that is must not be censored. There is a scene where a naked woman is running-I did not want it censored. It is not pornographic-it had a reason. Two, I wanted a mixed audience of men and women, no separation.

NAM: And both of your conditions were met?

AR: Yes.

NAM: How were you able to do that..?

AR: (He laughs) I don't rest until I get what I want.

NAM: Congratulations on your many awards. Winning the Cannes must have been exciting.

AR: Yes, thank you. We won Cannes, and also Best Film and Best Actor in the Osian Cinefan Film Festival held in New Dehli.

NAM: Are there any plans to bring the film to the United States?

AR: It is coming to the New York Museum, perhaps around March. Also in Berkeley, California for a film festival there.

NAM: What are you working on now?

AR: I have a new book, One Thousand Houses of Dreams and Terror, which was published two years ago in Europe, and has been translated into many languages-French, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, German, and many others. This one is about the women of Afghanistan-- and love and war and terror. e women of Afghanistan-- and their love and war and terror. I'm currently working on translating this novel into a film.