Iran’s straight-laced censors are not known for their tolerance of sexually risque literature, so a book called A Memory of My Melancholy Whores was never likely to meet with their approval.
But in their determination to get Gabriel García Márquez’s highly acclaimed work into the bookshops, local publishers hit on an audacious ruse - they sanitised its title.
As a result, the normally vigilant gaze of culture and Islamic guidance ministry officials was averted when a novel by the Nobel prize-winning author innocuously titled Memories of My Melancholy Sweethearts was submitted and accordingly authorised for publication.
It’s a funny world. In this country, retitling a book called Memories of My Melancholy Sweethearts as A Memory of My Melancholy Whores would be the best way to get people to read it.
(Read Brad Hooper’s review.)
