Book Club: Martyr!

Dear Book Club,

I’ve been working tirelessly to finish paintings for an upcoming group show at The Cathedral in Austin, TX on May 30th. Some days, I find solace in the silence—just the sound of the paintbrush against the canvas and my thoughts. Other times, I get completely lost in podcasts and audiobooks.

One audiobook I devoured recently was Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar. And before you rush to order a physical copy—I highly recommend listening to the audiobook. The accents bring the characters to life in a way that made me fall just a little bit in love with each of them.

Akbar’s prose feels like poetry for the ears—like silk against the skin. But it also pulls you into moments so raw and personal that it feels like you’re falling down a dark well of despair, because it hits too close to home. There’s a haunting beauty to the way the main character, Cyrus Shams, experiences depression.

Cyrus Shams is a queer Iranian-American poet grappling with life in the Midwest after the death of his mother in the 1988 Iran Air Flight 655 tragedy. Akbar gives voice to Cyrus’s grief, addiction, insomnia, and alienation—amplified by his complex cultural identity and encounters with racism. It's vital to see these themes explored, especially for the current generation of third-culture kids who often lack a safe space to examine these issues.

“At the intersection of Iranian-ness and Midwestern-ness was pathological politeness, an immobilizing compulsivity to avoid causing distress in anyone else. Cyrus thought about this a lot. You cooed at their ugly babies, nodded along with their racist bullshit… Midwestern politeness felt that way too, Cyrus learned, like it was burning cigarette holes in your soul.”— Cyrus, Martyr!

As Cyrus embarks on a journey toward sobriety, he becomes obsessed with the idea of martyrdom, researching the lives and deaths of martyrs throughout history. This quest takes him to New York City, where he meets Orkideh, a terminally ill Iranian artist staging her final performance at the Brooklyn Museum. Through his connection with her, Cyrus confronts his grief and unravels long-buried family truths, including revelations about his mother and his own identity.

“It’s easy for people who have sacrificed nothing to rationalize their own ordinariness by calling me lucky. But I sacrificed my entire life; I sold it to the abyss. And the abyss gave me art.”— Orkideh, Martyr!

So many lines from this novel hit me in places I didn’t even know existed. Orkideh says, “Painting saved me, but I can’t say I loved painting. I painted because I needed to. What I really loved, what I love, is having-painted. That was the high. Making something that would never have existed in the entirety of humanity had I not been there at that specific moment to make it.” That line has been echoing in my head as I’ve gone deeper into my own painting practice for this gallery show. The beginning of each piece feels like an uphill battle—frustrating and painful. But then, something shifts. Suddenly, you're weightless. Time dissolves. You fall in love with what you've just created. You feel vulnerable. And when you finally look up, it’s 5 a.m.

The novel completely drew me in with its layered structure—shifting perspectives, surreal dream sequences, and of course, Akbar’s poetic prose. I can’t wait to see what he writes next, but Martyr! has left me deeply moved and hungry for more.

With love,Aasiyah

P.S. If you’ve already read this one, reply and let me know your thoughts—I’d love to talk about it. And if not, consider this your sign to pick it up.