Sadeq Hedayat was a curious fellow. He wrote for his "shadow," and almost always decided that this mysterious absence of light should read depressive, downright suicidal stories; there is no mistaking the dark hues of his weltanschauung, for he, himself, referred to the world as a "cataract of shit," and, unsurprisingly, ended up gassing himself after an earlier attempt at suicide, if my memory serves me correctly.
I have found myself reading the works that have been translated into English, which, as far as I know, are limited to the extent of The Blind Owl and Three Drops of Blood, the latter being a small collection of short stories published this year by Oneworld Modern Classics.
The Blind Owl is a gothic love story as seen through a morbid kaleidoscope of madness. I enjoyed the first half in all its imagery, language, surrealism, but found the second half lacking; the second half resembles his short story Buried Alive, where we find our narrator bedbound, locked in misery, contemplating how to die and very much wanting to die. There is no hope, you see, but with Hedayat, there never really is.
His short stories are, for the most part, about the ugly side of life: a routinely abused and starving stray dog, longing for the companionship of a loving master; lost lovers; an ugly, neglected sister, the black sheep of the family, who uses religious values as a defensive shield against the pressures of marriage in her family and culture, while her beautiful sister is courted and marries; a ridiculed hunchback; and a few more.
While his stories do contain Persian culture, they are no doubt highly influenced by Western tradition and very accessible.
Sadeq Hedayat won't put a smile on your face, but he was a talented writer whose works are decidedly worthwhile, especially considering their brevity.