تحلیل روانشناختی پذیرشِ سوگ در خاطره نویسی های شاهرخ مسکوب و مصطفی صادق رافعی براساس نظریة کوبلر راس

Abstract

Introduction

Mourning holds significant psychological and literary value, as it reflects the complex emotional and behavioral responses individuals experience following the loss of a loved one. This process often encompasses a blend of thoughts, emotions, and actions that people engage in when faced with loss or even the threat of it. Literature, as a medium deeply intertwined with human emotion, offers a unique space to explore and articulate grief. In this context, examining the relationship between literary expression and psychological theories becomes essential.
This study focuses on the portrayal of mourning in the works of Shahrokh Meskoob and Mostafa Sadegh Rafi, both of whom have written autobiographical reflections centered on the loss of their mothers. Their memoirs transcend personal experience to engage with broader cultural and psychological dimensions of grief. This positions their work within the realm of comparative literature, which explores shared themes across different literary traditions and national boundaries. By analyzing how mourning is expressed both individually and collectively, this study seeks to uncover how a universal experience—such as the death of a mother—is shaped, narrated, and internalized through literature.
The primary goals of this research are threefold: (1) to conduct a comparative analysis of the two memoirs, (2) to explore the representation of mourning as a literary theme, and (3) to apply Elisabeth Kübler-Ross's five-stage model of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—to the memoirs of Meskoob and Rafi in order to better understand the psychological depth embedded in their narratives.
 

Methodology

This study adopts a descriptive-analytical and comparative approach to examine how mourning is represented in the selected memoirs. It relies on a close reading of Shahrokh Meskoob’s Mourning Mother and Mostafa Sadegh Rafi’s Matn-e Alam (The Text of Grief), focusing on the emotional trajectory of each author in response to maternal loss.
The theoretical framework is grounded in Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s model of the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. These stages serve as a lens through which the psychological responses in both texts are interpreted. By combining literary analysis with psychological theory, the study aims to illuminate how each writer articulates and processes grief, and how their individual experiences resonate with broader patterns of mourning across cultures.
 

Discussion

The five stages of grief identified by Kübler-Ross—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—are clearly present in the writings of both Meskoob and Rafei. However, these stages do not unfold in a straightforward, linear progression, particularly in Meskoob’s case. Rather, they emerge sporadically, sometimes overlapping, creating a layered and fragmented portrayal of grief. It is essential to recognize that grief is not meant to linger indefinitely in any one phase; instead, it should ideally move toward resolution, which Kübler-Ross defines as acceptance. reaching this final stage, however, is rarely immediate or easy. For Meskoob, it takes years—if it happens at all. Outwardly, he may appear to accept his mother’s death, but his persistent return to her memory, his dreams of her, and his inability to let go suggest otherwise. He continues to live with her presence—both asleep and awake.
-Shock and Denial
For Meskoob, the news of his mother’s illness and passing provokes deep shock and disbelief. He cannot bring himself to accept it. At times, he even entertains the hope that the news was false. This denial stretches on for years; he continues to write letters to her as though she were still alive. Such resistance is rooted in the emotional closeness they shared—his mother was not only a parent but, in many ways, the foundation of his identity.
In Rafei’s account, denial is equally vivid. Even after seeing his mother’s shrouded body, the protagonist struggles to believe she is truly gone. He still hears her voice and asks, “If my mother is not here, then why am I?” The simplicity of the question belies its emotional weight, conveying the total disorientation of that moment.
-Anger
Once the shock begins to subside, Meskoob finds himself overwhelmed by anger. He describes a “new misfortune” that makes him want to upend the world. His fury is not directed at a single cause—it extends to society, to fate, to life itself. This anger seems to stem from powerlessness: he could do nothing to stop what happened. Lacking a strong spiritual framework that might have offered solace or meaning, he remains trapped in despair.
Rafei’s anger is more subdued, but no less real. The words he uses—muḥaṭṭama ("shattered"), ṭaḥṭaḥ ("crushed")—speak of emotional devastation. He is not only mourning his mother, but also railing against the social structures that left her vulnerable. His grief becomes a lens through which he views broader injustices. His sorrow is personal, but also political.
-Bargaining
In Meskoob’s writing, the bargaining phase is subtle but present. He does not negotiate in a traditional religious sense, but he does cry out to a higher power—asking to be “seen.” Even without a firm belief in God, he reaches beyond himself in a moment of vulnerability. This longing reflects a universal human impulse: the need for comfort from something greater when confronted with loss.
Rafei’s bargaining is more direct. His protagonist pleads with God for mercy. The tone is quiet, even fatigued, but the appeal is sincere. It reveals a hope—however faint—that divine compassion might soften the pain.
-Depression
Meskoob’s grief is heavy and unrelenting. His sorrow manifests through weeping, a sense of suffocation, and a weight he cannot shake. At times, he writes as though death itself flows through his veins. His deep depression is tied not only to his emotional bond with his mother but also to his lack of religious belief. Without a sense of an afterlife, death becomes an absolute void.
Rafei too expresses profound depression. After the burial, time seems to unravel. The world turns upside down. His mother, once the anchor of his existence, is gone—and with her, the ground beneath his feet. Her loss feels like the collapse of everything familiar.
-Acceptance
Meskoob never seems to fully accept his mother’s death. He clings to her memory, her presence in dreams, and the pain of her absence. His grief remains unresolved. For him, she was the center of existence, and without her, life feels fragmented. Lacking belief in an afterlife, he cannot envision her as having moved on—only as vanished.
Rafei, by contrast, gradually reaches a place of acceptance. Though his mother’s death came too soon, he does not deny it. He narrates her passing plainly, accepting it as the outcome of a difficult life and a weary heart. His reflections show a person still in mourning, but learning to coexist with loss.
 

Conclusion

This comparative reading of Meskoob and Rafei highlights two deeply personal yet distinct approaches to mourning. In Rafei’s case, the temporal distance between his mother’s death and the act of writing appears to have granted him some emotional clarity. The pain is still there—palpable and unresolved in places—but there is also movement, a sense of coming to terms. His anger, while quieter than Meskoob’s, is present and socially aware. His grief stretches beyond the personal, pointing toward systemic injustices. When he bargains, it is with God—and even that is a subdued, weary hope. His depression, though profound, does not freeze him in time. By the time he writes, acceptance has begun to emerge—in his tone, his vocabulary, and his way of remembering.
Meskoob, however, remains suspended in grief. He never reaches a point of resolution. His writing is introspective, personal, and solitary. He does not attempt to draw broader conclusions or speak to a collective experience. His sorrow remains internalized, circling endlessly around loss.
Ultimately, the distinction between these two voices lies in how they direct their grief. Rafei externalizes his sorrow, transforming it into insight about the world around him—particularly the role of women in patriarchal Egypt. Meskoob internalizes his pain, dwelling in memory and emotional paralysis. Both narratives are powerful in their honesty, but only one suggests the possibility of healing.