Darius the Great Is Not Okay

Darius’s sense of being an outsider is exacerbated by clinical depression. In part, this is because depression can manifest through symptoms like social withdrawal and feelings of shame; Darius tends to “get stuck thinking things” (237), including that no one likes him and that they would be better off without him. However, Darius also views his depression as yet another thing separating him from those around him and often berates himself for what he sees as his abnormality: “I hated that I couldn’t make it through a Nowruz party without experiencing Mood Slingshot Maneuvers” (187).

At first glance, Darius’s attitude towards his depression might seem unexpected. His father lives with depression as well but has urged Darius to see it as he would any other trait or condition: “Dad told me I couldn’t help my brain chemistry any more than I could help having brown eyes” (69). In other words, Stephen has sought to normalize depression for his son. What he has not done, however, is normalize discussions of mental illnesses (or even feelings in general). In fact, his tendency to respond to Darius’s feelings of hurt, anger, embarrassment, etc. by telling him not to be upset leads Darius to conclude that his father “[doesn’t] want [him] to feel anything at all” (283).

As Stephen eventually explains, the way he deals with Darius’s depression is influenced by personal experience; the fact that Stephen was once suicidal causes him to be hyperalert to the possibility of suicidality in Darius, and to overreact whenever he thinks he sees troubling signs. It’s notable that Stephen never discusses this—or, his experiences with depression at all—with Darius until the end of the novel. The way he and Darius engage with one another reflects American cultural norms that discourage obvious expressions of emotion, particularly in men. Although these norms necessarily impact any discussion of mental illnesses, they also extend far beyond it; for example, while discussing his relationship with Laleh, Darius notes, “[G]uys are not supposed to love their little sisters” (16).

This is one reason why Darius’s trip to Iran, and especially his friendship with Sohrab, proves so transformative. While it’s true that, as Darius’s mother warns him, Iranians don’t necessarily conceptualize mental illnesses the way many in America do, the rules surrounding emotional expression in general are much looser. This is particularly true of expressions of platonic affection between men; as Darius quickly discovers, Sohrab has far fewer inhibitions than the average American teenage boy, whether slinging an arm over Darius’s shoulder or telling Darius he’s his best friend. For Darius, this openness of emotional expression is liberating. Darius finds himself “learning to have less walls inside [him]” (251) not just in his friendships, but in every aspect of his life. This culminates in the candid discussion he has with his father, which clears the air between them and reassures Darius that “[i]t’s okay not be okay” (286). 

Befriending Sohrab is a turning point in Darius’s evolution as a character. Darius has never had a real friend before, so the fact that Sohrab would want to spend time with him boosts Darius’s self-esteem. It’s Sohrab’s nonjudgmental nature, however, that truly clinches the friendship. The moment Darius cites as the one that convinced him that he and Sohrab would be friends occurs when Darius, unable to think of anything to say, falls quiet mid-conversation and finds that Sohrab “[doesn’t] seem to mind”: “I liked that I could be silent with Sohrab” (94).

Sohrab’s acceptance of Darius’s quirks and insecurities likely stems from his own experiences of being judged by those around him; Sohrab has been bullied for being Bahá'í, and his father has been jailed partly as a result of his faith. This shared outsider status proves to be a point of commonality between the boys, giving each one insight into how the other feels and allowing Darius to feel comfortable sharing more of himself with Sohrab. The fact that Sohrab responds to these admissions with interest and compassion helps Darius silence some of the criticism he has heard and internalized regarding his depression; when Sohrab questions whether anything in particular caused Darius’s depression, Darius notes that where “[s]ome people meant it judgmentally when they asked,” Sohrab “said it like [Darius] was a puzzle, one he was enjoying putting together” (192). Sohrab actively affirms the parts of Darius’s identity that Darius is proud of but insecure in—most notably, by giving Darius the Team Melli jersey and ascribing his soccer skills to the fact that he’s Persian. As a result, Darius comes to feel wholly seen and understood by Sohrab in a way he hasn’t experienced with anyone else.

What’s important about this is the effect it has on Darius’s sense of self-worth and his actions. Although Sohrab accepts Darius as he is, Darius’s experience of seeing himself through Sohrab’s eyes also gives him something to aspire to; as Darius puts it, “I loved who being Sohrab’s friend made me” (266). Once again, Darius’s relationship to soccer provides a good example. Despite discovering that he enjoys the game and is good at it, Darius’s insecurities nearly lead him to turn down an opportunity to try out for the school team. He realizes, however, that “Darioush” (as Sohrab calls him) would choose differently: “I thought about telling Sohrab that I had made the team. And sending him photos of me in my kit. And him squinting and congratulating me” (307).

Darius’s friendship with Sohrab provides a corrective to the shame and doubt associated with his depression; by striving to be the person Sohrab sees him as, Darius becomes a better version of himself. As the novel draws to a close, Darius has begun to find similar inspiration in his relationships with other people. For instance, when Babou asks Darius to take care of Stephen, Darius reflects, “No one had ever told me Dad needed me. […] Maybe Babou saw something I never had” (300).