In modern Tajikistan, Sufi communities do not represent a politically- and socially-important group. As the country has followed the path of Soviet emancipation and post-Soviet nation building, most residents of Tajikistan consider Sufism a practice of the past. In the eyes of secularized persons and Muslim reformists alike, the few thousand modern Sufism devotees (tariqati) are lunatics, fools, or even religious backsliders. Meanwhile, Sufis do not see themselves as radicals or heretics, and while they serve apprenticeship with living saints—pirs (or eshons), following the practices of various schools of mysticism (like Naqshbandiya or Qadiriya), they consider themselves keepers and successors of Central Asian or even global Islamic tradition, rich and meaningful. This ambiguous perception of Sufism is what Benjamin Gatling calls the “paradoxical present” (12), which always involves the distant or recent past in the form of memories, stories, artifacts, rituals, and embodied behaviors. The author prefers to examine this connection not as a theme of continuity and rupture but in terms of coexistent temporalities and asynchrony.

Chapter 1, “Sufis in Tajikistan,” opens with an opinion common among many people, “from imams to diplomats”: “there's no Sufism here” (21). As for Sufis themselves, they regret that Sufism lost its former popularity. Even the late Soviet era is viewed by the devotees as a better environment for spiritual teachers and mystic concepts. In this perspective, Tajikistani Sufis do not need the idea of Islamic revival, as distinguished from Muslim reformists. The Sufis perceive themselves as keepers of an authentic tradition based on the genealogy and spiritual chain (silsila) of pirs, on the stories of their miracles and piety, and on mystic knowledge. In Chapter 2, “Nostalgia and Muslimness,” Gatling continues to dissect the pessimistic language of decline and devolution of Tajikistani Sufis. In their ceaseless references to the past, the researcher sees a nostalgia for religious devoutness and social order, in which the worship of pirs was the everyday social norm. This nostalgia represents a peculiar kind of criticism of modern conditions, in which social ties are disrupted by mass migration, while religiosity falls victim to state repressions and new interpretations alike. However, according to Gatling, this very nostalgia normalizes the past and future, which the Sufis imagine as inevitable triumph; the nostalgia allows formulating what it means to be a Muslim and shapes Sufi agency amid the uncertainty of the present.

Chapter 3, “Narrating the Past,” demonstrates how Sufis address historical characters and events in their modern narratives. Borrowing basic folklore and hagiological genres and storylines, Sufi authors blend them with the national framework of Soviet origin, thus expressing their opinions on pressing topics among the modern audience. This intertextuality permeates different temporalities, creating the Sufi devotional project (88), which is adjusted to today's local context. In Chapter 4, “Material Sainthood,” Gatling analyzes books and written texts that, being inherently material, acquire externality with regard to various situations and relations, connecting them through entextualization and recontextualization. Interpreting texts with multiple levels of meaning becomes an important means of building internal hierarchies within Sufi communities and their complex relations with the society and state. Chapter 5, “Remembering God,” is devoted to the practices of chanting and zikr, which act as a way of communion with the inner meanings of Sufism. Through routine repetition, these practices recreate the special, sacred flow of time. In Chapter 6, “Learning to Be Sufi,” Gatling examines Sufi ethical norms, including those associated with the body, clothing, and ritual cleanliness. This external distinctiveness, which the author calls bodily nostalgia (153), is not just a reference to the past that emphasizes the asynchrony of the Sufi way; it also represents a Sufi's self-improvement work and shapes the Sufi way of being. The chapter discusses the special sociality created by such Sufi practices as lessons (dars) and conversations (suhbat), which involve pirs and Sufis in the complex exchange of expectations and obligations with the local communities.

Gatling's study is based on intensive participant observation, conversations with Sufis and pirs, and Sufi literature. This looks like an attempt to live into this small community and understand it from within. However, the author is explicit about the limitations of his efforts. His field involves only the capital city, Dushanbe, and the surrounding localities; it does not cover all the regions of Tajikistan. Besides, Sufi women and families were not included as informants. While Gatling's research is focused on the narratives and rituals, he has not systematically studied the social structure of Sufi communities, their internal hierarchy, or the relationships between Sufis and different pirs.

The most important limitation of the research, however, was the policy of the Tajik government. Gatling constantly points out how modern Sufism interacts with the authorities, being under their repressive and normative influence. This influence is associated with suspicion towards the asynchrony and alternative sociality of Sufi communities, and it forces the author to refrain from more detailed descriptions of specific communities, leaders, and followers. Instead, the researcher introduces certain generalized characters and visions, ultimately disrupting his communication with the field, as he states in the conclusion. Thus, the book serves as evidence to the rapidly changing situation, which leaves the future open both for Sufis who look back into the past and scholars who study them.