The intelligent and outspoken child of radical Marxists, and the great-granddaughter of Iran’s last emperor, Satrapi bears witness to a childhood uniquely entwined with the history of her country. Persepolis paints an unforgettable portrait of daily life in Iran and of the bewildering contradictions between home life and public life. This is a beautiful and intimate story full of tragedy and humour – raw, honest and incredibly illuminating.
Part autobiography, part commentary on Iran’s recent history, Satrapi’s beautifully drawn graphic novel is by turns fascinating and moving. Born to radical Marxists, she spent her childhood learning to speak her mind and think critically and like millions of others was overjoyed by the fall of the Shah and his oppressive regime – one that brought personal tragedy to her family. However the Islamic regime’s early promises of modernity and religious democracy quickly peter out as the authorities adopt and then brutally enforce strict edicts of dress and behaviour.
As Satrapi grows up, the regime gets worse and enters into a devastating war with Iraq. At the same time, she begins to learn about her family and herself through her reactions to the world that she lives in and as her own rebelliousness increases, she is sent to school in Vienna for her own safety, only to find herself an outsider and the victim of racism. Her isolation increases when she returns home and at the same time, her feelings about her homeland become confused and contradictory. The final third of the book shows her attempts to reconcile those feelings.
While the story may sound bleak there is in a fact a large amount of humour within it. In particular, Satrapi’s experiences with her friends and her challenges of the regime are sharp and believable and a scene where she suggests that men who feel her clothing is too tight stop looking at her ass made me laugh out loud. While there are some harrowing scenes, e.g. when Satrapi is reunited with a friend who has been maimed in the Iran-Iraq war, some are a little too tinged with sentimentality to be completely believable, e.g. when another friend’s house is bombed, Satrapi suggests that she knew her friend was dead by the bracelet left visible in the rubble. There is also a sense in which Satrapi’s experiences in Vienna – notably her period of homelessness – have been glossed over.
The art is beautiful and Satrapi does a wonderful job of portraying what life was and is like in Iran that challenges popular conceptions. While it is not perfect, it is a remarkable book and one that deserves its success.
The Verdict:
Satrapi’s graphic novel is a sensitive, often witty and beautifully drawn account not only of her life, but also of life in Iran. It’s not without its problems – notably a tendency to sentimentality – but it’s still well worth a look.
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