I decided to make the most of my bank holiday Monday by lying in bed reading Persepolis directly followed by Persepolis 2 with a couple of Tofutti Cuties close at hand. The first of these remarkable autobiographic memoirs focuses on Satrapi’s childhood and the struggle of growing up during the Iranian Islamic Revolution. The overthrow of the Shah regime is one more personal to Satrapi as first thought given that her grand-father was the son of Nasreddine Shah – The last Qadjar emperor of Iran. Through stark black and white illustrations she offers an extremely thought provoking insight into the struggles of life with revolutionary Marxist parents versus growing Islamic fundamentalism. At only 14 she’d already experienced a great deal of war, political turmoil, dangerous protests, the imprisonment of friends parents, the execution of her uncle, stories of torture and battling Islamic moral codes such as the veil, sexual segregation and troubling social relations. As the fundamentalists gained more ground her parents cast Marjane abroad to Austria in order to escape the eminent Iran/Iraq war and to continue her studies at a French institution.

Persepolis 2: A Story of my Return picks up where Persepolis left off documenting Marjane’s growing discontent with her Iranian heritage and her struggle to make good the advice offered by her grand-mother. With her loss of identity and lack of familiar support groups Marjane struggled at school and found solace in drugs and consequently spent 3 months living on the streets. With no where left to turn she heads back to Iran and is forced once again to don the veil and re-adapt to life ruled by the Islamic police. As Marjane is reunited with old friends it becomes strikingly evident that the contrasts between ‘modern’ Iranian women and traditional fundamentalist can in many cases be few and far between. They asked her if she’d had sex in Europe and when Marjane explained about her boyfriend she never expected to be greeted by such a moral dilemma, ’so what is the difference between you and a whore?’ It’s one thing to wear make-up, exhibit hair and rebel against Islamic fundamentalism but obviously quite another to reject the importance of virginity in the sense of religious tradition. After a failed marriage Marjane moved to France realising that while her heart stays faithful to Iran she is incapable of being ruled by such strict moral codes. Worrying whether your veil is covering enough hair while out in the street, she explains leaves little room for freedom of thought.

An afternoon with Satrapi has taught me more about the experience of Iranian women and the Islamic revolution than an account similar to From my Sister’ Lips ever will. Her graphic style is so simple yet so effective and I can’t wait for her next offering, Chicken with Plums out in October.

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This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 2nd, 2006 at 3:07 pm and is filed under Iran, Reviews and tagged as books, marjane satrapi, persepolis. Print this blog post. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.