I’ll be honest. When I first picked up Persepolis I was expecting to be hurled into an alternate reality I had never before experienced. I was expecting a journey in which I would unearth the secrets of how life would be like growing up in Iran. However, this is not what I received. Not exactly at least. And this is, in my opinion, what gives this book so much power.
Obviously the whole point of the book is to show the revolution in Iran in a way that us ignorant westerners can understand. This is a tall task. However, author Marjan Satrapi is up to it. And in fact, not only does she succeed in shedding light on the revolution in a way that westerners can understand. But instead she successfully bridges the gap between two cultures which on the surface may seem extremely different.
And yes, I understand that this is partially due to the reason that Satrapi was fairly wealthy. She being of that status, at least to begin her life, may have had more similarities to those of us in western cultures. However, this does not detract from the fact that through her writing finesse she is able to erase the boundaries between readers and is able to then tell the story of her life.
She is able to do this through focusing on the general. Satrapi, in her book is able to focus on aspects of childhood, of innocence. Traits that are not race-specific but rather traits of the human race. And through this perception of innocence she is able to convey her feelings for her country in a way which seems natural to us. Sure, pretending to be Fidel Castro may seem messed up in our eyes. But when she tells of her dreams of dictatorship, it feels strangely natural.
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