Persepolis: Black and White

The artwork -- no shades of grey; ever graphic rendered was in black and white. This was a cue to an underlying theme during the years of the revolution in Iran: things were simply black and white. In other words, citizens were either with the religious revolution or considered enemies of the state. The artwork was simple, and reminded me of the simplicity of the artwork of children and young adults.

Seeing the days leading up to the overthrow of the Shah through a young girl's eyes reminded me of global or local events that we see on a daily basis. So much of what we see is fed to us by various media, some of it controlled by agencies (government or private). These images and news are given to the populace through a lens manufactured by adults. Seeing the 70s and 80s through a youthful lens reminded me that there are many ways to view a situation.

I remember the overthrow of the Shah and the eventual takeover and hostage situation at the U.S. embassy during President Carter's term. Images broadcast through the U.S. were of violent, out-of-control religious fanatics. We were not given other images of people, children, or families who were trying to maintain day-to-day lives during this turmoil. Given that this was long before access to global news or the internet, many in this country believed what we were fed.

Our perceptions were skewed; many of our citizens adopted a "bomb them back to the stone age" mentality.

Marjane Satrapi's story prompted me to think of friends I have who have emigrated here, specifically, a friend who comes from the area that was known as South Vietnam. In talking with her about the war, she told me that in Vietnam, it is referred to as the "American War." We call it the "Vietnam War" here. Funny how both terms refer to the same occupation, but can evoke different feelings.

Back to Satrapi's story....

Marjane was fortunate in that she was born to a family that had some pretty deep roots into the history of Persia/Iran. Her parents were liberal for the times, giving her more food for thought than many of her contemporaries had. Her voice came through the stories she shared with authority, clarity, emotion, and more than clearly showed that what we see on the news of any conflict does not reveal how any country's conflict affects children and families.

Her experiences, in my mind, gave her absolute license to speak from a position of authority. Isn't that the bottom line of any memoir? Someone shares her story, her truth, and we are left to judge whether those lived experiences ring with a degree of validity. With the information Marjane shares, underpinned with the historical context that I remember, I moved through the chapters of the revolution knowing that I was participating in life experiences that left no doubt they were true. When one folds in the intensity of how children view/experience/internalize events, their ability to see things free of the baggage adults have, the simple way children can cut through to the truth, it adds to the depth of truth in Marjane's memoir.

I saw the give and pull with her parents educating her on their politics, her family's political and Marxist views, against the religious politics of the post-Shah regime. Her conversations with God were direct, simple, and full of the hope and worry young children have. The events that led her to decide she no longer needed her access to God reminded me that, again, spiritual beliefs sometimes are not black-and-white but have a grey area. Sometimes we need to leave the black-and-white either/or of a belief system to investigate that grey area of beliefs. How confusing for Marjane to negotiate living a normal pre-teen life with new rules and restrictions on former freedoms, trying to live how she was raised in a new society where every movement could be called into question. The confusion was palpable; the anger real.

The end of the book put me on edge -- there she is, at the airport windows after saying goodbye to her parents. Her father is carrying her mother, who appears to have fainted. The stress and heartbreak of saying goodbye was not lost on me -- will they see each other again?

One other thought -- Elmaz had shared a link on this book series being banned because of the violence. I have not yet cracked into the second volume, but based on my reading of the first book, I could really find no basis for this particular volume being bannable due to violence. Given that we are exposed to real and pretend violence every single day through a variety of media, what we are barraged with is far more violent and provocative than the renderings Satrapi presents.