Satrapi's Crowds

Reading this book, I was mesmerized by Satrapi’s use of adult, reflective voice in the text boxes and present tense, child’s voice in the dialogue boxes. I also appreciated her ability to tell (a) history of the Middle East and Iran through one family and one girl’s experience. This is one definition of memoir and she finesses it beautifully. 

I was struck by the use of black throughout the book; it reminded me of woodblock prints. Although surrounded by crowds (more on that below) Satrapi depicts herself as alone and lonely much of the time and the black ink adds to this feeling, like being stuck in a cavern or a holding cell, a place without light, without an exit. 

 

I was also saddened that Persopolis made so many predictive parallels between the Iranian/Iraq War and the U.S./Iraq and U.S/Afghanistan wars. This is most clear on page 253. Satrapi’s dad: “This entire war was just a big set up to destroy both the Iranian and the Iraqi armies. The former was the most powerful in the Middle East in 1980, and the latter represented a real danger to Israel. The West sold weapons to both camps and we, we were stupid enough to enter into this cynical game…eight years of war for nothing!” My copy of this book combines the two Persepolis’. I assume this part was Persepolis 2, published in 2002 and 2003. The Iraq War #2 hadn’t started yet, but 9/11 had happened, so I imagine she was referencing the increase in U.S. militarism in the Middle East that was occurring (not to mention ongoing U.S. domination that is omnipresent.) 

I am most interested in Satrapi’s use of crowds. Her use of crowds (pages 96, 97, 98, 102, 103, 104, 114, 116, 228, 254, 256, 304, 305, and 323 to name a few) illustrate things as disparate as religious school, parties, war, rebellions, protests, and executions. This juxtaposition is pitch perfect on page 102 where on the top panel Satrapi shows silhouettes of young people from Mrs. Nasrine’s poor neighborhood flailing through the sky with the golden keys around their necks. On the bottom panel, Satrapi says, “Meanwhile, I got to go to my first party. Not only did my mom let me go, she also knitted me a sweater full of holes and made me a necklace with chains and nails. Punk rock was in.” The kids dancing around at the party are flailing too, but they have smiles on their faces. At the bottom of the panel, Satrapi says: “I was looking sharp.” Her fashion statement was alluding to violence while other kids were being hurt with shrapnel and bullets. Satrapi’s choice to put these to images together acknowledges the class privilege that she had in her country. 

The crowds in Satrapi’s mind haunt her (pages 116, 117, 254, 256, 323). By getting them on the page, she acknowledges they existed and that in many cases they died for her freedom.

What I identify as the emotional arc of the book, is a crowd-based moment. On page 256, her dad is telling her the detainees who were executed because they would not renounce their beliefs. The whole frame is taken up by a large mound of blindfolded, wailing bodies. I counted, there are at least 47. The bottom of the panel has a tiny head of her dad saying, “And, well, most of them were executed.” On the next page Satrapi asks her dad, “How many did they kill?” and he responds, “No one knows exactly. Many thousands, or rather, many tens of thousands of people.” 

The next panel has no text and shows Satrapi covering her face with her hands, weeping, or breathing.

By drawing these martyrs on the page, she gives them a burial that they were denied, and perhaps she lays them to rest in her mind.