Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood is a graphic autobiography that follows Marji, a young girl in Iran, and her struggles in understanding herself and the world around her while it shifts through the Islamic Revolution. Prior to reading this book, I wasn't well versed in Iranian politics and the Islamic Revolution was little more than a term to me. But I decided not to research the revolution before reading because I knew that the book would be from a child's perspective. I wanted to better understand her perspective without being influenced by my own opinions or adult interpretations of the revolution.
While reading, I was surprised that much of the book centers around Marji's identity and her ideas of ‘heroes’. Although she was skeptical of her religion and what it preached (specifically what others said it preached), she decided that she wanted to be a prophet. Interestingly, she wanted to be a prophet because she wants to improve the lives of people around her, not primarily for any glory. Early in the book, we come to understand that Marji's idea of a hero centers around doing good for others.
A line within the first few pages fascinated me: “It was funny to see how much Marx and God looked like each other. Though Marx's hair was a little curlier” (Satrapi 13). At first, this line seems like an odd comparison, until you understand that Marji views both Karl Marx and God as mythical, all-knowing figures. You could also think of Marx as a standin for all intellectuals for her. Growing up in an upper-middle class household, critical thinking is a value that Marji internalized since a very early age. I think of my family as being very academic and open minded, but even I didn't know who Marx was until I was at least 11 or 12. Although Marji is still a child and likely cannot comprehend all of his ideas, she, at the very least, has an understanding of his work that many adults don't even have. So, although Marx may transcend Marji's ideas of a hero to become a Godlike figure, he still teaches us that, in a “hero”, Marji values someone who challenges the world around them.
It would be misleading to discuss Marji's idea of a “hero” without mentioning that becoming a martyr is a requirement. A hero doesn't necessarily have to die per se, but they do have to go through hardship. Marji idolizes her uncle because he not only believed in doing good for others and challenging institutions, but he went through hardship by standing up for his beliefs. Suffering is what cements one's status as a hero. I can't say for sure where this ideal specifically originated from — possibly from the Quran (but since I haven't read it, I can't say) — but the ideal was likely making a resurgence, since the nation was in the middle of a religious revolution. We can see this in action when Marji's father tells of seeing a protest carrying a man who they claimed was killed by the Shah. His widow, despite knowing that he actually died of cancer, joined the crowd upon learning that her husband would be recognized as a hero. Of course this is Marji's interpretation of the story so some details may be exaggerated, but it does establish cultural roots of her ideal.
It would also be absurd not to mention that the story is told through the perspective of a child. However the author, who is also the narrator, is an adult at the time of her writing the book, so providing minimal background information apart from the simplified, first-hand explanations from a young Marji was a conscious decision. You might ask why she would want to give us more information instead of less, but I would say this is an unfair characterization. Satrapi isn't giving us less information, she's giving us a different perspective. You may learn about the revolution in a history textbook or a Wikipedia article, where the larger picture is considered, but the book shows how the revolution and its consequences impacted everyday citizens.
Throughout the book, many portray this revolution as a struggle against Western influence in the Middle East, specifically in Iran. But Marji's father believes that “as long as there is oil in the Middle East, there will never be peace”, and consequently that the Middle East will never truly be free from the West. There was such a level of hatred against the West that the public turned to embracing a theocracy, one that isn't actually better for many citizens like Marji. The abolition of some level of freedom of speech and freedom of religion may only be a line in a history textbook, but we understand it much better through an actual citizen's perspective. But why use a child's perspective and not Satrapi's current perspective? An adult, who is more concerned with the large-scale geopolitical perspective like in a textbook, may not be able to use this perspective to its full potential.
Of course, both as a child and an adult, Marji isn't completely isolated from the big picture. You can't change your own past experiences or perspectives to fit this ideal of “relatability”. But this is where the other elements of the book are relevant. Of course the book is a graphic autobiography, but the ways that the format is utilized differently is telling. One may expect, and I for sure expected, that Persepolis would be similar to a comic book in many ways. I expected that it would be visually striking and full of color. It is visually striking, but for its very lack of color. Every frame is black and white, with not even gray being used. This contrast exemplifies shadows and creates a feeling like everyone is under a harsh light, like they are being watched by an outside light. This gave me a feeling of uneasiness throughout the book, especially when Marji's family acted against the increasingly authoritarian regime.
A comic book, like The Amazing Spider-Man, is also known for its great action scenes. While Persepolis does have striking frames of protests and war, that isn't the main focus of the book by any means. The pictures are meant to portray emotions and ideas rather than physical fighting. I would say the fear that's portrayed in this book is much more powerful than frames of violence in portraying the effects of the Islamic Revolution.
The book actually reminded me of the Hunger Games saga. The most compelling character in that series to me was that of President Coin, who is the leader of District 13, the district that leads the war effort against the Capitol. Coin is killed by Katniss at the end of Mockingjay, the final installment of the series, and I initially didn't understand why she does this. I couldn't comprehend that both sides could be “evil”. One of the factors that brings Katniss to shoot her with her bow at the end of the book is the knowledge that she killed Capitol children and other bystanders (including Katniss's sister Prim), pretending to be acting on behalf of President Snow, the leader of the Capitol. This is what makes the citizens of the Capitol finally turn against Snow, but it came at the cost of innocent lives. President Coin also planned to have a new Hunger Games that sacrificed Capitol children instead of District children, as revenge.
I think many people have the idea, using the American Revolution as an example, that revolutions necessarily make way to objectively better governments. But the Hunger Games showed me that this isn't always the case. President Coin was willing to do anything to remain in power, and she used all the same techniques as who she was fighting against. All that changed was who was in power.
Now I'm not saying that the new government after the Islamic Revolution was better or worse for the people of Iran. I genuinely cannot make that judgement from the little I know. But in Persepolis, not only were Marji's social freedoms limited, but the instability caused by the revolution resulted in a war that killed Marji's neighbors. I guess Iran now has a greater level of sovereignty and independence from the West, but the government appears not any better for the average Iranian.
In Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates writes candidly about what it is like to be a black man in Baltimore, and in America more generally. In addition to being a description of his life, it serves as advice to his son, Samori. As a white reader of the book, it gives a glimpse into the world of African-Americans who are struggling against systems designed by and for white people.
There seem to be at least two ideas of black identity in the book. First is the concept of black bodies and who controls them. Coates argues that many black people do not control their own bodies. He traces this lack of control back to slavery, which by definition is when a body is under the control of a slave owner. Even after slavery was abolished, other methods were used to control black bodies, including aspects of the judicial system. He seems to think of the history of African-Americans as an ever-lasting struggle against this control. His son, Samori, was named after Samori Touré, who “struggled against French colonizers for the right to his own black body” (Coates 68). To accentuate this tension, he capitalizes “The Struggle”.
Second is the concept of black thinking, which is mental rather than physical. Coates is inspired by prominent African-American thinkers such as Malcom X, who he often calls just “Malcom”. He looks up to these thinkers and is nurtured by their ideas and activism. This identity, according to Coates, is less constrained by white oppressive culture. He seeks to further his education, going to Howard University, in an effort to free himself from the constraints of lower class Baltimore. Coates is successful in this regard, transforming himself into a free thinker and writer. He is aware of the transformative value of Howard University, as evidenced by how he calls it “The Mecca”. As is widely known, Mecca is perhaps the most holy site in Islam and the site where all Muslims are meant to travel to on a religious pilgrimage at least once in their lifetimes. Although it isn't clear from the book whether Coates himself is a Muslim, the comparison to the Muslim holy site illustrates the high regard and unique value of this historically black college to Coates. At Howard, he finds like-minded young black students and enriches his mental identity.
The search for physical and mental identity reminded me of the narrative arc of the beginning of The Legend of Korra, a popular animated TV series. Unlike the people in the rest of the world, who can only bend — or manipulate — one element, Korra is the Avatar, who can bend all four elements (water, earth, fire, and air). At the start of the series, she has mastered three of four elements within a heavily guarded fortress meant to keep her safe. Korra relies on learning airbending from Master Tenzin, the only airbending master in the world, but Tenzin has other duties that prevent him from teaching her at the fortress. In this way, although Korra is one of the most powerful benders in the world, she is not in full control of her own body. Despite this, Korra goes to Republic City, a melting pot of all bending abilities unlike any in the world, where Tenzin resides. Korra ends up learning airbending with Tenzin, which at first glance may seem like an exercise of physical ability. However, airbending exercises Korra mentally and opens her to considering her identity of the Avatar in a different way — not as a master of fighting, but as a master of spirituality and philosophy.
This book also reminded me of the novel The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton. To see the comparison, one has to switch from the race struggle in Between the World and Me to the class struggle in The Outsiders. The central characters in the novel are the Greasers, who lack power due to their low socioeconomic status. In both cases, it is the desire for social justice that motivates the plot. There is death and tragedy in both books, and in each case, it is the people without power who are adversely and unfairly affected. Both Ta-Nehisi Coates and Ponyboy, the narrator of The Outsiders, struggle with how to live in a society where others have more power and control. They both want to avoid succumbing to anger and to escape, or at least come to terms with, their current situation intelligently. It is interesting that reflecting on deaths of friends in an unjust system leads them to similar conclusions.
Overall, there are multiple ways of interpreting Coates's ideas. On the surface, it is written as a book of advice to his son. It aims to educate and enculturate his son into his family and racial history and the larger African-American experience. I think Coates wants to protect his son from the harsh realities of racial inequality by rooting him in practical knowledge that Coates has picked up on the streets of Baltimore and the hallways of Howard University. On this interpretation, it is a one-way intergenerational exchange of values and perspectives. The ultimate, but perhaps subconscious, goal of the book, according to this interpretation, is for his son to avoid the fate of his friend Prince, who was unjustly killed by police. The hope is that preparation and mental freedom can overcome the physical bodily constraints and chains.
On a deeper level, Coates is talking to people like me, non-black, and specifically white, people who do not live the realities of being a black person in the United States. While sometimes the text is repetitive, perhaps this is by design. The use of repeating themes and thoughts is used to portray how black individuals cannot escape thinking about their black identities in a white dominated culture. Although it is difficult to judge how successful Coates is in preparing his son for the rigors of the world, I think it was more successful in educating white Americans. At least speaking for myself, I feel that I can begin to empathize with the struggles of his life and relatedly, better appreciate why many people are taking to the streets in the Black Lives Matter movement.