(Reprinted from the Chicago Center for Literature and Photography [cclapcenter.com]. I am the original author of this essay, as well as the owner of CCLaP; it is not being reprinted here illegally.)

The farther we progress into the early 2000s, the more convinced I am of how in the future, this period of history will be seen as one where Americans finally started more and more understanding the Middle East in the same semi-complex way they currently understand, say, Europe; because make no mistake, international readers, even though the last ten years have mostly been marked by our glee in blowing sh-t up over there, in private there are more and more Americans each day right now eagerly learning just a little more and a little more about what makes up daily life in the areas once defined by the Arabic, Persian, Ottoman and Moghul empires, with the generalities of such terms as "Farsi" and "Shia" (to cite two random examples) becoming more and more known among the general populace for the first time in US history. (And in fact this is ironically a regular occurrence in American history, for wars to be the catalyst behind our population starting to understand a certain region in a more sophisticated way; look for example at how little most Americans knew about far-east Asia until our involvement in such places as Japan, Korea and Vietnam in the second half of the 20th century, how such basics as Chinese food and karaoke are now sincere staples of American life, when just 50 years ago they seemed impossibly exotic to most.) And thus do we arrive at Marjane Satrapi's thought-provoking and highly entertaining graphic novel Persepolis, which has an interesting history: essentially a memoir of her youth as a loudmouthed, chain-smoking punk-rocker in the midst of Iran's oppressive Islamic Republic years, the story was originally published in the early 2000s as four underground comics in France (where Satrapi now lives); which then became a cult hit in the UK when first translated into English and gathered into two bound books; which then brought about the opportunity to make a popular experimental animated film out of it; which then became a surprise hit in the US and garnered an Oscar nomination; which has just recently finally prompted a one-volume English trade paperback version here, which has quickly in the last year become the book to mention here in America at hipster intellectual cocktail parties, half a decade since the same was true in the EU.

And there's a reason this has become such a huge cult hit in the US, because Satrapi here in Petropolis breaks the entire complicated sequence of events that have happened in Iran in the last thirty years down into a whole series of easily relatable Western-style stories, allowing us to understand the complex, surprisingly diverse population of that country in a way many of us never have before: from the ongoing controversy there among women themselves over "taking the veil" (think of American women debating the relative merits versus embarrassments of chick-lit), to how their decade-long war with Iraq's Saddam Hussein allowed religious conservatives to slowly take over all aspects of the government in the first place (think Bush and the Patriot Act), to the ingeniously subtle ways that rebellious youth display their independence in such an environment anyway (by letting a bit of hair slip out from underneath their veil, by wearing brightly colored socks, by participating in highly codified Austenesque nonverbal flirting sessions in public squares and school stairways). And by Satrapi having the courage to add the details of her own unique, sometimes trainwreck of a life -- her habit of falling in love with gay men, her stint as a homeless gutter-punk in Vienna in the late '80s -- the book never even threatens to devolve into afterschool-special liberal homilies, but instead stands strongly as a solid piece of personal yet political literature, a great example of how powerful graphic novels can be when they're at their best, and why your snotty little slacker friends are always encouraging you to read more of them. Given the events that are going on right this moment in Iran (summer 2009, for those reading this in the future), and how similar they now seem to be in so many Americans' eyes to our own peaceful overthrow of George Bush and his "Christian Taliban" ilk just a year before, now is a better time than ever to tackle Persepolis yourself if you never have; and needless to say, the movie as well is now in my queue over at Netflix, and I will be getting a review of it up here too after I've finally gotten a chance to watch it.

Out of 10: 9.7 ( )

A great finish to the story of Marjane as she is once again on her own and searching for her true self.

While the movie was so-so, in my opinion, mainly due to the subtitles, I thoroughly enjoyed the two books that make up the story of Persepolis. Sometimes I would read and even forget that this is a true story and not just a tale

I would highly suggest the complete Persepolis for anyone searching for a little history lesson along with an adventure because this certainly is a great story to hear.

After leaving home to go to school in Vienna at the end of Persepolis, Marjane moves from one home to another, all the while trying to fit in with classmates. Beginning when she was fourteen, she recounts rooming in a convent, her first love, and finally living on the streets before returning to Iran.

Her story of adolescence and young adulthood is heartbreaking. The theme of fitting in - or not - among others stands out throughout much of the story: too Western here, too Eastern there, and feeling separated because of the vast differences between experience of war or love or what have you. Though the particulars may not seem familiar, the universal themes are completely relatable. ( )

http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/6... ( )

http://nwhyte.livejournal.com/1185816...

I'm startled to see that it is four and a half years since I read (and greatly enjoyed) the first volume of Satrapi's autobiography. At the end of the previous book she had managed to get out of the Islamic Republic of Iran to Austria. Persepolis 2 falls into two halves: her Austrian experience, and then her return to Iran, at the end of which she emigrates again to France. In both Vienna and Tehran, she is in a relationship whose breakdown is a key factor in her decision to leave. But the narrative similarities between the two halves of the book actually help to contrast the huge differences between the two. In Vienna, she is an immigrant, sworn at by old men on buses, bereft of family links, ending up sleeping on the streets in the middle of winter. In Tehran she is spoiled by her experience of the outside world, picks fights with the religious authorities, has difficulty fitting back in. (In both cases, though this is not quite how she outs it, she struggles with substance abuse and depression.)

The story of the education of Marjane is told with detachment, and occasional amusement and shame at the actions of her younger self. As with the first volume, however, the real strength of the book is her depiction of life in the Islamic Republic of Iran, where few actually support the principles of the revolution, but all must pay lip service to it, and all women must obey the dress code. (She also answers a question I almost asked a few weeks back.) As an art student, she has the bizarre experience of trying to draw a fenale model whose body is completely covered; the girls solve this by modelling for each other at home. She successfully challenges the college to change the uniform for female students, and ends up designing it herself. Finally, at the end of the book, she and her husband embark on a grand project exploring Iranian culture and mythology; but in the end it turns out to be incompatible with the principles of the Islamic Revolution, and their marriage ends, and Marjane leaves for France.

It's all in black and white: on the surface there appear to be no shades of grey in Satrapi's world. But if you look closely you can see that they are there. ( )