Persepolis I & II

“In every religion, you find the same extremists. Once again, I arrived at my usual conclusion: one must educate oneself.” ― Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. . #NadirasPointOfReview: What a kickstart to 2017! Three reading goals in one book: Memoir (my fave genre), Ethnic story by an ethnic writer (from and based in Iran), Graphic Novel (my very first!). Immensely loved this book. It's the story of the author and her childhood during the Islamic Revolution in Iran. Marjane then proceeds to escape to Vienna for a better life... only to return to Iran after 4 years... The book was released into 4 volumes. However, I bought The Complete Persepolis which had all of it together. I recommend to buy this one, instead of separate volumes. . Cons: The politics bit went above my head at times. The font maybe a lil tiny for some people. Author's viewpoints, Iran's internal policies DO NOT represent Islam. Islam is not an extreme religion. It's the fanatics and extremists who make it so. In a religion followed by 1 billion out of worlds' total 6 billion population...the extremists make up a small %. So plz dont judge it by its people. Judge it by its Quranic teachings. . Pros: The comic-strip adaptation was an excellent way of conveying this poignant story. Breezy page-turner. Perfectly suitable for readers like me with short attention span. Very humorous at times. Adorable yet perfect expressions in the graphics. Serious and sad story. Author fearlessly expresses her viewpoints without withholding anything back. 500 pgs full of words and prose sometimes fail to convey a story as well as 300pgs of comic strip can! I found tears rolling down my eyes at some points. Marjane's cool & supportive parents and grandparents are so lovable too. Very entertaining eye-opener. Highly recommend it! 5-stars. follow me on instagram @nadirasworld

very engaging

“The story of a Childhood and The story of a return” – the tagline sounds enticing and made me pick up the book to read. This is a semi-autobiographical novel that focuses on the authors’ personal journey giving an insight into the lives of people living in a war-torn country. Well-illustrated this book is deceptively simple which keeps the reader engrossed. When I picked up this book, I had no idea it would result in the churning of my thoughts. Little did I know that the whimsical drawings would be a moving account of a spirited young girl who grew up in revolutionary wartime Iran only to leave the country and then return. Laced with humour, it tends to camouflage the seriousness and rich complexity of the story. Funny and tragic, light-hearted yet intense – it is not preachy as one would expect it to be. The author has ably shown the contrasts that exist in a person’s life – tradition with modernism, Iranian to European. It paints an unforgettable portrait of daily life in Iran – it condenses a whole country’s tragedy into one poignant scene after another. A story of humour, compassion, and heartbreaks. No wonder it has been translated into 12 languages.

Amazing tale of an Iranian ex-royal family embroiled in politics of their land, as seen from a child's perspective. Not a comic, very graphic in a way though with quite many shades of humour. Great style of writing - Satrapi's picturization is sometimes as or more humorous than her words. Masterpiece work. Gives you a glimpse into the one of those lives amongst the many others on our planet, that people tend to group and generalize without sensitivity, into some not so great category & try to relegate them to some corner of their mind - & to their affairs & seemingly endless & frequent strifes they then sadly pay least attention to. Thus somewhere one may tend to forget how so human each of us are, across the world, despite all our seemingly endless differences & divergant lifestyles, cultures, experiences, tastes & opinions. As the gritty author writes in her preface itself, one can forgive but not forget - as lessons each of us learn is the lessons learnt by humanity. The book gave the sense yet again that the world history has an innate rhythm across the countries - seeming cycles like weak gaining strength & vice versa in the never ending loops we call life. Must read, friends - I will recommend it to anyone especially during the current age we live in where we need more understanding towards each other at least to prevent another self annihilation of humanity at the hands of humanity out of greed, hatred, differences et al

When you read this one, stop and pause for the grandmother's one real advice she gave the author when she was young. I am quite impressed with how the author presented so many events that happened in her life in just a little over 300 pages! However, my only issue is this: Damn the small fonts. It was a real struggle. Otherwise I like how well written and illustrated this memoir is. I don't have much to say about the political events mentioned or comment on the personal life of the author in the book. I just loved reading about the family bonding, especially between her and her mother, that between her and her father. I love the grandmother so much. Reading this memoir gave me some rare life lessons. Tips to read this graphic memoir: *Expect only black ink blunt illustrations/artstyle *Expect easy to get into writing *See the people in this as real and be more understanding towards them *Take your time to read it *If you are a beginner and cannot enjoy the book, close it and read it after a year or so. But read this graphic memoir once.

So many countries have had their share of war – both, internal and external war. Iran has certainly had their share of emporers, kings, and political oppression. In the introduction of this book, Satrapi gives us a brief two-page synopsis of Iran, its beginnings, its wars, and what happened in 1979 when the last Shah of Iran fled the Islamic revolution. And this is where the author begins her story. Satrapi was six when the revolution began. Her coming of age story begins when she was aged ten. She was an intelligent child from an upper-middle class family who wanted to understand why her world as she knew it, was turned upside by revolution. Satrapi shares with us about all the changes that took place in her country during the revolution, and the year it became mandatory to ‘wear the veil’. She hated it. She could no longer go to school with a mix of boys and girls either. Her privileged and modern life as she knew it, was no longer. Marjane was an only child, and a deeply spiritual girl. In her very young life, she thought she wanted to grow up to be a prophet, but as her world was changing, this would no longer be possible. At a very young age, she began reading books on empires and autocratic world leaders. She wanted to understand why the demonstrations in her country were so violent, horrible crimes against humanity. Marjane repeatedly asked her parents if she could join them in the daily protests they attended on the street from morning till night, but they wouldn’t allow her to participate. She was tired of protesting alone in her own backyard. But her father told her they could get shot at a demonstration, and refused to bring her along. But Marjane believed that if a revolution was to succeed, the entire population should support it. The revolution was a fight against social classes. Politics overwhelmed Marja. She was tired of the people in her life ‘disappearing’, and she was tired of same answers from her parents – ‘they went on a trip’. When her Uncle Anoosh reappeared after fleeing political persecution, he told Marja, “In a country where half the population is illiterate, you cannot unite the people around Marx, the only thing that can really unite them is Nationalism or a religious ethic . . . but the religious leaders didn’t know how to govern,” he called it a fake election takeover – many fled Iran while others thought it wouldn’t last. Uncle Anoosh was found and executed. And Marja became angry with God. The bombings began and the fundamentalists took down the U.S. Embassy – no longer viable to get a visa to flee. The universities closed for two years in order to rewrite new religious curriculum. The middle and upper class feared they’d be forced to wear the veil and perhaps ‘no more cars, back to camels’. Marja found her young world crashing as she feared she wouldn’t get to go to university and become a scholar. Marja’s parents protested daily, and her mother was threatened for refusing to wear the veil or acknowledging the new fundamentalist government – she ultimately succumbed. It was declared that ‘to protect women from all potential rapists’, they declared wearing the veil was mandatory. There became two types of women and two types of men – the fundamentalists and the modern man/woman. Apparently, the modern woman no longer had a choice but to wear the veil, but in protest, they allowed some of their hair to stick out. To distinguish the two types of men – fundamentalists didn’t shave and grew long beards, and didn’tuck their shirts in, vs. the clean shaven men (mustaches optional) who tucked in their shirts and wore neck ties – a fashion from ‘the west’, frowned upon. New Islamic religion stated that women’s hair ’emanates rays that excite men’. It sure feels to me that women had to tone down their looks so as not to excite men. So sad. It doesn’t surprise me how many Iranians fled the revolution. Marja tells us that not just the government changed, but many of the people she knew. Marja was told by her parents that if anyone asks, she prays five times a day. Her mother was a staunch fighter for women’s rights. One year after the protests began, Marja’s parents brought her to one, and Marja shares the violence she witnessed that one and only day she went to protest. And when they began beating women with bats because they weren’t wearing the veil, Marja and her parents scurried home. In September 1980, Marja’s parents took her on a three-week vacation to Europe, they came back to another war, with Iraq – that was on top of the already civil war going on in Iran. When the Iraqis began dropping bombs in Tehran, Marja writes, “The Arabs never liked the Persians . . . they attacked us 1400 years ago, they forced their religion on us.” Her father concurred, but added that the real invasion had already come from their own government. Everything was changing daily as war was both internal and external in Iran. Their Iranian National Anthem was replaced by the new government’s hymn. Marja’s father had given up on listening to news in Iran that he knew was lies. He’d tune in nightly to his old radio and listen to the BBC. Once border town oil refineries were bombed, village people fled to the main city of Tehran, food shortages began in supermarkets, and gas was limited. Marja had to get used to new school protocols, like beating her chest to war cries on the loudspeaker, and celebrating Revolution Day. Her parents along with many others rebelled the teachers. There were strict rules about wearing the veil with NO hair showing – to that statement, and some comic relief, Marja’s dad responded to that teacher, “If hair is as stimulating as you say, then you need to shave your mustache.” The young boys were handed out golden keys in school, and told if they went to war and died, the key would get them into heaven and they’d be offered a better life in paradise. As young as fourteen years old, they were lured to war. Soon enough, the family had to keep dark drapes drawn, and had to bomb-proof their house. The enemy was anywhere and everywhere among their own as citizens were swayed to the fundamentalist’s side, devoted to the new regime. There were strict rules: no parties, no card games, no gambling, no alcohol, and of course, the dress code. And one never knew if their neighbor had flipped and become an extremist who would happily rat out anyone disobeying. Marja tells us about one night in particular when her family was out at a newborn baby celebration, with alcohol, and they were stopped on the way home by extremist police spot-check. They smelled the alcohol on her father’s breath and saw he wore a necktie. He was told to get back in the car and they would follow him home to search his house for alcohol, but that one time they were lucky that money still talked and Marja’s dad bought them off. The persecutions got worse in Iran as the wars progressed. Besides wearing the veil in school, no nail polish or jewelry was permitted either. But food was becoming more available from the black markets – if you had the money. Marja shares another scary story with us. She tells about the day she went out wearing her new American Nike shoes and a Michael Jackson badge she wore on her jacket. These were items no longer available in Iran, but her parents had taken a short trip to Turkey and bought some items for her that Iran saw as Western apparel. There was now a new extreme women’s branch called, The Guardians of the Revolution. Marja was stopped on the street by some of those women, they told her ‘decadence is forbidden’. Marja considered that her lucky day when she was let off with a warning instead of being taken to headquarters where ‘people have been known to disappear for days’. At fourteen years old, Marja was wise beyond her years and a self-proclaimed rebel. If she chose to wear jewelry, the teachers would take it off her, never to be returned. And one day, Marja lost her constraint – the day the principal tried to take her bracelet from her, Marja whacked her so hard, she fell. Marja was expelled. Through connections, her parents got her into another school. But that didn’t last long before Marja called out the teacher for her lies. At that point, Marja’s parents arranged to have her sent to school in Austria, where they had relatives. They were petrified that their daughter’s brevity would land her in jail or killed. Her parents told Marja they would follow in a few months. But would they? With breaking hearts, her parents took Marja to the airport so that she could live in freedom and get the education she deserved, and to allow her to be the child she needed to be. I shall look forward to reading the second book, Persepolis 2, where Marjane returns to Iran as a young adult after fleeing the oppression.

Good quality and fast delivery

Good book

Un modo leggero di raccontare eventi impegnativi

Good read