Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood (Pantheon Graphic Library)

Great quality book, with very detailed comic style pictures. It's a great book to read with very powerful themes and topics, that gives a wide range of perspectives and ideas for English A-Level.

Publisher: vintage books Genre: autobiography/graphic ISBN: 978-0-099-52399-4 This book is written as a storyboard and the style suits it perfectly. I have never read a book written using this method but I found it to be a very enjoyable experience. For this particular book it works extremely well as it carries the volume of dialogue, if this had been written in straight prose it would have resembled a play rather than a novel. Marjanes general writing style is warm and inviting. As she narrates her story you can hear her voice and it brings the action to life. She captures the horrors of war and the difficulties of love in a style which makes all the subjects in this book seem very real to the reader. I have never been to Iran but I could connect with Satrapi and understood he point of view because it was explained so well and so easily. This book gave me a totally new perspective of muslim women and what they may have been thinking while living under oppressive regimes. Young Iranian girls are not so different to European girls once stripped down to just their thoughts and emotions. A very cleverly written book on a subject which I normally would not read, excellent. Personal read 5/5 Group read 4/5 Plenty to discuss but not everybody's choice of subject.

"Persepolis" by Marjane Satrapi, is a personal and historical graphic novel of a time in Iran, a country which was called Persia for thousands of years; revealing the events from a clever child and then a young woman's point of view, as she grows up with the political situation expanding and evolving, & she was sophisticated beyond her years because of the good education, and also because of her families' multi involvement and input, experienced by so many of her family. It is a brilliant novel because of the multi-faceted approach, revealing the whole story of Iran in the 20th century and the upheavals and horror of political fundamentalist power and complete suppression and control on members of the whole family, but at first seen through the eyes of a child with her own childish ego, as she want to put the whole world to rights as a prophet: something that many a clever child of imagination has dreamed of doing- "putting the world of stupid adults to rights", suffering mentally and physically under this power, and eventually growing up and learning to live with things as they are, until they gradually change again.

Great narrative about an Iranian girl through the turbulent years of the Islamic revolution from the mid-1970’s and the war with Iraq. I must say I loved it. However I initially bought it for our literature-devoted daughter who collects books and more recently has developed an interest in graphic novels of which she is building a small precious library as well. The challenge with her new interest is that there are not that that many graphic novels for people of her age that are of high quality and that are engaging. I thought Persepolis was an interesting modern history topic about social events that would open up a new world to her about. However she seemed quite dismissive about the book given that it lay around, untouched for months. Turned out she didn’t think much of the scribbly, childish style of art in black and white, printed on cheap paper. Which I can understand. I then started to read it to her, providing explanation, giving additional background information and answering her questions. This turned out to be really good fun and lead to valuable little debates. The book is somewhat witty and funny, but the narrative is very impressive and bound to leave an impression. The whole presentation can’t match some of the other hard-cover super beautifully illustrated graphic novels we have, but it certainly stands out as a story.

I suppose that of the many praising words written for this book, which deserves them all, very little has been said about the beneficial effect it can have on a reluctant-to-read grumpy teenager. I had personally read it years ago and I cannot praise it enough, a daring genius important novel!!! But i bought it again in my pursue to convince my daughter to read (she had stopped all of a sudden months ago) and it worked wonders. She was totally taken by the very clever story telling and the deeply emotional history scenario. As a young woman she felt connected and touched by the female protagonists and their struggle. She has not stopped reading other books since, similar format or subject. Thank you Mrs. Satrapi for having helped a young lady to reconnect with a reality which is not filtered by utube/instagram/facebook viewers, but much vaster and more profound.

This is a stupendous book. I was recommended it by a friend who knew of my interest in black and white sequential art and it blew me away. Its deceptively simply drawn and scripted panels are the autobiography of an Iranian woman whose story imparts far more about life in and the history of Iran than I already knew. This poignant, tragic and frequently funny book could - and should- be read by everyone from a teenager to a mature reader. Highly recommended.

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