Persepolis

“I really didn’t know what to think of the veil. Deep down I was very religious but as a family we were very modern and avant-garde. I was born with religion. At the age of six I was already sure I was the last prophet. This was a few years before the revolution. Before me there had been a few others […] I wanted to be a prophet because our maid did not eat with us. Because my father had a Cadillac. And, above all, because my grandmother’s knees always ached.”

Satrapi describes the tension she feels in her home life versus her school life. Her educated and Westernized family is out of place in post-revolution Iran. Satrapi is six years old but can still sense larger societal forces at work, such as differences in social class, even though she cannot fully explain them or understand why they exist. This demonstrates just how young and innocent she is at the beginning of the book.

“It was funny to see how much Marx and God looked like each other. Though Marx’s hair was a bit curlier.”

This comment made by young Satrapi provides both levity and a sense of her naïveté. The textual and pictorial daydreams featuring Marx and God also illustrate how Satrapi grappled with large, complicated subjects as a child—in particular, Putting One’s Faith in Religion or Political Ideology, which she here associates with one another.

“You know, my child, since the dawn of time, dynasties have succeeded each other but the kings always kept their promises. The shah kept none; I remember the day he was crowned. He said: ‘I am the light of the Aryans. I will make this country the most modern of all time. Our people will regain their splendor.’ He even went to the grave of Cyrus the Great, who ruled over the ancient world […] All of the country’s money went into ridiculous celebrations of the 2500 years of dynasty and other frivolities…all of this to impress heads of state; the population couldn’t have cared less. […] I bought you some books. You will see why the people are revolting.’”

This quotation from Satrapi’s grandmother gives the reader specific context to remind them why this moment stands out in the context of Persian history. Satrapi mentions some of this history in her introduction, but including how she learns about Iranian history from her family members gives readers a better sense of this history’s significance. This is especially important considering Satrapi’s family’s relationship to the shah, royalty, and the current regime.

“Something escaped me. Cadaver, cancer, death, murderer. Laughter? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! I realized then that I didn’t understand anything. I read all the books I could.”

Despite her young age, Satrapi believes she understands the world of adults; however, when she is confronted by very dark humor about the revolution, she realizes she does not understand the joke. She reads more books to try and understand what the adults know that she does not. This is another example of her extreme innocence, as well as her desire to educate herself and become a part of the adult world.

“When I went back to [Mehri’s] room she was crying. We were not in the same social class but at least we were in the same bed.”

Of all the social differences Satrapi wishes to better understand, class is one of the most difficult concepts to reconcile. Her relationship with Mehri, a servant in their home, reveals the gap between her privileged life and the lives of those who are less privileged. Satrapi, who merely wishes to help her friend, does not realize the implications of writing letters on Mehri’s behalf, which again exemplifies her innocence. By climbing into bed with Mehri, she acknowledges that even if she is unable to fully understand Mehri’s life, she recognizes Mehri is a human being with a broken heart.

“We had demonstrated on the very day we shouldn’t have: ‘Black Friday.’ That day there were so many killed in one of the neighborhoods that a rumor spread that Israeli soldiers were responsible for the slaughter. But in fact it was really our own who had attacked us.”

In this passage, Satrapi’s adult voice peeks through—particularly in the last sentence—bringing a perspective that is more mature and implicitly connects what is happening in the revolution to what is happening at home. She says that “it was really our own who had attacked us” both because Iranians instigated Black Friday against their own people and because she and Mehri were smacked by her mother. However, while being hit by her mother was scary, it was far less scary than the prospect of being murdered at a demonstration. This is one of several moments when Satrapi’s story both dovetails and contrasts with Iran’s, developing the theme of Coming of Age During Revolution, Civil Unrest, and War.

“Anyway it is not for you and me to do justice. I’d even say we have to learn to forgive.”

Satrapi’s mother tries to teach her daughter this lesson when she encounters peers at school whose parents have different beliefs from her own. When she tells this to Satrapi, it is to help Satrapi distinguish not only right from wrong but what she can control from what she cannot. This lesson follows her throughout the book as she deals with increasing levels of government oppression.

“I tell you all this because it’s important that you know. Our family memory must not be lost. Even if it’s not easy for you, even if you do not understand it all.”

This quotation by Uncle Anoosh is at the heart of the book: It spells out Satrapi’s motivation for telling her story. He tells Satrapi these stories about his experiences, as well as the experiences of her entire family, to make sure she will pass on the stories to the next generation. Persian history has been influenced by several cultures over time, but by holding on to the narratives of her family, Satrapi preserves their part in Iran’s history.

“And so I was lost, without any bearings…what could be worse than that? ‘Marji, run to the basement! We’re being bombed!’ It was the beginning of the war.”

This is a pivotal moment in the book where Satrapi realizes not only that her uncle has been executed but that Iran is now at war with Iraq. She places this quotation next to a large, expansive panel where she is floating as a small body in space to make it clear how lost and alone she feels. Uncle Anoosh was her hero because of both his work and his stories; his death symbolizes the end of an era and the end of the Iran Satrapi thought she knew. This is her biggest loss of innocence at this point in the book, and it proves to be pivotal as the war continues.

“Two guys…two bearded guys…two fundamentalist bastards…the bastards….the bastards…they…they insulted me. […] They said I should be pushed up against a wall and fucked. And then thrown in the garbage…and that if I didn’t want that to happen, I should wear the veil…”

Satrapi’s mother says this after she is assaulted when her car breaks down. She is terrified by the incident; her attack signifies the rise of Islamic fundamentalists. The event also foreshadows the dangerous situations Satrapi encounters when she grows older and is confronted by the Guardians of the Revolution.

“In no time, the way people dressed became an ideological sign. There were two kinds of women. The Fundamentalist Woman. The Modern Woman. You showed your opposition to the regime by letting a few strands of hair show. There were also two sorts of men. The Fundamentalist Man. The Progressive Man.”

Satrapi pairs this text with side-by-side images of men and women in “modern” versus “fundamentalist” clothing to highlight how restricted fashion became post-revolution. For Satrapi and her mother, the transition to the veil is incredibly restrictive and in many ways completely against what they fought for during the revolution. By seeing the differences side-by-side, the reader can visualize the drastic change.

“‘We have to bomb Baghdad!’ ‘Take your feet off the table, it’s impolite.’”

Once again, Satrapi juxtaposes moments of levity and everyday concerns with the war’s progression, highlighting Joy in Wartime. Even though Iran is about to enter into a war with Iraq, Satrapi’s parents are still concerned that she have good manners and respect their house. By placing moments like these adjacent to war news, Satrapi reminds the reader that even during wartime, everyday people and families are still trying to live their lives normally.

“To have the Iraqis, and to lose in an instant everything you had built over a lifetime, that’s one thing…but to be spat upon by your own kind, it is intolerable!”

The Islamic regime created divided public opinion, leading many Iranians to attack their own people. Satrapi begins to show this splintering of Iranian identity—those who align with the Islamic fundamentalist regime and those who do not. By looking down on refugees, Islamic fundamentalists pit themselves against their fellow citizens. This is the antithesis of the revolutionary spirit, which was meant to celebrate all of Iran’s people. Here, Satrapi begins to realize the revolution has gone astray.

“Our country has always known war and martyrs. So, like my father said: ‘When a big wave comes, lower your head and let it pass!’ That’s very Persian. The philosophy of resignation. I agreed with my mother. I too tried to think only of life. However, it was not always easy. At school, they lined us up twice a day to mourn the war dead. They put on funeral marches and we had to beat our breasts.”

Satrapi reflects on her mother’s Persian “philosophy of resignation” to understand why so many Iranians continue with their everyday life as though nothing is happening. The sharp contrast between her new school life and her old school life, and the insistence on mourning the war dead, feels terrifying. She is illustrated as lost in the crowd of classmates as she beats her breasts. By drawing herself this way after her mother tells her to “lower [her] head” (94), Satrapi suggests her efforts to go along to get along.

“Every situation offered an opportunity for laughs: like when we had to knit winter hoods for the soldiers […] or when we had to decorate the classroom for the anniversary of the revolution […] we were completely united.”

Satrapi becomes rebellious as she grows older, and she is not alone in poking fun at the fundamentalist regime at school. Because she and her peers grew up knowing secular education, they have fun pulling pranks and being silly. This passage is also another reminder of Satrapi’s age—despite all that has happened around her, she is still quite young and mischievous in an otherwise tense school environment.

“The key to paradise was for poor people. Thousands of young kids, promised a better life, exploded on the minefields with their keys around their necks. Mrs. Nasrine’s sons managed to avoid that fate, but lots of other kids from his neighborhood didn’t. 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. I was looking sharp.”

Again, Satrapi takes advantage of the graphic memoir’s capacity for visual comparison by putting a large image of young, poor boys being blown up on the battlefield right next to a picture of her dancing and jumping alongside her friends at a party. The disparity between these two images emphasizes how different her experience as an Iranian youth was from her impoverished peers. She was allowed the space for decadence and punk rock and parties, while younger, poorer boys were encouraged to become martyrs for their country. Even with all of her political and philosophical knowledge, Satrapi is unable to see in that moment just how different her life is from those of other students; however, her adult voice makes clear just how big the divide truly was.

“In spite of all the dangers, the parties went on. ‘Without them it wouldn’t be psychologically bearable,’ some said. ‘Without parties, we might as well just bury ourselves now,’ added the others. My uncle invited us to his house to celebrate the birth of my cousin. Everyone was there. Even Grandma was dancing.”

In addition to their involvement in demonstrations and resistance efforts, Satrapi’s family also resists the Islamic regime by throwing parties. Dancing, alcohol, and music are not allowed, but by giving themselves space to dance, they feel alive. Satrapi highlights these moments as a part of her mission to call attention to Iranian culture outside of fundamentalism.

“The walls were suddenly covered with belligerent slogans. The one that struck me most by its gory imagery was: ‘To die a martyr is to inject blood into the veins of society.’”

As Satrapi ages, she mentions this slogan several times. The image of a person’s blood injected into society is both disturbing and evocative of what the Islamic regime asked the young people of Iran to sacrifice. Satrapi returns to this image when she loses her neighbor and learns of more deaths during the war with Iraq.

“All that window washer had to do to become director of the hospital was to grow a beard and put on a suit! The fate of my husband depends on a window washer! Now he’s so religious he will not look a woman in the eye. The pathetic fool!”

This quotation is an example of the Islamic regime’s changes to Iranian institutions: Someone far “below” Satrapi’s aunt and uncle in terms of class status is now in charge of the hospital and ultimately will help determine his fate. Their outrage is ironic considering the family’s communist leanings and their desire to see real change among the social classes.

“When we walked past the Baba-Levy’s house, which was completely destroyed, I could feel that she was discreetly pulling me away. Something told me that the Baba-Levys had been at home. Something caught my attention. I saw a turquoise bracelet. It was Neda’s. Her aunt had given it to her for her fourteenth birthday…The bracelet was still attached to…I don’t know what…No scream in the world could have relieved my suffering and my anger.”

This event—the climax of the story—is the ultimate loss of innocence for Satrapi. When a girl Satrapi’s age is crushed beneath her own house, it becomes clear Satrapi’s life is truly in danger if she stays in Tehran. The disruption this event causes is underscored by the more jagged, shaded illustration style in some of the last panels in the chapter. This break with the typical artistic style asks readers to both see and hear the shift in Satrapi’s voice.

“You know what they do to the young girls they arrest? You know what happened to Niloufar? The girl you met at Khosro’s house? The man who made passports? You know that it’s against the law to kill a virgin…so a guardian of the revolution marries her…and takes her virginity before executing her. Do you understand what that means??? If someone so much as touches a hair on your head, I’ll kill him!”

Terrified, Satrapi’s mother spells out exactly what will happen to Satrapi if she is arrested by the regime. Here, the reader is confronted by the reality that if Satrapi stays in Tehran, she will be in danger. The reader and Satrapi simultaneously how severe the situation is, but they also realize just how deep Satrapi’s mother’s love is for her.

“‘But I’m only fourteen! You trust me?’ ‘You’re fourteen and I know how I brought you up. Above all, I trust your education.’”

This quotation is from an exchange between Satrapi and her parents when they inform her that they want to send her to school in Austria. Both parents are highly educated and place their faith not only in their daughter but in the power of education to help her make good decisions. Although this is a way out of danger for Satrapi, the act itself is innately dangerous. Even though she has been rebellious and wants to be independent, Satrapi realizes what a life-changing decision this is.

“I watched my grandma undress. Each morning, she picked jasmine flowers to put in her bra so that she would smell nice. When she undressed, you could see flowers fall from her breasts. It was something to see […] I smelled my grandma’s bosom. It smelled good. I’ll never forget that smell.”

This dreamy sequence is particularly vivid because it includes the scent of Satrapi’s grandmother’s jasmine. Smell is the sense most closely aligned with memory, and by both illustrating and describing the scent, Satrapi draws the reader into the bittersweet scene. This final night in her home is, in many ways, the last day of her childhood, and she uses tender language and imagery to highlight how conflicted she feels about leaving her grandmother behind.