Persepolis, A Biting Coming-of-Age Story that Never Loses Itself to Capturing the Difficulties of So Much of the Human Experience 

Persepolis a work that could really broken down to three parts: Her growing up in Iran, her growing up later in Austria, her life after becoming an adult and returning to Iran, and the Islamic Revolution’s beginning and end. Through Persepolis, we see these stages of her life expressed with a level of charisma, quick wit, personality to really hook you in every page followed with intense and thrilling ride you sometimes miss out on in autobiographies.

Possibly the most genius, in my opinion, aspect of Persepolis is the turn to another world our lead not just peaks through but also lives through as a child. Through Marjane’s life being set in two different worlds and not just the conflicts but also with others it causes in Persepolis, we are able to see a diverse and ever-expanding environment of opinions of deeply written with attention to specific motivation. In other words, various perspectives of all kinds blossoms with Satrapi’s energetic yet meditative and demanding writing style.

Persepolis makes the graphic novel medium the perfect medium for it by making each scene more impactful in the form of her artwork. No words are said sometimes. And that’s it. Things you can’t do with novellas Satrapi performs with pictures that speak a million words, her million words, and so eloquently and precisely.

My favorite works show and exude the lives of people without awareness nor possible care for relatability. It’s not saying: I’m so quirky, I’m just like you; rather, instead, in my eyes, better than, it says: I did this and this. Not: I am not like you. Not: I am just like you. Rather, just being themselves with no warning. Perspectives of a world so varied. If I had to choose a work that made me consider this so closely, Persepolis would undeniably be it. It’s defiance to be anything but itself, and it’s blazing personality that exudes a freedom, a bounciness to not just its storytelling but its world. Despite all the horrors, the Persepolis world feels like a world made up of people of so many lives that describe more than simple adjectives people throw out. Marjane is written as a complex character, not dominated by the self-perfectionism you see in so many lead autobiographical characters or an over-the-top selfishness to be pretentious; rather, she just feels like another person living her life but the world keeps trying to make that difficult for her.

I would rather say Persepolis is a work of grand ambition, a passion project, more than, again, an autobiography. Autobiographies, at least, more indie ones, fall under the passion project, sometimes small-natured but also small-hearted. By comparison, Satrapi makes the word autobiography not mean boring books about birds and fish but rather about the real world.

I plan to break down both volumes published in English separately to really go into detail each part, but, as a whole, what an impressive display of a rush of poignant, exact, burning passion, and polished up to a magnum opus that hopes to inspire and does so gracefully and full of so much heart.