How two writers experienced the Iranian Revolution and its aftermath
Persepolis**** by Marjane Satrapi Pantheon, 2003 In this entertaining, absorbing and touching memoir, Marjane Satrapi writes about her life as a young girl growing up in Iran, of the 1979 Islamic revolution, the overthrow of the Shah’s regime (1979) and the Iran-Iraq War (1980–1988). Originally published in France, this fast-paced story, recalling striking black-and-white comic-strip images, received wide acclaim and was compared to Art Spiegelman’s Maus. It is the story of Satrapi, the only child of radical Marxist parents, and her life from the age of six to fourteen—through the enforced wearing of a veil and being separated from her friends at school, to struggling to understand class differences, to protesting in the streets, to smoking her first “illegal” cigarette, to losing beloved members of her family at the hands of the regime. Masterly conveying what it was like to be a young girl, confused and swept up by the turbulent changes in her country and desperate to better understand and do something about the situation, Satrapi writes about the complications of the revolution clearly enough for the layperson to grasp, but at the same time with such subtle lucidity that those who have experienced it will be nodding their heads in recollection. In a sense, the reader learns about Iran’s history along with little Marji herself—we are caught up in her adolescent curiosity and emboldened by her new-found knowledge. In many ways the book is reminiscent of the “philosophy for beginners” style comic books, in that the nuances of the regime and Iran’s problems with Iraq are explained simply and with a great deal of intelligence, but without unnecessary jargon. Satrapi’s intimate portrayals of family life, interaction between people, day to day events on the streets of Tehran and descriptions of a child’s fear and anxiety during times of tragedy are told accurately and matter-of-factly. Through the eyes of this lovable child, the reader vicariously experiences and feels what it is like growing up in Iran, and is shown how it is possible to laugh even in the face of tragedy. Part history, part comedy, part memoir, Persepolis is a quick read that makes one giggle uncontrollably, pause to re-read and reflect upon issues and occasionally be moved to tears. How many books elicit such responses nowadays? Satrapi cannot be praised enough. Reading Lolita in Tehran *** by Azar Nafisi I.B. Tauris, 2003 Whereas Persepolis has a light, comic slant to its political agenda, Reading Lolita in Tehran is a deeper, more reflective account of Iran during the war with Iraq and of life under Islamic fundamentalist rule. As a professor of Western literature at the University of Tehran, Nafisi has been sacked for not wearing the veil. She subsequently starts an intimate weekly book club in the privacy of her home for seven of her best female students. This book tells of both Nafisi’s life in Iran and of the varied, but similarly claustrophobic, experiences of these women. Through the “safe” outlet of literature, these women are able to identify with a wider spectrum of humanity than the regime will allow. They can speak about their own feelings and desires, and search for their individual identities without having to cast off the veil of repression. Through Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov the girls learn about the “confiscation of one individual’s life by another,” and chief protagonist Humbert Humbert’s relentless domination of Lolita’s identity, much in the same way the Islamic fundamentalists dominate these women’s lives. Through Gatsby they consider the “American way of life” and the “decadence of Western society.” The chapter on Jane Austen begins with Yassi, the youngest student, paraphrasing and somewhat modifying the first line of Pride and Prejudice: “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Muslim man, regardless of his fortune, must be in want of a nine-year-old virgin wife.” At a time where such books were being banned in Iran, these women are able to devour them in the safety of Nafisi’s home each Thursday. For one morning each week, they are able to shed their veils, relax and speak freely. The women come from very different backgrounds and this provides the reader with insight into the many layers of Iranian life. Two of the girls have spent time in prison for their activities in anti-Islamic radical groups. One has had a series of tragic marital relationships. Another had been abused as a child. And always present, giving a further dimension to these stories, is Nafisi’s account of her own life. She is a woman of strength and integrity, who has been reduced to wandering the streets of Tehran in the guise of a fictive character, reduced to a nobody by the politics of her country. This is a memoir for anyone who loves books and discussing literature, but also imperative reading for those who wish to gain insight into the lives of academic women under a fundamentalist regime, which often seem more dead than alive.