Persepolis: Journal Entry No 9 04/19/12

   This was the only journal entry that I wrote for this book.

    I really enjoyed the book, Persepolis,  considering that it was the first book that I read with graphic art. I was shocked by the authors thinking. She thinks of herself as a prophet, talks to God, and considers pursuing a career in being divine which is taboo in the religion of Islam. That is because we believe that Prophet Mohammed PBUH is the last Prophet and the seal of all Prophets. We believe that there were Messengers and Prophets before him, including but not limited to Abraham, Moses, and Ismail know to the Christians as Jesus.

     For her  to actually consider being a prophet as a career choice was very astonishing. In the book she is easily led by people when she goes overseas. This is also surprising that despite her families disagreements with the Iranian government, they are very proud Iranians. Regardless, the reality of being Iranian is something that Satrapi will never escape. The indication of this is when she screams her heritage on page 197     at the girls in the cafe which is also her moment of self realization.
   
      The way Satrapi draws herself, during her adolescent years, on page 189, is very amusing. It is a common phase that adolescents go through of being repelled and  fascinated with new prepubescent changes in her body. The fact that Satrapi realizes that she is being used by Markus, her boyfriend, is no surprise to me. Markus never stood up to his mother about her. He even asked her for money many times which is not the most gentlemanly thing to do. I think blaming politics for Satrapis' state of mind is not valid. This is because she spent many years abroad in the influence of western culture. They are many factors behind her way of life. Her family, her identity crisis, and trying to fit in shows her to be very malleable.
     The ending of the book is very abrupt and feels like a door slams in your face. Its like she has opened Pandora's box and is trying to effectively close it. The passage of her life ending in Iran is sealed by her grandmothers' death. She mentions that freedom has a price and I do agree with her. She has lost her family, birth place and relating to any country is hard for her.
     I told my friend that I was a nomad with no country. I am not accepted by Pakistanis because I can't speak or read  the language properly. I am not accepted by people in America because I am not born here. Even though I sound like an American, the minute I tell them I am not born here I have a fictional accent that would become apparent. My sister tells me it doesn't matter if your born here because all people see is your heritage. Of five siblings I am the one that was not born on American soil. Sometimes it feels like the person within you doesn't matter rather the nation you represent. I wonder what nation I represent? I am an observer of two countries yet the feeling of belonging is not felt in either.