Hey ASTU 100,

For the past couple of weeks, our class has focused on memory and trauma through the works of literary scholar Ilka Saal and more recently, literary theorist Judith Butler. These two articles were thought-provoking because they challenged ideas such as trauma transfer and vulnerability. Judith Butler’s article sparked my interest as she interrogates the extent of our social responsibility – focused primarily on the context of war. Where exactly do we draw the line between “us” and “them” when we consider who we want to grieve for? Why do we grieve for who we grieve for more than others? It was interesting to see the different connections being made in most of my classmates’ blogs as they too, were inspired by this question.

Butler claims that “by a cultural reflex, we mourn for some lives but respond with coldness to the loss of others” (36). a href=”http://blogs.ubc.ca/taylorkhatkar/2016/01/28/the-value-of-death-by-taylor-khatkar/”>Taylor reflects on this through Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, in which Oskar is seen to value his father more than people he doesn’t know. This is shaped by their relationship as father-son and Taylor explains that if he was not such a strong influence in his life, Oskar might have been more apathetic towards his father. Kendall extends this conversation and sees this Us vs. Them distinction as a “natural human response”. She considers the possibility that as social creatures, we will be “capable of understanding one another, despite differences in culture, religion, beliefs, and norms”. This perfectly segues into Mariana’s blog as she affirms that it is “a challenge restricted to the individual, to leave their comfort zone and see the interconnection with other people”. It is in these reflections that we see that value is shaped by both personal frames and social interactions with those we surround ourselves with.

Two of our classmates were interested in this cultural reflex. As Sania questions, “how and why are these factors still given place in society?” (on giving social status labels) She observes that media has been a significant tool in illustrating who deserves grief and who doesn’t, backing up points with the ISIS Crisis. Likewise, Kihan exemplifies this through the Musqueam land controversy. By not identifying ourselves with the Aboriginals, we do not feel the need to mourn for them.

In looking into these various connections, many of us have grasped Butler’s contention and started inquiries she wanted to be considered. Her work was difficult to approach, however I personally feel we’ve all reached the level of critical thinking that tries to help us understand why we value specific lives more than others.

Hope you have a good week!

Kristen Ylo

Hello Readers!

This week in our ASTU class, we further delved into Satrapi’s Persepolis through the exploration of Chute’s scholarly article, The Texture of Retracing in Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis. As a collective, we focused on her contention that “the complex visualizations that many graphic narrative works undertake require a rethinking of the dominant tropes of unspeakability, invisibility, and inaudibility that have tended to characterize recent trauma theory…” (Chute, 93). In this memoir, Satrapi utilizes a monochromatic style in the hopes of illustrating the traumatic events she faced during the Revolution and Iran-Iraq war. Our past discussions on her medium has also driven me to ponder about the extent to which her testimony, or first-hand experience, is favoured as a contribution to cultural memory.

Thoughts on this investigation is consistent amongst my classmates’ blogs as they too, question the personal narrative Satrapi expresses. Evident in Kendall’s reflection is the question of authority. Did Satrapi have any right to tell her story, controversial to the fact that Iran wasn’t (and still isn’t) supportive of her memoir (Chute, 106), my peer asks. She argues that the author does have the jurisdiction to recount her experiences as it is an exclusive account of her own perceptions. Kendall reinforces this with examples in the memoir, stating that “the fact that Satrapi acknowledges the flaws in her authority, and the limits of her own view, leads readers to trust in her authority more.” Likewise, Sam briefly emphasizes her authorization as he contrasts Persepolis with Spiegelman’s second-hand retainment; “It is as if he is in the place of the reader if he were reading Satrapi’s Persepolis.” It is in examples like these that fortify the potential Satrapi possesses in influencing how history is remembered.

The power that the minimalistic nature of the author’s art brings should not be forgotten either, as it is vital to understanding how Satrapi is able to convey her testimony so effectively. Raphael relays that “the separation between the author Satrapi, the child Marji, and the adult Marjane, lends itself to what Chute calls the “child’s-eye rendition” (99) of not only traumatic events but generally the entire novel. Diego expands on this idea with a single example, in which “she illustrates the human as something that resembles lego” (on Marji imagining a cut-up human being). Satrapi intentionally created her comic literary work in a “child’s understanding” in part because it did occur when she herself was a child, but also because as Chute argues, the abstraction allows us to pull in outside sources and our own imagination to fully comprehend the petrifying events that occurred.

However, on the other hand, does the story being told from a child-like perspective then undermine the possibility that it is a reliable source to contribute to cultural memory? The fact that these recollections may be hazy ideas that adult Satrapi gathers from her childhood makes one wonder, are first-hand sources credible if they are being told years later? Though Kihan supports the effectiveness of the medium alike with the majority of my classmates, she touches on the probability that “a critic could claim that the use of abstraction in {both Fugitive Pieces and} Persepolis overly romanticizes the historical events that these works attempt to represent.” But what becomes of the memoir if abstraction isn’t used? My classmate sums up our collective thoughts with, “Satrapi avoids glorifying the trauma in Persepolis not despite but in fact because of her abstraction of it.”

Why does this matter though? Cultural memory is, as I’ve acquainted myself with Sturken’s article, “a field {shaped by} cultural negotiation through which different stories vie for a place in history.” Reading through all of these amazing blogs, it’s easily achieved that our class has gained a greater understanding of this Revolution and war through her medium. Since I believe, none of us have stories of Iran’s history passed down to us by fellow friends or family, Satrapi’s memoir is the cultural memory we use to shape our understanding of history. The extent to which her art transpires to cultural memory, is seen to be at least relevant in the context of our ASTU class. If it doesn’t do any justice to anyone else, for example, Iran once again, who’s to say it doesn’t impact another group of individuals? Like what we have discussed in class and as Kendall has wrapped up her blog post, “{Satrapi is} just putting her story out there for someone to receive the message.”

I hope you had a great week and make the upcoming one another good one,

Kristen Ylo