19th of September, 2016
Rewritten Through Generations
Post-dinner really is the best time for storytelling. I can imagine my great-grandparents in the 1950s with their sons, daughters, and their grandchildren casually sipping on coffee, recalling major events in history that had drastically changed the course of their life, whether it was for better or for worse. Topics I know would be part of the conversation would include the Massacre of Nanking or the Second Sino-Japanese War. Considering that these stories would be told from my great-grandparent’s perspective, and taking into account that at that particular moment all family members were of Chinese ethnicity, I would assume there would be vulgar, racist remarks towards the Japanese, thereby instilling a general distaste and overtly racist attitude towards Japanese people in their children. How much of those stories were altered to pleasure a Chinese audience? Flash-forward a few decades later, my grandparents are subtly racist. It is hard for my parents and I to not roll our eyes when my grandparents tell us those same stories, albeit omitting the derogatory remarks. When it comes to the time I will recount the stories to my own children, I have to take into account the fact that have not lived through that era. I have not been personally victimized. I currently live in a society where racism is not the cultural norm, and is often shamed. However, I have also not heard a Japanese perspective, either. When I pass on the stories to the next generation, naturally information will be lost and I will have to alter the stories as I see fit, considering all the history and relations Japan and China have had since the 1930s.
For me, it is that same storytelling aspect in Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis, that has it censored in Iran. There are an infinite amount of stories about the Islamic Revolution passed down from generation to generation by word of mouth, and much less in number when it comes to published works. Satrapi was someone who put her memories into writing and published it. That fear that Persepolis could spark another revolution and cause even more instability to Iran is what is preventing the widespread distribution of Satrapi’s memories. It is those memories that can shape Iran, a country in political turmoil since the 1979 revolution, and rewrite its future. Often times it is easier to relate to someone who has went through the same oppression as you. The Iranian youth who are prevented from reading Persepolis are inherently prevented from learning and challenging the same lessons that Satrapi had learned throughout her upbringing in a complex, unstable country. There are fundamental values to Iranian society that have shaped the country’s ideologies, and some of those values are crucial to Iran’s identity and should not be altered. On the other hand, I find it toxic when youth are not encouraged to criticize and challenge certain societal norms that are long due to be changed, by fear of being oppressed by the government. In a sense, the cycle of history, memories, and oppression becomes cyclical. The act of retelling historical memories generation by generation is essential–whether it be through spoken word or by writing. I believe the retelling of memories should be kept truthful, but at the same time I also believe in tweaking the story. It is essential that the speaker keeps the current events of the world in mind, adjusting the story however necessary. It is the next generation’s job to pass along the story with their own mindsets.