The prospect of studying a graphic novel in an actual class will always surprise some. When asked about personal perception on what constitutes a comic book, elements of visual pieces, double bubble and the widespread “fun” factor will immediately come to mind. Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi, presents a first-person perspective on a political experience that has affected the life of one young girl, albeit through the lens of a graphic novel. There are always dangers at attempting to filter such an intense, sensitive political issue through the lens of a genre that has its roots on comedy and fun factor. Arguably, the threat of angering those that sympathizes with islamic ideals is somewhat alleviated, and this is because the content is entirely upon and only upon Satrapi’s personal experiences. Nobody can make religious or political rebellions to a person’s memory, even if it is thwarted and reshaped by external factors.

Displaying a serious issue through comedic lenses produces interesting results. Gone are the implications of a “regular” novel; the formation of a plot that is sustained over hundreds of pages, with its words allowing for a myriad of different and unlimited interpretations by the reader. What comes in place is a consistent set of narratives that consistently flash-forward and flashback for much of the time. Our own individual creativity is instead replaced by a set of concrete frames outlined in front of us by Satrapi herself. This allows Satrapi to dictate what she wants and does not want us to see. The contrast between the first and second frame on the very first page justifies this well. The first frame is – naturally – a picture of her younger self, being the central focus of the book and also the same figure on the cover. Satrapi purposely frames the second picture in such a way that she does not allow the reader to see herself, and simply giving the information that she is “on the far left”. Yet this foreshadows the veil, an element that will have great religious significances later on. The veil is also a tool to somewhat suppress a person’s unique identity. While the facial features are predominantly different, the veil creates many similarities between the five girls.

The differences between utilizing flashback and not using it also affects the tone of the novel. Whilst Satrapi jumps back and forth to remind and emphasize on the more important political events (i.e. The Islamic Revolution), it also enables Satrapi to cast her different persona between the youthful Marji and the contemporary grown-up Marjane recalling her experiences. What this does is it places Marji in the midst of first-person action and relegates Marjane to a third-person narrator. Satrapi does not use flashback in order to emphasize on scenes that demands more in-depth comprehension of Satrapi’s expression of emotion. This is most evident on P.140. Marji’s neighbor’s house was bombarded by the Iraqi Scud missiles. Satrapi suspends all flashback devices and adopts a really slow-progressing dialogue, all framed in muted white background and a rare approach on equally-spaced gutters. She focuses on simplistic devastation – showing a few shattered glass only in the first frame. Certainly it compelled us to think that the modern world is full of media portraying destruction to a degree that all modern human beings are more than capable of imagining destruction. Her shock and fear is accentuated by the one-off sharp-edged dialogue box instead of the conventional bubble. The frame below displays only a hug expression without any dialogue, and P.142 shows her anger amidst pitch black scene. Satrapi conveys that this particular feeling at that time was so extreme – it is impossible to put the feeling into a concrete picture. And she does not want to leave it into words, otherwise the readers will form their own imagination out of it.

Other handful of aspects includes the lack of a frame on P.51 and only one picture in P.116. All these are used for a reason and suggests that Satrapi has every intention to shape the reading experience of the reader in her own ways. This is synonymous with Marji’s own rebellious and independent nature. The use of graphics in the first place is already effective in locking out the reader’s imagination and forcing them to see the situation through her lens. Is it a success? Indeed. Satrapi was noted to almost create a new sub-genre within graphic novel itself. However, the concrete illustration of god and direct backlash on the contemporary regime will nevertheless turn heads and arouse some criticism. It is indeed ironic to portray god directly the way Satrapi sees him, but chose not to portray a bombarded house.