graphic novel – Perfect Leaves

Persepolis Part 1: The Story of a Childhood

persepolis cover — Pantheon, 2003. 153 pages

Title: Persepolis

Author: Marjane Satrapi

Synopsis: An adult Satrapi recounts her childhood experiences living in Iran during the Iranian Revolution and resulting turmoil. The story covers roughly four years of her childhood, between 1980 and 1984 (ages 10 to 14).

Rating: 3 stars

The Review:

I finally got around to reading this cult classic.

If I had a dollar for every time a friend of professor recommended this title, I’d have a solid 50 bucks. Persepolis appeals to a wide variety of people. In my media classes, we discussed Persepolis as an “inventive way to tell the story of the Iranian Revolution and its aftermath.” In my writing classes, we fawned over the flow of the narrative, dissected the symbolism in the images and fawned over the writer’s gender. In my political and Islamic circles, people hold Persepolis as the pinnacle of #MuslimahExcellence because she “gives a voice to those who would otherwise be silenced” (problematic, I know).

Curiosity eventually drove me to buy the book. I’m interested in the history of the Gulf States and figured this graphic novel would both help me learn a bit about what happened during the Revolution and give me a glimpse into Iranian lives. I suppose you could say the book served its purpose, but it was nothing spectacular. Perhaps I knew more about the Iranian Revolution than I thought I did, but I didn’t really learn anything new from Persepolis. The more interesting parts of the book dealt specifically with Satrapi’s life.

It’s impossible to tell whether she’s embellishing her story, but she seems to have had a pretty deep understanding of the situation despite her young age. I’m guessing her analytical skills came from her family’s apparent wealth, her parents’ political leanings and her secular French education. Based on Satrapi’s telling, the less-educated children were more susceptible to believing the propaganda of the “Islamic” regime. Still, her family’s status lead to several uncomfortable moments for me throughout the story.

Near the beginning, when Satrapi discusses the nation-wide veiling mandate, she drew an image that equates the veil to oppression, without much context. The protesters on the left are women covered head-to-toe in black garments while shouting, “veil! veil! veil!” The women opposite them have their hair exposed and they’re wearing light clothes while shouting, “freedom! freedom! freedom!” Here the reader is supposed to assume that wearing hijab is something evil, oppressive and wrong, whereas not wearing an outer covering is the “correct” choice.

persepolis, p5 veil — Persepolis, page 5

Seeing as the regime mandated the covering, I can see how Satrapi would conflate covering with oppression, but the lack of nuance in the story telling is precisely what leads Western societies to assume all women who cover are doing so by force. It also leads Western governments to take actions that prevent Muslim women from exercising their choice to cover. Despite being irked by Satrapi’s choice, I appreciate that she later told the audience that both women and men were subject to strict dress codes.

persepolis p 75, dresscode — Persepolis, page 75

persepolis p75, a note on mens dress codes — Persepolis, page 75

About halfway through Persepolis, Satrapi begins discussing the exodus of her friends and family. The image she uses to illustrate this moment in history implies that the majority left simply by obtaining a passport and flying out of the country.

Passports at that time were expensive and increasingly hard to come by. This blatant display of wealth left me cringing and wondering about those who were less fortunate. How did they leave the country? Did they choose to stay or were they forced to? Did they use smugglers to illegally cross borders in hopes of seeking refugee status? This is her story, so I didn’t expect her to go into too much detail about it, but I expected such a smart child to at least consider the question. The only times we hear about people hastily crossing the border are when the people a) have a direct relationship with Satrapi and b) are being pursued by the police.

persepolis p 64, exodus — Persepolis, page 64

Perhaps this particular scene bothered me because in a way, I’m also choosing not to live in my own country for political and financial reasons. I chose to work outside of the US because I couldn’t find work that justified the insane amount of tuition I paid for my undergraduate degree. On top of not being able to find a decent-paying job, I’m constantly targeted for my race, gender and religion. Why would I live through that when I can just go find work elsewhere?

I’m aware that my choice to leave is an exercise of privilege, and sometimes I feel guilty about not “weathering the storm” but I’ve got health and other issues to worry about, without my environment making it worse. I don’t plan to leave the US permanently, at least not yet, but I’ve chosen to leave in search of a safer, more comfortable life, which is precisely what Satrapi’s friends and family did.

Right under the image of people lining up to leave, we see a picture of Satrapi’s family in their car. When her mother suggests they also leave, her father brushes off the idea, suggesting they’d “sink” to the level of taxi drivers and cleaning ladies in the US. This, to me, meant he was attached to his material wealth, and that he thought himself better than people in those service industries. I was raised to treat everyone equally, regardless of where they come from or what they do for a living (assuming they’re not in the business of harming people), so this scene rubbed me the wrong way. Satrapi’s father placed his wealth in higher regard than his family’s safety. This isn’t the only scene where we see his attachment to worldly goods.

persepolis p 64, taxi driver and maid — Persepolis, page 64

While I was reading, Satrapi’s parents’ judgmental attitudes continued to bother me. Satrapi didn’t illustrate their judgement as a form of criticism. Rather, she illustrated their character in a way that was boldly honest. I’ve witnessed women all over the world criticize/judge anyone and everyone around them. Regardless of whether they were South Asian, Chinese, Black or Arab, they all found fault in the women (and teenage girls) around them. When I think about it, I wasn’t so much bothered by Satrapi’s parents specifically; I was bothered by global trend I’ve noticed. I could understand some level of political judgement during the Iranian Revolution or during other similar times of war and upheaval, but usually the judgement is petty and unnecessary, and it revolves around someone’s appearance.

persepolis p 75, judgement — Persepolis, page 75

Despite all of my issues with it, Persepolis isn’t a bad book. I can see how it’s important in the cannon of Middle Eastern female writers. Persepolis, however, obviously isn’t meant for people like me. If you know nothing about Iran or the Iranian Revolution, then perhaps you’ll enjoy the novel. If you’ve never met an Iranian person and have no hopes of meeting one, then give Persepolis a go. Since I’ve already learned at least the basic situation and having met several Iranians in my life, Persepolis didn’t add anything to my knowledge base. That said, I kept reading because I wanted to see what happened in Satrapi’s life, and the graphic novel ended on a little cliff hanger. I’m intrigued enough to want to read the second part, but I don’t feel compelled to read it right away.

Do I think Persepolis is overrated? Yes, absolutely. Would I still recommend it? Yes, why not? Persepolis gets three dim stars from me while I try to figure out what I missed. If you’ve read it or plan to read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you loved it, please help me understand why Persepolis is so popular.

Read more Persepolis reviews on Goodreads.

Buy the book: Amazon | Thriftbooks (click here for 15% off your first order)

A Reimagining of a Childhood Classic + a Not-So-Good Read

Heads up, two graphic novel reviews are coming our way.

anne of green gables cover image — Andrews McMeel Publishing, 2017. 232 Pages

Anne of Green Gables, written by L.M. Montgomery, adapted by Mariah Marsden, illustrated by Brenna Thummler and edited by Erika Kuster.

I think I read Anne of Green Gables for the first time in fifth grade. It wasn’t a book I particularly loved, but since the new remake came out in 2016 and the graphic novel popped up on NetGalley I snagged a copy.

My first impression of this version of was that the art is beautiful. It’s detailed yet not overly so, and it suits the material at hand. Anne’s whimsical nature comes across in the bright colors and patterned surroundings.

Overall, the novel is short and sweet. It begins around the time the Cuthberts adopt Anne and ends after she graduates from college. This adaptation trims the fat of the novel and sticks to the most important scenes. I’d have appreciated just a little more story, but Anne is fine as it is.

Because it’s been so long since I read the novel version of Anne of Green Gables, I’d forgotten the majority of the plot. This made reading the graphic novel a pleasing experience. I’d forgotten how cute Anne and Gilbert are together; I started shipping them almost as soon as Gilbert entered the narrative. Whenever the elders punished Anne for a mistake, I too felt the harshness and unfairness of it all. I’d also forgotten Anne has such a lovely vocabulary. Her ability to tell tales, is pretty much unrivaled. Huck Finn comes close, but Anne’s language is much prettier. I bet she’d make a great author or blogger.

The Anne of Green Gables graphic novel is short; I read the entire thing in the span of an hour or so. It’s great for people who want to re-read the story without sinking a huge time commitment into it. It’s also a great way to introduce a graphic novel reader into classics. I know there are kids and adults alike who are adamant in their belief that the classics are no good, perhaps this version of Anne of Green Gables will change their minds. This version may also help those who find the novel version too difficult. The visual aspect can help people follow along. There’s no need for people of differing abilities to miss out on a great story.

I really couldn’t find fault with this graphic novel, so I’m giving it five glowing stars.

image of pos cover — Lion Forge Comics, 2017. 256 Pages

POS: Piece of Sh*t, written by Pierre Pacquet and illustrated by Jesus Alonso Iglesias

Oh boy, what do I even say about this one? Take pretty much all of the positive energy from the Anne section and drop it in the trash. POS‘s art was nice, but that’s about where my praise ends. I understand that dog is important to the story but the plot has no real cohesion. The graphic novel jumps from scene to scene in a rambling flashback that ends in anticlimax. There are too many scenes that have nothing to do with the dog, if the dog is indeed the focus.

I guess it was kind of cool to see the struggles of someone trying to get into the publishing business. POS is a french novel that’s been translated and released for English speaking readers. I honestly wouldn’t recommend simply because there’s no story. If i had time to get to know Pierre and get invested in his life, maybe it would be a better story. As it stand, the reader is immediately thrown into Pierre’s life, with no real reason to care about anything he does. Skip this one, pick up a second copy of Anne instead, lol.

Since zero stars isn’t an option I’m giving POS once rousing star for the POS that it is.

Anne of Green Gables on Goodreads | POS on Goodreads (apparently there were people who found POS riveting)

I received both of these graphic novels from NetGalley.

I Managed to Score Volume 2

If you missed my review of the first volume, check it out here.

DayBlack Volume 2

By: Keef Cross

As I mentioned in my previous DayBlack review, DayBlack follows the story of Merce, a slave-turned-vampire who’s trying to survive in the modern world. Over the centuries, he has invented several clever tactics for staying alive undetected.

When I finished the first volume (which contains issues 1-3), I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue reading the series. I don’t remember what made me feel that way though, because when I saw the second volume on NetGalley I requested it so fast I surprised myself. I guess deep down I really wanted to know how Merce’s story continued.

While reading this volume, I realized I misspoke in my first DayBlack post. I was reading one volume as if it were a single story, but actually each volume contains three different issues. If I bought them individually instead of receiving the volume, I’d have to purchase three separate books. I realized my mistake when I made it to Issue Five, and after I noticed it I felt like I was binge-reading the story. I think that’s what eventually got me hooked.

Volume 2 (issues 4-6) begins in a strange place. I spent most of Issue 4 trying to figure out what was happening. I didn’t understand where Merce was or what he was doing, and his son seemed to have disappeared as well. I was satisfied in Issue 6 when his son came back, but just like in the first volume, his appearance was brief. DayBlack Volume 2 seems to be where Merce’s backstory begins to mesh with his present day activities. Two characters reappear from his past, and the reader is trying to figure out who they are while Merce tries to figure out why they’ve arrived. In other words, Merce is just as confused as the reader. I was confused; then I was angry that my confusion wasn’t being resolved. At the same time, Merce’s confusion dissipates and his anger grows. By creating this emotional involvement with the reader, Cross evokes feelings of empathy for Merce.

Based on what we’ve seen of other vampires in the series, Merce seems to be decidedly more human (this volume introduces a potential reason for that). He experiences grief at the loss of a past lover. He experiences anger and lust and longing. Most importantly, he feels remorse.

While Merce may outwardly seem guarded and haughty to the characters in the story, the reader knows he holds himself to a relatively high moral standard. When he makes a mistake he feels guilty. He feels a sense of duty towards his son, even if his son should technically be his worst enemy. He tries not to kill people. When he does kill someone, he does it only to protect himself.

Other vampires kill gratuitously, and they make a mess of it in the process. The other vampires we’ve seen so far in DayBlack don’t think twice about ending a humans life for even the smallest transgressions. The vampires manipulate humans, and when they’re done they discard them. It’s no wonder the vampire hunters are so intent on purging the Earth of this night-walking species.

We also learn one of Merce’s vulnerabilities in Volume 2. It’s not his kryptonite, but it’s clearly something that causes him great emotional anguish.

Just like the first volume of DayBlack, this one is not for the faint of heart, and it’s potentially NSFW. The scenes are more suggestive and more bloody. Partway through the volume, I actually started counting how many instances of barely-hidden nudity I saw. Male sex organs are generally covered by plants or by another person’s limbs. Female genitalia are covered by similar means, but their chests are usually visible, even through clothing. There were a couple instances where nothing but a stream of blood “covered” a woman’s nipples.

I don’t particularly want to see the graphic scenes. In fact, I feel guilty because I feel like I should be filling my mind with other things. I’m so involved in the story at this point, though, that I almost feel obligated to continue. An invisible force is coaxing me to follow Merce until the end. Like it or not, I’m in this for the long run.

I’m giving four stars (feathers? I need a personalized rating system) to DayBlack: Volume 2, not because I found fault in it, but because I can’t justify myself giving 5 stars for something so violent. That said, I enjoyed the story and I’m pleased by the art. I hope more comic artists follow in Cross’s footsteps and create art that doesn’t conform to European or East Asian standards. I cautiously recommend DayBlack: read at your own risk. It’s so different from other comics, though, that I think it’s worth the read even if it’s not your style.

DayBlack Volume 2 will be available for purchase on December 27th, 2017. Find it on: Amazon | Thriftbooks | Goodreads

Tea AND Dragons?! #yesplease

The Tea Dragon Society

By: Kate O’Neil

I loved this book so much it warrants the second-ever gif on my blog. This was my face the entire time I was reading:

I picked up this beauty while I was browsing through the graphic novels on NetGalley and the title immediately caught my attention. How could I not read something about tea? The dragons were just an added bonus. I figured the story would be simple since this is a Middle Grade book (ages ~9-12) but boy was I in for a treat.

There are so many interesting things I’m having a hard time sorting them out in my head to write this review.

Let’s start with the major theme: traditions. The book begins with Greta questioning whether it’s still important for her to learn her mother’s craft. She comes from a line of blacksmiths, but apparently it’s a dying art. Along the way she runs into a dragon, which she later learns is a tea dragon. Like blacksmithing, raising a tea dragon is no longer a cherished skill. Greta, her friends and her mentors all grapple with whether, how and why people should keep traditions alive.

As for the dragons themselves, well, O’Neil certainly put time into creating their stories. Each dragon produces a specific type of tea. When the tea is brewed properly, is has magical properties and contains all of the memories it has with its caretaker. Each tea dragon has its own personality and they’re notoriously difficult to care for. They are quite unlike their full-dragon cousins.

Early in the story, Greta meets Minette, a lost girl. I don’t want to give too much of her backstory away, but I thought it was exceptionally clever of O’Neil to have a tea dragon pair with Minette in her time of need.

Throughout the novel, there’s also an LGBTQIA undertone. It’s not overtly obvious, in fact, unless you’re paying close attention you might miss it. While some novels attempt to push a political agenda down your throat in such a way that destroys the integrity of the story, the LGBTQ* elements were woven in so seamlessly that they just made sense.

The Tea Dragon Society was a well-written, beautifully illustrated, fully immersive experience. I’m actually kind of upset there aren’t more novels out (yet?).

I want to know how Greta and Minette grow. I want to find out more about their families. I want to see what becomes of blacksmithing, tea dragon raising and other old-world crafts. I want to see what happens to Hesekiel and Erik. How do they care for each other? What exactly happened during the battle the tea dragon alluded to?

If you’re reading this, do me a favor: grab a copy of The Tea Dragon Society and make sure all of your friends to the same. It comes out on October 31st but is already available for preorder on Amazon. It’s so wonderfully pure. It may feel like there’s little hope for humanity these days, but The Tea Dragon Society is a ray of sunshine in the darkness.

tea dragon society cover — Oni Press, 2017. 72 pgs

Who Provides Medical Services for Super Villains?

Medisin cover — Action Lab – Danger Zone, 2017. 76 Pages

Medisin Volume 1: First Do No Harm

By: Jeff Dyer, Mike McKeon, and David Brame

I know the title sounds like I’m going to talking about health care for the Trump administration (couldn’t resist) but this question is actually the premise of a new series of graphic novels. A team of doctors — all of whom have questionable backgrounds — have banded together to take care of the world’s super villains. All of the doctors are aware they are treating villains, and all of them have their own justifications for doing so. Though the doctors promise to give the villains their best care, there’s no guarantee that the villains will treat the doctors with the same level of nicety. To top it all off, the head of all the super villains has placed some sort of virus or parasite in the doctors’ bodies to keep them in line. Basically, they cannot defect even if they wanted to. There is only one doctor with the special “privilege” of being parasite-free. He can leave anytime he wants, but he needs to stay for reasons the reader will discover.

While the characterization in Medisin is lackluster, the cast of characters is itself interesting. There’s a pregnant villain who is protective of her growing fetus, a sex-addicted doctor, a doctor and mother from China, a teenage boy, a doctor who lost his license, a pedophillic villain, a pedophillic doctor (unrelated), a goblin, and a hyper-aware computer system, among others. Because this is still the beginning of the series, I think there are many more villains to meet, but all of the doctors are introduced in the first volume.

Medisin has so many fascinating possibilities that I’m quite sad the writing is so poor. The writing is truly, truly awful. Every character seems to have a story and it doesn’t feel like the artists understand the first rule of comics: show, don’t tell. The characters randomly go off into these page-long monologues explaining the values of the corporation or delve into self-righteous soliloquies that fit awkwardly into the flow of the story. I get that the reader does need to know this information, but it definitely could have been done better.

I was also upset with Medisin’s coloring. I won’t fault the artists for their color palette, but the coloring overall was rather dull. I’m not sure if that was because I was reading a protective PDF, but reading Medisin hurt my eyes. For some reason, the artists chose to color the computer’s dialogue in white in green. All of her (his?) speech bubbles are green with white writing, making them almost impossible to read.

I’m not sure how the book is formatted on the Kindle, but reading Medisin on my phone was such a challenge. I recommend reading Medisin on a larger screen.

Medisin actually kind of reminded me of a particular episode of Grey’s Anatomy (spoiler alert). Grey and Shepard were tasked with treating a patient on death row. He was scheduled to be executed about a week from when he was admitted into the hospital. Both doctors were horrified by what the criminal had done and that he was to be executed soon, but Shepard refused to treat the criminal fairly while Grey wanted to give him a fighting chance. In the end, the criminal confesses to manipulating Grey’s emotions, but it’s unclear whether he’s trying to convince himself of this (meaning he’s a good person on the inside) or Grey (meaning she wasted her time believing in him).

This philosophical thread seems to be the basis of Medisin. The relationships between characters and the doctors reasons for helping villains are sufficiently compelling to keep me interested in the story. If the artists strengthen their writing and make a few color changes, Medisin might potentially become iconic.

I can’t find it on Thriftbooks, but Medisin is available on Amazon. I got this copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review, and I’m glad I had the opportunity.