I will admit that I had my doubts about this book when my boyfriend handed it to me and insisted I read it. Maybe it’s my stubborn nature, but whenever someone tells me I’ll love something, I distrust their verdict. But blast it, that boy knows me and I did indeed love this book when I got round to reading it.
I am not typically a reader of graphic novels but I think Persepolis may have converted me… Somehow it works far better with her story telling – of a story that can only be described as a comic tragedy. Satrapi tells us of her childhood and how she grew from a proud intelligent little girl into a woman in Iran, and the trials she faced doing so.
For some reason, books make me far more emotional than films/TV do and so you shouldn’t be surprised to hear that I both laughed and cried in equal measure throughout reading Persepolis. And I could not bear to put it down until I’d finished it – the ultimate sign of a great book.
It’s important to read about other women’s experiences, and Satrapi takes your hand and guides you through hers with honesty and wit. It isn’t necessarily a sad or a funny book – it is just so very real.
So I do recommend Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi and next time my boyfriend passes me a book to read, I won’t pop it on my bookshelf to ignore for a few months (sorry Ross).