Thursday, January 18, 2007


Persepolis 2 is much less substantial than the first volume. Mostly this go-round is memoir of a particularly tired variety. Apparently Marjane Satrapi--gasp--did drugs and had sex! She felt--gasp--isolated and awkward during her teenage years! She rushed into her first marriage--gasp--and was disappointed. Nothing particularly interesting comes of these revelations, certainly nothing on a par with the first book's surreal portrait of Iran's descent into theocracy.

I will give her credit for honesty. Satrapi is unafraid to portray herself as arrogant, petty, childish, selfish, and at one point despicably fascist (for which she gets bitch-slapped by her grandmother). Otherwise? Yawn.

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