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Nylon Road: A Graphic Memoir of Coming of Age in Iran
In the tradition of graphic memoirs such as Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis, comes the story of a young Iranian woman’s struggles with growing up under Shiite Law, her journey into adulthood, and the daughter whom she had to leave behind when she left Iran.
128 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2009
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September 12, 2020
2020 Women In Translation Readathon Book #5. Translated from the German by Teresa Go and Miriam Wiesel.
This graphic memoir recounts the author's experiences growing up in Iran, and her life as an expat in Switzerland.
As we get older we often look back at our younger selves with mixed emotions. The author illustrates this well by being "visited" by various younger versions of herself. We are all amalgamations of our past selves, and I really liked how this was done here. I didn't love the illustration style, and the non-linear unfolding was a tad jarring in parts, but I really appreciated how well the author explored the myriad themes explored here.
This graphic memoir recounts the author's experiences growing up in Iran, and her life as an expat in Switzerland.
As we get older we often look back at our younger selves with mixed emotions. The author illustrates this well by being "visited" by various younger versions of herself. We are all amalgamations of our past selves, and I really liked how this was done here. I didn't love the illustration style, and the non-linear unfolding was a tad jarring in parts, but I really appreciated how well the author explored the myriad themes explored here.
November 20, 2014
Bashi tells the story of her life by using the slightly schizophrenic plot device of being approached in the present by various "selves" from other points in time. It's ultimately more confusing than anything and gave me no real sense of who she is today. And as her life experiences are so like those of Marjane Satrapi's, yet somehow not as interesting, I wonder what Bashi thought she could add to the dialogue of growing up as a girl in Iran. I'm not trying to look down on her life or anything, of course her experiences are to her worth as much as my own life is to me & it's valid that she chose to write a book about them. I've just been there & I've done it already.
August 9, 2014
This is a compelling memoir about growing up in Iran under its oppressive theocratic regime. It's impossible to not compare this book to Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis, and Nylon Road does suffer in comparison but it is a perspective unique from Satrapi's and certainly worthy of an audience.
March 31, 2018
¿Sabes algo realmente de cómo viven las mujeres en Irán? Este cómic relata en primera persona las vivencias de una iraní emigrada a Suiza. En un acertado recurso narrativo, su nuevo día a día se ve interpelado por la mujer que vivió años atrás en Irán. Muy recomendable.
February 18, 2015
Parsua Bashi explores her life growing up in Iran through staged discussions with herself at various ages. The entire narrative is told through a flashback, revealing particular events in Bashi's life which may not have formed her but do define her. I love this set-up. The older I get the more I want to talk to my past selves. My opinions, held so tightly when I was 16, seem naive now that I am 31. Bashi with love and forgiveness argues with her younger selves, challenges their thinking while simultaneously feeling nostalgic for those versions of herself which have passed.
While Islamic Iranian culture is explored, the primary focus remains on Bashi, an internal exploration of her world through her eyes. I really appreciated this personalization as too often memoirs can stray a bit too far into cultural analysis without acknowledging the subjective bias inherent in a "memoir".
As so many reviews of this graphic memoir mention, no comments on Nylon Road are complete without a comparison to Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis, a graphic memoir about growing up in Iran (all hail the similarity). Most reviews will tell you that Persepolis is "better" than Nylon Road; I am neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Satrapi's memoir is certainly more historical and epic and the such not, but that is exactly why I feel it disingenuous to place to important a value on comparing the two. Just because they are both memoirs about girls growing up in Iran does not mean they should be judged against each other. I think it sufficient to say that they are both good.
Moving away from the narrative to the images, grays, tans, and white are the only colors used, and I am curious to know why. What is it about this color scheme that appealed to Bashi? And why does it appeal to me? At this point, I don't really have any answers.
While Islamic Iranian culture is explored, the primary focus remains on Bashi, an internal exploration of her world through her eyes. I really appreciated this personalization as too often memoirs can stray a bit too far into cultural analysis without acknowledging the subjective bias inherent in a "memoir".
As so many reviews of this graphic memoir mention, no comments on Nylon Road are complete without a comparison to Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis, a graphic memoir about growing up in Iran (all hail the similarity). Most reviews will tell you that Persepolis is "better" than Nylon Road; I am neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Satrapi's memoir is certainly more historical and epic and the such not, but that is exactly why I feel it disingenuous to place to important a value on comparing the two. Just because they are both memoirs about girls growing up in Iran does not mean they should be judged against each other. I think it sufficient to say that they are both good.
Moving away from the narrative to the images, grays, tans, and white are the only colors used, and I am curious to know why. What is it about this color scheme that appealed to Bashi? And why does it appeal to me? At this point, I don't really have any answers.
February 9, 2020
Originally published in German in her country of residence Switzerland, the edition I read was published on November 10th 2009 by St. Martin’s Griffin in English.
As far as warnings go. There’s definitely some nonsexual nips action going on, mostly to contrast western cliches against Iranian modesty standards. and there is some cartoon barby doll detail level nudity to represent the level of vulnerability and fragility our main protagonist is feeling.
As a work of personal memoir, the line between plot and creator bio is rather blurry, so here goes. Flipping over to the back of the book we get the following description. “In the tradition of graphic memoirs such as Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis comes the story of a young Iranian Woman’s struggles with growing up under Shiite law. Her journey into adulthood, and the daughter whom she had to leave behind when she left Iran. Beautifully told and poignant, Nylon Road is a powerful work about the necessity of freedom.”
And as we already see, there’s a lot of comparisons between Satrapi and Bashi because people don’t read enough comics! IMHO the comparison is rather shallow, but such is life. For starters, the person we meet at the start of the story is a grown woman with more life behind her then I (at least) initially realized, living in Sweden. As the story line progresses, Bashi keeps running into premonitions of herself from various points of her life triggered by various things that are going on in her present life. Sometimes the premonitions are more curious and sometimes they are more accusatory, but with each experience we learn a bit more about who Bashi is and who she has been.
Both a source of strength and weakness. The way that the story jumps around can be a bit more confusing then necessary. It also felt like maybe some of the speech bubbles were laid out backwards maybe? But I could honestly also relate to it pretty hard, in that I’ll be going around my daily life and then feel myself suddenly pulled back through time by a feeling or memory from my past that has been triggered by something in the present. But circling back to the comic at hand, this jumping around in time does allow us to effortlessly focus in only on things that are important, and maybe condense feelings and ideas that actually happened little by little over a longer period of time.
Linearly or not, it was very interesting to watch how Bashi’s thoughts and ideas shifted and changed over time. It also felt like there was a limited amount of “oh my old ideas were so bad and now I’m perfect” in that Bashi is able to express understanding for herself at each point and keeps judgement to a minimum. My only complaint was, early on, it felt like the word freedom was going to be bandied around too much in the sense that freedom equals capitalist choices, but I felt like ultimately it wasn’t nearly that bad.
How is gender and sexuality presented? Pretty well I think. Obviously there’s the veil, but Bashi doesn’t spend a lot of time obsessing about the obvious cliches and does offer some nuance to the situation. For better or for worse, sexuality (straight or otherwise) is not really touched upon that much besides talking about the outline of Bashi’s straight marriage. Which is something, but really not at the same time.
Class wasn’t really touched on in any overt ways, although I guess some subliminal messages could perhaps be drawn out of how well off Bashi’s family seems ultimately. She and her brothers have a lot of choice, and while this does not solve all of her problems by any means, I can only imagine how much more difficult getting out of the country would have been without it.
Ability vs disability is not touched on at all.
Otherwise, to compare Nylon Road to something not Persepolis, can I direct any of you to read A Game for Swallows: To Die, to Leave, to Return by Zeina Abirached, this other book that inevitably also gets compared to Persepolis is about the Civil War in Lebanon.
As far as warnings go. There’s definitely some nonsexual nips action going on, mostly to contrast western cliches against Iranian modesty standards. and there is some cartoon barby doll detail level nudity to represent the level of vulnerability and fragility our main protagonist is feeling.
As a work of personal memoir, the line between plot and creator bio is rather blurry, so here goes. Flipping over to the back of the book we get the following description. “In the tradition of graphic memoirs such as Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis comes the story of a young Iranian Woman’s struggles with growing up under Shiite law. Her journey into adulthood, and the daughter whom she had to leave behind when she left Iran. Beautifully told and poignant, Nylon Road is a powerful work about the necessity of freedom.”
And as we already see, there’s a lot of comparisons between Satrapi and Bashi because people don’t read enough comics! IMHO the comparison is rather shallow, but such is life. For starters, the person we meet at the start of the story is a grown woman with more life behind her then I (at least) initially realized, living in Sweden. As the story line progresses, Bashi keeps running into premonitions of herself from various points of her life triggered by various things that are going on in her present life. Sometimes the premonitions are more curious and sometimes they are more accusatory, but with each experience we learn a bit more about who Bashi is and who she has been.
Both a source of strength and weakness. The way that the story jumps around can be a bit more confusing then necessary. It also felt like maybe some of the speech bubbles were laid out backwards maybe? But I could honestly also relate to it pretty hard, in that I’ll be going around my daily life and then feel myself suddenly pulled back through time by a feeling or memory from my past that has been triggered by something in the present. But circling back to the comic at hand, this jumping around in time does allow us to effortlessly focus in only on things that are important, and maybe condense feelings and ideas that actually happened little by little over a longer period of time.
Linearly or not, it was very interesting to watch how Bashi’s thoughts and ideas shifted and changed over time. It also felt like there was a limited amount of “oh my old ideas were so bad and now I’m perfect” in that Bashi is able to express understanding for herself at each point and keeps judgement to a minimum. My only complaint was, early on, it felt like the word freedom was going to be bandied around too much in the sense that freedom equals capitalist choices, but I felt like ultimately it wasn’t nearly that bad.
How is gender and sexuality presented? Pretty well I think. Obviously there’s the veil, but Bashi doesn’t spend a lot of time obsessing about the obvious cliches and does offer some nuance to the situation. For better or for worse, sexuality (straight or otherwise) is not really touched upon that much besides talking about the outline of Bashi’s straight marriage. Which is something, but really not at the same time.
Class wasn’t really touched on in any overt ways, although I guess some subliminal messages could perhaps be drawn out of how well off Bashi’s family seems ultimately. She and her brothers have a lot of choice, and while this does not solve all of her problems by any means, I can only imagine how much more difficult getting out of the country would have been without it.
Ability vs disability is not touched on at all.
Otherwise, to compare Nylon Road to something not Persepolis, can I direct any of you to read A Game for Swallows: To Die, to Leave, to Return by Zeina Abirached, this other book that inevitably also gets compared to Persepolis is about the Civil War in Lebanon.
February 9, 2022
It's always shitty imo when your book (or art or music) is automatically equated with someone who did it first. (The literary equivalent of, 'has anyone ever told you that you look like...' No. Just shut up.)
No matter how amazing the Weeknd's music is, he will always be to many people 'this generation's Michael Jackson.' And no matter how amazing this graphic novel by Bashi is, I think it unfortunately cannot escape comparison to Satrapi's iconic 'Persepolis.' That being said, if you have to be compared to another work, a comparison to great one is it's own compliment--and if you surpass the 'yardstick,' even better. I do believe that Nylon does manage, in a fraction of the pages, to surpass Persepolis. The premise of the books could not be more similar (Iranian girl who grows up during the Iranian Revolution and escapes a bad marriage emigrates to a German speaking European country and has an identity crisis)--but the execution could not be any more different.
Bashi's drawing style flows in pastels and uncertain, free lines. Panels bleed together and layout isn't uniform. This already endears the art to me, but what really locked this book into my heart was the focus of the story. Instead of a linear narrative, Bashi's tale starts as an adult Iranian woman living in Switzerland--who keep running into past versions of her own self. Each encounter opens a door to a memory of her growing up in Iran---of her past beliefs and convictions--of her spirit's evolution. Our relationship with our country IS a relationship, so what do you do when you live trapped in an abusive relationship that lets you know it will never want well for you? Do you martyr yourself and swallow your complaints? Do you try to fight (when you see everyone else who fights getting crushed and the pulp of these deaths making the machine stronger?) Do you leave, to a place where you will always be foreign? Are you a coward, a traitor? Or a bird, with one life to live? What does a western punk woman, a fundamentalist Muslim woman and a communist female activist in Iran---share? In motivation, if not in ideology? And if your past self could warn you, would you listen?
[[Note: I recommend reading both books back to back, for the best comparison experience.}}
No matter how amazing the Weeknd's music is, he will always be to many people 'this generation's Michael Jackson.' And no matter how amazing this graphic novel by Bashi is, I think it unfortunately cannot escape comparison to Satrapi's iconic 'Persepolis.' That being said, if you have to be compared to another work, a comparison to great one is it's own compliment--and if you surpass the 'yardstick,' even better. I do believe that Nylon does manage, in a fraction of the pages, to surpass Persepolis. The premise of the books could not be more similar (Iranian girl who grows up during the Iranian Revolution and escapes a bad marriage emigrates to a German speaking European country and has an identity crisis)--but the execution could not be any more different.
Bashi's drawing style flows in pastels and uncertain, free lines. Panels bleed together and layout isn't uniform. This already endears the art to me, but what really locked this book into my heart was the focus of the story. Instead of a linear narrative, Bashi's tale starts as an adult Iranian woman living in Switzerland--who keep running into past versions of her own self. Each encounter opens a door to a memory of her growing up in Iran---of her past beliefs and convictions--of her spirit's evolution. Our relationship with our country IS a relationship, so what do you do when you live trapped in an abusive relationship that lets you know it will never want well for you? Do you martyr yourself and swallow your complaints? Do you try to fight (when you see everyone else who fights getting crushed and the pulp of these deaths making the machine stronger?) Do you leave, to a place where you will always be foreign? Are you a coward, a traitor? Or a bird, with one life to live? What does a western punk woman, a fundamentalist Muslim woman and a communist female activist in Iran---share? In motivation, if not in ideology? And if your past self could warn you, would you listen?
[[Note: I recommend reading both books back to back, for the best comparison experience.}}
July 3, 2017
Me encantan estas novelas gráficas autobiográficas.
En esta, Parsua hace una retrospectiva de su vida y la transita encontrándose con ella misma, reflexionando acerca de cómo pensaba ella en aquel entonces, aceptándose y sobre todo: creciendo. Una novela sobre las inseguridades que tenemos, sobre nuestros propios temas tabú, sobre cómo cuesta hablar con nuestro pasado para que nos enseñe y no para que nos reproche qué tan mal nos ha ido o qué tanto hemos cambiado.
Ligera, un tanto más ideológica que Marjane en Persépolis, Nylon Road es un cálido acercamiento a la vida de Bashi y una invitación a cuestionarnos a nosotros mismos, a derribar muros de tabúes y de prejuicios.
"¿Cómo se puede ser libre y no hablar de ciertas cosas? Y ¿qué relación tiene eso con la libertad de expresión?"
En esta, Parsua hace una retrospectiva de su vida y la transita encontrándose con ella misma, reflexionando acerca de cómo pensaba ella en aquel entonces, aceptándose y sobre todo: creciendo. Una novela sobre las inseguridades que tenemos, sobre nuestros propios temas tabú, sobre cómo cuesta hablar con nuestro pasado para que nos enseñe y no para que nos reproche qué tan mal nos ha ido o qué tanto hemos cambiado.
Ligera, un tanto más ideológica que Marjane en Persépolis, Nylon Road es un cálido acercamiento a la vida de Bashi y una invitación a cuestionarnos a nosotros mismos, a derribar muros de tabúes y de prejuicios.
"¿Cómo se puede ser libre y no hablar de ciertas cosas? Y ¿qué relación tiene eso con la libertad de expresión?"
May 24, 2022
I had really high hopes and expectations going into reading this book, but I was left pretty disappointed. Just didn't hold me like most graphic memoirs do.
August 1, 2023
Some parts were touching and honest; other parts needed deeper reflection in my opinion. Really enjoyed this one all in all
June 10, 2010
Bashi begins her story as an adult trying to adjust to life (language, friends, etc.) in Switerland. In each following chapter, she is visited, confronted, and forced to defend her decisions to ghosts of her former self.
Everyone will mention Persepolis when they mention this so I've got to give it to Bashi for throwing in a panel of her reading it. Cool Parsua, cool.
While it is a memoir about growing up in Iran, it's just as much--perhaps more--about defending your current life to your past self. In Bashi's case, this meant lots of anger showed up, almost surprising amounts. Suppose I should wait until I'm 40 to see if I've turned into someone current Jess would hate.
Pretty good. Worth checking out from the library and reading.
Between 3/4 stars.
Everyone will mention Persepolis when they mention this so I've got to give it to Bashi for throwing in a panel of her reading it. Cool Parsua, cool.
While it is a memoir about growing up in Iran, it's just as much--perhaps more--about defending your current life to your past self. In Bashi's case, this meant lots of anger showed up, almost surprising amounts. Suppose I should wait until I'm 40 to see if I've turned into someone current Jess would hate.
Pretty good. Worth checking out from the library and reading.
Between 3/4 stars.
November 24, 2017
No me terminó de convencer, se que tenía un antecedente magistral como Persepolis como competidora, y creo que eso es lo que ha hecho que no lo disfrutará tanto, creo que la historia en momentos pierde enganche con el lector, a pesar de ser algo que sucedió, pero no tuve la conexión que me esperaba, aunque tengo que decir que rememorar lo que paso en ese tiempo está bien para no olvidar que el hombre es el único animal que tropieza dos veces en la misma piedra
May 21, 2016
I found this book to be interesting and confusing. Bashi's story is gripping to be sure, but her method of telling is confusing. She tells the story as an adult being visited by her various younger selves. While this method shows how much people can change and rehash past event, it's also very visually confusing and unclear.
January 25, 2016
I think this is her talking to her alter self! I just felt it was confusing at times!
April 28, 2018
Nylon Road is a graphic novel/memoir about the author's childhood and early womanhood in Iran, between the early 1980s and the early 2000s. Comparisons with Persepolis are inevitable, something Bashi acknowledges with a panel of herself reading Satrapi's memoir, but unfair; the two books are very different beasts. Where Persepolis seeks to tell (and contextualise) the story of the Iranian Revolution as much as it does that of Marjane, Nylon Road has a thoroughly personal focus. It's non-linear in structure, each chapter revolving around a conversation between Bashi - living in Switzerland - and one of a variety of her younger selves.
This narrative device fractures our sense of not just the author-protagonist - whose priorities and outlook change significantly over the course of her life - but also of (middle-class) life in Iran. We're shown a number of different ways to understand her experiences and the society around her, as repression expands and recedes, and as her own political and religious views evolve; in keeping with the book's central theme of the importance of free speech and (in particular) the freedom to disagree, Bashi spends quite a bit of time arguing with her younger selves. Sometimes this is born of a perspective they lacked at the time; sometimes it comes from a hard-won and potentially fragile emotional distance (regarding the loss of her daughter in her divorce); sometimes it's a product of her new life, distant from Tehran (derided as cushioned privilege by her 18-year-old self, fresh from the deprivation of the mid-80s, but experienced as dislocation and ambivalence by present-Bashi).
On balance, I preferred the context, the art, and the (bitter) humour of Persepolis - but Nylon Road remains a compelling and valuable portrait of one woman's experience of totalitarianism.
This narrative device fractures our sense of not just the author-protagonist - whose priorities and outlook change significantly over the course of her life - but also of (middle-class) life in Iran. We're shown a number of different ways to understand her experiences and the society around her, as repression expands and recedes, and as her own political and religious views evolve; in keeping with the book's central theme of the importance of free speech and (in particular) the freedom to disagree, Bashi spends quite a bit of time arguing with her younger selves. Sometimes this is born of a perspective they lacked at the time; sometimes it comes from a hard-won and potentially fragile emotional distance (regarding the loss of her daughter in her divorce); sometimes it's a product of her new life, distant from Tehran (derided as cushioned privilege by her 18-year-old self, fresh from the deprivation of the mid-80s, but experienced as dislocation and ambivalence by present-Bashi).
On balance, I preferred the context, the art, and the (bitter) humour of Persepolis - but Nylon Road remains a compelling and valuable portrait of one woman's experience of totalitarianism.
September 11, 2019
Una historia parecida a Persépolis, pero no tan buena.
Tenemos una historia similar a la que tenemos en Persépolis pero mucho más floja. Esta tiene de hilo conductor los diálogos de la protagonista consigo misma personificada en imágenes de sí misma de momentos diferentes.
Como narración en solitario, sin tener en cuenta Persépolis, es floja, pesada de leer en cuanto a narrativa visual e irregular en el ritmo. Tiene episodios bien narrados, pero son poquitos. La idea del diálogo con sus yoes es bastante buena, pero en ocasiones está muy forzada.
La historia es similar a Persépolis. Una mujer de Oriente Medio que se va a Occidente y allí se tiene que integrar y olvidar quién era para adquirir una nueva identidad. Antes era madre y esposa, ahora no... Esta disociación es la que dota de sentido a la narración en diálogo o apariciones, porque tiene que explicar a su pasado porqué hace lo que hace.
Como narración de las dificultades de la mujer emigrante que tiene que renunciar a su vida e hijos puede parecer interesante, pero la narración dificulta la empatía con la historia. Si te atrae la trama deberías decantarte por Persépolis, que es una historia similar. Si las comparamos, Persépolis llega mucho más al corazón y está mejor narrada.
En definitiva un cúmulo de buenas ideas que no están plasmadas con maestría y que, lejos de conseguir un efecto cautivador, terminan perdiendo al lector y sacándolo de la historia.
Si te gustó Persépolis esta novela gráfica puede que te guste aunque es mucho más floja. Si no has leído Persépolis te recomendaría que te dejes esta en el estante de forma preventiva.
Tenemos una historia similar a la que tenemos en Persépolis pero mucho más floja. Esta tiene de hilo conductor los diálogos de la protagonista consigo misma personificada en imágenes de sí misma de momentos diferentes.
Como narración en solitario, sin tener en cuenta Persépolis, es floja, pesada de leer en cuanto a narrativa visual e irregular en el ritmo. Tiene episodios bien narrados, pero son poquitos. La idea del diálogo con sus yoes es bastante buena, pero en ocasiones está muy forzada.
La historia es similar a Persépolis. Una mujer de Oriente Medio que se va a Occidente y allí se tiene que integrar y olvidar quién era para adquirir una nueva identidad. Antes era madre y esposa, ahora no... Esta disociación es la que dota de sentido a la narración en diálogo o apariciones, porque tiene que explicar a su pasado porqué hace lo que hace.
Como narración de las dificultades de la mujer emigrante que tiene que renunciar a su vida e hijos puede parecer interesante, pero la narración dificulta la empatía con la historia. Si te atrae la trama deberías decantarte por Persépolis, que es una historia similar. Si las comparamos, Persépolis llega mucho más al corazón y está mejor narrada.
En definitiva un cúmulo de buenas ideas que no están plasmadas con maestría y que, lejos de conseguir un efecto cautivador, terminan perdiendo al lector y sacándolo de la historia.
Si te gustó Persépolis esta novela gráfica puede que te guste aunque es mucho más floja. Si no has leído Persépolis te recomendaría que te dejes esta en el estante de forma preventiva.
March 6, 2025
Cuando seleccioné esta obra, me causaba a la vez curiosidad y algo de suspicacia. ¿Un cómic autobiográfico de una autora iraní que reside en Europa? Esto ya lo he leído antes (para quién no esté al tanto: Persépolis, de la gran Marjane Satrapi).
Decidí darle una oportunidad y la verdad es que me ha gustado mucho. En un lugar de la historia reconoce abiertamente que quiso escribirla tras leer Persépolis y, ciertamente, las semenjanzas son aparentemente muchas: dos autoras, con formación artística, que aman su cultura materna y que cuentan su vida y la historia reciente de Irán.
Sin embargo, el tebeo de Parsua Bashi pone el foco en las diferentes contradicciones ideológicas y personales que va viviendo. En el fondo, todos vivimos en la contradicción pero muy pocos tienen la honestidad de reconocerse, aceptarlo y reflexionar al respecto. El mundo, la vida, está lleno de matices y duda y la única certeza de Parsua es que toda posición extremista lleva a la anulación del individuo.
Además de lo anterior, resulta muy entretenido y se lee con gusto.
Decidí darle una oportunidad y la verdad es que me ha gustado mucho. En un lugar de la historia reconoce abiertamente que quiso escribirla tras leer Persépolis y, ciertamente, las semenjanzas son aparentemente muchas: dos autoras, con formación artística, que aman su cultura materna y que cuentan su vida y la historia reciente de Irán.
Sin embargo, el tebeo de Parsua Bashi pone el foco en las diferentes contradicciones ideológicas y personales que va viviendo. En el fondo, todos vivimos en la contradicción pero muy pocos tienen la honestidad de reconocerse, aceptarlo y reflexionar al respecto. El mundo, la vida, está lleno de matices y duda y la única certeza de Parsua es que toda posición extremista lleva a la anulación del individuo.
Además de lo anterior, resulta muy entretenido y se lee con gusto.
March 16, 2020
One of this year's Read Harder challenges is to read a memoir by someone from a religious tradition (or lack of religious tradition) that is not your own. I wanted to do a graphic memoir, but was coming up short in my thinking as I've read so many, but noticed this book, which had been sitting on my shelf for over a decade. Perfect choice! Through a series of dialogues with herself at earlier ages, Bashi explores her evolving feelings about Iranian culture and gender relations, the post-revolution Iranian government, the complex distinctions between the terms Persian and Arabic (which I've frequently heard asserted, but rarely explained with the clarity offered here), and the place of Islam in Iranian thought and society. Her positions are nuanced, emphasizing the need for Iranians to be able to evolve their own future and not to be imposed from without by the West. The narrative device is well done, even if it gets talky in places.
January 24, 2022
I have to say I did not feel as strongly intrigued by this book as I was with Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. This was more of a self-reflection of past selves that she was using to understand her decisions after the revolution and forward. I really surprised her European friends did not think of her as crazy for talking to herself in this way, but I can understand where she is trying to come to terms with herself and justify how she survived through that. It was a good book overall, but I didn't like the back and forth story line constantly. I get what she was doing, but it didn't keep my attention sometimes when I was reading it. Still worth reading for anyone interested.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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June 24, 2022From Follett
A young Englishman, sets off for the East in 1974 and stops in Iran where he meets and hastily married to seventeen-year-old enchanting Shirin while traveling in Iran in 1974. but events conspire to separate John from Shirin and their daughter, and he spends countless years trying to regain his lost family. Forced to endure the revolution and its violent consequences while he searches for his bride amidst the chaos.
A young Englishman, sets off for the East in 1974 and stops in Iran where he meets and hastily married to seventeen-year-old enchanting Shirin while traveling in Iran in 1974. but events conspire to separate John from Shirin and their daughter, and he spends countless years trying to regain his lost family. Forced to endure the revolution and its violent consequences while he searches for his bride amidst the chaos.
December 24, 2024
I loved the beautiful ending of the book. The story is told through conversations the author is having with her younger selves. It offers a glimpse into the life in Iran during Iran-Iraq war and post-war life and some parts of her immigrant life in Switzerland. As a woman, I relate to this book in many levels and makes me feel like the struggles of women are not specific to a region, rather universal. I'd recommend this book to all the women in the world.
April 7, 2019
Heel tof concept voor een strip van een Iraanse vrouw in Zwitserland die de confrontatie aan gaat met haar eigen persoon uit verschillende fasen van haar leven. Levert een paar mooie momenten op die de contrasten tussen die werelden analyseren, maar verder een wat chaotische strip.
August 10, 2021
Breve e informativo, sobretodo para la gente que quiera saber la vida en Irán y la vida de las mujeres ahí. Me ha encantado como se explica y me ha hecho ver ciertas cosas sobre la dictadura que hay en países parecidos que no se me habían planteado antes. Recomendable.
January 21, 2024
Die Story der iranischen Migranten ist an sich gut. Der Zeichenstil gefällt mir, allerdings ist die Art des Zwiegespräches mit unterschiedlichen Versionen ihrer selbst in unterschiedlichen Altern derart verwirrend, dazu sehr viel Text, dass ich nur schwer folgen konnte.
May 5, 2017
Gets a bit outrageous in a good way, on the topic of violence and fashion (in clothing).
August 31, 2017
Just love this book. The perspective, the thinking process and the story are combined together perfectly.
November 25, 2018
The story is a bit slow but the illustrations are BEAUTIFUL.
February 12, 2020
(not quite a 4 star for me, but definitely more than a 3)
March 5, 2022
Didn’t like it. I thought the narrative tool of “no, I’m LITERALLY hallucinating my younger selves!” was confusing and clunky. And the art’s just bad.
January 19, 2023
The storytelling structure is unique and innovative and provides a fresh perspective on what it is like to grow up in Iran.
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