November 10, 2014 - 16:38
What interested me most about Satrapi's childhood was her relationship with her veil. She describes feeling uncomfortable with it even after becoming "used to" it, and she expresses understanding it as a symbol of the oppression she and her family face as revolutionaries. I found this interesting considering a lot of the media today surrounding the supposed oppression of Middle Eastern women, and how this notion is simply a matter of judgmental opinion imposed by Western (or 1/3 World) women. I couldn't find it on the internet, but I can remember seeing an image of a 1/3 World woman looking at a veiled woman and thinking to herself "Wow, she's covered from head to toe--she must be so oppressed," while the veiled woman looks back, thinking "Wow, she has hardly anything on at all--she must be so oppressed." The idea here is that what 1/3 women see as a freedom afforded to them (the ability to show their skin) is actually seen by the veiled women as a result of oppressive men, desiring to see their bodies--a reduction of the female form to something physical, for males to enjoy. This, of course, raises a significant question: How do women around the world and across cultures gain and demonstrate power through sartorial expression? For many women who wear the veil that Satrapi and her mother so detest, it is a symbol of freedom (specifically, from being oversexualized). It seems that in Satrapi's case, however, it feels like a prison. This inconsistency alerts us to the dangers of the single story, as either viewpoint when understood singularly would dramatically affect one's perception of Middle Eastern gender roles.
Additionally, I was interested in Satrapi's immersion in American culture--through clothing, music, etc. I wondered if Satrapi saw her own "Westernization," of sorts, as a form of resistance. When she feels powerless and enraged by the government around her, she often retreats into her room and listens to music--loud, American rock music seems to be a favorite of hers. I wonder how this allegiance with another culture--one that, in her mind, might represent more freedom for women and youth--is a way of her claiming power when she is feeling otherwise powerless. Though I did read ahead, I wondered at this point in the book how this attempt at autonomy would play out for Satrapi later on, if she made it to the United States. Would she feel more empowered by this immersion into the American culture she often seeks in times of struggle? Or would she feel too much that she had lost her original culture to feel empowered at all?