<http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/21/magazine/21wwwln-Q4-t.html> October 21, 2007 Questions for Marjane Satrapi Revolutionary Spirit Interview by DEBORAH SOLOMON
[Q] You've just turned your acclaimed series of graphic novels into a full-length animated film, "Persepolis," an oddly charming tale about the brutal subject of growing up in Iran during the Islamic revolution. Would you still describe yourself mainly as a graphic novelist?
[A] I don't very much like this term of graphic novel. I think they made up this term for the bourgeoisie not to be scared of comics. Like, Oh, this is the kind of comics you can read.
[Q] The problem with the phrase "graphic novel" is that it sounds as if it's referring to a book with X-rated or at least overly explicit content.
[A] Exactly. Chris Ware said something great. He said when he hears the term graphic novel, it makes him think of "Lady Chatterley's Lover."
[Q] Do you think cartoonists have received their artistic due?
[A] No. People either like to write or they like to draw. And we like to do both. We're like the bisexuals of the culture. People don't have any problem if you are a homosexual or if you are a heterosexual, but if you are a bisexual, they have more of a problem with you.
[Q] If that were true, why would anyone tolerate film, which is an even more hybrid form, mixing writing, music, photography and so on?
[A] You know, comics were created at the same time as the cinema. And the cinema very quickly became a major art. Cartooning didn't become a major art. There's a reason for that. People don't know how to deal with drawings.
[Q] How much did your film cost to make?
[A] Eight million dollars. It's nothing. Nothing. We had to pay a team of 100 people for two years. There are about 12 images per second.
[Q] The film certainly looks hand-drawn; it's done mostly in arty black and white, with none of the slickness of computer-generated animation. Were you concerned about surrendering the process of drawing to legions of animators?
[A] No. Many times opportunity happens, and people don't understand it's an opportunity. They say: "Why do you want to make a movie? It will destroy your reputation." O.K., maybe I will make a bad movie. And so what? At least I tried.
[Q] When does your film open?
[A] Dec. 25. Why not see something for Christmas besides Santa Claus? "Santa Claus is coming." I never had any presents from him. He never comes.
[Q] You're a Muslim, yes?
[A] I'm not a religious person at all.
[Q] Your books denounce Islamic fanaticism, particularly as it curtails the rights of women. Is that your main theme?
[A] Oh, no, not at all. I don't consider myself as a feminist but more a humanist.
[Q] Still, in your work, you are constantly contrasting your love of food, smoking and sensual pleasures with the acts of self-denial demanded by the mullahs, like wearing a chador.
[A] It's a problem for women no matter the religion or the society. If in Muslim countries they try to cover the woman, in America they try to make them look like a piece of meat.
[Q] Are you suggesting that veiling and unveiling women are equally reductive? I disagree.
[A] We have to look at ourselves here also. Why do all the women get plastic surgery? Why? Why? Why should we look like some freaks with big lips that look like an anus? What is so sexy about that? What is sexy about having something that looks like a goose anus?
[Q] I never really thought about goose anatomy.
[A] I looked when I was on a farm in France.
[Q] Why do you live in Paris?
[A] I like living there because I can smoke everywhere, but it is going to change. Maybe I will move to Greece, because there you can still smoke everywhere.
[Q] In the end, there will be just one country left that allows smoking, for all the nonquitters in the world.
[A] Yes, and I will go there. Smoking kills you, but life kills you, and if you don't want to die, go into a freezer when you are born and nothing will happen to you.
<http://www.nerve.com/screeningroom/books/interview_marjanesatrapi/> April 29, 2005 Behind Closed Doors Noy Thrupkaew
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[Q] It's very interesting how women make use of gender segregation in Iran — which definitely can have its disadvantages — to create such a powerful and private space for themselves.
[A] It has always been like that. Even before the Islamic Republic, we were always a very traditional country. When you have such strong traditions, you have very extreme reactions. In such societies, discussion between the women is the space for freedom. These stories don't present a complacent point of view about women, that they are all suffering, oh my god. They're not victims. And I refuse it completely, I hate that image. Even in the worst days under the Islamic Republic, I never saw myself as a victim. We always have the choice to do something else, to make a parallel life.
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[Q] Is sexuality among older people more accepted in Iran?
[A] In Iran, sex is not considered something bad. A woman can complain if a man doesn't satisfy her. If you read the original version of One Thousand and One Nights, they are fucking everywhere. I mean, you have the robbers and the flying carpet and all of that, but basically, it's full of sex.
[Q] People might be surprised to hear that Iran might have more progressive notions about sexuality.
[A] In Iran, you don't need a prescription to get contraceptives. It costs almost nothing. There isn't really this feeling of guilt about the idea of abortion, even though it's not something the law permits you to do. All the friends of my mother have had abortions. Many of my friends have had them.
[Q] What do you make of sigheh [a Shi'a "temporary marriage"]?
[A] Well, that means they can marry a woman for one or two hours. If you are a virgin girl, your father has to give you permission. But if you are married and then divorced, you don't need a witness. You can be his wife for one day, or three hours, or a quarter of an hour, depending on what you want to do, of course.
[Q] Some critics say it's just prostitution without the economic exchange.
[A] You could say that, but imagine a woman who is divorced or a widow, and she wants to have a sexual affair and doesn't want to feel guilty towards her God — that makes it possible.
[Q] It's interesting how you're reframing it — most of what I've read about sigheh talks about the benefit for the man.
[A] All these points of view completely forget the pleasure of the woman. If the woman can also have pleasure in the sexual act, it can also be freedom. To be honest, in most of the sigheh cases, it is the man who has the woman. But a sexual thing is made by two people. If it isn't, yes, it could be rape or prostitution. But if you like him, you can also have satisfaction.
[Q] It's clear in your work, however, that women's choices and pleasure exist concurrently with societal, economic and governmental control over their sexuality.
[A] Absolutely. The day we can say that we are civilized is the day when women can have the same relationship to their sexuality that men can. If we could share the notion of satisfaction, we could be equal toward the notion of pain as well.
[Q] Why is it so important for fundamentalists — and not just in Iran — to control women's bodies?
[A] Well, in all societies, the base of fundamentalism comes from a patriarchal schema. When half of a society feels they are better than the other half just because they have penises and balls . . . you have big trouble from the second the man says, "I am the man, which means I am the leader of the family and decide everything." Big things start with the small things. If we don't have any equality in the family, how can we have a society of justice?
[Q] Your book has universal appeal, but is also very immersed in the context of Iran and gender relations in that country. What would ideal gender relations look like in Iran?
[A] They are already starting to happen. Twenty years ago, the thought of a girl living on her own without her parents, or with her boyfriend, was unimaginable. But now I know people who do it. Two-thirds of Iranian students are women — that is going to change things. In the past, most women weren't educated, didn't have jobs. You have all these rights, but what happens to you when you have been living with the same guy for fifteen years, and no education, no job? You stay with him even if you don't want to, because you are economically dependent on him. But these days, women have education and jobs. And in twenty years, when the law changes, not only will we have the law but we will be able to use it, because we have everything we will need to do so — economic independence and education. As for our patriarchal macho society, who brings up the children? The mother. The woman makes her son macho, calls him doudoul tala or "golden penis." If this woman is educated, maybe she will bring up a son who is less macho. For me, the education of women is the key — sexually, intellectually, professionally.
[Q] Persepolis 2 has quite a strong critique of the sexual revolution of the West and the sexual repression in Iran. I noticed that you often draw both Iranian fundamentalists and naked Western people without heads or eyes. Why is that?
[A] Because it's the same kind of intolerance, I think. The debate about the veil — I am not a religious person, all my life I've been fighting against it. But I can imagine that someone might want to put a veil on. To say that a woman cannot wear it is the same as saying she has to wear it. You cannot just forbid or force someone to do something. From the point of view of some Westerners, the woman who wears a veil isn't worth anything. But to sell orange juice or cars, you have to show a pair of breasts? Isn't that also another kind of veil for women? Isn't nakedness veiling what they really are? -- Yoshie <http://montages.blogspot.com/>