Common theme across boarders: Exploration of Persepolis & Death and the Maiden

In this text, I will explore how the two literary works: Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi and Death and the Maiden by Ariel Dorfman shed light on women as victims subject to institutions of power during times of political instability or turmoil. In the face of such oppression, their victimisation is both physical and emotional and they often continue to suffer the consequences long after their violent encounters with their perpetrators. I will also examine the perspective and motivations of the oppressors, who are typically male representatives of the status quo.

My first extract is taken from the autobiographical novel Persepolis, in which Satrapi tells her story of growing up in Revolutionary Iran in the late 1970s. I will analyse panels from the chapter “The Trip”, where her mother, Taji, has been attacked and insulted by two fundamentalists for not wearing a veil.

Persepolis can be contextualised within an understanding of the underlying basis for the ingrained misogyny that partly led to the Iranian Revolution. The revolution began due to a conservative backlash against westernization, following which the Shah was exiled from Iran. Fundamentalists, adhering strictly to religious ideologies, strongly opposed the increasing rights given to women, including the right to vote. During the revolution, due to their antecedent dissatisfaction with the degree of freedom enjoyed by females, the army of the “Guardians of Revolution,” a branch of the Iranian Armed Forces, policed women’s appearance and behaviour as a crude means of upholding existing political and religious institutions.

Figure 1. Persepolis excerpt.

In this extract, Satrapi’s portrayal of her mother’s distressing experience and subsequent internal conflict not only conveys the tangible dangers females face living in a patriarchal and theocratic society but also shows how they struggle to reconcile their desire for freedom with their fear of violent backlash, should they choose to articulate their rights.

In Panel 1, Taji sprints towards Marjane and her husband, tears streaming down her face. While the emanata vividly portrays her fear and anguish, the white background conveys the casual, daytime atmosphere of a typical street, suggesting that violence against women is normalized in these times. Taji stutters through her fragmented utterances, “Two guys...two bearded fundamentalist bastards...the bastards...the bastards...they”. Here, the use of ellipsis highlights her shock, fury, yet at the same time, powerlessness. 

This sense of despair and realisation of how her resistance is futile is compounded in the next panel, as she collapses and Marjane’s father supports her from behind, subsequently putting his arm around her shoulder to lead her home. Her physical dependence on him, as masculine protector and ally heightens her feebleness. These panels also provide a distinct contrast with a previous panel when her photograph, taken at a demonstration, arm raised in triumphantly protest, was featured in European newspapers.


The explicit vulgarity of language used by Taji’s accusers, as they described how women like her “should be pushed up against a wall and fucked, and then thrown in the garbage” is intensified through verbs like “pushed”, “fucked” and “thrown”. The tone depicts the anger and non-negotiable brutality of fundamentalists wanting to consolidate their power. Women are little more than dispensable inconveniences in their quest for political control. The attackers’ self-righteousness is further evidenced in the imperative, “…if I didn’t want that to happen, I should wear the veil”.

The predominantly black graphic weight in the panels when Taji collapses and when she lay “sick for several days” contrasts with the first panel, creating an atmosphere of oppression and futility. In panel 5, this tension is concentrated onto Taji, who is foregrounded, dressed in black, in a position of helplessness and self-pity. Readers gain a strong understanding of her insurmountable fear behind her blank stare and speechlessness. Despite her strong beliefs and previous acts of protest, she is now forced to acknowledge her vulnerability. Her inability to reconcile her fears with her desire for self-expression results in withdrawal, passivity and possibly self-loathing.


The last panel depicts a return to seemingly normal family life in the Satrapi household, with Marjane’s father still putting a protective arm around Taji. An iconic bearded representative of fundamentalists announces on national TV the new decree that “wearing the veil was obligatory,” because “women’s hair emanates rays that excite men”. Here, women are publicly denounced for what is deemed to be their inherently corrupt nature, convenient scapegoats for men’s lack of self-control. Though the language is hyperbolic and thus dismissed as an absurd claim by Marjane’s father, the panel appears to confirm the authority of the patriarchal political system as it assumes total compliance from all women in the regime. Her parents’ exchange of whether all men are “perverts” also creates a sense of tension, as her mother adopts a critical generalisation that ironically, would include her husband.

Satrapi also demonstrates how women are victims of stereotyping and masculine dominance elsewhere in the novel, at times ironically enforced by other women. In “Kim Wilde”, Marjane was scrutinised from head to toe and chastised by a Guardian of Revolution for her Western outfit. The woman’s aggressive expression - raised eyebrows and wide open, glaring eyes, together with her physical size dominating Marjane, presents an intimidating and menacing figure. Her harsh tone and words, “little whore,” “shut up,” and “aren’t you ashamed?” humiliate and reduce Marjane to desperation, as she resorts to lying outrageously to escape arrest. 

In “The Makeup”, Marjane scapegoats an innocent bystander to avoid being arrested for wearing lipstick. While this incident again illustrates how women have to surrender every aspect of their lives to the control of a patriarchal regime, it also illustrates how such oppression results in women losing their sense of judgement and integrity. Unable to exercise their rights in their personal or public lives, women either practise self-denial or resort to subverting the status quo through deceit. In so doing, they risk succumbing to the very stereotypes that society imposes on them.

My second extract is from Death and the Maiden, a play set in post-dictatorship Chile, when the country was undergoing an uneasy transition into democracy after two decades under totalitarian rule. Here, the protagonist Paulina, who endured imprisonment, torture and rape during the military regime 15 years ago, alleges that she recognises in Roberto, a stranger whom her husband has just met, the voice of her torturer. 

Figure 2. Death and the Maiden extract.

Like Persepolis, the detrimental effects of political turmoil on women is also a recurring theme throughout this play. In the beginning of the play, Paulina hears “the sound of a faraway car,” and immediately “she hurriedly stands up” and “takes out a gun.” This instinctive and extreme response highlights the psychological stress likely faced by many women living in a politically unstable society, where threats to their personal safety are norm and their desire for self-preservation supersede all other considerations.

In Act 3 Scene 1, Paulina recounts the afternoon of her abduction, “One word and we will blow you away, Miss.” The men’s statement of fatal consequences juxtaposed with the casual tone it was delivered illustrates their thoughtless barbarity and the worthlessness of women in their eyes. This also shows how the power imbalance between men and women are reinforced through the use of physical violence in a time of military dictatorship.

In addition, Gerardo’s and Roberto’s misogynistic attitudes are shown through their use of phrases like “man-to-man conversation,” “she isn’t the voice of civilization, you are,” and “who gives a fuck what she thinks”. Only men are deemed worthy bastions of civilisation. Women on the other hand, are once again rendered voiceless and dismissed.

In my chosen extract, Dorfman traces this injustice faced by women to its roots: when granted absolute power in times of prolonged political crisis, men invariably give in to their primal sexual impulses. He also offers insights into how the exercise of violence can ultimately obliterate one’s compassion and humanity in a society governed by a ruthless dictator.


Roberto’s confession outlines his descent into violence and depravity while upholding the authoritarian regime. While he insists that his initial intention in taking the job as a doctor was a humanitarian one, “a way of saving people’s lives”, his role soon became much more sinister. As “the lights start to slowly go down”, he speaks of the “swamp” in which he began to sink. “Brutalization took over my life” “the virtue turned into excitement” and “it became a game”. His actions are overtaken by a perversity that numbed any feelings of guilt. This loss of empathy and insatiable desire for power is mirrored by the effects of lighting. As his confession becomes increasingly disturbing, the light dims, visually diminishing the sense of reality for the audience, rendering his character a symbol of countless other rapists and torturers operating during the totalitarian regime. The dark and heavy atmosphere also serves as a motif reminiscent of the trauma and agony that forever haunts Paulina.

The intense objectification of women is made evident through Roberto’s deviant sexual fantasies like, “How much can this woman take? More than the other one? How’s her sex?” Women are referred to in generalised terms and “sex” becomes their main, if not only, defining feature. They gradually become tools that are “entirely in his power”, so he can “carry out all his fantasies”. This underscores the dehumanisation of women and reveals how quickly power corrupts and strips one of all ethical principles.


The character “Stud” uncovers the crucial role community and environment play in this cycle of violence. His provocative comments of “Come on, Doctor” “you’re not going to refuse free meat, are you?”, “all these bitches like it and if you put on that sweet little music of yours, they’ll get even cozier.” instigate Roberto to give in to his primal instincts. The teasing yet challenging tone, in addition to the misogynistic and perverse connotation in words such as “free meat,” “all these bitches,” “sweet little music,” and “cozier”, represents the power of the collective masculine voice. Women are not only devalued, they are dehumanised and dismissed.

Male solidarity and their shared code of bravado eventually overwhelms any resistance Roberto might have and puts him firmly in the role of torturer and self-serving pleasure seeker.

However, Roberto rationalises his actions, normalises or even over-simplifies them to merely a “curiosity” that was “partly morbid, partly scientific”. His acts of torture are juxtaposed against the background of Schubert’s sublime work of art, reduced to an incidental “sweet little music”, which further compounds his depravity in the eyes of the audience. Yet, the surreal atmosphere of the scene draws the audience in and potentially implicates us in his corruption as well. The metaphor “mask of virtue” suggests how all humans are inherently frauds, seeking liberation from “everything they have forbidden”. Under the right circumstances, it seems that no man and perhaps no one, is spared this descent into madness and violence.

In this scene, the cassette recorder functions as a symbolic witness to the testimonies. The stage directions, “the lights go up and it is now dawning” at the end of the extract offers the audience a sense of closure. Roberto “writes on a sheet of paper his own words from the cassette recorder”. This process of recording gives accountability, signalling a possible end to the cycle of violence as restitution is made through the criminals’ collective confession and acknowledgement of the victim’s ordeal.

However, justice has not been truly accorded to Paulina and countless other female victims, even with the end of Chile’s dictatorship. Paulina, the only victim represented in the microcosmic world of Dorfman's play, continues to attend cocktail parties in spite of her ceaseless fear of encountering her torturer. She fails to achieve inner peace, as the commission’s charter was ineffective in punishing the offenders. In fact, Chile granted amnesty to individuals implicated in human rights violations during military dictatorship. The Rettig Report, supposedly aimed at creating a complete picture of serious human rights violations, also did not consider any cases of rape and sexual assault. In more ways than one, such injustices have continued unchecked on our world stage.

In conclusion, one can almost certainly assume that women are the predetermined victims during any political and ensuing social turmoil in a country. In such circumstances, men, associated with potency and physical prowess, are automatically granted unlimited authority, the result of which is abuse, violence and an endless cycle of conflict.

Satrapi demonstrates the systematic oppression of women resulting from a patriarchal theocratic regime; how females are deprived of their basic rights and their sense of self-worth determined by rigid religious ideology. My extract shows how men are hardly held accountable for their wrongdoings while women, struggling to express or consolidate their identity, encounter tremendous internal and external conflict.

Dorfman expands upon this idea, giving the audience access to the psychological perspective of the masculine oppressor to elucidate how one’s humanity can easily be eroded by temptation, especially when operating in a morally corrupt social landscape. Merging men’s humane qualities with their most depraved tendencies, the character Roberto exemplifies how such antithetical qualities can coexist within an individual. The backdrop of political turbulence allows for and catalyses the development of violence and lechery in men, easily defeating any tenets of humanity and civilization.

Therefore, both authors, through complementary perspectives, depict politically unstable societies as vacuums deprived of moral and accountability. In such contexts, women simply become the convenient and natural targets of men’s violence and sexual desire.

Reference List:

Satrapi, Marjane. The Complete Persepolis. Pantheon Books, 2004.

Dorfman, Ariel. Death and the Maiden. Penguin Books, 1994.

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