In the chapter Persepolis, Marji tries to get answers from her grandmother about her grandfather. Her grandmother starts talking about the Shah and his history. This frustrates Marji because she only wants to know about her grandfather. After their talk they go to the kitchen to wait for her father for supper, but he doesn't come for a very long time. When he finally returns they all cry out in relief. He then tells a story of how the revolutionists mistook a dead old man for a martyr, and the widow of the man told them that they were mistaken. They then called the Shah a killer and the woman joined in with the protesting. Marji's father, mother, and grandmother all laugh at this story but Marji doesn't understand. She laughs along to fit in.
I can sympathize with Marji. There have been so many times when I was younger that my parents or my brothers would be talking about something that I didn't understand. Sometimes when someone would tell a joke and everyone was laughing, I would laugh along just to look like everyone else, whether I understood it or not.
There is a panel on the last page of the chapter that says: "Something escaped me. Cadaver, cancer, death, murderer, laughter?" And then she laughs along with her family even though she doesn't understand. This describes exactly how I would feel, because I would catch a few words of what my family was saying but the words wouldn't fit together. Everyone thought it was funny or understood so I pretended I did too.
On the last panel of the chapter it said she "realized then I didn't understand anything. I read all the books I could." When someone would try to explain something to me when I was younger and I didn't understand I would ask other people questions about the subject to get more information. In these ways, me and Marji are similar.
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