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stephmostav's review
3.0
Uma releitura razoável da obra do Kafka, não apenas de A metamorfose, mas também O processo. Neyestani se aproveita da figura emblemática da barata e dos labirintos burocráticos kafkianos para ilustrar sua própria história como preso político e refugiado. Tudo causado por um mal entendido, cujas repercussões geram os melhores momentos reflexivos da história. Apesar de, por acidente, ofender um grupo social minoritário no Irã, o autor em nenhum momento culpa os cidadãos pertencentes a esse grupo por se sentirem humilhados com a representação de uma barata usando uma expressão idiomática deles. As acusações, ou ainda as aflições de Neyestani voltam-se todas para o governo que se aproveita desse caos para silenciar ainda mais todos os opositores, usando a prisão do cartunista como estratégia política.
Assim como para Gregor Samsa, a história do autor se passa num cenário de pesadelo, no qual ele se vê limitado às condições que os outros tem a oferecer a ele, sempre sem explicação e nunca com sequer um vislumbre de resolução. Neyestani representa bem o desespero kafkiano com o prazo indefinido de um julgamento do qual ele não é culpado, assim como sua transferência de cela para cela, de país para país, sem mudança alguma para sua tormenta.
O estilo de desenho é nitidamente obra de um cartunista e os governantes, juízes e advogados são caricatos até mesmo no comportamento. Neyestani também reduz a si mesmo no quadrinho a uma vítima das circunstâncias, sempre na condição de sujeito passivo que é submetido à espera sem fim. Sua resolução com a barata resgatada repetidas vezes durante todo o enredo é bastante previsível, além de meio ridícula. Ridículo também é o humor fora de lugar na maior parte dos momentos, como as tentativas de metaficção que destoam muito do restante da narrativa no qual esse tipo de experimentação não tem lugar. Também senti falta de uma contextualização maior, ao final pouco sabemos sobre as particularidades daquele momento histórico; poderiam ser inseridas nesses momentos de humor mais leve, em vez da utilização de referências genéricas e ocidentalizadas.
Mas o saldo final é positivo e Uma metamorfose iraniana é um quadrinho satisfatório.
Assim como para Gregor Samsa, a história do autor se passa num cenário de pesadelo, no qual ele se vê limitado às condições que os outros tem a oferecer a ele, sempre sem explicação e nunca com sequer um vislumbre de resolução. Neyestani representa bem o desespero kafkiano com o prazo indefinido de um julgamento do qual ele não é culpado, assim como sua transferência de cela para cela, de país para país, sem mudança alguma para sua tormenta.
O estilo de desenho é nitidamente obra de um cartunista e os governantes, juízes e advogados são caricatos até mesmo no comportamento. Neyestani também reduz a si mesmo no quadrinho a uma vítima das circunstâncias, sempre na condição de sujeito passivo que é submetido à espera sem fim. Sua resolução com a barata resgatada repetidas vezes durante todo o enredo é bastante previsível, além de meio ridícula. Ridículo também é o humor fora de lugar na maior parte dos momentos, como as tentativas de metaficção que destoam muito do restante da narrativa no qual esse tipo de experimentação não tem lugar. Também senti falta de uma contextualização maior, ao final pouco sabemos sobre as particularidades daquele momento histórico; poderiam ser inseridas nesses momentos de humor mais leve, em vez da utilização de referências genéricas e ocidentalizadas.
Mas o saldo final é positivo e Uma metamorfose iraniana é um quadrinho satisfatório.
bluepigeon's review
5.0
I met Mana Neyestani at the Brooklyn Book Festival a few weeks ago. When I said I met him, I mean I said hi, he said hi sheepishly and smiled, and drew an awesome cartoon by way of signing the book for me. He did not really say anything else to me, and I sensed that he was terrified. At the time, I thought he was just tired, jet lagged, insecure in his English, etc. Little did I know that he could have actually been extremely terrified when I told Tom Kaczynski (the founder of the publisher, who introduced Mr. Neyestani to me) "I'm a Turk."
The graphic memoir of Mana Neyestani's cartoon disaster that lead to his imprisonment and illegal immigration out of Iran is captivating. Neyestani's drawings are realistic and detailed with expressive faces and panels that make the story flow seamlessly. The story is timeless, sad, and universal.
One problem I had in the book was the fact that the reason why Azeris (who apparently call themselves "Turks" in Iran, and are referred to as such by government officials and general public in the memoir) would get so upset about Neyestani's cartoon was not very clear. When I looked it up, I learned that the cartoon drawing (of the boy trying to communicate with a cockroach) was accompanied with an article which really reads like an allegorical story. Sadly, in this allegory, some unidentified peoples would be cockroaches, with whom communication is "difficult," claiming they do not understand even their own language. The word used by the cockroach in the cartoon is apparently of Azeri origin, used often in Iranian (Persian) dialog to mean "what?" So the combination of a cockroach using an Azeri word and the text accompanying the cartoon with ominous undertones was the spark that got the Azeri riots going. Clearly, if the Azeri ethnicity was already comfortable and happy in Iran, this cartoon and article would not have such an effect (I dare speculate...) But apparently there was already a lot of discontent with the Iranian government among the Azeris, so this was just a good excuse (I do not mean to belittle any hurt or offense any Azeris might have felt here) to spill out onto the streets and protest the government with regards to its treatment of the minorities. So I learned all this from the internet (so take it with a grain of salt), but I felt that the memoir was not really clear about how the cartoon drawing was involved (there are attempts to explaining it, like the word is an Azeri word, etc. but there is not mention of the text that accompanied the cartoon). It is difficult to believe, reading a summary of what the article said and a translation into English along with seeing the cartoon, that someone somewhere in editorial did NOT mean anything by it. In countries like Iran (like my own, Turkey), things like this can and will lead to the press being scrutinized, pressured, imprisoned, even assassinated.
It is funny that the first thing I noticed in the Wikipedia article was that Neyestani was identified as an "ethnic Iranian Azeri." The memoir details how this came about, and I find it hilarious. Another thing that I found funny was that he is quoted as having said that he has many Azeri friends, whom he had no desire or reason to insult (perhaps a universal joke, like "I'm not racist. I have lots of black friends." or "I am not homophobic. I have lots of gay friends.") What is very interesting is that he is quoted to comment on the origins of words in Persian (I find that Iranians are, deservedly, very proud of their cultural heritage, including their language, so perhaps this acknowledgement that their perfect and rich language has adopted words from other languages [I dare say, languages that are considered inferior] could have caused offense to some Iranians... Interestingly, most of my Iranian friends adore French, and I wonder how it is to live in France, where most [educated, perhaps conservative] French will have the same sort of attitude towards Persian (French being the most supreme language on Earth, of course...) as some Iranians have towards languages like Azeri.
In the end, Neyestani's graphic memoir is a sad reminder of how unfair life can be. He has lived to tell the tale, which makes one wonder about those who have not been so lucky. And the many millions in the world who are trying to flee the unfortunate situations in their homelands to safer places. And though I consider him lucky, Mr. Neyestani might have a very different take on his situation; after all, he had to flee his own land, his own country, his own family, under very stressful and dangerous conditions, and now lives far away from the place he surely loved or still loves.
And Mr. Neyestani, next time you are in Ankara or Istanbul, let me know, and we will try to rectify the wrongs of the horrific stay you had there during your escape from Iran!
The graphic memoir of Mana Neyestani's cartoon disaster that lead to his imprisonment and illegal immigration out of Iran is captivating. Neyestani's drawings are realistic and detailed with expressive faces and panels that make the story flow seamlessly. The story is timeless, sad, and universal.
One problem I had in the book was the fact that the reason why Azeris (who apparently call themselves "Turks" in Iran, and are referred to as such by government officials and general public in the memoir) would get so upset about Neyestani's cartoon was not very clear. When I looked it up, I learned that the cartoon drawing (of the boy trying to communicate with a cockroach) was accompanied with an article which really reads like an allegorical story. Sadly, in this allegory, some unidentified peoples would be cockroaches, with whom communication is "difficult," claiming they do not understand even their own language. The word used by the cockroach in the cartoon is apparently of Azeri origin, used often in Iranian (Persian) dialog to mean "what?" So the combination of a cockroach using an Azeri word and the text accompanying the cartoon with ominous undertones was the spark that got the Azeri riots going. Clearly, if the Azeri ethnicity was already comfortable and happy in Iran, this cartoon and article would not have such an effect (I dare speculate...) But apparently there was already a lot of discontent with the Iranian government among the Azeris, so this was just a good excuse (I do not mean to belittle any hurt or offense any Azeris might have felt here) to spill out onto the streets and protest the government with regards to its treatment of the minorities. So I learned all this from the internet (so take it with a grain of salt), but I felt that the memoir was not really clear about how the cartoon drawing was involved (there are attempts to explaining it, like the word is an Azeri word, etc. but there is not mention of the text that accompanied the cartoon). It is difficult to believe, reading a summary of what the article said and a translation into English along with seeing the cartoon, that someone somewhere in editorial did NOT mean anything by it. In countries like Iran (like my own, Turkey), things like this can and will lead to the press being scrutinized, pressured, imprisoned, even assassinated.
It is funny that the first thing I noticed in the Wikipedia article was that Neyestani was identified as an "ethnic Iranian Azeri." The memoir details how this came about, and I find it hilarious. Another thing that I found funny was that he is quoted as having said that he has many Azeri friends, whom he had no desire or reason to insult (perhaps a universal joke, like "I'm not racist. I have lots of black friends." or "I am not homophobic. I have lots of gay friends.") What is very interesting is that he is quoted to comment on the origins of words in Persian (I find that Iranians are, deservedly, very proud of their cultural heritage, including their language, so perhaps this acknowledgement that their perfect and rich language has adopted words from other languages [I dare say, languages that are considered inferior] could have caused offense to some Iranians... Interestingly, most of my Iranian friends adore French, and I wonder how it is to live in France, where most [educated, perhaps conservative] French will have the same sort of attitude towards Persian (French being the most supreme language on Earth, of course...) as some Iranians have towards languages like Azeri.
In the end, Neyestani's graphic memoir is a sad reminder of how unfair life can be. He has lived to tell the tale, which makes one wonder about those who have not been so lucky. And the many millions in the world who are trying to flee the unfortunate situations in their homelands to safer places. And though I consider him lucky, Mr. Neyestani might have a very different take on his situation; after all, he had to flee his own land, his own country, his own family, under very stressful and dangerous conditions, and now lives far away from the place he surely loved or still loves.
And Mr. Neyestani, next time you are in Ankara or Istanbul, let me know, and we will try to rectify the wrongs of the horrific stay you had there during your escape from Iran!
janetlun's review
Memoir of a cartoonist who accidentally falls into the middle of a political controversy. Powerful.