Monday, March 2, 2020

persepolis, dare to disappoint, and capernaum

This week we read Persepolis and Dare to Disappoint, two beautifully, cleverly narrated stories of growing up. I only formed this sentence to be able to compliment these works before I start.

I have many questions, and I want to explore them by introducing Capernaum (Capharnaüm) into the discussion. Capernaum is a 2018 movie by Nadine Labaki, telling the story of Zain, a Lebanese boy. The main event is Zain suing his parents for having him (“Why do you want to sue your parents?” “Because I was born”), while we see his life full of poverty, violence, and many other hardships. It won the jury prize at Cannes and was clapped on foot for a long time (15 minutes, I think it broke a record?). 

Here, check the trailer if you have time (the lead actor is so so good):

Now. This movie is said to “hit hard”, and it does. I can’t describe all the dense feelings I had the first time I saw it. Though I don’t want having feeling towards (or “liking”) something to stop me from questioning it. 

All of the three works have received immensely positive reactions from a Western audience.
Yet, there are differences (and similarities) as to how they do that.

Let’s start with the similarities.

-They all have (or at least start with) children as the protagonists. This is crucial, as children are often seen as relatable blank slates born into those oppressive environments by chance. They attract affection.

-They use “universal” languages. This is not only literally the language (French for Persepolis, English for Dare to Disappoint), but also the use of references, terms, and mediums that are familiar to the “universal” (Western, historically dominantly male) subject. 

What makes the two books different and better (terrible choice of word) in my opinion is that they allow nuances (by far one of the most important concepts that the scholars we read point out the lack and need of). 

Being autobiographies, they have ups and downs, just like...life.
The oppressive father of Özge is not necessarily evil, there is a context behind his behavior, and still, this does not mean he is completely right and must be obeyed to.
Not just for the father, there is a context for many of the social events and practices in both works. Context is not equal to acceptance, but it exists. It is inseparable. 
In Persepolis, there are people having fun in the midst of “all the tragedy”. There are actual PEOPLE living lives with actual feelings of joy, shame, excitement, regret, frustration and many more. 
Islam or nationalism is not simply accepted/rejected, but the narrators have complicated and evolving relationships with them.

Whereas in Capernaum, there is a stronger sense of some “evil” entity, bad people doing bad things (Zain’s 11-year-old sister being married off to the landlord’s son), apparently because they are bad. It is a bad world where the bad holds power. Zain, however, is a resisting hero. Empathy and pity arise towards the boy struggling in this alien world. 
With this approach, “the problem” becomes the parents having children into this cruel world, and you get comments like: “this is so real. some parents do not deserve to have children😢” (copy-pasted).
The audience understands, yes, things are bad, but does the solution really lie in preventing people from having children? Of judging the parents who if their stories were told, the audience would also feel bad for?
(Many woke modern people think so)

And oh, criticizing works of art, sorry, Art, with their possible political interpretations accepting that they inevitably serve as political tools? That is scary for an artist (wow I just called myself one) “just wanting to do art”.

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