Iranian-born graphic novelist Marjane Satrapi’s most recent book, Chicken with Plums, proves to be her most ingeniously constructed work yet. The story draws on the final eight days in the life of Nasser Ali Khan, a famous Iranian musician and Satrapi’s great-uncle. Told with interludes of fantasy, heartbreak, melancholy, humor, and passion, Satrapi’s newest work, though slim in size, achieves an impressive level of narrative mastery. Unlike her earlier works, which were told as personal memoirs, Chicken with Plums is a love story and contemplation that places Satrapi far from the center of its concerns.

Marjane Satrapi distinguished herself in the world of the graphic novel upon the publication of Persepolis and then Persepolis 2, a two-volume personal memoir of her childhood and adolescence as shaped by the Iranian revolution. Woven within this tale of a young girl, the backdrop of contemporary Iran shines through in a remarkably captivating way, revealing a poignant and intimate portrayal of Satrapi’s own insight into the era. Persepolis is currently in production as an animated film to be released in 2007.

Now, in Chicken with Plums, we are subtly reminded of the political and social histories in Iran, a reality that Satrapi cannot ignore. It is 1958, seven years since Mossadegh, once a member of Parliament, became Prime Minister after having nationalized Iran’s oil, and five years since he was driven out in a coup d’état brought about by US and British intelligence forces. This historical moment is referenced just once during the entire work, occurring in the midst of a conversation between a disconsolate Nasser Ali Khan and a friend who visits him. His friend, concerned over Nasser Ali’s emotional condition, assigns meaning to his sadness by recalling his own disheartened outlook on Iran. He remarks: “How are you supposed to feel good with things as they are. I’ve really had the impression that since the coup d’état everything is getting out of hand…we are entering a new era. Personally, I have lost confidence in the future.”

Iran’s changing political landscape echoes Nasser Ali Khan’s simultaneous loss of hope for his life, his music, and his love. Satrapi imagines his fate inextricably tied to Iran. Yet, unlike her other works, Chicken with Plums is first and foremost a love story, not necessarily a work to educate her audience. It is this universality that makes Chicken with Plums a gripping novel.

The book opens with an encounter between Nasser Ali Khan and a woman he recognizes on the street while on his way to purchase a new tar (a Persian long-necked lute). When he stops the woman to ask if her name is Irane, she gives him a puzzled but apologetic look and admits to not remembering him. They both move on and we are left to contemplate the significance of this interaction until much later.

When Nasser Ali continues on his search for a new tar, we learn that his own has been broken with no hope for repair. Despite his prolonged search for a replacement, he cannot seem to find another that recreates his music and his love as divinely. Satrapi skillfully illustrates his discontent with a tar that was promised to be exceptional. As he plays the instrument, Nasser Ali’s face grows from stillness to anxiety to despair, while the musical notes escaping from the tar gradually shrivel up, becoming unrecognizable. Here as in many other instances, Satrapi’s carefully placed strokes never fail to arouse emotional depth.

Nasser Ali finally surrenders to his plight, giving up all hope for life: “Since no other tar could give him the pleasure of playing, Nasser Ali Khan decided to die . . . Eight days later, November 22, 1958, he was buried beside his mother . . . All those who had known him were present that day.” Satrapi depicts the burial scene on a full page; Nasser Ali Khan’s grave is surrounded by mourning onlookers.

We are then taken back in time to revisit each of the eight days leading up to the death of Nasser Ali Khan. The following eight chapters are each marked by a stirring full-page drawing of Nasser Ali Khan as his face accumulates stubble and his eyes grow darker and wearier. The structure of Satrapi’s work is unusual and exciting. In knowing the fate of Nasser Ali Khan, we gaze upon his last days with a desire to understand his past, not to hasten his death. Yet, we have no control over his destiny.

It is in these chapters that we gain insight into Nasser Ali’s relationship with his family, his music, and his love. Satrapi takes us through tellings and retellings of events, memories, fantasies, flashbacks, and flash-forwards, creating a multi-layered understanding of what leads Nasser Ali Khan to his death.

On the first day we learn of Nasser Ali’s affection for his daughter Farzaneh, a closeness he rationalizes by their physical resemblance. Nasser Ali however openly dislikes his son Mozaffar, who happens to be the only family member praying to keep his father alive.

The second day features a visit from Nasser Ali Khan’s brother, Abdi. Here, we revisit the past, differentiated by a black background, to share in a glimpse of the complicated relationship between the brothers. From a sequence of short flashbacks Satrapi stunningly recreates their childhood, bringing to our attention the lop-sided affection Nasser Ali received from his mother. The day ends with Nasser Ali Khan dreaming of his favorite food, chicken with plums. Dream leads to fantasy as the dish transforms into the breasts and naked body of Sophia Loren who calls him closer. This is perhaps the last moment of pleasure he experiences.

Nasser Ali’s relationship with his wife Nahid is filled with rage and misunderstanding. On the third day, she serves him his favorite dish, chicken with plums. He spits it out with disgust, feeling no pleasure, and declares: “I’ve lost my ability to taste, to savor, to enjoy! And it’s all your fault!” We are launched into a series of flashbacks that begins with an argument leading to the moment when Nahid breaks Nasser Ali’s tar. When he is not able to forgive her, she recalls the story of her love for him. While Nahid drifts into her own worlds of memories, Nasser Ali simultaneously recollects his own love story. While away studying tar as a young man he fell in love with a woman named Irane. Irane’s father forbade their marriage long ago after learning that Nasser Ali was merely an artist. Nasser Ali fell into despair. Concurrently Nahid learned of his return and was filled with the joy of their possible marriage. The intertwining of these memories is accomplished flawlessly, escalating to the present moment when Nasser Ali’s anger at his wife reaches its height. He exclaims, “I don’t love you . . . I never loved you.”  

And yet, Nasser Ali has somehow kept alive his love for Irane. While suffering through his love, he played the tar brilliantly, reaching the peak of his career. His own teacher admitted that there was nothing more for him to learn. He told Nasser Ali: “The love that you feel for this woman will translate into your music. She will be in every note that you play.” Invested in his prized tar were not only his music but also his love for and memory of Irane.

Satrapi leads us to an especially sorrowful conclusion. The opening page of Chicken with Plums is revisited, this time drawn from the perspective of Irane. When she is stopped by Nasser Ali on the street, she does not recognize him at first. It is only until after they have parted that she realizes too late who he was. Nasser Ali returns home miserable, thinking that Irane had forgotten the love they had shared. On the eighth day, Nasser Ali Khan dies from both this realization and his broken tar, a symbol of his love for Irane. Since he can no longer create music and evoke this love, he finds no reason to live. In rejecting pleasure he ushers in his own death. Satrapi’s final page is a second rendering of Nassar Ali Khan’s burial scene. This time, only Irane’s face is visible while all the others are drawn as silhouettes.

Marjane Satrapi has created a complex tale of the artist who is somehow both egocentric and charismatic. Just as Nasser Ali settles upon his own fate, Satrapi works to unravel it, exposing the various possible stories hidden within. In this way, Satrapi has the power to manipulate his story in a way that would be less possible in a personal memoir. The strength of this graphic novel is found in the way Satrapi effortlessly crafts a layered narrative that shifts between multiple moments in time. Each account, flashback, and fantasy invests Chicken with Plums with new meanings for Nasser Ali Khan’s life and death.  Perhaps appropriately crowned the “Princess of Darkness” by London’s The Independent, Satrapi lets us unfold these layers to reveal a remarkably dark, poetic, painful yet fascinating story of love.