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Tasty followup to Persepolis

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I get nervous when reading new materials from a favorite author, in this case, the post-Persepolis Marjane Satrapi. But "Chicken with Plums" preserves the style and outlook of Satrapi's earlier work without being derivative.

In this book, we meet Nasser Ali, a sensitive yet narcissistic Iranian musician trying to locate a new instrument to replace his broken "tar". Along the way, we learn of his tempestuous family life, his true love, his reluctant courtship and his (mostly) faithless children. It is the misfortune of Ali's family and friends that he leaves a string of broken lives in his wake. Satrapi does a wonderful job of narrating the last days of this selfish and myopic anti-hero, using her trademark black-and-white ink drawings, her fertile wit and marvelous ability to tell complex stories with simplicity, dark humor and immediacy.

More of the same from Satrapi.

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Marjane Satrapi, Chicken with Plums (Pantheon, 2006)

Satrapi's fourth book gives us biography instead of memoir this time-- the story of her great-uncle Nasser Ali Khan, a musician who decides to die after his wife breaks his favorite instrument. We are taken through the final eight days of Khan's life, as friends, relatives, and his own consciousness try to change his mind.

I admit that my somewhat cool reaction to the book is almost certainly a product of the complete overload of memoirs and memoir-like biographies with which the market is currently glutted; I'm relatively sure this will be my last one for a long, long while, save one series-memoir I'm in the middle of. I say this because it's certainly not a bad book; Marjane Satrapi is a witty writer, and no less here than in her other books; Chicken with Plums is as enjoyable as anything else she's done. I just couldn't get my head round it as much as it deserved. ***

Nothing to Live For

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This is a story of a man who lives for music and a tragic love. It is a very simple yet wonderful tale of a man who doesn't seem to know how to live. He becomes a great musician but can't work and loses the love of his life due to his devotion to music. Without music and his memory of great love, he dies. The man's family, friends and relatives don't seem to count in his estimation of life. I found this book very moving and very touching. I think some reviewers took offense since it differs from her most famous book but this one holds its own and is very special. I highly recommend this book. It is very touching and the ending is just as tragic as the main character's life.

An intimate portrait of a life

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I just finished Chicken with Plums, and I loved it. It has about a human condition. In this case a man, who is living a life that he felt he did not own, except his musical instrument, and the secret it held for him.
It is deceptively simple, but it is deep in what it conveys to the reader.
I noticed some readers felt that the book was not finished, or they were confused about it. However, I found it very clear, honest, and funny at times. It made me sad too. I wonder how many of us live a life like Nasser Ali Khan, the musician? The life that is not truly an expression of our hearts.

A Magical Improvisation on Family History

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Having read Persepolis I and II, as well as Embroideries, I was excited to snatch up Chicken With Plums as well. And despite some of the negative reviews here (which almost dissauded me), I found this book one of Satrapi's most magical, perfect creations. It's quite different than the autobiographical, child-like Persepolis I, though readers of Persepolis II and Embroideries will recognize the general tone and style. That said, it's a work that takes you by surprise with its directness, honesty, and sheer invention.

The book follows the last eight days of Nasser Ali Khan's life, as he decides to resign himself to death after his wife, in an argument, destroys his precious "tar"--an Iranian sitar-like instrument. He is a master musician, renowned throughout the country, and the great love affair of his life (despite one thwarted human one) was with this reciprocating instrument. Unable to find another tar to requite his passion, he loses all taste for life and its joys, and decides to stay in bed until Azrael, the Angel of Death, comes for his soul. While waiting, we get a series of flashbacks and flashforwards as he--and others--recount the stories and anecdotes that frame his life. Reading this book is like listening in on family stories around the dinner table, which by their very nature are fragmentary, interrputed, and from multiple points of view.

Though a simple story, the manner of telling it is amazingly complex and mesmerizing. Satrapi's storytelling is at its most concise here, but so much is revealed about the very human passions that shape a life, and how blind we are even to the people we live with. This is a magical book, filled with Satrapi's beautiful characterizations of the people she knew and loved. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.