Just finished Persepolis 2 by Marjane Satrapi. While the book is not as powerful or compelling as the first, it was interesting to follow her trials and tribulations as a (now) teenager studying in Vienna and struggling to maintain her identity (as an Iranian revolutionist) and still fit in (as a drug-dealer girlfriend trying to be cool). I liked the original story much better and found this to be fraught with cliches. Yes, she is being brutally honest in giving us the raw truth of her youth-on-the-verge-of-adulthood, but so much of it comes off as whining and selfish that I am left unmoved and annoyed. Still, as memoirs go, this one is insightful and intimate enough to sate the eavesdropper in me. Grade: B.

Next up (upon the lavish praise and suggestion of Anju and Sarah): The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. Right after I watch Napoleon Dynamite, now out on dee-wee-dee.

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