Charming and enormously likable, Satrapi is liberal with cuss words, especially of the scatological sort. And though she has a healthy sense of humor about herself, she comes across as an irredeemable pessimist, so much so that she's been dubbed the "Princess of Darkness" by the London press.
"I just can't have any hope," she says when asked to assess the political future of her native land, or even that of her adopted homeland, France.
But for now, she's tired.
"When you do something like 55 interviews, you start to feel unreal," says Satrapi, who has also authored children's books, including Chicken With Plums and Monsters Are Afraid of the Moon. "Once in a while you have this feeling that you don't believe you are yourself."
She sounds frustrated, as if she can't quite enunciate what she's thinking. "It's as if I'm listening to someone else talking on the radio."
Self-identity, or more precisely the task of becoming an authentic individual, is a major preoccupation in Persepolis, which is such a delightful, compelling tale, it's easy to miss just how stealthily sophisticated it is.
Boldly inked in black and white, the memoir is a tour de force that made Satrapi an overnight sensation upon its publication in France in 2002. It has since been translated into 12 languages and has spawned a second volume, Persepolis 2.
The film, which draws from both books, has had its share of accolades, including a Special Jury Prize at Cannes, a New York Film Critics Circle award for best animated feature, and a Golden Globe nomination for best foreign film.
Asked why she chose cartooning, Satrapi said, "when I think about anything, it's usually with images. . . . If you can draw and you can write, why choose one or the other?
"Anyway, that's the way humans first communicated - on cave walls."
