Satrapi’s memoir is a trilogy, with the first book having the name of the entire series. I have read all three, but it is her childhood and its vivid recollections of loss, the haunting reverberations of injustice being rationalized around her, and the depictions of a young girl just trying to live her life that has me coming back to remind myself: the world is full of interesting people, and prejudice often blinds us to the good in us all.