The Chinese translation is "I grew up in Iran". This is the first time I see an animated film made of this style of work. Although it is an animation, the content is very political. In the sparse screening room of BC in the afternoon, I couldn't stand up at the end of less than two hours, I felt that my heart was overflowing with too many things, and they poured out all at once. Made me cry by this movie. I wasn't even able to go back to reality for a while to fix the problem at hand. The reason for this is that many of the words it says seem to come from itself, or even for itself. Or in a way, it called attention to something I always wanted to avoid - I knew the process was going to be painful, and I knew that I didn't want to face it head-on because seeing There is more trafficking of some kind of pain, in order to draw a line with it. However, many things are really unavoidable. History and history are actually very similar, and the insignificant individuals in history are also extremely similar. That's why there are always sentences that evoke a violent shock to the heart in an instant.
However, this child is still lucky, because although she grew up in Iran, despite the hardships the family has suffered in such an environment, she still has the possibility to escape and make it happen. Because liquidity still depends on the resources it holds. After all, the girl's family still belongs to the middle and upper classes of society, so despite the constraints, there is always a way out. There are too many people who are suffering deeply and cannot see a way out. People with liquid capital have probably always had a hard time imagining those situations where they had to be imprisoned on one side of the land. Higher mobility may always be aimed at more powerful groups. That's why I appreciate Bauman's ideas about the distribution of power in liquid modernity. Looking back at reality, the same is true. There are also many suffering people, but we cannot see them. Oh I'm off topic, I probably get excited when it comes to liquidity.
If she hadn't grown up in that kind of family, she wouldn't have been able to hear the words "Europe is waiting for you", and she couldn't have heard her mother say to her that I nurtured your independence from a young age because I hope you can go abroad one day, not so young Just get married, and tell her before she goes to France that today's Iran is not for you, settle overseas, I won't allow you to come back. However, in the heart, probably no relatives want to be separated. This contradictory emotion stems from understanding the price of freedom.
But the sentence that I was an outsider abroad, and I was an outsider when I came back, was the one that defeated me the most. I feel that I have connections with both sides, but I no longer belong to either side, so I can only be displaced, even if I come back, I have to go out again, but I don’t go out to go back. Hometown has become a symbol. Others see "I" as the other, and the individual's behavior is magnified into a group. Going back has become evidence of their cross-border imagination. Yet your identity predestines you neither to be part of that, nor to go back. Displacement became a constant state.
Nowhere is home, nowhere to go. Maybe only doomed to wander.
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