“We experience a discomfort that may be foreign to others, but that pain opens up a world of beauty. Wouldn’t you think?”
Paperback, 592 pages.
Read from June 21, 2021 to June 22, 2021.
Childhood and youth are often reflected on with nostalgia as we age, even for those who have had difficult upbringings. Craig Thompson’s Blankets is a coming of age story in which he reflects on his youth with reverence, sadness, longing, and regret.
Craig grew up in Wisconsin in a strict Christian household with his parents and younger brother. Craig and his brother grew up like a lot of brothers do, a mix of roughhousing, shenanigans, and rivalry but as Craig gets older he comes to some harsh realisations about the abuse that occurred in within family, a weight that he still carries. As Craig enters his teenage years he is an awkward youth who has yet to find his place among his peers. During a stint at a Christian camp for teens, he meets a curious and intriguing young woman named Raina. As Craig and Raina get to know each other, their blossoming love is beautifully described with all the familiar intensity of a teen relationship, both sexually and emotionally. However, Raina comes from her own troubled home and while the two of them maintain a long-distance relationship, their home and family lives make it difficult to maintain. Craig’s relationship with also God begins to change, as he questions and grapples with the experiences and discussions he has with Raina.
The artwork colour scheme used by the author creates a perfect dream-like tone and mimics the blustery winter weather of Wisconsin as well as the fondness and frustration of being a teenager. Craig’s work is insightful, poetic, honest, and highly relatable. The story itself doesn’t feel tragic, though it has elements of tragedy, instead, it’s Craig’s matter-of-fact recollection of times gone and of moments of love, growth, and regret that he still holds close to his heart.
At first glance, this novel may look intimidatingly large but its content and beautiful imagery is devour-worthy and makes for a quick and pleasurable read. A highly recommended read to graphic novel lovers or for those looking to enter the genre.
“The half moon disappeared behind a cloud, casting the scene into darkness. The silence between the boy and girl expanded. It filled with memories of promises made, words that the world had broken.”
ebook, 300 pages.
Read from March 25, 2021 to March 31, 2021.
I’ve always been fascinated by the women on Jeju Island that, for generations, have been deep-sea diving to feed their families and community. This amazing group of divers are known as haenyeo.
“The ocean sucked each diver down greedily. But the women were prepared for battle. They swiped their knives at the fingers of the sea grass that clutched at them. They used picks to pry away shells clinging to underwater rocks. They worked the waters, humming the chants of their forebearing mothers, who had explored the deep before them.”
Set in the mid-1940s, Korea is undergoing massive change at the end of WWII with the forced withdrawal of Japanese that have occupied Korea for decades. Junja is a young woman who has recently joined the ranks of haenyeo after surviving the rite of passage from a treacherous dive. Junja, who has never left her village, convinces her mother that she is old enough and responsible enough to take the annual delivery to the mountains. During this trip, she meets a young boy named Suwol who ends up rescuing her from a dangerous situation on the road. Shook by the encounter on the road, she is equally as smitten with Suwol. Unfortunately, the quiet village where Junja lives is not immune to the political changes affecting her country with the massive upheaval left with the withdrawal of the Japanese. Nationalists now contend with Communists and the US troops have taken the place of the Japanese. When Junja returns home, she finds her mother dead. It was claimed that she drowned and was battered at sea but the real story of her death is much more harrowing. Junja is devastated. As she drowns in her grief, her siblings are sent away to live with their estranged father while she remains at home with her grandmother. Junja’s world will never be the same and she must make a choice and learn to get through the storm of changes.
This book started strongly and captivated me with its gorgeous writing and heartbreaking outcomes. The story spans over a few decades, as it begins with where Junja ends up later in life and how her story comes full circle in the end. The rich depictions of the haenyeo and their life in this small sea village are beautiful and visceral while the plot also highlights important parts of Korean heritage and history.
“Here is a secret: Long long time ago, when I was a girl, I was a mermaid, too.”
The last half of the book felt less cohesive than the first causing my interest to wane near the end of the novel. It’s still a beautiful story with great characters that paint a picture of a mythical, turbulent and resilient Korea. Historical-fiction lovers will enjoy Junja’s story as well as anyone interested in post-war history or coming of age stories.
Growing up in the 90s was hard enough but imagine coming of age in a new country that you didn’t want to move to in the first place, with a language you don’t understand…
ebook, 228 pages.
Read on January 21, 2021.
Recommended by a friend, this was a comforting read to have amidst another wave of COVID.
Robin Ha was born in Seoul, South Korea as an only child. While her father was briefly in the picture for part of her early childhood, Robin’s mother soon finds herself as a single parent, which, with the conservative views of 1990s Korea, didn’t bode well for either of them. Almost America Girl is a memoir that begins with Robin’s early life in Korea, the difficulties socially and financially that she and her mother faced. Then when Robin’s mother remarries they take a vacation trip to the United States to visit her new extended family, however, this trip abruptly becomes permanent. Robin feels immensely betrayed by her mother with this sudden and intrusive change of home that she had no say in. She is cut off from her former home and is not even able to get to say goodbye to her friends. Barely knowing a word of English, Robin details the struggles and triumphs she experienced as a youth in a new country, with a new language, a new family, and the reflection and rebuilding of relationships and trust that comes with time.
Robin’s artwork is clean, visually appealing, and easy to read while also capturing the moods and feelings of each scene and emotion the author was looking to create. The audacity of the move that Robin had to live with is one that is hard to sit with. While her mother did what she had to for her daughter, I can’t fathom how difficult it must have been to have your whole life turned upside down in that way. One of the redeeming factors of this story is that her mother does enrol her in a drawing class and it is the first place she finds some belonging in her new surroundings which ultimately leads to Robin’s art career and creation of this book. Robin is also able to reflect on the differences between the two cultures she grew up in as she revisits Korea as a young adult.
While Robin’s story of change is not unique in that many people are forced to sometimes make dramatic moves and face similar issues of culture and language, Robin’s story details the difficulties of such an isolating experience for those that have never had to face such an ordeal, and places the reader within her shoes, highlighting why stories like Robin’s need to be told. It also highlights the resilience that it creates in overcoming such challenges.
I would highly recommend this book to teens, anyone struggling with feeling different, or for any graphic novelist enthusiast. Further, I feel that this book would be a perfect read to have within a high school curriculum as it helps to build empathy and understanding for anyone that has ever been perceived as different.