GN Review -- Drawing From Memory / Allen Say

Drawing From Memory isn't the first graphic biography I've read, but it is the first graphic autobiography I've read, and has so far been the most interesting, if for purely selfish reasons. Its author, Allen Say, tells the story of his early life in Japan, how he became a cartoonist and eventually came into his own with the help of his mentor, cartoonist Noro Shinpei. It's a treat for anyone who's loved comics from a young age, a kind of spiritual vindication that the medium we loved can inspire greatness into adulthood.

A word about the format: it's not a typical graphic novel. Drawing from Memory contains words, and pictures in artwork in a more or less sequential format, but the text and the visuals are distinct, neither occurring in a common panel the way comic books tend to read. The comic book/GN purists out there might be quick to point out that this is more of a children's picture book than a graphic novel. My feeling is that there are more pictures with accompanying text per page than your typical picture book, moving the story along together, and therefore makes a hybrid of the two that I think deserves a review on this site.

As a young boy in Yokohama, the author learned to read well before school, making him popular among the local kids, since he could read comic books to them. After being exposed to comics, he quickly fell in love with them, resolving to become a cartoonist and practicing from an early age. This was much to the dismay of his mother and the displeasure of his father, who considered artists to not be respectable people. But through changing residences during World War II and his parents' divorce soon after, he kept hold of his passion, drawing in his spare time and hiding them from his father when he was around.

Soon after getting his own apartment at age 12, he seeks out tutelage from Noro Shinpei, a Japanese cartoonist of much renown. After being taken on by Shinpei, Say relates some of the adventures he has with him and Tokida, another protege of Shinpei's, and documents the gradual blossoming of his own style as a cartoonist. He and Tokida draw people on the street, get swept up in a demonstration against the government, and even get featured as comic strip characters in Shinpei's popular comic, "Demokurashee-chan." Eventually his father asks him to come with him and his new family when they emigrate to America, and he realizes that as the relationships around him change, he too must change to grow as an artist. The story ends with him leaving his apartment as he found it, as he goes to travel to America with his father.

Say does a great job of depicting the world through the eyes of his younger self, and gives all the characters around himself depth and relevance, however big their role. His mother, for instance, supports him financially from afar after her divorce from his father, but toward the end of the narrative shows that, while his life has been changing and progressing, hers has as well. Tokida and Shinpei are wonderful inspirations and support for the author's day-to-day experiences, and even the distant father who shunned him exhibits mysterious benevolence by inviting him to America.

My only real issue with this story is where it ends. I understand that it makes sense for Say to end the work at the end of his time in Japan, but it does leave some unanswered questions. What happened when he got to America? Why did his father suddenly ask him to come with him, after so many years of silence and a long-held disregard for his son's love for cartooning? I'm sure Say has the answers--this is about his life, after all--and they might even be in his other works. I just would have liked to seen them in this one.

The artwork and visual samples are very nice. Even though most of what Say draws is silent within the panel, he can still tell a compelling visual story without using words. His style is relatively simple, but very evocative. One of my favorite illustrations is the one on the cover, where he simply says he floated around his apartment all day, flush with pride. It's a wonderful visualization of how he feels, and fits the subjective tone of the work.

This was a wonderful biography that, like many good works, easily transcends the demographic for which it is ostensibly intended. At a mere 63 pages, it's a quick read, but packs a lot of emotion into its narrative. I expected to have issues with it due to its format, but the story of Say's early life in Japan quickly intrigued me, brushing away all skepticism very early on. For anyone who's ever wanted to be an artist, had parents who didn't understand their passions, or who simply like biographies about author illustrators, I recommend Drawing From Memory very highly. For those who might have issues with the form, I'd recommend giving it a try. Highly recommended.

GN Review -- Bone, v. 1 / Jeff Smith

In a fictitious land known as the Valley, the Bone cousins, white, bald cartoon characters, have just been run out of their hometown of Boneville when one of the cousins' get-rich-quick schemes got the townspeople riled. Now on their own, the cousins are quickly separated by a swarm of locusts, and the main character, Fone Bone, finds himself in a nearby valley, where he befriends several of the natives, including a young girl by the name of Thorn. After a period of months, he is gradually reunited with his cousins, who have also found the valley on their own, and together they plan to leave the valley and return to Boneville. But even before their reunion, it seems dark forces have been working against them, and their ability to simply leave is left in doubt by the volume's end.

Jeff Smith has created a story that blends high fantasy with the humor of cartoon characters, with mixed but intriguing results. Fone Bone is clearly a character out of his element, constantly struggling to make sense of the world around him, but whose cartoonish nature and appearance lend themselves to some very funny moments. For instance, when Fone first meets Thorn, the granddaughter of the amusing but mysterious Gran'ma Ben, he immediately falls head over heels in love with the beautiful young girl, with many of the cartoon exaggerations that come with it: his hat ignites flames when he sees her, hearts appear around his head, and he constantly forgets what he's saying. It's a what-the-heck moment that actually works even as it noticeably inserts itself in what is a merging of two narrative styles.

Clearly, Smith had thought out the larger story before writing it, as he introduces a wide range of mysterious, outlandish characters from the get-go, like the Bones, a cigarette-smoking dragon, Thorn and Gran'ma Ben, vicious but stupid "rat creatures," and a host of talking animals. With many of them, who don't have particularly large parts in this volume, the reader gets the distinct feeling they'll be seeing them further into the story. The artwork has a very strong cartoon sensibility; heck, I'd almost swear at times that I'm looking at prints from an animated show instead of the mere panels of a comic book. Smith is good at hybridizing and moving between visual styles as needed for the myriad of different character and setting types he brings to this story.

For my part, I don't know if this got off to a slow start, or if the overall tone of the narrative just skews too young for me, but I was not particularly impressed with this story. It wasn't bad, and I think if this had been introduced to me when I was in middle school or even high school, I probably would have been instantly absorbed. But as it stands, I can take this story or leave it. It's not bad, and it's certainly well crafted for what it's supposed to be. I'm well aware of how many awards it's won, and I know plenty of middle schoolers and teens request this series from bookstores and libraries, and that's all fine. I just, at this point in the story, don't particularly care for it.

Which isn't to say that I won't keep reading. Chances are, it'll pick up steam and I'll like it fine. It just may be a while before I get around to reading any further.

GN Review -- Smile / Raina Telgemeier

I will start this review with a disclaimer: I've met Raina Telgemeier. I've moderated a panel she's been on. I've found her to be charming, intelligent, and a total sweetie when it comes to discussing her work and the comics industry in general. So I may be a little biased. However, I'll go on to say that much more influential people than me have already lauded Smile, her autobiographical comic story. People who are involved with the likes of the Boston Globe, the New York Times Book Review, the American Library Association, and... oh yeah... the Eisner Awards.

So if I come off as gushing, hopefully it'll be the justified kind.

Smile starts off with Raina, in sixth grade, tripping and falling in a manner that does serious damage to her two front teeth and the gumline beneath them. The next few years involve repeated trips to the dentist and orthodontist for braces, headgear, a special retainer... and all manner of frustration and uncertainty about the fate of her teeth. In addition, there are other concerns for her to deal with as a teenager: friends, boys, an annoying sister, and fitting in. And an earthquake (the 1989 San Francisco earthquake, if I'm not mistaken).

As the narrative moves towards high school, Raina gradually gets a better handle on things. There's still plenty of drama around her dental woes, but she gradually comes to have a better grip on things. She discovers her interest in and aptitude with drawing, as well as a burgeoning love for the visual arts and animation. Her friends from middle school, who seemed to treat her in a distinctly unfriendly manner at times, are given the proverbial boot as she comes to realize that she deserves better than them. Eventually her teeth are shaped and bonded to where things look normal, and she slowly comes into her own as a young woman and a well-adjusted individual.

One common axiom in writing is to write what you know, and Telgemeier has deftly taken this to heart, crafting a story that is genuine, funny, and it times sad. She does an admirable job of translating the uncertainties and frustrations common to many teens, and magnifies them realistically with the uniquely unsettling drama involving her teeth. She intersperses other plotlines regularly, keeping the story fresh at all times and constantly moving her autobiographical self to grow and progress through or past the dramas that arise in her life.

The many minor characters are well done, and complement the narrative of Telgemeier's younger self. Her family is concerned, at times overprotective, at times annoying (for various reasons), and always a loving presence, whereas her initial crowd of friends are petty, insecure, and put her down at every opportunity. There are evil teachers, evil and incompetent periodontists, sweet and awkward boys who kind of might (but maybe not) like her, and a whole host of memorable characters who help make the story a delight.

Telgemeier's artwork definitely suits this narrative. The cartoon style is simple and bright while still retaining plenty of expression and depth. The level of detail she puts into certain elements, particularly references to video games (an approximation of a screenshot from Super Mario Bros. 2, the package to Wizards and Warriors), are particularly endearing to the likes of me, who grew up playing many of the same games she slips into the story.

I recommend Smile to anyone who likes a good coming of age story, autobiography-style. I think teens and especially girls

will identify with it, but so will anyone who has ever experienced uncertainties about their appearance, their friends, or their view of themselves. If you want to read an uplifting story about dental drama and coming into your own, give Smile a shot. Highly recommended.