GN Review -- Hereville: How Mirka Got Her Sword / Barry Deutsch

Okay, the tagline on this cover really sold me: "Yet another troll-fighting 11-year-old Orthodox Jewish girl."  Yeah, because there are a million of those in comics.  Or storytelling in general.

So we know the protagonist, at least, is a refreshing change of pace.

The rest of the story, it turns out, offers a diverse array of refreshing characters, situations, and themes, making Hereville: How Mirka Got Her Sword both entertaining in its execution and instructive in its assertion that imagination, bravery, and a willingness to follow your own path despite what others think are qualities that will serve a young girl well.

Mirka is an 11-year-old girl in Hereville, an isolated, Orthodox Jewish rural community, whose spunkiness and disregard for her village's norms make her instantly likable and worries her friends and family.  When she discovers a tall, strange-looking house in the forest, she and her friends encounter a large, mean-spirited pig who becomes a minor bane on Mirka after he sees her stealing a grape from his garden.  In outwitting the magical animal, she is presented with a quest from the pig's owner and is granted the option of pursuing a troll to win her own sword with which to fight evil.  Mirka must decide if the risk is worth the reward, and weigh it against her personal safety, the perceptions of her own strict community, and the memory of her deceased mother.

There's really no arguing that Hereville is a charming, unique and overall very heartwarming story.  The character is both engaging and an ideal target for conflict because of her unconventional nature in an Orthodox Jewish community, and her magical encounters add a generous dash of fantasy to a home life for which she otherwise exhibits little enthusiasm.  I had slight problems with some of the choices made in the story, particularly Mirka's decision to beat up her brother Zindel and threaten him when he tried to keep her from searching for the troll.  But this is overshadowed by the overall upbeat tone of the narrative, where her quest for self-discovery--and a sword--become her all-encompassing goal.

Barry Deutsch has also written some very amusing and memorable characters for this story.  My personal favorite was Fruma, Mirka's argumentative and wise stepmother, whose penchant for verbal sparring and discussion is notorious among the children.  The talking pig with whom Mirka gets into a sustained feud is also highly entertaining, as he is not only gruff and grumpy, but emerges as the major test of Mirka's willpower and grit.  Finally, there's the troll with whom Mirka duels, who is unconventional not only in appearance but also in speech and manner.  I won't spoil much about him, but I think he was a delight to read in this story as well.

As for the art, I was actually pleasantly surprised at how it struck me in some places.  It's mostly simple and cartoony in places, but at particular moments of strong emotion or surprise, the style changes, becoming more detailed and really making the reader take notice.  Of particular note are the moments when Mirka first sees the large house, and the fight between her and Zindel, when you can clearly see how intensely and viciously angry the siblings are at one another in the heat of the argument.  All in all, very good work here.

Overall, I found this to be a worthwhile and entertaining read, with a strong message about following your own path in the face of opposition from others.  Raina Telgemeier says that comics need more positive girl characters, and I not only agree with her, but also believe like her that this book is a prime example of that assertion.  Children of all ages should enjoy this, as well as those who like fantasy and folklore, strong girl characters, and stories about family.  Highly recommended.

GN Review -- The Alchemist / Paulo Coelho, Derek Ruiz, and Daniel Sampere

It's easy to lose sight of what you feel you're supposed to with your life when you weigh it against the practical demands of the world: other people's perceptions of what's right and wrong, your own personal economic situation, even your sense of responsibility.  When we're children, we often see most clearly what our own personal legends are supposed to be, but as we gain the means to pursue them as adults, we are often shackled by these worldly constraints, among others.  It makes pursuit nearly impossible, and their realization even more unlikely.  But when you can perceive signs demanding you seek out your personal legend, do you sacrifice reasonable concerns to do so?

That is the question posed in the graphic novel adaptation of The Alchemist.


The Alchemist was originally a novel by Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho that has gone on to achieve a level of worldwide acclaim rare among written works.  So it's not terribly surprising that, some twenty years later when the graphic novel format is becoming a more popular medium, we see an adaptation of the work into a sequential art narrative.  Whether or not it compares favorably to its progenitor isn't something I'm able to assess, since I've never read the novel.

The overarching strength of this story is in the writing, and more specifically in its message of the dogged pursuit your own personal legend.  The travels of the main character, a shepherd boy by the name of Santiago; the characters he meets; and his own travails that end up leading him "there and back again" make for an engrossing and intriguing personal and spiritual journey.  It's likely this message of self-exploration and self-awareness that I imagine is the main theme of the novel on which it's based.

I thought the artwork was pretty good, though Daniel Sampere's use of lines to accentuate wrinkles bordered on excessive in some places.  I was somewhat disappointed in how little exposure he chose to give to the climactic moment of the narrative where Santiago turns himself into the wind, but otherwise thought most of the choices he made suited the story being told.

A few things that rang odd:

• Name display: Coelho's name is the only one prominently displayed on the work.  Unless you check the inside back flap, you won't find the writer who adapted it or the artist.  Now, while I acknowledge Coelho's monumental role in originating the work--hell, I'll even argue that his name should be more prominently displayed than the others--I don't think it's any excuse for keeping hidden the hands who've actually sculpted the work at hand.
• The "I Always Wanted This" Syndrome: Coelho's assertion that it's been an "old dream" of his to see The Alchemist in graphic novel format.  It may be true, but it seems opportunistically timed, particularly given the setup of how the creative team's credits are (not) displayed.  It's like this particular publication has been all about him alone.

Overall, while this isn't your typical comic book, it's not a bad quest story.  The narrative is unconventional and well paced, the artwork is good.  I wouldn't recommend it to fans of traditional comic book fare, be it Eastern or Western, but I do think those readers looking for stories of a spiritual journey, or graphic adaptations of novels.  Recommended.