STACKED

books

Brain Camp

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Brain Camp, written by Susan Kim and Laurence Klavan and illustrated by Faith Erin Hicks, is a graphic novel about a summer camp that is not what it seems.  Jenna and Lucas are two teens sent by their exasperated parents to Camp Fielding for the summer, a place that promises to whip slacker kids into shape while simultaneously turning them into ubergeniuses.  Of course, something is not quite right at Camp Fielding, and Jenna and Lucas get caught up in solving the mystery.  (As someone who always found the idea of summer camp slightly creepy, this book was right up my alley.)

Counselors at Camp Fielding sneak into the campers’ bunks at night and inject them with something while they sleep.  Pretty soon, the kids turn into hyperintelligent drones, and soon after that, they start puking feathers.  Eventually, the kids disappear.  While the plot itself isn’t terribly original – Jenna and Lucas are two intrepid campers who refuse to rest until they determine what is causing their friends to get sick – it’s done well, and the major reveal isn’t wholly expected.

The School Library Journal review of Brain Camp mentioned that the book’s target audience was unclear, since the summer camp setting seemed aimed at tweens and young teens while there’s a couple of sexual references that make it more appropriate for older teens.  I disagree – I don’t think older teens will have a problem getting interested in the story, especially since a lot of it deals with parent/child strife, and I don’t think younger teens and tweens will be really put off by the couple of more mature scenes (scenes which are all about puberty).  They’re quick and might even be passed over by kids too young to understand them.

Every graphic novel published by First Second that I’ve read has impressed me, and Brain Camp is no exception.  The plot is interesting and the art is better than average.  Hicks is especially good at showing a wide range of facial expressions that lend personality and depth to the two main characters.  The words and art work together perfectly to tell a really good story.  It’s nothing earth-shattering, but it’s better than average and lots of fun.

Smile by Raina Telgemeier

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When I was in 5th grade, I had my first trip to the orthodontist, and it would not be the last. From then through my sophomore year of high school, I saddled up into the orthodontist’s chair for the works: I had an expander on the top of my mouth to make the roof of my mouth wider; I needed braces to straighten my teeth; and I had to have the bottom row of my teeth pulled together to create 2 “front teeth,” since I had ever only gotten one. It was, in a word, miserable.

While reading Raina Telgemeier’s Smile, I was momentarily transported back to those times. This graphic novel follows Raina as she prepares to go to her first trip to the orthodontist. But it won’t be that simple: just days beforehand, she and a friend were racing in her yard, and she fell, knocking out her two front teeth. From there, Raina will need false front teeth, then braces, then headgear, then periodontic work, and finally, like me, will have a much-desired result at the end.

This graphic novel, besides being utterly relatable to anyone who has been through the braces experience, also delves into the issues of fitting in and being “cool” at school. Raina was very afraid to be who she truly was throughout the story, but when she finally hits high school, she throws herself into her passion of art, and she finds that she can make real friends. She doesn’t need to pretend to be someone she isn’t in order to fit in.

The art in Smile is sweet and has huge appeal for middle schoolers, particularly those who may never have tried a graphic novel before. Telgemeier is the artist behind the graphic novel adaptations of Ann M. Martin’s The Babysitter’s Club, and her fun, colorful, and somewhat fluffy style is highly appealing. This story translates very well to the graphic form, much more than I think it could have in a traditional novel format.

I would hand this book off to middle schoolers who are looking for someone to relate to, especially those who will begin the milestone years known as the brace-face years. Likewise, this is the sort of book I would hand to older readers, too, who can relive those years and be able to remember those days (fondly or not). There’s just enough lesson in here to make a point, and I never felt it came off as didactic. Rather, this was a candid and humorous look at one of the sweet little deals that come with growing up. This quick read left me eager to dig into more of Telgemeier’s books.

Graphic novels, manwha style: The Colors Trilogy

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I purchased the three volume manwha (Korean manga) “The Color Trilogy” by Kim Dong Hwa when ALA had it listed on their initial list of best graphic novels for teens last fall. A few reviews and the super appealing art style on the cover really spoke to me, though I hadn’t really been a graphic novel reader.

I’m quite glad I took the time to read through this series, with its richly layered story.

Ehwa and her mother live in a rural town, where her mother works as a bartender at a tavern. The father had died years ago, so this was the fate of the family: mother worked hard for their money outside the home. We meet Ehwa in The Color of Earth when she is a pre-teen. She’s a definite child, intrigued and naive about the ways of the world and her culture. But as that volume progresses, we see Ehwa learn more about being a woman and the role she will play in the world. We know this will be a true coming-of-age tale from the beginning of the story, as we are introduced to rowdy and raunchy neighborhood boys.

Ehwa, in her interactions with friends and neighbors, begins to suspect that there is a lot involved in the process of becoming a woman. And Kim, in writing and illustrating this complex puzzle, introduces the reader and Ehwa to the symbolic Korean flowers — throughout all three volumes, flowers play an intricate role in romance, in development, and in social norms. It is this that helps cement what could be otherwise lewd or gratuitous aspects of the sexuality in this trilogy as cultural and sensitive.

When we have nearly concluded the first book in the series, we learn that Ehwa has fallen in love (or like, more likely) with two boys: a monk and a scholar at home from school while he nurses a broken arm. Immediately, we know the monk is out of the question, but as a reader, I really fell for him — I wanted Ehwa to pursue that opporunity. And was I lucky since he appears a few more times in the series, but in ways that aren’t necessarily what I had anticipated.

In the second installment in the series, The Color of Water, Ehwa’s mother suggests that maybe the third time is the charm when it comes to finding a life mate. And indeed, a third male comes along — Duksam. He is a field man who will later be reassigned when a trickster tries to buy off Ehwa’s mother in exchange for Ehwa herself. Luckily, Ehwa’s mother will not let this happen, but it will be Duksam who pays a price for it.

Quite honestly, I never felt much connection to Duksam as a reader. I didn’t like him, particularly with the way he is crudely introduced to Ehwa. He’s a bit presumptuous and pushy. But, he is who Ehwa begins to fall for as seasons change.

The Color of Heaven gives a satisfying conclusion to this trilogy and is just as beautifully rendered in both words and images as the prior two volumes. It is here Ehwa will be betrothed and find out the reality of being a woman. She becomes a fully realized member of Korean society, and in addition, we see a satisfying conclusion to the romance that buds between her mother and a traveling painter. Oh, and our monk will reappear, though I was certainly saddened in the end.

The Colors Trilogy is a delicate story, with marvelous art and a satisfying storyline. It is easy to identify with Ehwa and her struggles, and it is certainly not surprising that readers will find one of her potential mates as a better fit than others.

Though the book does contain nudity, sex, and some frank discussions, the sheer literary merit within the story line makes them completely appropriate and well-used for a teen audience. However, this is a series that will require a mature reader to appreciate, and I suspect it may not be an ideal introduction to manwha or a satisfying reader for diehard manga fans. Fans of graphic novels may find this a good read, particularly those who enjoy the heavy hitting literary style.

Art throughout the series is gratifying, though at times it can become confusing to distinguish among the secondary characters. Ehwa is rendered throughout her maturation quite well. In addition, each volume comes with a small concluding chapter with discussion questions, definitions of the elements of graphic novels, and even some explanation of cultural issues. I loved this, as it really helped me ensure I was getting the most out of the story.

Try this series out if you are looking for something new and different, but be particular when recommending it. This could easily become a bore or uninteresting to readers, but those who are willing to be swept up in a lush story will find this a perfect fit.

What Graphic Novels I’m Reading

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I spent a lazy Saturday plowing through about half a dozen graphic novels – easy to do, since most of them were around 100 pages with about 20 words per page. As I read more of this format, I’m learning how to read them. When I started with my first few graphic novels, I had to translate the art into text in my mind in order to understand the story. I would literally tell myself, “She’s getting out of the car…now she’s walking down the road to the school,” and so on. It reminds me a lot of how a person learns a foreign language: first, everything must be translated into the known language, but eventually, the foreign language becomes understandable on its own. Now, the pictures tell the story for me without the need for me to create words as intermediaries.

Here’s a sampling of the graphic novels I read recently:

Outlaw: The Legend of Robin Hood
I saw the (bad) movie recently and needed an antidote. This graphic novel takes the legend back to its roots – no surprises, but it’s well-done and well-drawn for the most part (although I had a hard time telling certain characters apart at times).

Cat Burglar Black
The best graphic novel I’ve read since The Eternal Smile. Like a cross between Nancy Drew and Heist Society – lots of fun, and the art style grew on me. I’m hoping for a sequel.

The Hound of the Baskervilles
A faithful interpretation of Doyle’s story that retains the feel of the original, but nothing spectacular.

Orange
Absolutely incredible art, with a story that needed a lot of work. I wouldn’t recommend the novel as a whole, but the artwork really is worth poring over.

The Nobody
I haven’t read the original upon which this story is based, but the graphic novel is a great standalone – layered story and really evocative art.

Parade (With Fireworks)
A graphic novel that taught me I need to brush up on my Italian history. Hard to follow and I wasn’t wild about the art.

Flight (Volume 1)
The art is beautiful (particularly the cover) and the variety of artistic styles on display is impressive, but I would have appreciated more actual story in each offering. Many of the contributions were very slim on plot. By that I don’t mean they didn’t have enough text – just that the combination of art and text didn’t always tell a story with the requisite beginning, middle, and end. A lot of them seemed all beginning.

Britten and Brulightly
A mystery about a depressed private detective and his assistant, a teabag. (Yes, literally, a teabag. As in, what you use to make tea.) Sometimes hard to follow, but I really loved the art.

Mercury by Hope Larson

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Generations apart, Josey and Tara have more than just DNA and a family home in common: they’re both holders of a necklace with mystical powers that causes both torment and closure for their quests.

Intrigued? That’s the premise of Hope Larson’s new graphic novel Mercury. Told in alternating voices — depicted through panels set on a white page (Tara’s modern story) and panels set on a black page (Josey’s story a few generations in the past). Although jarring at first, this set up makes sense when one has read through a few pages of both. This method makes perfect sense.

Josey’s family is poor, and when a stranger named Asa Curry stumbles upon their Nova Scotia homestead claiming to have a power of prospecting, they are intrigued. When Asa really finds gold, well, things turn from exciting to downright ugly. Let’s just say there’s some death, some deception, and at the end, Josey is left with a very strange necklace.

Flash to the present, where we have Tara, who has lost everything because her house burnt down a few months ago. Mom is torn up by it and has relocated while Tara has reentered school after a few years of homeschooling. Tara’s Aunt Janice has found a box of old jewelry from her mother and she pulls out a strange necklace that seems to have a prospecting power to it. Of course, she doesn’t know this right away but instead becomes many poor students’ personal hero in the meantime.

Larson’s graphical style is very appealing, and her storytelling has a wonderful magical realistic to it. I thoroughly enjoyed the weaving of the past with the present, along with the tool of the necklace to tie the generations together in an unexpected manner. This was a well-paced book that begged me to reread, and reread I did. Because there’s the magical element, it was worthwhile going back to pick up the threads that lead to the exciting ending.

I found both Tara and Josey to be fully fleshed characters, and I found myself caring a lot about their individual stories. I didn’t, however, find myself connecting or investing much time into any other characters, though, including Tara’s love interest or Mr. Curry — that, I think, might be problematic for many readers, as he is an integral role in the story.

Mercury is appropriate for teens through adults, as anyone in those age groups will appreciate the art and the story. Language and graphics are appropriate, and I don’t think there’s anything surprising. This might be a good book to hand to your fans of magical realism, both in graphic novels and in traditional novels. You can feel comfortable giving this to those a little skeptical about the graphic novel format, as Larson’s a reputable author and illustrator and this book does not throw in those sometimes surprisingly revealing panels. We’re all clean here!