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Field Notes: Blankets by Craig Thompson

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Blankets by Craig Thompson is an autobiographical look at growing up and finding oneself through trials of religion, family, and love. The illustrations set a powerful backdrop to what otherwise may have been a cliched story line of teenage exploration.

This is a fast-paced graphic novel that weighs in at over 500 pages, but is one demanding to be read quickly in one sitting. There are moments forcing you to slow down and absorb.

Blankets is far from perfect, as it seems much of the growth Thompson describes weighs far too heavily in a singular relationship that happened over a single 2-week period with a girl for whom he had incredible lust. A little far fetched, I think, for what the rest of the story brought in terms of religious and family impressions on who we are as humans.

That said, Blankets is a classic in the graphic novel world and for good reason: it’s a well-executed story with much literary merit to the writing. We have symbolism, we have foreshadowing, we have a classic bildungsroman set up and more, all in addition to fantastic graphic elements. The text-to-image balance was perfect.

Blankets is a fantastic readalong to David Small’s Stitches and Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home. There is tragedy and an ultimately hopeful conclusion in each title, along with a near fully-fleshed main character. I’d venture to say Blankets would be a good story to get new readers into graphic novels — but only if the size won’t intimidate. It’s a classic story arc, though sometimes the fluidity can be a bit challenging (i.e., how one scene moves into another). Give this to fans of, say, Dave Pelzer’s A Child Called It. It’s not as strong a connection as it is with Stitches, but we’re thinking more in terms of reader versus the storyline here — this is where you can potentially pull in a new reader, versus someone looking for a similar story. Just make sure your reader does not object to nudity, as there is a little; it is not gratuitous nor overpowering. The language will be similar as that found in all of these titles. The ideal age is the teenager and above, though certainly it is more appropriate for older teens content wise, and the appeal for the actual story will trend older. Blankets is a reflection and as such, the more one can do that, the more one will relate.

This is a title I will pick up again in a few years. My reading my be greatly impacted and changed, and it’s something I know I can come back to with an entirely different perspective. It certainly will be a perennial classic for that reason alone.

Getting graphic again

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As I mentioned before, I’m taking a graphic novel course. This week, I tackled my manga assignment and did a little extracurricular reading I am very excited to blog.

Deathnote by Tsugumi Ohba and illustrated by Takeshi Obata is a manga I’ve read a little about before. And boy, I wish rather than reading reviews and stories about its history of run ins with censors, I’d actually read the manga. Take that to mean I may or may not have gotten a donation of most of the run of the books to my library and I let them go. Deathnote, at least the first volume, was really quite good.

A shinigami drops a notebook — a death notebook — into the human world, where it is picked up by 17-year-old straight-A student Light Yagami. Inside the notebook, he learns that this notebook is actually a death notebook that allows him to write the names down of people he wants to die. If he does not specify a method of death within an allotted time, the person whose name is written will die by a heart attack. To ensure that anyone named, say, Sam doesn’t die, the person with the notebook must picture the intended victim to ensure accuracy.

When Light gets the notebook, he is confronted with the Shinigami who dropped it. A Shinigami is a death god (aka: the one who does the dirty business) and he informs Light that he is the only one who can see him. That is, the only person who knows who Light can off is the shinigami; however, were anyone else to touch the notebook, they would be able to see the shinigami and the gig would be over.

Being smart and thoughtful, Light decides to use the notebook for good and not evil — he will be eradicating evil-doers. And he wastes no time in doing so. But the Japanese FBI will soon be hot on his case; even the evil-doers of the world don’t deserve immediate death. It is all too suspicious when they are all dying suddenly of heart attacks.

Deathnote was a super quick paced manga that really felt like a story out of mythology. Much of manga is rooted in myth and legend, and I felt like Ohba really grasped onto that. I loved the illustrations, which moved perfectly at pace with the story line. The shinigam is delightfully horrific looking, and Light wields his power masterfully for what you’d expect of the top-performing student in the country. Although there is clearly some violence in the story line, I didn’t think it was outrageous, nor did I find the concept of being able to kill with the deathnote as offensive as others have made it sound. I know this title is really popular, and I can see why: it’s something we’ve all fantasized about — not necessarily the killing part, but the power to do whatever we wanted without consequences. What a trip. I’ve already picked up volume 2 to continue this one.

As promised, here’s your treat. This week, I was able to find the new Stephenie Meyer goody on my library’s shelves — the Twilight graphic novel. Although I haven’t read all of the series, I have read Twilight and seen the movie. I feel educated enough to judge its merits as a graphic novel.

Let me just say, Young Kim deserves all the credit on this one! Twilight translates surprisingly well to the graphic format, and it is entirely due to Kim’s abilities as an artist. The illustrations at times are photographic quality; more than once I had to really examine the art to see if it was a photo or not. Bella is well-depicted, and I think that it’s a more realistic rendering than what K. Stewart gives her in the film version. She’s imperfect and yet intriguing, and Edward is the same way. Both look their respective ages, rather than older as I think they look in the film.

I’ve read, though, some of the art may be photo-oped — as a newbie to the format, this really didn’t bother me. For die-hard graphic novels fans, this will probably be irritating. You can read a fan’s critique here, and many of the points they make are clearly the opposite of mine.

Kim uses color very carefully here, and when it is used, it is stunning. The story in graphic format moves smoothly, though I found the use of the dialog bubbles distracting at points and even a bit garbled. A bit more editing would have been useful to make those issues less noticeable. Likewise, there were a lot of fonts used throughout the graphic novel, making that a little more distracting.

For Twilight fans, this is a nice companion, though I think some graphic novel enthusiasts will find a lot to like here. The story is good, but the art is what stands out. This will be a series, and I found myself at the end of this one clamoring for the second. Maybe that makes me an underappreciater of good graphic novels, but I’m an equal-opportunity reader. Bring on New Moon.

(If you ask, yes, I liked Deathnote more, so don’t worry – I’m not even comparing them in the least!).

Getting graphic

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I’ve read a few graphic novels, but I’m by no means an expert. Quite frankly, I’m undereducated in the format, so I signed up for a continuing education class through the University of Wisconsin’s SLIS program. As part of the class, we’re to read 5 graphic novels from a provided list; the overachiever I am, I have decided to tackle more than the 5 required (that’s why I paid for the class, right?).

Since many kind readers have been asking what I’m choosing to read, I thought I’d give quick peeks at my reading and my thoughts. Up first: Fun Home by Alison Bechdel and Runaways, volume 1 by Brian Vaughan.

Fun Home is a graphic memoir of Alison Bechdel’s life at home. More specifically, it’s a portrayal of her father. Her father was a master of appearances, keeping an immaculate home and facade built for himself and his family. As Alison grew up, though, she began to learn there were many deep secrets hidden in the family that revolved around her father. He’d been involved in a number of homosexual relationships, often with men younger than himself.

What works so well in the novel, though, is that it is also a telling of Alison’s own story of choosing to come out to her family. A handful of days following her decision to come out, her father was killed by a truck while crossing the street. As readers, we see parallels between her life and his, drawn out for us vividly in a way that text alone just would not render as powerfully.

Fun Home is a dense read. The language and the literary and cultural allusions some times went beyond my understanding, and I’m fairly well read. Whoever claims that graphic novels are a gateway to reading or are not deep has clearly not explored the format well. Bechdel’s work is engaging and requires close reading and analyzing. The art worked well for me here. But clearly, not everyone has felt that way. This book wouldn’t have worked any other way, and it’s a shame that it has faced such backlash. Fun Home is memorable in a pained way, much in the way of David Small’s Stitches. I’d consider them read alikes, though certainly for adults, not teens.

Runaways, volume 1 is the first book in a 10 or 11 book series — I say 10 or 11 because the series keeps growing, and it now isn’t primarily written by Vaughan. This is a series I knew a bit about prior to the class since it circulates so well at my library, and I’m regularly asked for the next volumes (which I, of course, purchase).

Runaways introduces a group of teens who find out one night that their parents are not who they think they are; they’re much more evil. They witness their parents kill a woman, and now, they’re out to get to the bottom of the story. Are they superheroes or evildoers?

Vaughan’s story worked well for me, and it was compelling enough to make me want to pick up the next volume to find out what happens. However, I felt the art wasn’t as strong as the text. It felt a little too juvenile for the story, which I found quite mature (and some of the allusions they make are, I think, beyond today’s teens — but clearly that isn’t deterring them from picking this series up). I kind of feel like this series might be targeted at the 20-somethings, but I’d need to read more to figure that out. Likewise, the colors don’t work so well for me, but they’re pretty standard Marvel style.

Vaughan’s book was a quick read, and as I mentioned, had enough to it to make me seek out the following volume, even though the art wasn’t what did it for me. In Fun Home, I was drawn by both the story and the art, but in Runaways, it was 100% the story.

Have you read either of these or another graphic novel that just worked for you? I’m expanding my knowledge, and I’d love any good recommendations you have for me. At Stacked, we’ve reviewed three and discussed the value of them, but I’ve read a handful more and am always open to more.

Stitches by David Small

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This week, the finalists in consideration for National Book Awards were named, with much kerfuffle over one title named to the Young People’s Literature category: Stitches by David Small. Throughout a number of list servs and through the discussions on various blogs and Twitter, it seems many are disappointed that a number of worthy titles in the Very Large category were left out, while Stitches — published as an adult graphic novel — was given a nod.

Since last year I missed out on reading the nominees before the winning title was announced, I have made it my goal to be on top of it this year. I’ve got Charles and Emma and Jumped on my pile right now, with Claudette Colvin available to be at work, too. Lips Touch, on the other hand, is going to require some hunting, as a prior attempt to purchase it for my library’s collection met with an inability to find it. I digress.

Stitches is Small’s memoir about growing up in an abusive household. At this point you’re probably thinking his name sounds familiar — it is. He has done a lot of work on children’s books, so chances are you’ve seen his work.

Small’s story is dark. His mother had a deep seeded hatred for him from an early age, and his father may have been responsible for him being a sickly child and ultimately developing cancer. It is Small’s therapist who becomes his real savior in the story. It’s the first scene between Small and his therapist that brought tears to my eyes.

Depressing and dark indeed, but an absolutely moving story with, I think, an optimistic ending. This is a story very conducive to the graphic novel format and would be one in which non-graphic novel enthusiasts would find themselves wrapped. This is the *perfect* companion to Dave Pelzer’s A Child Called It, and I think many of us working in libraries can attest to this particular title still being one asked for again and again by teens and adults alike.

This is where it is crucial to discuss category. Where does Stitches belong? Is it an adult novel or a teen novel?

I say it does not matter. It will find its audience.

We use categories for convenience, and as in all things in life, there are rule breakers. You know how there are men and women in the world? Well, there is also a whole spectrum between those two polar ends, even though we only have categories for those two. People who live in that middle find their way and find one another, even as they often have to dodge the bullets from those who see things as one or the other, not both or neither.

Stitches is that sort of book. And for that matter, so is A Child Called It. In the case of the latter, I don’t think anyone can say that the book has become lost nor not received any attention because it’s not clearly for a certain audience (or if it falls clearly into fiction or non-fiction – it’s a memoir!). It will have appeal for so many ages and readers that its classification does not matter. For sake of locating an item, we have to put it somewhere, but look: there is no “right” place for it. It will find its audience whether or not it’s shelved in teen graphic novels, adult graphic novels, or among memoirs penned by authors.

It’s also worth stepping back for a second and looking a little closer at the particular publisher here: W. W. Norton. Know anything about them at all?

They only publish one imprint and thus do not publish for any specific audience in mind. So, sure, this book was definitely not marketed for teens when it came out because, well, that’s not what Norton markets for any time.

I’m thrilled such a book has made the short list for the National Book Award. This sort of book needs this attention to reach the multitude of audiences it could reach. I think it’s quite an honor a book like this can make the Young People’s Literature category among so many tough competitors. Who cares whether or not it was marketed as a teen graphic novel — there’s something much deeper here than category or marketing.

Kid-Friendly Graphic Novels & Knights of the Lunch Table by Frank Cammuso

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Every two months, all of the children’s librarians from my entire system (73 libraries!) gather downtown for an information order meeting. One of the presentations at a recent session? You guessed it – graphic novels for kids. Our fearless leaders in Children’s Services have been trying to broaden the world of graphic novels in the Los Angeles Public Library. The battlecry? No longer will the Young Adult area hold a monopoly over the graphic novels! Publishers, children’s librarians, and patrons are demanding more content for younger kids.

I managed to coerse the graphic novel committee into letting me post their great powerpoint overview of the graphic novel genre and how Los Angeles Public Library is incorporating these books into the children’s collections… and programming around it! As a verified non-expert in this genre, I appreciated the synthesis of a huge amount of information into a simplified format. I only wish I could’ve grabbed some snapshots of the cute insanely cute crafts that were demonstrated. I hope you enjoy the efforts of Marc Horton, Eva Mitnick, Carey Vance, Joanna Fabicon, and Maddy Kerr – I know I did.

The September issue of School Library Journal reflects this trend. Peter Gutiérrez wrote an article entitled “Good & Plenty: It used to be hard to find good graphic novels for the K–4 crowd. My, how times have changed.” Okay, the title is a bit of a clunker, but the article itself offers a great primer to some of the awesome material for children. And I decided to challenge myself to read a few of the novels mentioned.

My favorite of the bunch? Frank Cammuso’s Knight’s of the Lunch Table series, without a doubt.

I accidentally ordered the second volume of the series, the Dragon Players, instead of the first volume, the Dodgeball Chronicles. No matter – the story was easily picked up without needing an introduction.

King Arthur and the Round Table seemlessly fits into this modern day story about middle school. Artie attends Camelot Middle School with his evil sister Morgan. Of course, there’s a Mr. Merlyn, a science wiz with a mysterious raven as a classroom pet. And Percy and Guen show up as Artie’s best friend and love interest respectively. That’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to references to the Camelot legend. At times, I really want to go back and grab my copy of the Once and Future King, just to catch more obscure allusions in the text.

In the Dragon Players, Artie finds himself in a competition of dueling dragons – robot dragons, that is. The bullies of the school, appropriately named “The Horde,” have forced Percy to build them a fearsome dragon competitor. Cammuso weaves the theme of duality from the beginning of the story to the narrative climax. I particularly loved the scene where “the ladies of the lunch” dispense a warning.

Arthur, King of Middle School,
Within thy heart, two dragons duel.
One is warm and one is cook,
In thy life just one shall rule.

All pretty standard stuff, right? Of course the mystic lunch ladies would speak in cryptic gibberish. But Cammuso continues the exchange… with an appropriate food-related sense of humor. This, of course, totally confuses Artie.

French fries… or veggie sticks?
Who knows which dragon you shall pick?
Chef salad… or pizza cheesy?
One is right and one is easy.

I couldn’t stop laughing, and then I forced several co-workers to listen to the dialogue.

A shadowy figure in the guise of a dorky kid named Evo shows up with an easy answer to Artie’s dueling robots dilemma. And of course, Artie and his friends have to go through harrowing hijinx before they must make a decision. Kids will definitely identify with Artie; he’s savvy, street-wise, but a little uncertain at the same time. Like most kids, he looks to his friends and his mentors for advice… but Artie can also look to his magic locker (a middle school version of Excalibur) for a more unique form of guidance.

The art is fantastic – the characters are drawn with deft, broad strokes. The coloring is vibrant, appealing to both younger kids and their parents. I’m not extremely visually oriented; I read text too fast. But I found myself going back through the pages a second (and even a third) time to absorb all of the small details in the background of the panels. The stories pertain to middle schoolers, but younger elementary school readers will eat up this series.