Monday, November 9, 2009

Annotated Bibliographies


Barry, Linda. One Hundred Demons. Seattle: Sasquatch Books, 2002.

Part fiction, part truth, One Hundred Demons is an “autobifictionalgraphy” of Linda Barry. This graphic novel is a conglomerate of comic strips, scrapbook pieces and photos tied together into a child-like cartooning style. A Hundred Demons reflect the funny and quirky stories of the artist’s childhood of a screaming Filipino mother, a storytelling grandmother, and a look at coming of age. Influenced by a 16th century Zen monk’s painting of a hundred demons chasing each other about, Barry explores her demons in the context of her younger life. Barry's theme of coming of age and the awkward mother/daughter relationship are emphasized in her style of art. Pictures painted on yellow lined paper give the appearance of teen doodles in biology class. Colorful but not overly detailed, the two panel layout makes for an easy read. Several reviews also give a concise review of Barry's reflections of her younger years. Andrew D. Arnold writes that A Hundred Demons "masterfully captures that period in all our lives when we begin to feel alone in the world." The Copacetic Comics Company uses the beginning of Barry's reflections on the demons in her life when they state: "our past is always there, hovering just below the surface of our conscious thoughts, pushing our buttons and directing our courses of action, regardless of whether we are aware of or oblivious to this fact." Linda Barry's A Hundred Demons is not only a contemplation of the self but an invitation to the reader to do likewise as they read the book.


Chiappetta, Joe. Silly Daddy. New York: Reed Press, 2004.

This autobiographical graphic memoir chronicles the life of the Joe Chiappetta as he draws the failings of his first marriage, his struggling relationship with the daughter he adores, the meeting of his of second future wife and his paranoia with the American government. A story that holds to no single style of drawing but an exploration of the various forms of artistic expression, Silly Daddy is not only the development of the artist but also the growth and maturity of an individual into the world of parenthood, friendships and expressionist. Silly Daddy journeys back and forth from realism and fantasy and some may be interested to see how Chiappetta develops as an artist or become annoyed with the inconsistencies through the entire graphic novel. Chiappetta method of exploring his life through comics is unique and several reviews also report the same view. The Copacetic Comics Company dub Silly Daddy as "fairly unique in its combination of fantasy and realism" but Baker's Dozen describes it as "suddenly veer off into pure fantasy, simultaneously juxtaposing and skewering the social undercurrents of the then-current indy comics convention scene through the application of the conventions of the superhero genre, or perhaps suddenly jumping into the future while maintaining, and exploring, the mechanisms of memory and the autobiographical genre itself." Although Silly Daddy is a collection strips compiled together to create a memoir of sorts is is fascinating to see inner workings of an author both artistically but also intimately.


Katin, Miriam. We are on Our Own. Montreal: Drawn & Quartely, 2006.

Miriam Katin’s, We Are On Our Own, is a graphic memoir of the events that took place in her childhood during WWII. Escaping Budapest in the face of Nazi take-over, Miriam and her mother evade the invaders by faking their deaths while setting out to survive the devastations of war. In the process, Miriam reflects about her beliefs of God from her childhood recollections to her current situation of talking about God with her own daughter. The conflict is portrayed by the black and white images of her childhood with the colored pictures of her present situation. The story set in simple dialogue and blur-like drawings, give the impression of a child-like view that Miriam tries to recapture in the telling of the story. The squiggly font gives the impression of the adults' constant fear in Katin's childhood world. Much of the story is portrayed through the art itself, and Joel Yanofsky comments "Katin's drawings carry the weight of the book's suspense and poignancy." However, the jump between the narration of the author as an adult and as a child is rather sudden. A difference is created between these two time periods by color for the present and black and white for the past. This book could be considered a child's book except for the fact that several issues such as gang rape and some sexual exploitation are subtly presented in the graphic novel.


Pekar, Harvey, Brabner, Joyce. Our Cancer Year. New York: Thunder’s Mouth Press, 1994.

A recorded year of dealing with cancer, Desert Storm and the move to a new house, Our Cancer Year is a personal account of a couple’s struggle with cancer. Included in the graphics are also the stories of seven teenage activists from Cambodia and the Middle East that Joyce befriends. These teenagers become very much a part of Harvey’s and Joyce’s lives as Harvey battles his cancer and Joyce battles Harvey’s hopelessness. Set in sketchy black and white graphics, the art truly depicts the blurring of time and space for the couple as they lived from treatment to treatment. But the uneven and blurred lines of the drawings along with uneven panels brings forth the starkness of the couples life as they deal with physical pain and mental anguish. Joseph Witek finds the book ironic in context to Pekar's usual gripe about life that is found in American Splendor. In Our Cancer Year, Harvey now has something real to complain about. For all of its complexity, Our Cancer Year is a glance into the life of two ordinary people, or as John Hogan says "is most remarkable for its utter normalcy. Pekar is an everyman through and through." The only matter of complexity within the story is how the couple deals with life and with each other.


Sacco, Joe. Palestine. Seattle: Fantagraphics Books, 2001.

Palestine is an autobiographical comic of Joe Sacco's time in Palestine in late 1991 to early 1992.   Sacco's travels through the Palestinian community puts him into contact with Palestinian stories of brutalization, displacement, torture, death, unemployment, equal rights and while listening to these stories, Sacco connects and comes away with his own stories. Sacco is able to present, as in the words of one review, "the sensitivity of his handling of a delicate subject, as well as for the craft exhibited in his dynamic, sophisticated layouts and bold narrative" (Powell Books). Bold narratives draws the reader into the scene through exaggerated human features and the close up angles of peoples faces or bodies as they move forward in the panels. The review Read Rebecca comments on the power of images. At times, the power of the story found in words is left behind and taken up in the drawings. The reviewer comments that,"having the story partly told via the pictures made it less painful – and yet more painful: he [Sacco] didn’t have to describe the torture methods because they were illustrated for me to see." Sacco's Palestine is a door to the other side of the world and one approach of becoming familiar with political and personal situation of the Middle East.


Seth. It’s a Good Life, If you Don’t Weaken. Montreal: Drawn & Quartely, 2004.
This is an autobiographical comic about the musings of Seth and his obsession with a New Yorker cartoonist from the 1950s. As he begins collecting “Kalo’s” spattering of cartoons, Seth contemplates his fascination over the similarities of the New Yorker cartoonist’s works and his own. In the same breath, Seth also looks at his personal connections to the past and ponders his comfort with the days of yesterdays, his failed past relationships, and the reluctance of accepting the future. Set in colors of blue, black and white, the colors of the comic reflect the bleakness of Seth’s conversations with himself and of his friend, and his journeys of discovering Kalo. Seth's nostalgia of the past is also tied up with the style of his drawings. As Matt Fraction writes, "Seth's work feels out-of-time, anachronistic...and his writing balances sharp, melancholic introspection with a control of pacing and scene unlike almost anyone else in the field." Seth's desire for the old days and his representation of it in his art is quite obvious as one reviewer, Stuart McLean comments, "after spending so much of my youth hoarding cardboard cartons of comics, it was a grand delight to discover this comic narrative written for adults." The comic style, the setting of the story, and the reflections self set the rhythm of this Canadian autobiographical graphic novel.


Spiegelman, Art. In The Shadow Of No Towers. New York: Pantheon Books, 2004.

Each comic page is an art montage that produces a cohesive spectrum of the emotions the artist felt as 9/11 took place. These reflections of the artist's emotions and feelings during that time are brief references to the social situation during and after the 9/11 crisis among the public and political sphere. Spiegelman looks at the reaction time of the government, the public and his family on the day the two towers fell. Woven into the comic is the theme of the Arab and Jew conflict and Spiegelman, portrayed in his Maus form, is caught in between the feelings of tension. Scott Thill writes "Spiegelman's highly personal exploration of the horrors of 9/11 and how they nearly destroyed him...offers a more powerful criticism of postmodern America's state of affairs than most of those found in this season's Bush-bashing titles." Spiegelman explores the confusion, the raw emotions and the pointing of fingers through color, ordered and disordered panels and no set standard of characters throughout the entire memoir. David Hadju confirms that In The Shadow of No Towers is incomparable to Maus and that it "is a vigorously unorthodox work probably designed to avoid the comparisons with its celebrated predecessor..." These two review examples are just a few comments that look at the personal involvement of  In the Shadow of No Towers
compared to the indirect involvement of Maus.


Spiegelman, Art. Maus. New York: Pantheon Books, 1986.

Maus I is an intense biographical/autobiographical graphic comic about the artist’s father’s harrowing tales of survival in World War II Europe just before his and his wife’s entry into Auschwitz.  Speigelman chronicles Vladek’s tale of “how-I-met-your-mother” to the early birthing pains of the war. Mingled in the main story is the story of the artist’s unspoken narration of “surviving the survivor,” where glimpses of the artist’s own relationship with his father during these interviews are revealed.  Flashbacks to the past with sudden interludes of the presence show the complex and painful lives of both men and their attempts to deal with one another. Spiegelman's use of mice and cats emphasizes the stalking motions of the Germans as they hunt down scurrying, hiding Jews. Personifying humans as animals creates many meanings and as Michael Kimmelman, one reviewer,  concludes "Mr. Spiegelman rejects precisely the caricatures that are supposedly a drawback of the comic-strip form." The simplicity of the drawings focuses the reader on the story and creates a balance with the images, and as another reviewer writes, "compels the reader to keep turning the pages while terror comes to life through vivid illustrations" (Caribousmom 2008) Some may consider this autobiographical graphic novel too visual for children, while others may find the use of mice as men a balance to the gruesomeness of war.


Torres, Aliss. American Widow. New York: Villard, 2008.

American Widow is a memoir that encapsulates the entire 9/11 experience that turned Aliss Torres life upside down. The beginning of the box depicts an eight-month pregnant Torres angry at her husband as he begins the first day of work at the Trade Center. With her husband's death and the soon after birth of her son, the book marks the social and governmental hoops Aliss Torres jumps through in obtaining her dead husband's body and gain financial support for herself and her newborn child. The art of Sungyoon Choi sets the tone of Torres' story. Places and people are drawn in open spaces and some areas contain panels while other spaces bleed right to the edge of the page. The contrasting colors of black and white act as anchors against the confusion and chaos portrayed through Torres and her actions within the story.  The strength of the story lies in the honest portrayal of a woman in crisis, and as George Gene Gustines of the New York Time writes, her "willingness to address difficult issues, including her anger at her husband and her frustration in dealing with relief agencies that at times alternated between being overeager and counterproductive." But most reviews appreciate American Widow for its personal look at individuals who were directly affected by September 11th (Random House). This book would be appropriate for women (and men) who have lost a loved one in tragedy to relate to experiences of Torres in American Widow.