4 Thoughtful, Sometimes Funny, Always Beautiful Graphic Novels
I don't read many graphic novels but the ones I have, I love. If you're unsure of the correct terminology - is this a graphic novel or a comic book - here’s a description I’ve come up with from my quick internet search that hopefully clears this up.
A graphic novel is a full and complete story written and illustrated with a beginning, middle and end, much like a novel written with just words. A comic book contains a shorter story (also told using words and illustrations) which is a part of a longer narrative series. Think of the comics you bought when you were a kid. I remember buying the first issue of Nutty when it came out in the UK. I liked the Dandy too. And then there is, of course, all the Marvel comics, Batman, Superman etc.
Why Write a Graphic Novel?
Communicating difficult subject matter is somehow easier in illustrations. We connect to images in a different way to words. A written language must be learnt which takes time. To read effectively we must become fluent in that language. Pictures, however, bypass that process. We use our visual systems, our eyes and brain, to interpret images alongwith our own experiences. We understand faces, expressions, gestures from our day-to-day connections. When depicted visually we can connect quickly. Pictures can be powerful for those that find reading difficult.
Tom Mullaney, a professor of history in the School of Humanities and Sciences, uses graphic novels in his teaching.
Graphic novels use the visual language we understand by using scale, composition and geometry a skilled artist can create dynamism in an image, express all manner of emotion in a face, the physicality of a person, as well as creating movement and gesture.
The colour palette is a vital part of the graphic novel language. In Picture This: How Pictures Work, author Molly Bang describes the reasons behind her minimal colour choice of light purple, red, black and white as she takes the reader through the creation of a simple illustration of Little Red Riding Hood.
The List
Strictly speaking this list contains three graphic novels and one comic book but that made for an awkward title. I still wanted to include Making Comics by Lynda Barry even though its not a graphic novel. I hope you don't mind.
Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands by Kate Beaton
Published 2023
I heard Kate Beaton talking about her latest book Ducks on the radio one day when I was driving to and fro, doing the day's errands. When I'm grocery shopping I take a break in-between stores. I sit in the car drinking a coffee and listening to whoever is on the radio. I started doing this during the pandemic when grocery shopping for the family was something of a military operation.
I listened fascinated as Beaton described her experience working in the oil sand mining communities of Alberta, earning enough money to pay off her student loans. She was one of only a handful of women working there. In Ducks, Beaton details the experience of this environment with enormous respect and care despite the constant misogyny and instances of sexual violence she endured. Ducks shows us how isolation and disconnection from families changes people.
The illustrations that have stayed in my mind most are the large double page pictures that feature intermittently through the novel. They show a desolate, bleak place of imposing machinery, the ravaged landscape of the oil sands and the municipal low-level housing that appears more like a prison. There’s a visceral quality about these particular drawings I find compelling. Beaton’s use of a minimal tonal colour palette of grey, black and white adds to the austere environment.
The book raises questions, so many questions. It touches on the vulnerability of people who live where there are no job opportunities, the high salaries offered by the oil companies and the decimation of First Nations communities in the area where the people are subject to toxic waste in the land and water.
It sounds a depressing read and in many ways it is. There are moments of connection, of care and understanding between the people that work and live there. But I'm not sure there is hope. One thing is clear. The conversation around environmental concerns over fossil fuel industries is complex. There are many people that rely on this work to support their families. What is their alternative?
This One Summer by Mariko Tamaki & Jillian Tamaki
Published 2014
For a complete change of pace, This One Summer centres around the experiences of two preteen girls spending the summer at Awago Beach in Ontario. The story is written by Mariko Tamaki and illustrated by her cousin Jillian Tamaki. The two girls Rose and Windy have been friends since they were younger, seeing each other every year spending their summers at the beach.
This One Summer is the year Rose is twelve. Soon she will be a teen. Her friend Windy is younger by two years so there is a difference in their curiosity and understanding of life. For Rose she is becoming more aware of the adult world, their conversations, their worries. For Windy, such thoughts are further from her mind.
The two friends spend time hanging out at the beach and at the local store where they begin making their way through the horror shelf, renting DVDs like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Jaws. As the story progresses we see the tension between Rose's parents develop through Rose's eyes. She sees how being an adult is complicated. Between the two girls there are curious conversations around sex and puberty which parallels Rose's mother's difficulty in conceiving again.
The drawings are made in tones of deep violet indigo which works in beautiful contrast to the dynamic lines of some of the pages. The illustrations depict the sheer energy and chaos of teenagers. Much like in Ducks, there are double page illustrations I love featuring scenes of emotional depth that Rose is witness to.
This is a coming-of-age novel whose demographic is probably someone younger than myself. This doesn't take away from the beauty of the story or the way it’s told. I'm not a teenager anymore but that doesn’t stop me watching Stranger Things with my daughter. It’s good to read across age, cultural and gender boundaries. That's where understanding lies.
Chicken With Plums by Marjane Satrapi
First published 2004
I've listed Satrapi's wonderful graphic novel Persepolis in my post 8 Alternative Holiday Reads Inspired by The White Lotus so there's no need to list it again. It's good then that I have another work by Satrapi, Chicken with Plums.
The story begins in Tehran 1958 and Nasser Ali Khan, a famous musician is looking for a new tar as his is broken. Broken by his wife.
(In case you don’t know - and I didn’t - a tar is an instrument belonging to the lute family of string intruments. Check out Persian musician Abouata Mode playing a tar solo.)
Try as he might, Nasser Ali can't find a replacement with the right sound for him. Finally he buys one but only because it is the very best, he is told. He takes it home and tries to play but is dismayed. It seems the joy and talent he had for playing has left him.
He takes to his bed for seven days, depressed and full of despair. During his week of loneliness, we learn many things about Nasser Ali. His embittered marriage, the person who broke his tar and the love of his life who he could not marry. He has spiritual hallucinations where amongst others, Sophia Loren and the Angel of Death appear. We discover that after not eating for the first two days, he yearns for his mother's speciality Chicken with Plums.
I really enjoy reading Satrapi's work. Every panel is a lesson in how the simplicity of tools, a pen and paper, can create such magic. She uses different types of marks to create a variety of textures, the curling of cigarette smoke, the lines in someone’s hair. She often uses a thin white line as a highlight or to define a border or outline a speech bubble.
Nasser Ali finally dies on the eighth day. But the broken tar remains as a symbol of his deep unhappiness and the loss of his art and music. Chicken With Plums is a slim novel compared to Ducks and This One Summer but Satrapi tells an intense story of lost hope, lost love and a broken heart. It’s a story of how music and art nourish our souls.
Making Comics by Lynda Barry
Published 2019
There are a few instances around this website where I mention Lynda Barry. You can start making your own Daily Diary by following the instructions here or try this writing exercise inspired by her writing prompts.
Cut to 2020. There was a lot going on. Or not. We found ourselves in lockdown, sometimes more than once, often with more time on our hands than we’d ever had before, thanks to no commuting or going out or seeing family or travelling for business. I don't really need to explain that to you here.
So it was during this time of uncertainty, I came across Barry's newest book called Making Comics. I thought I might give it a go. I was looking for something different to try.
Needless to say, I never did write a comic but I did love reading this book. In between the inspiring exercises for writing and drawing your own panels, there are short personal tales and thoughtful ruminations on drawing. Barry’s particular line of thought is how drawing can act as a processing filter for any of lifes experiences.
Barry isn't interested in the skill of drawing in the traditional sense of western classical art. She is interested in why most of us tend to stop drawing entirely in our preteens. She wants us to connect again with that wild, untamed self that created stories on a page without worrying about how it looked.
In this book you’ll find exercises on drawing monsters, drawing with your eyes closed and drawing with two hands at once. This is about freedom to express yourself without the tyranny of criticism. Maybe we should all be making comics now.