I made it! 31 days, and 31 books – admittedly some of them played fast and loose with the definition of ‘novella’, not least this final one. But what a fun time it has been, and has brought out some real gems – A Jest of God by Margaret Laurence was definitely top of the pile, but some other wonderful books alongside. Thank you so much, Madame Bibi, for creating this challenge and for doing it alongside me. It’s been really fun to see what you read, where we overlap, and where there are massive differences. I’m running out of novellas on my shelves now, but already looking forward to next year.
Today, I read a graphic work of non-fiction – Anne Frank’s diary, adapted by Ari Folman and illustrated by David Polonsky. I think it came as a review copy back when it was published in 2018, and I’m so glad I finally read it.
You doubtless all know Anne Frank’s story, and have read her diary – one of the great works of the 21st century, in my opinion, documenting life in a hidden annexe for a group of Jewish family and friends in Amsterdam. What makes the original book so incredible is all here – the extraordinary and the everyday, the teenage girl struggling against her parents’ authority and finding first love – and the girl who knows one wrong move would lead to them all being murdered. She is perceptive, witty, thoughtful, hopeful. And Folman does a brilliant job of keeping that all here.
It is shorter than the diary, of course, and mostly given in typical graphical novel ‘cartoon strip’ style, though some pages are given over to full entries. Polonsky’s illustrations capture the portrait we know so well, and convey the character and spirit of Anne.
In some instances (as explained in an afterword), they have condensed many entries into one illustration – for instance, Anne often compares herself to her sister, and obsesses over their differences. That was turned into this page:
I was a bit worried that this would be odd or gimmicky, or take away from the extraordinary original. But I think it’s a moving and beautiful way to re-encounter Anne’s story – a new angle on that testimony to man’s inhumanity to man, and yet the survival of humanity in the darkest of situations.
One of the books I got for my birthday in 2017, and read quite a while ago but have somehow neglected to write about, was a graphic novel called Mansfield and Me by Sarah Laing. I mentioned it in one of my weekend miscellanies, believing that it wasn’t possible to get in this country. Luckily I was wrong, and my friend Barbara kindly selected it – though was a bit surprised when it turned out to be a graphic memoir. I suppose I hadn’t mentioned my recent interest in graphic fiction and non-fiction!
Much like Mrs Gaskell & Me, that I wrote about more recently, this book takes the form of two parallel narratives – one of which looks at the author’s life, one of which looks at… well, the author’s life, but this time the author is not the one writing the book. Both titles put it much more clearly than I’m seeming able to describe! And so one follows Kathleen Beauchamp as she leaves New Zealand and becomes Katherine Mansfield; one follows Sarah Laing as she discovers a love of Mansfield, and how this informs many things in her own life.
As with any graphic book, a lot of the success of the book depends on the artwork. I really responded to Laing’s style, and each page is given suitable care and detail. I’ve read some graphic novels which are clearly done rather hastily, with proper attention only occasionally given – this is absolutely not the case here. It’s a beautiful book. You can see more examples in an interview with her.
And if the parallels between their lives isn’t as illuminating and beautiful as All The Lives We Ever Lived by Katharine Smyth (now my benchmark for pairings that work wonderfully), it does fulfill all that Laing claims for it. She knows they are not the same people, or experiencing the same things – rather, she sees how Mansfield has inspired and changed her, and depicts this delightfully. I’d definitely recommend to any Mansfield fan – and perhaps anybody who’d like to become a Mansfield fan.
Look guys, I’m not saying I’m a graphic novels expert, per se. And that would be because I’m not. But I have been reading more than you might expect over the past months, and I thought I’d bring them all together into one post – not least because it’s graphic novels week over at Vulpes Libris, and today I’ve taken up a lot to talk aboutPanther by Brecht Evens
Evens is certainly my first and firmest love in the world of graphic novels (even given my reservations about Panther), and you can see my thoughts on a couple other Evens books – The Making Of and The Wrong Place under my Evens tag. Discovering him made me realise that graphic novels weren’t all superhero cartoon style – which doesn’t attract me at all – and his use of watercolours really drew me in.
But it’s slim pickings, I’ve found, in looking for artists that I really like. I went through the graphic novel section of Oxford’s library and came away with only one that looked me-friendly (Are You My Mother? by Alison Bechdel, which was enjoyable if infuriating at times, and non-fiction rather than a novel); I went through almost every book in the graphic novel shop Gosh! and found nothing at all that appealed to me. But I did find the lovely Ethel & Ernest by Raymond Briggs in a little shop in Ludlow, and wrote about it here.
I seem to have better luck with graphic non-fiction, actually. I recently bought and very much enjoyed Agatha: the real life of Agatha Christie by Anne Martinetti, Guillaume Lebeau, and Alexandre Franc (and, incidentally, have borrowed a few graphic novelisations of Christie’s books from my friend Fiona, so we’ll see how I get on with those). This one is also actually in translation, from French, and translated by Edward Gauvin.
I was a bit cautious at first, because it starts off with Agatha Christie’s ‘disappearance’ – a part of her life that is so often returned to that I am completely sick of the whole thing. I was worried that the whole book would take place during those eleven days – but thankfully it does not, and there is even a fun twist at that point: Poirot turns up as her confidante. If that sounds hopelessly twee, don’t worry – it’s done in a fun and irreverent way.
The rest of the book is very episodic, and often jumps back and forth. It’s more a series of snapshots of Agatha’s life, from childhood to death, including various trips around the world. My favourite bit is when, on the Orient Express, she has the idea to set a murder there – and is immediately besieged by Poirot, Miss Marple, and Tommy and Tuppence, all of whom are keen to be the lead. Poirot’s jealousy of Marple in the book is an especial joy.
Obviously this is not the best place to learn all about every facet of Christie’s life, but there is still plenty here – and I liked the slightly stark line drawings and interesting use of colour. Lots of jewel tones. The scenes of a sunset in Egypt make the book worth it all by themselves. Do hunt it out.
What else have I read? Ages ago I got a review copy of The Bind by William Goldsmith from Jonathan Cape, and even read it, but didn’t get around to writing about it here.
I was tempted in by the fact that it’s set in a book binding shop. It’s a ghost story, no less, and a battle between rival brothers. The story was good fun – and it was more about the plot than any of the other graphic books I’ve read so far. I also really enjoyed Goldsmith’s subtle palette. It’s quite a contrast to Evens or the Agatha book, both of which I also like for the way they used colour; Goldsmith did everything in shades of umber and grey. It fits the tone of the book beautifully.
It seems that I am chiefly drawn to graphic books because of the colours and artistic style – even if those can vary quite substantively from book to book. I don’t only like bold colours, or natural colours, or sharp lines, or watercolours – but (in those age-old words) I know what I like and what I don’t like. And the look of a graphic novel takes precedent for me over the story. Which surprises me, rather, given my love of good writing. (Graphic book fans – where do you fall down on this scale?)
But I have my limits, it seems. I tried White Cube by Brecht Vandenbroucke, which is about pink twins (?) who have a destructive interest in art. It’s a series of individual pieces, rather than an ongoing narrative, and in it they basically approve or disapprove of artworks – and, when they disapprove, are likely to destroy. The humour in it is quite dark and violent – and often a bit obvious, though there are moments of wit that I did enjoy. Overall, it had something of the psychotic about it that was doubtless the intention, but left me rather cold.
So, there’s my history of graphic books to date. I can’t think of any others that I’ve read, actually, so I’m certainly not the most experienced at this medium – but it’s something I’d like to explore more, and had hoped to stumble across a new favourite when I visited Gosh! – but it was not to be, that time at least.
Are you enamoured with the world of graphic novels and graphic books, or have you steered clear? And what would you recommend?
I made it! 31 days, and 31 books – admittedly some of them played fast and loose with the definition of ‘novella’, not least this final one. But what a fun time it has been, and has brought out some real gems – A Jest of God by Margaret Laurence was definitely top of the pile, but some other wonderful books alongside. Thank you so much, Madame Bibi, for creating this challenge and for doing it alongside me. It’s been really fun to see what you read, where we overlap, and where there are massive differences. I’m running out of novellas on my shelves now, but already looking forward to next year.
