Friday, August 09, 2024

Graphic novels for APAHM 2024

Remember, the reading for this round mostly goes back to 2021. Over that time period, I came across a lot of graphic novels. I liked most of them. Well, I guess it was really just the one that I didn't.

Golden Kamuy by Satoru Noda

I read this one because of a reference to an Ainu character, Asirpa. I don't generally hear much about indigenous Japanese, so that seemed worth checking out.

While it would be easy to root for Asirpa herself, really the series is about blood, revenge, and tattoos leading to treasure, which is just the motivation that some people need to kill and skin other people. There is a gory ruthlessness that I can't enjoy. I may read more about Ainu people, but I won't be this way.

Shadow of the Batgirl, by Sarah Kuhn and Nicole Goux, is very much a good but normal offering in terms of the Bat-family. That's not an insult. As it was, I think I read it because Cassandra Cain was featured in the Birds of Prey movie, and it is how I found I Love You So Mochi, so that was a good service to me. However, one's feelings about superhero comics will probably have a bigger impact on desire to read this than anything I can say. This includes feelings about DC versus Marvel and specific feelings about the Bat-family.

Hungry Ghost by Victoria Yang led me to even more books when I was searching for it at the library, which led to some Halloween-themed reading. That's because "hungry ghost" is a thing, but it is not what this book is about.

Instead, it was an uncomfortable but ultimately affirming story about a girl struggling with an eating disorder, largely due to her mother's obsession. The grace she is able to find for her mother surprised me, but may have been part of what made it feel so hopeful.

For other books geared toward teenagers, Mooncakes by Suzanne Walker, Wendy Xu, and Joamette Gil gives you the magical and possibly sweeter, but Himawari House by Harmony Becker is a bit more bittersweet and realistic, as various transplanted students try and find their way.

It's okay; it's not like you have to choose.

Speaking of difficult realism, Talk To My Back by Yamada Murasaki kind of takes the issues of The Feminine Mystique to '80s Tokyo. There are no easy solutions for Chiharu, but I remember one of the points that stuck with me -- and nothing has changed my mind -- is that the deference and coddling that goes to men does not make them happier or better.

The Only Child by Guojing has its own magic, but it is based in a harsh reality, that the one child policy and the Chinese economy left a lot of lonely children. It is still a beautiful, practically wordless book. In that way it reminds me of The Arrival, but is its own, beautiful, thing.

I had mentioned earlier that across the categories of types of books, there were many about the immigrant experience.

Papaya Salad by Elisa Macellari may be the least obviously so. The granddaughter could easily be simply Italian, as that is where she and her parents live. Her grandfather even spent time in Europe, but family visits keep the connection across countries.

Much of the narration is built around meals, for both the sharing and the preparation. That is also a pattern in Family Style by Thien Pham.

Here the food is strongly associated with memories of escaping Vietnam, running a cooking stand in the refugee camp, and with American milestones, including briefly running a bakery. 

One of the story points is Pham having wavered on getting citizenship until feeling the need to vote during the rise of Trump. It is good to remember that what is horrifying when it is not targeted at you is worse when you are the target. 

That was also very present in Messy Roots: A Graphic Memoir of a Wuhanese American by Laura Gao. In this case, much of the animosity is driven by COVID, and feels worse because of Gao's connection to Wuhan. 

There is also a thread of that in The American Dream? A Journey on Route 66 by Shing Yin Kor, relating to feelings of safety on the road. There is enough to worry about on a long road trip without having to worry about xenophobia.   

The Best We Could Do by Thi Bui is the one that takes the hardest look at intergenerational trauma, and that is not something that is unique to Vietnamese refugees. This one might be helpful for people from various types of families.

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen gets us back to magic, again, and tells us it is doing so. 

Some stories that may sound very familiar, but a little different, get updated with very thoughtful imagery. That art is very interesting and beautiful, but ultimately the biggest, most helpful magic, is love and friendship.

We end with Dragon Hoops by Gene Luen Yang (who also made a cameo in Family Style). 

There is a story about sports and a story about choosing change, but one of the most touching things for me was a brief story of kindness shown to an ailing and disgraced coach, except because of how things were handled it was never investigated whether he actually deserved the disgrace, so people just assumed they should shun him. A legal resolution might have cemented that, but it might also have exonerated him.

It just reminded me of how much I believe in the importance of investigation.

It was minor, but sometimes small things are very important.

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